{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_3447/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_3447","id":"gutenberg_3447","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/3447","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Adventure","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Science-Fiction & Fantasy","Fairy tales","Tales -- Arab countries"],"text":"*******************************************************************\nTHIS EBOOK WAS ONE OF PROJECT GUTENBERG'S EARLY FILES PRODUCED AT A\nTIME WHEN PROOFING METHODS AND TOOLS WERE NOT WELL DEVELOPED. THERE\nIS AN IMPROVED EDITION OF THIS TITLE WHICH MAY BE VIEWED AS EBOOK\n(#60889) at https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/60889\n*******************************************************************\n\n\n\n\n                          SUPPLEMENTAL\n                             NIGHTS\n                  To The Book Of The Thousand\n                   And One Nights With Notes\n                      Anthropological And\n                          Explanatory\n\n                               By\n                       Richard F. Burton\n\n                          VOLUME THREE\n              Privately Printed By The Burton Club\n\n\n\n               To Henry Edward John, Lord Stanley\n                          of Alderley\n\n                              This\n             The Most Innocent Volume of the Nights\n               is Inscribed by His Old Companion,\n\n                                        The Author.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n               Contents of the Thirteenth Volume.\n\n\n\n1.   The Tale of Zayn Al-Asnam\n2.   Alaeddin; or, The Wonderful Lamp\n3.   Khudadad and His Brothers\n     a.   History of the Princess of Daryabar\n4.   The Caliph's Night Adventure\n     a.   The Story of the Blind Man, Baba Abdullah\n     b.   History of Sidi Nu'uman\n     c.   History of Khwajah Hasan Al-Habbal\n5.   Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves\n6.   Ali Khwajah and the Merchant of Baghdad\n7.   Prince Ahmad and the Fairy Peri-Banu\n8.   The Two Sisters Who Envied Their Cadette\n\n\n\n\n                APPENDIX: VARIANTS AND ANALOGUES\n                  of the Tales in Volume XIII.\n\n                       By W. A. Clouston.\n\n\n\nThe Tale of Zayn Al-Asnam\nAlaeddin; or, The Wonderful Lamp\nKhudadad and His Brothers\nThe Story of the Blind Man, Baba Abdullah\nHistory of Sisi Nu'uman\nHistory of Khwajah Hasan Al-Habbal\nAli Baba and the Forty Thieves\nAli Khwajah and the Merchant of Baghdad\nPrince Ahmad and the Fairy Peri-Banu\nThe Two Sisters Who Envied Their Cadette\n\nAdditional Notes:--\n\n     The Tale of Zayn Al-Asnam\n     Alaeddin; or, The Wonderful Lamp\n     Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves\n     Prince Ahmad and the Fairy Peri-Banu\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                   The Translator's Foreword.\n\n\n\nThe peculiar proceedings of the Curators, Bodleian Library, 1\nOxford, of which full particulars shall be given in due time,\nhave dislocated the order of my volumes. The Prospectus had\npromised that Tome III. should contain detached extracts from the\nMS. known as the Wortley-Montague, and that No. IV. and part of\nNo. V. should comprise a reproduction of the ten Tales (or\neleven, including \"The Princess of Dary\u00e1b\u00e1r\"), which have so long\nbeen generally attributed to Professor Galland. Circumstances,\nhowever, wholly beyond my control have now compelled me to devote\nthe whole of this volume to the Frenchman's stories.\n\nIt will hardly be doubted that for a complete recueil of The\nNights a retranslation of the Gallandian histoires is necessary.\nThe learned Professor Gustav Weil introduced them all, Germanised\nliterally from the French, into the Dritter Band of his\nwell-known version--Tausend und eine Nacht; and not a few readers\nof Mr. John Payne's admirable translation (the Villon) complained\nthat they had bought it in order to see Ali Baba, Aladdin, and\nothers translated into classical English and that they much\nregretted the absence of their old favourites.