On his return Antar was received with a rapturous welcome by the Absian tribe.  But the hostile and the envious continued to plot against him.  They still aimed at preventing his marriage, and compassing his death.  Amarah, who aspired to Ibla’s hand, backed by all the chieftains hostile to Antar, renewed his suit and pretensions.  Ibla was carried off from her house among the Absians, and taken to another tribe.  Then Antar set out in search of her, and at length rescued her:  their mutual love was intensified by this reunion.  By a series of wiles and intrigues skilfully conducted, the chiefs who surrounded Ibla persuaded her to demand still further dowry from Antar.  She spoke of Khaled and Djaida, whose history has already been related; she said, in presence of Antar, that that young warrior girl would not consent to marry Khaled, saving on the condition that her camel’s bridle be held by the daughter of Moawich.  This word was sufficient for Antar, and he promised to Ibla that Djaida should hold the bridle of her camel on her wedding day; and more than that, the head of Khaled should be slung round the neck of the warrior girl.  Thus the hero, constantly loving and beloved by Ibla, incessantly deceived by the cunningly devised obstacles raised by his foes, sustained his reputation for greatness of character and strength of arm, submitted with resignation to the severest tests, and passed victoriously through them all.  After the death of King Zoheir, whom he avenged, he undertook to assist Cais, Zoheir’s son, in all his enterprises, and after a long series of adventures which tired the patience, love, and courage of Antar, this hero, recognized as chief among Arabian chieftains, obtained the great reward of his long struggles and mighty toils, by marriage to his well-loved Ibla.

KHALED AND DJAIDA

Moharib and Zahir were brothers, of the same father and mother; the Arabs call them “brothers germane.”  Both were, renowned for courage and daring.  But Moharib was chief of the tribe, and Zahir, being subject to his authority, was no more than his minister, giving him counsel and advice.  Now it happened that a violent dispute arose between them.  Zahir subsequently retired to his tent, in profound sorrow, and not knowing what course to take.  “What is the matter with you?” asked his wife, “Why are you so troubled?  What has happened to you?  Has any one displeased or insulted you—­the greatest of Arab chiefs?” “What am I to do?” replied Zahir; “the man who has injured me is one whom I cannot lay hands on, or do him wrong; he is my companion in the bosom of my family, my brother in the world.  Ah, if it had been any one but he, I would have shown him what sort of a man he was at odds with, and have made an example of him before all the chiefs of our tribes!” “Leave him; let him enjoy his possessions alone,” cried his wife, and, in order to persuade her husband to take this course, she recited verses from a poet of the time, which dissuade a man from tolerating an insult even at the hands of his parents.