I. The Prince and the Handmaid.
Project Gutenberg EPUB edition
Jalal al-Din Rumi, Maulana and Redhouse, James W. (James William), Sir
With needle’s point he seeks the intrusive dart;
Not finding it, from lip he soothes the smart.
If thorn in foot is thus a task to find,
Judge what must be a rankling pang of mind.
Could every chance observer spy those ills,
Where’d be the cankering care, the grief that kills?
Boys place a thorn beneath an ass’s tail;
The cure Ned knows not; jumping’s no avail.
Whisking’s still worse; it deeper drives the dart.
’Tis reason’s task to ease the burning smart.125
The ass, if sharper grow the throbs and pains,
Kicks, plunges, rolls, his hide with gore bestains.
Our doctor’s mind, by art full well prepared,
With gentle measures sought the ill he feared.
Once more, with tact, he bids fresh memories come,
And leads the maid again to talk of home.
The spring once tapped, the stream began to flow;
She told th’ inquirer much he wished to know.
He lends his ear as she each scene displays;
His finger notes her pulse, as on she strays;130
To learn if any name should raise a start,
And thus betray the secret of her heart.
Anew he mentions every friend, each place;
Repeated such as gave of hope a trace.
He asked: “On quitting, thou, thy native town,
Where first was it thy guardians set thee down?”
A place she named, and on to others passed;
Nor blush, nor pulse gave sign, or notice massed.
Of lords and citizens she gave report,
Of festivals, and seats of gay resort.135
Town after town, house after house, by name,
She spoke about; no blush, no throb still came.
Her pulse retained its normal ebb and flow.
Till Samarqand’s name made her cheeks to glow,
Her pulse beat high, her colour went and came;
Of goldsmith youth she there had been the flame.
This point drawn forth,—this secret once confessed,
More easily our leech the sequel guessed.
“O maiden, let me know this youth’s abode.”
“At Holywell, near Bridge-end’s public road.”140