\n\nBut the modus operandi was my prime difficulty. I disliked the\nidea of an unartistic break or change in the style, ever\n\n          \"T\u00e2chnat de rendre mien cet air d'antiquit\u00e9,\"\n\nand I aimed at offering to my readers a homogeneous sequel. My\nfirst thought for securing uniformity of treatment was to tender\nthe French text into Arabic, and then to retranslate it into\nEnglish. This process, however, when tried was found wanting; so\nI made inquiries in all directions for versions of the Gallandian\nhistories which might have been published in Persian, Turkish, or\nHindustani. Though assisted by the Prince of London Bibliopoles,\nBernard Quaritch, I long failed to find my want: the vernaculars\nin Persian and Turkish are translated direct from the Arabic\ntexts, and all ignore the French stories. At last a friend,\nCameron McDowell, himself well known to the world of letters,\nsent me from Bombay a quaint lithograph with quainter\nillustrations which contained all I required. This was a version\nof Tot\u00e1r\u00e1m Sh\u00e1y\u00e1n (No. III.), which introduced the whole of the\nGallandian Tales: better still, these were sufficiently\norientalised and divested of their inordinate Gallicism,\nespecially their lonesome dialogue, by being converted into\nHindustani, the Urdu Zab\u00e1n (camp or court language) of Upper\nIndia and the Lingua Franca of the whole Peninsula.\n\nDuring one of my sundry visits to the British Museum, I was\nintroduced by Mr. Alexander G. Ellis to Mr. James F. Blumhardt,\nof Cambridge, who pointed out to me two other independent\nversions, one partly rhymed and partly in prose.\n\nThus far my work was done for me. Mr. Blumhardt, a practical\nOrientalist and teacher of the modem Prakrit tongues, kindly\nundertook, at my request, to English the Hindustani, collating at\nthe same time, the rival versions; and thus, at a moment when my\nhealth was at its worst, he saved me all trouble and labour\nexcept that of impressing the manner with my own sign manual, and\nof illustrating the text, where required, with notes\nanthropological and other.\n\nMeanwhile, part of my plan was modified by a visit to Paris in\nearly 1887. At the Biblioth\u00e8que Nationale I had the pleasure of\nmeeting M. Hermann Zotenberg, keeper of Eastern manuscripts, an\nOrientalist of high and varied talents, and especially famous for\nhis admirable Chronique de Tabari. Happily for me, he had lately\npurchased for the National Library, from a vendor who was utterly\nignorant of its history, a MS. copy of The Nights, containing the\nArabic originals of Zayn al-Asnam and Alaeddin. The two volumes\nfolio are numbered and docketed Suppl\u2044ment Arabe, Nos. 2522-23;\"\nthey measure 31 cent. by 20; Vol. i. contains 411 folios (822\npages) and Vol. ii. 402 (pp. 804); each page numbers fifteen\nlines, and each folio has its catchword. The paper is French,\nEnglish and Dutch, with four to five different marks, such as G.\nGautier; D. and C. Blaew; Pro Patri\u00e2 and others. The highly\ncharacteristic writing, which is the same throughout the two\nfolios, is easily recognised as that of Michel (Mikha\u00edl) Sabb\u00e1gh,\nthe Syrian, author of the Colombe Messag\u00e8re, published in Paris\nA.D. 1805, and accompanied by a translation by the celebrated\nSilvestre de Sacy (Chrestomathie iii. 365). This scribe also\ncopied, about 1810, for the same Orientalist, the Ikhw\u00e1n al-Saf\u00e1.\n\nI need say nothing more concerning this MS., which M. Zotenberg\npurposes to describe bibliographically in volume xxviii. of\nNotices et extraits des Manuscrits de la Biblioth\u00e8que rationale\npubli\u2044s par l'Academie des inscriptions et belles lettres. And\nthere will be a tirage \u00e0 part of 200-300 copies entitled Histoire\nd' 'Al\u00e1 al-D\u00een ou La Lampe Merveilleuse, Texte Arabe, publi\u2044 par\nH. Zotenberg, Paris, Imprimerie Nationale, 1888; including a most\nimportant contribution:--Sur quelques Manuscrits des Mille et une\nNuits et la traduction de Galland.[FN#1]\n\nThe learned and genial author has favoured me with proof sheets\nof his labours: it would be unfair to disclose the discoveries,\nsuch as the Manuscript Journals in the Biblioth\u00e8que Nationale\n(Nos. 15277 to 15280), which the illustrious Garland kept\nregularly till the end of his life, and his conversations with\n\"M. Hanna, Maronite d'Halep,\" alias Jean Dipi (Dippy, a\ncorruption of Diab): suffice it to say that they cast a clear and\nwholly original light upon the provenance of eight of the\nGallandian histories. I can, however, promise to all\n\"Aladdinists\" a rich harvest of facts which wholly displace those\nhitherto assumed to be factual. But for the satisfaction of my\nreaders I am compelled to quote the colophon of M. Zotenberg's\ngreat \"find\" (vol. ii.), as it bears upon a highly important\nquestion.