SHE CONTINUED: I have heard, O fortunate king, that when Masrur, the merchant, woke, he experienced pangs of longing and said to himself: ‘I must go off today and find someone to interpret this dream for me.’ He got up, but although he walked in various directions until he was a long way from home, he failed to discover anyone who could do this for him. He was on his way back when it occurred to him to turn off to the house of a wealthy merchant. When he got there, he heard the lines being recited in a plaintive voice from a broken heart: The east wind blows from her abandoned camp With scent that cures sick-hearted lovers. I halted with my question by the worn-out ruins, Where nothing but dry bones answered my tears. I asked the breeze: ‘For God’s sake let me know, Will its delights ever return again? Shall I enjoy the favor of a fawn whose soft form has led me astray, Wasting my body, with slumberous, languid eyes?’ When Masrur heard the voice, he looked inside the door and saw the loveliest of gardens, within which there was a curtain of red brocade, studded with pearls and other gems. Behind this were four girls, among whom was another between four and five foot tall like a rounded moon gleaming at its full. Her eyelids were darkened with kohl beneath joining eyebrows; her mouth was like Solomon’s ring; her lips and her teeth were pearls and coral; and her beauty and grace, together with the symmetry of her figure, were such as to rob all who saw her of their wits.