he summoned Rudaki to his presence. He was the slave who slept in the ante-chamber of Najran.

"Rudaki," said Afrasiyab, placing a purse of gold in his hand, "thou art a faithful slave." (Rudaki bowed, and his fingers instinctively grasped the welcome and unexpected gift.) "I have had a dream," continued Afrasiyab: "methought 'twas morning that thou stoodest trembling before me and reported that Najran lay dead in his couch, stabbed to the death." And his malignant eyes looked into the countenance of the slave as he spoke, as if he would read the passing emotions of his soul.

Rudaki let fall his purse, and stooped to recover it.

"Rudaki!"

"Dread Lord ?”

"Realise this dream," said Afrasiyab, grasping him eagerly by the arm, "and thy liberty and this sum twice-told shall reward thee for the tidings. Shouldst thou fail in this, or betray me, thy life shall answer it."

"I am thy slave," replied Rudaki ;" and thou mayest command my services."

Receiving a jewel-hilted poniard from Afrasiyab, the slave bowed lowly and departed. Rudaki's affection, however, overcame both the proffered temptation and the fear of the ruthless uncle; for he had been brought up from his childhood with the amiable Najran, and loved him with the affection of a brother. Repairing to his chamber he aroused the sleeping youth, and hastily recounted the sanguinary intentions of Afrasiyab. Najran was penetrated with horror; but Rudaki, fearing the danger of delay, urged him to seek for safety in immediate flight : and Najran yielding to his earnest entreaties, they were, in a few hours, far from his native place-the world before them, and the purse of Rudaki the sum of all their wealth.

"But better no purse in thy girdle than a naked dagger at thy heart!" said Rudaki; " and, after all, the wide world is like a fair piece of cloth from which the shears of diligence may, in time, fashion a garment!"

Najran the Wanderer wounded by the Arrows of Love.

The pliant mind of the accomplished Najran had been improved by art and study, while nature had endowed Rudaki with a ready wit, which his youthful master had taken a pleasure in refining by instruction; and now he not only regarded the faithful slave with affection, but esteemed him as a pleasant companion, jocosely calling him his peripatetic Pendnama*; for his playful and inexhaustible humour illumined the weary path of his pilgrimage like the cheering rays of the noon-day sun.

After many days of travel they reached the renowned city of Shiraz; and fearful of exhausting their limited resources by unnecessary expenditure, they humbly took up their abode in the ruins of a once noble mansion in the suburbs.

"We are not humming-birds," said the economical Rudaki, "and

*A Book of Moral Sentences, by Ferideddin Atter.

cannot live upon flies cooked in the sunbeams; and therefore we had better spare to-day and spend to-morrow: for we all know too well when the money 's gone the music ceases; or, as the poet expresseth it

"Chunkeh gul raft wa gulistan darguzasht

Nashanwi zan pas zabulbul sarguzasht!"

"When the roses wither and the bower loses its sweetness,
You have no longer the tale of the nightingale !"

Najran smiled at the application, and readily acquiesced in his arrangements. Habited in the dark and plain pelisses in which they had so hastily made their escape, they daily mingled in the crowds of the great city. One day, while lounging in that quarter of the bazaar where the perfumers dwelt, Najran was aroused from his reverie by the appearance of two females who issued from one of the shops. By the difference of their attire he at once recognized them as a young lady of condition and her slave. The lady encountered his ardent gaze, and hesitated for a moment on the threshold, evidently reading his admiration in the confusion which crimsoned his handsome brow. Najran drew back a step, and she tripped along with the ease and lightness of a gazelle. Her figure, as she moved, appeared as graceful as the waving cypress; and, although her face was concealed, her voice discoursed such sweet music that his ears were ravished.

"Rudaki," said Najran, summoning the slave, who was thrusting his nose into the shop, and obtaining (as he said) as much perfume as he could for nothing-" Rudaki, follow the light of that lady's heel, and learn her name and dwelling."

"Sweet master," replied Rudaki, " if she be a light-heeled damsel, would it not be wiser to run the other way, lest we get our wings singed? Remember the story of 'The Taper and the Moth"

"Peace, slave, and obey!" cried the youth impatiently; and Rudaki, accustomed to implicit obedience, immediately did his bidding. In half an hour the slave returned.

"Well?" said Najran eagerly.

