So I arose, when dark night had settled on the world,
Though with weary feet, to seek a lodging, or obtain a loaf;
Till, being driven on by the instigation of hunger,
And by fate, so justly called ‘the parent of adventures,’
I stood at the door of a house and improvised these words:—­

“’Inmates of this abode, all hail! all hail! 
Long may you live in plenty’s verdant vale. 
Oh, grant your aid to one by toil opprest,
Way-worn, benighted, destitute, distrest;
Whose tortured entrails only hunger hold
(For since he tasted food two days are told);
A wretch who finds not where to lay his head,
Though brooding night her weary wing hath spread,
But roams in anxious hope a friend to meet,
Whose bounty, like a spring of water sweet,
May heal his woes; a friend who straight will say,
“Come in!  ‘Tis time thy staff aside to lay."’

“But there came out to me a boy in a short tunic, who said:—­

“’By Him who hospitable rites ordained,
And first of all, and best, those rites maintained,
I swear that friendly converse and a home
Is all we have for those who nightly roam.”

“And I replied, ’What can I do with an empty house,
And a host who is himself thus utterly destitute? 
But what is thy name, boy? for thy intelligence charms me.’ 
He replied, ’My name is Zeid, and I was reared at Faid;
And my mother Barrah (who is such as her name implies),
Told me she married one of the nobles of Serong and Ghassan,
Who deserted her stealthily, and there was an end of him.’ 
Now I knew by these distinct signs that he was my child,
But my poverty deterred me from discovering myself to him.”

     Then we asked if he wished to take his son to live with him;
     And he replied, “If only my purse were heavy enough,
     It would be easy for me to undertake the charge of him.” 
     So we severally undertook to contribute a portion of it,
     Whereupon he returned thanks for this our bounty,
     And was so profusely lavish in his acknowledgments,
     That we thought his expression of gratitude excessive. 
     And as soon as he had collected the coin into his scrip,
     He looked at me as the deceiver looks at the deceived,
     And laughed heartily, and then indited these lines:—­

“O thou who, deceived
By a tale, hast believed
A mirage to be truly a lake,
Though I ne’er had expected
My fraud undetected,
Or doubtful my meaning to make!

I confess that I lied
When I said that my bride
And my first-born were Barrah and Zeid;
But guile is my part,
And deception my art,
And by these are my gains ever made.

Such schemes I devise
That the cunning and wise
Never practiced the like or conceived;
Nor Asmai nor Komait
Any wonders relate
Like those that my wiles have achieved.