\n\n\"And the finishing thereof was during the first decade of Jam\u00e1di the Second,\nof the one thousand and one hundred and fifteenth year of the Hegirah (= A.D.\n1703) by the transcription of the neediest of His slaves unto Almighty Allah,\nAhmad bin Mohammed al-Tar\u00e1d\u00ed, in Baghdad City: he was a Sh\u00e1fi'\u00ed of school, and\na Mosuli by birth, and a Baghdadi by residence, and he wrote it for his own\nuse, and upon it he imprinted his signet. So Allah save our lord Mohammed and\nHis Kin and Companions and assain them! Kab\u00edkaj.\"[FN#2]\n\nNow as this date corresponds with A.D. 1703, whereas Galland did begin\npublishing until 1705-1705 the original MS. of Ahmad al-Tar\u00e1d\u00ed could\nnot have been translated or adapted from the French; and although the\ntranscription by Mikhail Sabbagh, writing in 1805-10, may have\nintroduced modification borrowed from Galland, yet the scrupulous\nfidelity of his copy, shown by sundry marginal and other notes, lays\nthe suspicion that changes of importance have been introduced by him.\nRemains now only to find the original codex of Al-Tar\u00e1d\u00ed.\n\nI have noticed in my translation sundry passages which appear to\nbetray the Christian hand; but these are mostly of scanty\nconsequence in no wise affecting the genuineness of the text.\n\nThe history of Zayn al Asnam was copied from the Sabb\u00e1gh MS. and\nsent to me by M. Houdas, Professeur d'Arabe vulgaire a l'Ecole\ndes langues orientales vivantes; an Arabist, whose name is\nfavourably quoted in the French Colonies of Northern Africa M.\nZotenberg kindly lent me his own transcription of Alaeddin before\nsending it to print; and I can only regret that the dilatory\nproceedings of the Imprimerie Nationale, an establishment\nsupported by the State, and therefore ignoring the trammels of\nprivate industry, have prevented my revising the version now\nsubmitted to the public. This volume then begins with the two\nGallandian Tales, \"Zeyn Alasnam\" and \"Aladdin,\" whose Arabic\noriginal was discovered by M. Zotenberg during the last year:\nalthough separated in the French version, I have brought them\ntogether for the sake of uniformity. The other eight (or nine,\nincluding the Princess of Daryabar), entitled History of Khudadad\nand his Brothers, and the Princess of Daryabar;\n\nHistory of Khudadad and his Brothers, and the Princess of\nDaryabar;\nHistory of the Blind Man, Baba Abdullah;\nHistory of Sidi Nu'uman;\nHistory of Khwajah Hasan al-Habbal;\nHistory of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves;\nHistory of Ali Khwajah and the Merchant of Baghdad;\nHistory of Prince Ahmad and the Fairy Peri-banu;\nHistory of the two Sisters who envied their Cadette,\n\nare borrowed mainly from the Indian version of Tot\u00e1r\u00e1m Sh\u00e1y\u00e1n.\n\nAnd here I must quote the bibliographical notices concerning the\nsundry versions into Urdu or Hindustani which have been drawn up\nwith great diligence by Mr. Blumhardt.\n\n\"The earliest attempt to translate the Arabian Nights was made by Munshi Shams\nal-D\u00edn Ahmad Shirw\u00e1ni. A prose version of the first two hundred Nights made by\nhim 'for the use of the College at Fort St. George' was lithographed at Madras\nin the year A.H. 1252 (A.D. 1836) and published in 8vo volumes (pp. 517, 426)\nunder the title 'Hikayat ool jaleeah'[FN#3] (Hik\u00e1y\u00e1t al-jal\u00edlah). The\ntranslation was made from an Arabic original but it does not appear what\nedition was made use of. The translator had intended to bring out a version of\nthe entire work, but states in his preface that, being unable to procure the\nArabic of the other Nights, he could not proceed with the translation, and had\nto be content to publish only two hundred Nights. This version does not appear\nto have become popular, for no other edition seems to have been published. And\nthe author must not be confounded with Shaykh Ahmad Shirw\u00e1ni, who, in A.D.