"She is the daughter of Anwar; her name is Shireen-and she is rich as she is beautiful," quickly answered the intelligent Rudaki ;" and this is the fruit of my diligent inquiries, which I obtained at the price of a melon at an adjoining green-grocer's."

"And the house?"

"In the Eastern Quarter."

"So will the East never want light while she dwells there," exclaimed the enamoured Najran. "Rudaki, the mystic sympathy of love hath already united my soul to hers!"

"Then are we on the brink of ruin," said Rudaki, " for love is one of the most extravagant fancies that a poor man can nourish. As well may a water-carrier entertain a white elephant!"

"Do not nip the bud of hope," said Najran, "by thy cold and worldly calculation. Know, Rudaki, that nothing is impossible to love, and that I am resolved to possess this gem. My breast has been heretofore a desert; and, lo! a second Tasnim † has suddenly sprung up and spread around a vernal freshness of delight."

* A poem by Ahli.

Tasnim-a fountain of Paradise.

"May you prosper and your shadow increase!" said Rudaki; "but remember the man who once tried to catch a bulbul *, and pricked his fingers with the rose-tree in which she was singing!"

Lament of Najran, and the Beam of Joy which dispersed the
Obscurity of Despair.

In a corner of the gloomy ruin where they had taken up their abode sat the love-stricken Najran, buried in melancholy thought; nor could his light-hearted companion induce him to taste of the bowl of rice which he had prepared for their refection.

"Daregha (alas!)" sighed Najran," how unfortunate am I that the star of my destiny should be obscured at the moment when most I need its light to guide my steps!"

"Mazar (perhaps !)" replied Rudaki, sententiously.

"What?" exclaimed Najran," and canst thou doubt it?"

"When the clouds gather," said Rudaki, we may expect rain will fall, and then will not fresh and beautiful flowers spring up?"

"Alas! stripped of my birthright," cried Najran," what prospect have I of succeeding in the object of my desire? How hard is my fate!" "Flints are hard," said Rudaki; "but may not the brightest sparks

be struck from them ?"

"Thou rough, kind moralist," said Najran," thy maxims almost win me to hope."

"Because a man

"Hope! to be sure, sweet master," said Rudaki. hath not the white bread of Yezdecas, nor the bright wine of Shiraz, must he refuse wholesome rice and fair water, and starve himself in spite? For my part, I mean to live as long as I can—as the rattlesnake said when he got an additional joint to his tail +."

Najran could not forbear smiling at the humour of Rudaki, but again his brow darkened, and he was absorbed in abstraction; at length he broke forth into the following exclamation

"Blessed Ali! has my father's son no friend?"

"Inak! (behold!)" cried a sweet voice, melodious as that of the celestial Irafil.

Najran and Rudaki startled, arose from their rude seats of broken stone, and gazing around beheld the form of a beautiful female.

Her countenance was as radiant as the full moon, and her light and vapoury garments floated about her like the fleecy clouds of a summer sky. Even the ready and loquacious Rudaki was struck dumb by this apparition.

"Najran," continued the genii, "I am thy friend! and willingly would I pay the debt of gratitude I owe thy virtuous father, for by his aid was I freed from the cruel bondage of the Kharfesters. I know thy misfortunes-thy love-thy wants! Oppose to these endurance, fidelity, and hope, and thou wilt be happy. Beneath yonder stone lies a treasure-the golden key to the precious casket of delight! Be bold, be virtuous, and thou wilt prosper!"

Saying which, the genii gradually faded from their wondering gaze.

Bulbul, the Philomel of the poets, and the nightingale of the prosers.

It is supposed that this addition takes place annually.

Wicked and mischievous genii.

"Sweet lady of Jinnistan! *" cried Rudaki, as soon as he recovered the use of his speech, "may thy sunny cheeks ever rest upon roseleaves! What a ravishing voice! By the apron of Gao+! a gazzel‡ from her lips would move a crocodile to love!"

"Truly," said the delighted Najran, "the sun of hope hath suddenly risen above our heads and shortened the shadow that stretched darkly before us."

"Did I not predict this?" demanded Rudaki; "and is it not human life, which is ever checquered, alternate black and white, like a chessboard, or like the apple of Istkahar, half sour, half sweet,-and we (blind mortals as we are) have stuck our teeth in the wrong side? But, after all, there's a destiny in everything, for one man obtains sugar and another a thrashing from the same cane!"

