And he
called to mind his brother's words and the contempt with which he
had treated him and repeated the following verses:
Travel, for yon shall find new friends in place of those you
leave, And labour, for in toil indeed the sweets of life
reside.
Nor gain nor honour comes to him who idly stays at home; So leave
thy native land behind and journey far and wide.
Oft have I seen a stagnant pool corrupt with standing still; If
water run, 'tis sweet, but else grows quickly putrefied.
If the full moon were always high and never waned nor set, Men
would not strain their watchful eyes for it at every tide.
Except the arrow leave the bow, 'twill never hit the mark, Nor
will the lion chance on prey, if in the copse he bide.
The aloes in its native land a kind of firewood is, And precious
metals are but dust whilst in the mine they hide.
The one is sent abroad and grows more precious straight than
gold; The other's brought to light and finds its value
magnified.
Then he bade one of his people saddle him his mule with a padded
saddle. Now she was a dapple mule, high-backed, like a dome
builded upon columns; her saddle was of cloth of gold and her
stirrups of Indian steel, her housings of Ispahan velvet, and she
was like a bride on her wedding night. Moreover, he bade lay on
her back a carpet of silk and strap the saddle-bags on that and
spread a prayer-rug over the whole.
Pages:
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242