three letters.  He replied, “from [Arabic:  s] sin is derived sama,i (endurance); from [Arabic:  kh] khe comes khaufi Ilahi (fear of God); and from [Arabic:  y]_ye_ proceeds yad (remembrance of one’s birth and death).  Until one is possessed of these three qualities, he should not mention the name of generosity; and the generous man has also this happiness, that although he acts amiss [in other points], yet he is dear to his Maker [on account of his generosity].  I have travelled through many countries, but except the princess of Basra, I have not seen a [person really] generous.  The robe of generosity God hath shaped out on [the person] of that woman; all others desire the name, but do not act up to it.”  On hearing this, I made much entreaty, and conjured him [by all that was sacred] to forgive my rebuke, and take whatever he required.  He would not, on any account, accept my proffered gifts, but went away repeating these words, “Now if thou wert to give all thy kingdom, I would not spit upon it, nor would I even **.” [204] The pilgrim went away, but having heard such praises of the princess of Basra, my heart became quite restless, and no way could I be easy.  Now this desire arose within me, that by some means or other I must go to Basra and take a look at her.

In the meantime, the king, my father, died, and I ascended the throne.  I got the empire, but the idea [I had formed of going to Basra]] did not leave me.  I held a consultation with the wazir and nobles, who were the support of the throne, and the pillars of the empire, saying, I wish to make a journey to Basra.  Do ye remain steady in your respective stations; if I live, then the duration of the journey will be short; I will soon be back.  No one seemed pleased at the idea of my going; in my helplessness, my heart continued to become more and more sorrowful.  One day, without consulting any one, I privately sent for the resourceful wazir, and made him regent and plenipotentiary [during my absence], and placed him at the head of the affairs of the empire.  I then put on the ochre-coloured habit [of a pilgrim], and, assuming the appearance of a fakir, I took the road to Basra alone.  In a few days, I reached its boundaries, and [constantly] began to witness this scene; wherever I halted for the night, the servants of the princess advanced to receive me, and made me halt at some elegant house, and they used to provide me in perfection with all the requisites of a banquet, and to remain in attendance on me all night with the utmost respect.  The following day, at the next stage, I experienced the same reception.  In this comfort I journeyed onwards for months; at last I entered [the city of] Basra.  I had no sooner entered it, than a good-looking young man, well dressed, and well-behaved, who carried wisdom in his looks, came up to me, and said with extreme sweetness of address, “I am the servant of pilgrims; I am always on the look out to conduct to my house all travellers, whether pilgrims or men of the world, who come to this city; except my house alone, there is no other place here for a stranger to put up at; pray, holy sir, come with me, bestow honour on my abode, and render me exalted.