\n1814, printed an Arabic edition of the Arabian Nights Entertainments\n(Calcutta, Pereira) which also stopped at No. CC.\n\n\"The next translation was made by Munshi al-Kar\u00edm, likewise in prose. From the\npreface and colophon to this work it appears that 'Abd al-Kar\u00edm obtained a\ncopy of Edward Foster's English version of the Arabian Nights, and after two\nyears' labour completed a translation of the whole work in A.H. 1258 (A.D.\n1842). It was lithographed at the Mustafai Press at Kanp\u00far (Cawnpore) in the\nyear A.H. 1263 (A.D. 1847) and published in four vols., in two royal 8vos,\nlithographed; each containing two Jilds (or parts, pp. 276, 274; 214 and 195).\n\n\"A second edition appeared from the same press in A.H. 1270 (A.D. 1853) also\nin two vols. 8vo of two Jilds each (pp. 249, 245; 192, 176). Since then\nseveral other editions have been published at Cawnpore, at Lakhnau[FN#4] and\nalso at Bombay. This translation is written in an easy fluent style, omitting\nall coarseness of expression or objectionable passages, in language easily\nunderstood, and at the same time in good and elegant Hindustani. It is\ntherefore extremely popular, and selections from the 4th Jild have been taken\nas text books for the Indian Civil Service examinations. A Romanised Urdu\nversion of the first two Jilds according to Duncan Forbes' system of\ntransliteration, was made 'under the superintendence of T. W. H. Tolbort,' and\npublished under the editorship of F. Pincott in London, by W. H. Allen and Co.\nin 1882.[FN#5] There has been no attempt to divide this translation into\nNights: there are headings to the several tales and nothing more. To supply\nthis want, and also to furnish the public with a translation closer to the\noriginal, and one more intelligible to Eastern readers, and in accordance with\nOriental thought and feeling, a third translation was taken in hand by Tot\u00e1r\u00e1m\nSh\u00e1y\u00e1n, at the instance of Nawal Kishore, the well-known bookseller and\npublisher of Lucknow. The first edition of this translation was lithographed\nat Lucknow in the year A.H. 1284 (A.D. 1868) and published in a 4to vol. of\n1,080 pages under the title of Haz\u00e1r Dast\u00e1n.[FN#6] Tot\u00e1r\u00e1m Sh\u00e1y\u00e1n has followed\n'Abd al-Karim's arrangement of the whole work into four Jilds, each of which\nhas a separate pagination (pp. 304; 320, 232, and 224.) The third Jild has 251\nNights: the other three 250 each. The translation is virtually in prose, but\nit abounds in snatches of poetry, songs and couplets taken from the writings\nof Persian poets, and here and there a verse-rendering of bits of the story.\nThis translation, though substantially agreeing in the main with that of 'Abd\nal-Karim, yet differs widely from it in the treatment. It is full of flowery\nmetaphors and is written in a rich, ornate style full of Persian and Arabic\nwords and idioms, which renders it far less easy to understand than the simple\nlanguage of 'Abd al-Karim. Some passages have been considerably enlarged and\nsometimes contain quite different reading from that of 'Abd al-Karim with\noccasional additional matter. In other places descriptions have been much\ncurtailed so that although the thread of the story may be the same in both\ntranslations it is hard to believe that the two translators worked from the\nsame version. Unfortunately Tot\u00e1r\u00e1m Sh\u00e1y\u00e1n makes no mention at Ali the source\nwhence he made his translation whether English or Arabic. This translation\nreached its fourth edition in 1883, and has been published with the addition\nof several badly executed full-page illustrations evidently taken from English\nprints.\n\n\"Yet another translation of The Nights has been made into Hindustani, and this\na versified paraphrase, the work of three authors whose takhallus or noms de\nplume, were as follows: \"Nas\u00edm\" (Muhammad Asghar Ali Kh\u00e1n), translator of the\nfirst Jild, \"Sh\u00e1y\u00e1n\" (Tot\u00e1r\u00e1m Sh\u00e1y\u00e1n), who undertook the second and third\nJilds, and \"Chaman\" (Sh\u00e1d\u00ed L\u00e1l) by whom the fourth and last Jild was\ntranslated. The work is complete in 1,244 pages 4to, and was lithographed at\nLucknow; Jilds i.-iii. in A.H. 1278 (A.D. 1862) and Jild iv. in 1285 (A.D.\n1869). This translation is also divided into Nights, differing slightly from\nthe prose translation of Tot\u00e1r\u00e1m Sh\u00e1y\u00e1n, as the first Jild has 251 Nights and\nthe others 250 each.