When she had spoken these words, she drew a sharp dagger out of her gown and like lightning thrust it into his breast. He fell to the ground, a branch torn by the storm. She bent over him, the dripping dagger still in her hand. He opened eyes blurred by the shadow of death and from his trembling lips these words came with his weak breaths, “Come to me now, Beloved. Come to me, Layla, and do not leave me. Life is weaker than death, but death is weaker than love. Listen, do you hear the laughter of the guests at your wedding? Do you hear the clattering of their cups, Beloved? You have delivered me, Layla, from the torment of that laughter and the bitterness of that wine. Let me kiss the hand that broke my chains. Kiss my lips, kiss these lips that tried to lie and that concealed the secrets of my heart. Close my dimming eyes with fingers stained with my blood. When my spirit takes flight into space, put the dagger into my right hand and say to them that I killed myself in despair and jealousy. I love you, Layla, and I love no other, but I imagined that it would be better to sacrifice my heart, my happiness, and my life than to run away with you on your wedding night. Kiss me, beloved of my soul, before people see my body. Kiss me, kiss me, Layla!”

The fallen man placed his hand above his wounded heart, turned his head, and gave up his spirit.

The bride raised her head and, turning toward the house, cried in an awful voice, “Come, come, O people! The wedding is here, and this is the bridegroom. Come, so that we can show you our soft bridal bed. Awake, sleepers! Drunkards, come to your senses, and come quickly. We will show you the mysteries of love and death and life!”

The bride’s cry echoed in the corners of the house, carrying her words to the ears of the happy celebrants. Their spirits shuddered, and they listened for a moment as though sobriety had surprised them in their intoxication. Then they poured out of the house, looking to right and left as they went. When they saw the body of the fallen man and the bride kneeling near him, they drew back in horror. No one dared ask what had happened, for the blood flowing from the breast of the murdered man and the glint of the dagger in the hand of the bride had tied their tongues and frozen their spirits within them.