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In patience, O my God, I endure my lot and fate; * I will bear at

will of Thee whatsoever be my state: They oppress me; they

torture me; they make my life a woe * Yet haply Heaven's

happiness shall compensate my strait: Yea, straitened is my life

by the bane and hate o' foes * But Mustafa and Murtaza[FN#132]

shall ope me Heaven's gate.

After this the Sultan turned towards the young Prince and said,

"O youth, thou hast removed one grief only to add another grief;

but now, O my friend, where is she; and where is the mausoleum

wherein lieth the wounded slave?" "The slave lieth under yon

dome," quoth the young man, "and she sitteth in the chamber

fronting yonder door. And every day at sunrise she cometh forth,

and first strippeth me, and whippeth me with an hundred strokes

of the leathern scourge, and I weep and shriek; but there is no

power of motion in my lower limbs to keep her off me. After

ending her tormenting me she visiteth the slave, bringing him

wine and boiled meats.