\"\n\nAnd now I have only to end this necessarily diffuse Foreword with\nmy sincerest thanks to Mr. Clouston, the Storiologist, who has\nbrought his wide experience of Folk-lore to bear upon the tales\nincluded in my Third Supplemental Volume; and to Dr. Steingass,\nwho during my absence from England kindly passed my proofs\nthrough the press.\n\nRICHARD F. BURTON.\n\nSauerbrunn-Rohitsch, Styria.\nSeptember 15, '87.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                      Supplemental Nights\n\n                       To The Book Of The\n\n                  Thousand Nights And A Night\n\n\n\n\n\n  When it was the Four Hundred and Ninety-seventh Night,[FN#7]\n\nQuoth Duny\u00e1z\u00e1d, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy,\ntell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the\nwaking hours of this our night;\" and Shahr\u00e1z\u00e1d replied, \"With\nlove and good will! I will relate to you\n\n\n\n\n                THE TALE OF ZAYN AL-ASNAM.[FN#8]\n\n\n\nIt hath reached me, O King of the Age, that in\nBassorah-city[FN#9] reigned a puissant Sultan, who was opulent\nexceedingly and who owned all the goods of life; but he lacked a\nchild which might inherit his wealth and dominion. So, being\nsorely sorrowful on this account, he arose and fell to doing\nabundant alms-deeds to Fak\u00edrs and the common poor, to the Hallows\nand other holy men and prayed their recourse to Allah Almighty,\nin order that the Lord (to whom belong Might and Majesty!) might\nof His grace bless him with issue. And the Compassionate accepted\nhis prayer for his alms to the Religious and deigned grant his\npetition; and one night of the nights after he lay with the Queen\nshe went away from him with child. Now as soon as the Sultan\nheard of the conception he rejoiced with exceeding great joyance,\nand when the days of delivery drew near he gathered together all\nthe astrologers and sages who strike the sand-board,[FN#10]and\nsaid to them, \"'Tis our desire that ye disclose and acquaint us\nanent the birth which is to be born during the present month\nwhether it shall be male or female, and what shall befal it from\nthe shifts of Time, and what shall proceed from it.\" Thereupon\nthe geomantists struck their sand-boards and the astrophils\nascertained their ascendants and they drew the horoscope of the\nbabe unborn, and said to the sovran, \"O King of the Age and Lord\nof the Time and the Tide, verily the child to which the Queen\nshall presently give birth will be a boy and 't will be right for\nthee to name him Zayn al-Asn\u00e1m--Zayn of the Images.\" Then spake\nthe geomantists, saying, \"Know then, Ho though the King, that\nthis little one shall approve him when grown to man's estate\nvaliant and intelligent; but his days shall happen upon sundry\ntroubles and travails, and yet if he doughtily fight against all\noccurrence he shall become the most opulent of the Kings of the\nWorld.\" Exclaimed the Sultan, \"An the child approve himself\nvalorous, as ye have announced, then the toil and moil which\nshall be his lot may be held for naught, inasmuch as calamities\nbut train and strengthen the songs of the Kings.\"[FN#11] Shortly\nafter this the Queen gave birth to a man-child, and Glory be to\nHim who fashioned the babe with such peerless beauty and\nloveliness! The King named his son Zayn al-Asnam, and presently\nhe became even as the poets sang of one of his fellows in\nsemblance,\n\n\"He showed; and they cried, 'Be Allah blest!'* And who made him and formed him His might attest!\nThis be surely the lord of all loveliness; * And all others his lieges and thralls be confest.\"\n\nThen Zayn al-Asnam grew up and increased until his age attained\nits fifteenth year, when his sire the Sultan appointed for him an\nexperienced governor, one versed in all the sciences and\nphilosophies;[FN#12] who fell to instructing him till such times\nas he waxed familiar with every branch of knowledge, and in due\nseason he became an adult. Thereupon the Sultan bade summon his\nson and heir to the presence together with the Lords of his land\nand the Notables of his lieges and addressed him before them with\nexcellent counsel saying, \"O my son, O Zayn al-Asnam, seeing that\nI be shotten in years and at the present time sick of a sickness\nwhich haply shall end my days in this world and which anon shall\nseat thee in my stead, therefore, I bequeath unto thee the\nfollowing charge. Beware, O my son, lest thou wrong any man, and\nincline not to cause the poor complain; but do justice to the\ninjured after the measure of thy might. Furthermore, have a care\nlest thou trust to every word spoken to thee by the Great; but\nrather lend thou ever an ear unto the voice of the general; for\nthat thy Grandees will betray thee as they seek only whatso\nsuiteth them, not that which suiteth thy subjects.