When I grew up to man's
estate, my father was translated to the mercy of God, leaving me
great wealth in money and slaves and servants, and I began to
dress handsomely and feed daintily. Now God had made me a hater
of women, and one day, as I was going along one of the streets of
Baghdad, a company of women stopped the way before me; so I fled
from them, and entering a by-street without an outlet, sat down
upon a stone bench at the other end. I had not sat long, before
the lattice of one of the houses in the street opened and a young
lady, as she were the moon at its full, never in my life saw I
her like, put forth her head and began to water some flowers she
had on the balcony. Then she turned right and left and seeing me
watching her, smiled and shut the window and went away.
Therewithal, fire flamed up in my heart and my mind was taken up
with her, and my hatred (of women) was changed to love. I
continued sitting there, lost to the world, till sundown, when
the Cadi of the city came riding up the street, with slaves
before him and servants behind him, and alighting, entered the
very house at which the young lady had appeared. By this I
guessed that he was her father; so I went home, sorrowful, and
fell on my bed, oppressed with melancholy thoughts. My women came
in to me and sat round me, puzzled to know what ailed me; but I
would not speak to them nor answer their questions, and they wept
and lamented over me.
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