reveller bemused with wine, to lose my wits I'm fain.
Love no light matter is, O folk, nor are the woe and care And
blame a little thing to brook that unto it pertain.
I wander seeking East and West for you, and every time Unto a
camp I come, I'm told, "They've fared away again."
My friends have not accustomed me to rigour; for, of old, When I
forsook them, they to seek accord did not disdain.

When she had made an end of her song, she wept sore, till
presently sleep overcame her and she slept.

On the morrow, she said to the old man, "Get thee to the
money-changer and fetch me the ordinary." So he repaired to the
money-changer and delivered him the message, whereupon he made
ready meat and drink, as of his wont, [with which the old man
returned to the damsel and they ate till they had enough. When
she had eaten,] she sought of him wine and he went to the Jew and
fetched it. Then they sat down and drank; and when she grew
drunken, she took the lute and smiting it, fell a-singing and
chanted the following verses:

How long shall I thus question my heart that's drowned in woe?
I'm mute for my complaining; but tears speak, as they flow.
They have forbid their image to visit me in sleep; So even my
nightly phantom forsaketh me, heigho!

And when she had made an end of her song, she wept sore.

All this time, the young Damascene was hearkening, and whiles he
likened her voice to that of his slave-girl and whiles he put