\" A few days\nafter this time the old Sultan's distemper increased and his\nlifeterm was fulfilled and he died; whereupon his son, Zayn\nal-Asnam, arose and donned mourning-dress for his father during\nsix days; and on the seventh he went forth to the Divan and took\nseat upon the throne of his Sultanate. He also held a levee\nwherein were assembled all the defenders of the realm, and the\nMinisters and the Lords of the land came forward and condoled\nwith him for the loss of his parent and wished him all good\nfortune and gave him joy of his kingship and dominion and prayed\nfor his endurance in honour and his permanence in prosperity.\n--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to\nsay her permitted say.\n\n     When it was the Four Hundred and Ninety-eighth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy,\ntell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the\nwaking hours of this our night;\" and quoth Shahrazad:--It hath\nreached me, O King of the Age, that Zayn al-Asnam seeing himself\nin this high honour and opulence[FN#13] and he young in years and\nvoid of experience, straightway inclined unto lavish expenditure\nand commerce with the younglings, who were like him and fell to\nwasting immense wealth upon his pleasures; and neglected his\ngovernment, nor paid aught of regard to his subjects.[FN#14]\nThereupon the Queen-mother began to counsel him, and forbid him\nfrom such ill courses, advising him to abandon his perverse\ninclinations and apply his mind to rule and commandment, and to\nfurther the policy of his kingdom, lest the lieges repudiate him\nand rise up against him and depose him. But he would on no wise\nhearken to a single of her words and persisted in his ignorant\nfolly; whereat the folk murmured, inasmuch as the Lords of the\nland had put forth their hands to tyranny and oppression when\nthey saw the King lacking in regard for his Ryots. And presently\nthe commons rose up against Zayn al-Asnam and would have dealth\nharshly with him had not his mother been a woman of wits and\nwisdom and contrivance, dearly loved of the general. So she\ndirected the malcontents aright and promised them every good:\nthen she summoned her son Zayn al-Asnam and said to him, \"Behold,\nO my child, that which I foretold for thee, to wit that thou\nwastest thy realm and lavishest thy life to boot by persevering\nin what ignorance thou art; for that thou hast placed the\ngovernance of thy Kingdom in the hands of inexperienced youth and\nhast neglected the elders and hast dissipated thy moneys and the\nmoneys of the monarchy, and thou hast lavished all thy treasure\nupon wilfulness and carnal pleasuring.\" Zayn al-Asnam, awaking\nfrom the slumber of negligence, forthright accepted his mother's\ncounsel and, faring forth at once to the Diwan,[FN#15] he\nentrusted the management of the monarchy to certain old officers,\nmen of intelligence and experience. But he acted on this wise\nonly after Bassorah-town was ruined, inasmuch as he had not\nturned away from his ignorant folly before he had wasted and\nspoiled all the wealth of the Sultanate, and he had become\nutterly impoverished. Thereupon the Prince fell to repenting and\nregretting that which had been done by him, until the repose of\nsleep was destroyed for him and he shunned meat and drink; nor\ndid this cease until one night of the nights which had sped in\nsuch grief and thoughtfulness and vain regret until dawn drew\nnigh and his eyelids closed for a little while. Then an old and\nvenerable Shaykh appeared to him in a vision[FN#16] and said to\nhim, \"O Zayn al-Asnam, sorrow not; for after sorrow however sore\ncometh naught but joyance; and, would'st thou win free of this\nwoe, up and hie thee to Egypt where thou shalt find hoards of\nwealth which shall replace whatso thou hast wasted and will\ndouble it more than twofold.