Wine is never unwelcome to the drunkard though it maketh him hang down his head in shame: even so is thy bosom to me, O false one!
He
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Even tenderer than a flower is love: and few there be who know its delicacy and deal with it gently.71
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There were the sulks in her eye when she saw me: but when I approached, she flew to my arms even quicker than I myself to hers.
CXXX
Chiding the Heart
She
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Thou seest how his heart serveth his will: then, how is it that thou obeyest not me, O my Heart?
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Thou seest, my Heart, how he neglecteth me: and yet thou consortest with him as if he were thy friend!
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Thou followest him at thy own sweet will and pleasure, my Heart: dost thou also teach me that those who are unfortunate have no friends?
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Thou refusest to indulge in a bouderie, my Heart, before showing thy delight in his company: who is going hereafter to take thee as a confidant in suchlike things?
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It feareth lest it should not get him, and when it hath got him, it feareth lest it should lose him: thus there is no end to the pangs that my Heart suffereth.
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What is my Heart good for? It is good for nothing else but to devour me when I am musing alone.
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Fallen into the company of this foolish Heart that knoweth not to preserve its self-respect by forgetting him, I have myself forgotten my dignity.
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My life of a Heart thinketh it a disgrace to our own selves if we humiliate the beloved: and so it is always partial to him.
CXXXI
Bouderie74
The Maid to the Mistress
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Embrace him not, my dear, but feign to be angry: let us just see a fun how he is nettled over it.
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Bouderie is the salt of love: to lengthen it unduly, however, is like adding too much of salt to food.
The Wife Is in a Fit of Jealousy and Addresses the Husband
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It is like wounding one anew who is already wounded, it thou come away without embracing her whom thou hast left in a pet.
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To come away without conciliating her who is frowning in a pet is like cutting off the roots from under the starving plant.
The Husband Within Himself
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The bouderie of the beloved hath an attraction even for men who are spotlessly pure.
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If there were no frowns or pets on the part of the beloved, love would miss its fruits and its half-growns.
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There is a pain that belongeth unto bouderie: for one asketh oneself whether reconciliation is near or yet a far way off.
The Husband to Himself but in the Hearing of the Wife
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Of what avail is my grieving when there is no loving one nigh to see how much I suffer?
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Water is pleasant only in shady groves: and pettishness hath a charm only in one who loveth ardently.
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If my heart still yearneth for her who sootheth me not, it is due to nothing but a foolish longing.
CXXXII
The Finesses of Bouderie
She
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All that are women devour thee with their eyes, thou gallant! I shall have none of thy embrace.
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I was in the sulks: he then sneezed, for he thought that I would bless him saying, Long live my beloved!
He
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Even if I wear a garland she would go off in a pique saying, Thou wantest to look smart in some damsel’s eyes!
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I said to her, I love thee above all: and behold, she frowned at once asking, Above whom? and above whom?
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I told her, We shall never part in this life: alack, her eyes at once filled with tears!75
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I said to her, I called thee to mind when away: and she that was about to clasp me to her arms went off in a pet saying, Thou hadst forgotten me then!
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I sneezed and she blessed: but then she recalled her blessing and asked with tear-filled eyes, Who thought on thee now, that thou sneezedest?76
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I repressed my sneeze: and then aiso she wept saying, Thou wantest to conceal from me that some of thy friends are thinking on thee!
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Even if I exhaust all my arts to soothe her, she will only frown harder saying, Thou hast practised well at others’ bouderies!
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Even if I look in rapture on her own charms, she will chide saying, To whose limbs now art thou comparing mine?
CXXXIII
The Charm of Bouderie
She
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Even if he is free from faults, it is only bouderie that giveth me a taste of his conciliatory grace.
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Though the tenderness of the beloved hath to wait a little, there is a charm in the pinprick that we feel in being pettish.
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Is there a higher heaven than bouderie, provided that the beloved is one with us, even as the water with the land whereon it floweth?
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In my very quarrel with my beloved lieth the engine that stormeth the defences of my heart.
He
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Even when one is free from faults there is a delight when the arms of the beloved are withdrawn from one’s clasp.
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Sweeter is digestion than the meal: even so is the lovers’ quarrel sweeter than the embrace.
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It is the one who yieldeth first who is the winner in lovers’ quarrels: thou canst see it indeed at the hour of reconciliation.
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Verily, will she give some piquancy to the delights of our embrace by just feigning a quarrel for some time?
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Oh, let me enjoy her frowning and her pouting a little more! Only let night prolong her reign at my prayer.
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Bouderie is
