One Monday, as I was sitting in a merchant ‘s shop, whose name
was Buddir ad Deen, a lady of quality, as might easily be
perceived by her air, her apparel, and by a well-dressed slave
attending her, came into the shop, and sat down by me. Her
external appearance, joined to a natural grace that shone in all
her actions, prepossessed me in her favour, and inspired me with
a desire to be better acquainted with her. I know not whether she
observed that I took pleasure in gazing on her, and whether this
attention on my part was not agreeable to her; but she let down
the crepe that hung over the muslin which covered her face, and
gave me the opportunity of seeing her large black eyes; which
perfectly charmed me. In fine, she inflamed my love to the height
by the agreeable sound of her voice, her graceful carriage in
saluting the merchant, and asking him how he did since she had
seen him last.

After conversing with him some time upon indifferent subjects,
she gave him to understand that she wanted a particular kind of
stuff with a gold ground; that she came to his shop, as affording
the best choice of any in all the bazaar; and that if he had any
such as she asked for, he would oblige her in showing them.
Buddir ad Deen produced several pieces, one of which she pitched
upon, and he asked for it eleven hundred dirhems of silver. "I
will," said she, "give you your price for it, but I have not
money enough about me; so I hope you will give me credit till to-
morrow, and in the mean time allow me to carry home the stuff. I
shall not fail," added she, "to send you tomorrow the eleven
hundred dirhems." "Madam," said Buddir ad Deen, "I would give you
credit with all my heart if the stuff were mine; but it belongs