could think was, 'O accursed old woman!' and this he kept repeating to
himself for solace; as the poet says:

'Tis sure the special privilege of hate,
To curse the authors of our evil state.

As he was thus complaining, behold the very old woman before him! And
she wheezed, and croaked, and coughed, and shook herself, and screwed her
face into a pleasing pucker, and assumed womanish airs, and swayed
herself, like as do the full moons of the harem when the eye of the
master is upon them. Having made an end of these prettinesses, she said,
in a tone of soft insinuation, 'O youth, nephew of the barber, look upon
me.'

Shibli Bagarag knew her voice, and he would not look, thinking, 'Oh, what
a dreadful old woman is this! just calling on her name in detestation
maketh her present to us.' So the old woman, seeing him resolute to shun
her, leaned to him, and put one hand to her dress, and squatted beside
him, and said, 'O youth, thou hast been thwacked!'

He groaned, lifting not his face, nor saying aught. Then said she, 'Art
thou truly in search of great things, O youth?'

Still he groaned, answering no syllable. And she continued, ''Tis surely
in sweet friendliness I ask. Art thou not a fair youth, one to entice a
damsel to perfect friendliness?'

Louder yet did he groan at her words, thinking, 'A damsel, verily!' So
the old woman said, 'I wot thou art angry with me; but now look up, O
nephew of the barber! no time for vexation. What says the poet?--