gear to the ship; but no sooner had she come thither than the sails were hoisted and the canvas was loosed[FN#514] and the ship set sail.  When the King saw this, he cried out and his wife wept in the ship and would have cast herself into the waves; but the Magian bade his men lay hands on her.  So they seized her and it was but a little while ere the night darkened and the ship vanished from the King’s eyes; whereupon he fainted away for excess of weeping and lamentation and passed his night bewailing his wife and his children.  And when the morning morrowed he began improvising these couplets:—­[FN#515]

     “O World, how long, this spite, this enmity? 
     Say me, dost ever spare what spared can be? 
And look! my friends have fared fain and free! 
     They went and went wi’ them my dear delight
     E’en from the day when friends to part were dight
And turbid made their lost life’s clarity. 
     By Allah, ne’er I wist their worth aright
     Nor ever wot I worth of friends unite
Till fared they, leaving flame in heart of me!

     I’ll ne’er forget them since what day each wight
     Hied and withdrew fro’ me his well-loved sight
And yet I weep this parting-blow to dree. 
     I vow an Heaven deign my friends return
     And cry the crier in mine ears that yearn
“The far is near, right soon their sight shalt see!”
     Upon their site my cheeks I’ll place, to sprite
     I’ll say, “Rejoice, thy friends return to thee!”
     Nor blame my heart when friends were lief to flee: 
I rent my heart ere rent my raimentry.”

He sat weeping for the severance of his wife and children till the morning, when he went forth wandering at a venture, unweeting what he should do, and ceased not walking along the sea-shore days and nights, unknowing whither he went and taking no food save the herbs of the earth and seeing neither man nor wildling nor other living thing, till his wayfare brought him to a mountain-top.  He sojourned in the highland and abode awhile there alone, eating of its fruits and drinking of its founts; then he came down thence and trudged along the high road three days, when he hit upon tilled fields and villages and gave not over going till he made a great city on the shore of the salt sea and came to its gate at the last of the day.  The gatekeepers allowed him no admission; so he spent his night anhungered, and when he arose in the morning, he sat down hard by the portal.  Now the king of the city was dead and had left no son, and the citizens fell out anent who should be ruler over them:  and their words and redes differed, so that civil war was like to befal them thereupon.  But it came to pass that, after long jangle, they agreed to leave the choice to the late king’s elephant and that he unto whom he consented should be king and that they would not contest with him the sway.  So to this they sware and on the morrow, they brought out their elephant and fared forth to a site within