Lesson 6: The friend of God asks the king for privacy to diagnose her

He ˹the divine physician˺ said, “O king, empty the house and send away both kin and strangers.”

“Let no one stand listening in the entrance-halls, so that I may ask this handmaiden certain things.”

The house was left empty, and not a soul remained but the ˹divine˺ physician and that same sick ˹handmaiden˺.

He said ˹to the handmaiden˺ slowly and gently, “Where is your city? For the cure of the people of each city is distinct.”

“And who in that city is related to you? With whom do you have bonds of kinship and attachment?”

He placed his hand on her pulse and, one by one, kept asking about the cruelty of fate ˹and all that had befallen her˺.

˹For instance,˺ when a thorn darts into someone’s foot, he rests his foot upon his knee ˹to find it˺,

and with the point of a needle he keeps searching for its tip; and if he cannot find it, he keeps moistening ˹the spot˺ with his lips.

When a thorn in the foot is this hard to find, how ˹then˺ is it with a thorn in the heart? Give an answer!

If every base soul saw the thorn in the heart, when would sorrows gain a hold on anyone?

˹In another example,˺ someone puts a thorn under a donkey’s tail; the donkey does not know how to rid itself of it, ˹so˺ it jumps about.

It jumps about ˹in its ignorance˺, and that thorn digs in more firmly; a wise one is needed to pull a thorn out.

To rid itself of the thorn, the donkey, out of burning and pain, kept kicking, and inflicted wounds in a hundred places.

˹But˺ that ˹divine˺ physician was a master at drawing out thorns ˹from the heart˺; he touched here and there, testing.

In the manner of a tale, he kept asking that handmaiden how her friends were.

She openly told the ˹divine˺ physician tales of where she had lived, of her masters, and of her fellow townspeople.

He ˹the divine physician˺ kept his ear on her telling of tales and his mind on her pulse and its throbbing.

So that ˹he might see˺ at whose name the pulse would leap, ˹and know that˺ that one is the object of her soul’s desire in the world.

He listed her friends in her city; after that, he named another city.

He said, “When you left your own city, in which city have you been the longest?”

He ˹the divine physician˺ named a city and passed on from that one too; ˹but˺ the colour of her face and her pulse did not change.

He told of the masters and the cities one by one, of place and of bread and salt ˹or hospitality˺.

City by city and house by house he told tales; neither did her vein stir nor her face turn pale.

Her pulse kept to its own state, untroubled, until he asked about Samarkand, ˹sweet˺ as sugar.

Her pulse leapt, and her face turned red and pale, for she had been parted from a goldsmith of Samarkand.

When that ˹divine˺ physician learned this secret from the patient, he discovered the origin of that pain and affliction.

He said, “Which is his quarter in passing?” She said, “Sar-i Pul ˹Bridgehead˺, and the Ghatafar quarter.”

He said, “I know what your illness is; soon I will work magic to set you free.”

“Be glad, at ease, and safe, for I will do for you what rain ˹does˺ for a meadow.”

“I sorrow for you; you, do not sorrow. I am more tender towards you than a hundred fathers.”

“Take heed, take heed! Do not tell this secret to anyone, even if the king questions you a great deal.”

“When your secrets are hidden in your heart, that wish of yours will be fulfilled sooner.”

The Prophet said that whoever keeps his secret hidden will soon be joined with his wish.

˹For instance,˺ when a seed is hidden in the earth, its secret becomes the greenness of the garden.

˹Or˺ if gold and silver were not hidden, when would they be nurtured within the mine?

The promises and kindnesses of that ˹divine˺ physician made that patient safe from fear.

There are true promises that are heart-pleasing, and there are false promises that are distressing.

The promise of the generous is a flowing treasure; the promise of the unworthy becomes torment of the soul.