Pagina 395 de 1116

And the Shaykh held by the hand a youth cast in beauty's mould,

all elegance and perfect grace; so fair that his comeliness

deserved to be proverbial; for he was as a green bough or the

tender young of the roe, ravishing every heart with his

loveliness and subduing every soul with his coquetry and amorous

ways.[FN#265] It was of him the poet spake when he said:-

Beauty they brought with him to make compare, * But Beauty hung

her head in shame and care: Quoth' they, "O Beauty, hast thou

seen his like?" * And Beauty cried, "His like? not anywhere!"