Moralizing in this serio-comic mood, Rudaki, assisted by Najran, removed the stone indicated by the good genii, and then both diligently set to work with their knives to remove the earth. After labouring fruitlessly for an hour they desisted awhile from their toil. Disappointment was too evidently expressed in the countenance of Najran, although he uttered not a murmur.

"I hope," said Rudaki, " that the treasure is not too deep for us,— as the two thirsty foxes said when they peeped into the well."

"Strange," muttered Najran, afraid to say that he did not hope. "Go, fetch some water, for my lips are parched."

While Rudaki was absent, he listlessly raked about the earth with the point of his long knife, and espying a green acorn, he put it in his girdle.

"Holloa!" exclaimed Rudaki, returning, and putting down the pitcher which he had just replenished. "Gone!"

"Gone!" said Najran.

"No, Rudaki, here I am."

"Here! where ?" cried Rudaki, trembling. "By the tomb of Shah Besade I see thee not!"

The truth flashed in a moment across the mind of Najran. He had become invisible !

"I have found the treasure!" said the delighted youth.

"And lost thyself," replied Rudaki; "for not a hair of thy kolah § can I perceive."

Najran drew out the mystic acorn, threw it at his feet, and in a moment resumed his form, to the delight and admiration of his faithful slave.

"This is, indeed, a treasure," cried Rudaki. By the eyes of Ali! thou mayest now appear and disappear at pleasure, going in and out as quickly as a tailor's needle in a kaftan ."

Gratified beyond measure by the genii's gift, Najran spent the evening in consultation with Rudaki upon the best means of turning its power to advantage.

* Fairy land.

A shoemaker who successfully resisted the tyranny of Zohak, and whose apron became the royal standard of Persia.

Gazzel, a love song.

Kolah, a cap of black sheepskin.
Kaftan, a garment.

How Najran communicated the tender anguish of his heart to Shireen, and the healing balm she administered.

Leladeen, the favourite slave of Shireen, was singing her one of the most sprightly compositions of Fardosi, accompanying her voice with the music of an Indian syrinda or guitar.

"Cease, dear Leladeen," cried Shireen, languidly; "the liveliness of thy strain only tends to make me more melancholy.'

"Ah, me!" replied Leladeen; "you have drooped, sweet mistress, ever since you beheld that youth at the bazaar. He has surely enchanted you."

"He has, indeed," replied Shireen, sighing; "for sleeping and waking, he has ever been present to my thoughts. I saw him again. last night."

"Where, sweet mistress ?"

"In my dreams, dear Leladeen," said she: "but no, 'twas no dream, -'twas a vision. Methought I was in a fair garden, when the air was suddenly filled with the most ravishing music, and lo! a genii appeared, leading forth that self same youth, who, kneeling at my feet, wept, and when he had departed, my path was strewed with precious pearls." "How delightful!" cried Leladeen.

"O! say not so," said her gentle mistress.

"I would not have my

true love weep, though every tear were a pearl of price!"

Behind the embroidered musnud on which she was reclining stood the faithful Rudaki, who, by the power of the genii's gift, had gained admittance unseen to the apartment of Shireen. His heart fluttered with delight, for the praise of his beloved master was music to his ears. Silently laying a scented billet, bound with a silken cord, at her elbow, he withdrew a pace, lest even his breathing might awaken her alarm. "What is this?" exclaimed Shireen, seizing the paper.

"A missive of love, perhaps, brought by some pigeon. Open and read it, pray do," said the curious slave.

It was unfolded ere Leladeen concluded her request, and Shireen read the following words inscribed in the most beautiful character:"JESSAMINE-BOSOMED SHIREEN!-I have presumed to gaze upon thee, and the penalty of the pleasure is the loss of a faithful heart that never yet knew love. I was poor before, but now most poor indeed, having lost that peace of mind which was my only treasure. Be pitiful, therefore, as thou art beautiful, and permit me to behold thee once more, for even should I die slain by thy frowns, that death will be a paradise to

"NAJRAN.”

The agitation of Shireen equalled her surprise, but her imagination, warmed by the vision which she had beheld in her slumbers, and her heart prompted by sentiments of the tenderest affection, at once decided her upon the course she should pursue.

"Give me the reed," said she to Leladeen. "I will reply;" and she instantly wrote on the back of the billet this sentence

"The caged bird cannot fly abroad at will. At eve, beneath the chenar-tree, in her father's garden sits

"SHIREEN."