"
Quoth he, "Wilt thou not confess after all this torture?" And she
answered, "I never saw him in my life, and God forbid that I
should lie against him and thou kill him." "Then," said he, "if
thou know him not, take this sword and cut off his head." She
took the sword and came and stood at my head; and I made signs to
her with my eyebrows whilst the tears ran down my cheeks. She
understood me and signed to me with her eyes as who should say,
"Thou hast brought all this upon us." And I answered her, in the
same fashion, that it was a time for forgiveness; and the tongue
of the case spoke[FN#31] the words of the poet:
My looks interpret for my tongue and tell of what I feel: And all
the love appears that I within my heart conceal.
When as we meet and down our cheeks our tears are running fast,
I'm dumb, and yet my speaking eyes my thought of thee
reveal.
She signs to me; and I, I know the things her glances say: I with
my fingers sign, and she conceives the mute appeal.
Our eyebrows of themselves suffice unto our intercourse: We're
mute; but passion none the less speaks in the looks we
steal.
Then she threw down the sword and said, "How shall I strike off
the head of one whom I know not and who has done me no hurt? My
religion will not allow of this." Quoth the Afrit, "It is
grievous to thee to kill thy lover.
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