O hail to him whose locks his cheeks o’ershade,
          Who slew my life by cruel hard despight: 
     Said I, “Hast veiled the Morn in Night?” He said,
          “Nay, I but veil the Moon in hue of Night.”

Then they displayed Dunyazad in a second and a third and a fourth dress, and she paced forward like the rising sun, and swayed to and fro in the insolence of her beauty; and she was even as saith the poet of her in these couplets:—­

     The sun of beauty she to all appears
          And, lovely coy, she mocks all loveliness: 
     And when he fronts her favor and her smile
          A-morn, the sun of day in clouds must dress.

Then they displayed Shahrazad in the third dress and the fourth and the fifth, and she became as she were a Ban-branch snell of a thirsting gazelle, lovely of face and perfect in attributes of grace, even as saith of her one in these couplets:—­

     She comes like fullest moon on happy night,
          Taper of waist with shape of magic might;
     She hath an eye whose glances quell mankind,
          And ruby on her cheeks reflects his light;
     Enveils her hips the blackness of her hair;
          Beware of curls that bite with viper-bite! 
     Her sides are silken-soft, what while the heart
          Mere rock behind that surface ’scapes our sight;
     From the fringed curtains of her cyne she shoots
          Shafts that at furthest range on mark alight.

Then they returned to Dunyazad and displayed her in the fifth dress and in the sixth, which was green, when she surpassed with her loveliness the fair of the four quarters of the world, and outvied, with the brightness of her countenance, the full moon at rising tide; for she was even as saith of her the poet in these couplets:—­

     A damsel ’twas the tirer’s art had decked with snare and sleight,
          And robed with rays as though the sun from her had borrowed
               light;
     She came before us wondrous clad in chemisette of green,
          As veiled by his leafy screen Pomegranate hides from sight;
     And when he said, “How callest thou the fashion of thy dress?”
          She answered us in pleasant way, with double meaning dight,
     “We call this garment creve-coeur; and rightly is it hight,
          For many a heart wi’ this we brake and harried many a sprite.”

Then they displayed Shahrazad in the sixth and seventh dresses and clad her in youth’s clothing, whereupon she came forward swaying from side to side, and coquettishly moving, and indeed she ravished wits and hearts and ensorcelled all eyes with her glances.  She shook her sides and swayed her haunches, then put her hair on sword-hilt and went up to King Shahryar, who embraced her as hospitable host embraceth guest, and threatened her in her ear with the taking of the sword; and she was even as saith of her the poet in these words:—­