Now he had with him nought wherewithal he might cover himself; so he wrapped himself up in one of the rugs of the mosque [and abode thus till daybreak], when the Muezzins came and finding him sitting in that case, said to him, “O youth, what is this plight?” Quoth he, “I cast myself on your hospitality, imploring your protection from a company of folk who seek to kill me unjustly and oppressively, without cause.”  And [one of] the Muezzin[s] said, “Be of good heart and cheerful eye.”  Then he brought him old clothes and covered him withal; moreover, he set before him somewhat of meat and seeing upon him signs of gentle breeding, said to him, “O my son, I grow old and desire thee of help, [in return for which] I will do away thy necessity.”  “Hearkening and obedience,” answered Noureddin and abode with the old man, who rested and took his ease, what while the youth [did his service in the mosque], celebrating the praises of God and calling the faithful to prayer and lighting the lamps and filling the ewers[FN#28] and sweeping and cleaning out the place.

Meanwhile, the Lady Zubeideh, the wife of the Commander of the Faithful, made a banquet in her palace and assembled her slave-girls.  As for Sitt el Milah, she came, weeping-eyed and mournful-hearted, and those who were present blamed her for this, whereupon she recited the following verses: 

Ye chide at one who weepeth for troubles ever new; Needs must th’
     afflicted warble the woes that make him rue. 
Except I be appointed a day [to end my pain], I’ll weep until
     mine eyelids with blood their tears ensue.

When she had made an end of her verses, the Lady Zubeideh bade each damsel sing a song, till the turn came round to Sitt el Milah, whereupon she took the lute and tuning it, sang thereto four-and-twenty songs in four-and-twenty modes; then she returned to the first mode and sang the following verses: 

Fortune its arrows all, through him I love, let fly At me and
     parted me from him for whom I sigh. 
Lo, in my heart the heat of every heart burns high And in mine
     eyes unite the tears of every eye.

When she had made an end of her song, she wept till she made the bystanders weep and the Lady Zubeideh condoled with her and said to her, “God on thee, O Sitt el Milah, sing us somewhat, so we may hearken to thee.”  “Hearkening and obedience,” answered the damsel and sang the following verses: 

Assemble, ye people of passion, I pray; For the hour of our
     torment hath sounded to-day. 
The raven of parting croaks loud at our door; Alas, for our raven
     cleaves fast to us aye! 
For those whom we cherish are parted and gone; They have left us
     in torment to pine for dismay. 
So arise, by your lives I conjure you, arise And come let us fare
     to our loved ones away.