\" Now when the Prince was aroused\nfrom his sleep he recounted to his mother all he had seen in his\ndream; but his parent began to laugh at him, and he said to her,\n\"Mock me not: there is no help but that I wend Egypt-wards.\"\nRejoined she, \"O my son, believe not in swevens which be mere\nimbroglios of sleep and lying phantasies;\" and retorted saying,\n\"In very sooth my vision is true and the man whom I saw therein\nis of the Saints of Allah and his words are veridical.\" Then on a\nnight of the nights mounting horse alone and privily, he\nabandoned his Kingdom; and took the highway to Egypt; and he rode\nday and night until he reached Cairo-city. He entered it and saw\nit to be a mighty fine capital; then, tethering his steed he\nfound shelter in one of its Cathedral-mosques, and he worn out by\nweariness; however, when he had rested a little he fared forth\nand bought himself somewhat of food. After eating, his excessive\nfatigue caused him fall asleep in the mosque; nor had he slept\nlong ere the Shaykh[FN#17] appeared to him a second time in\nvision and said to him, \"O Zayn al-Asnam,\"--And Shahrazad was\nsurprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Four Hundred and Ninety-ninth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy,\ntell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the\nwaking hours of this our night,\" and quoth Shahrazad:--It hath\nreached me, O King of the Age, that the Shaykh again appeared to\nthe Prince in a vision and said to him, \"O Zayn al-Asnam, thou\nhast obeyed me in whatso I bade thee and I only made trial of\nthee to test an thou be valiant or a craven. But now I wot thy\nworth, inasmuch as thou hast accepted my words and thou hast\nacted upon my advice: so do thou return straightway to thy\ncapital and I will make thee a wealthy ruler, such an one that\nneither before thee was any king like unto thee nor shall any\nlike unto thee come after thee.\" Hereat Zayn al-Asnam awoke and\ncried \"Bismillah,--in the name of Allah, the Compassionating, the\nCompassionate--what be this Shaykh who verily persecuted me until\nI travelled to Cairo; and I having faith in him and holding that\nhe was either the Apostle (whom Allah save and assain!) or one of\nthe righteous Hallows of God; and there is no Majesty and there\nis no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! By the Lord,\nbut I did right well in not relating my dream to any save to my\nmother, and in warning none of my departure. I had full faith in\nthis oldster; but now, meseemeth, the man is not of those who\nknow the Truth (be He extolled and exalted!); so by Allah I will\ncast off all confidence in this Shaykh and his doings.\" With this\nresolve the Prince slept that night in the Mosque and on the\nmorrow took horse and after a few days of strenuous travel\narrived at his capital Bassorah. Herein he entered by night, and\nforthright went in to his mother who asked him, \"Say me, hast\nthou won aught of whatso the Shaykh promised thee?\" and he\nanswered her by acquainting her with all his adventure. Then she\napplied her to consoling and comforting him, saying, \"Grieve not,\nO my son; if Almighty Allah have apportioned unto thee aught thou\nshalt obtain it without toil and travail.[FN#18] But I would see\nthee wax sensible and wise, abandoning all these courses which\nhave landed thee in poverty, O my son; and shunning songstresses\nand commune with the inexperienced and the society of loose\nlivers, male and female. All such pleasures as these are for the\nsons of the ne'er-do-well, not for the scions of the Kings thy\npeers.\" Herewith Zayn al-Asnam sware an oath to bear in mind all\nshe might say to him, never to gainsay her commandments, nor\ndeviate from them a single hair's breadth; to abandon all she\nshould forbid him, and to fix his thoughts upon rule and\ngoverance. Then he addrest himself to sleep, and as he slumbered,\nthe Shaykh appeared to him a third time in vision, and said, \"O\nZayn al-Asnam, O thou valorous Prince; this very day, as soon as\nthou shalt have shaken off thy drowsiness, I will fulfil my\ncovenant with thee. So take with thee a pickaxe, and hie to such\na palace of thy sire, and turn up the ground, searching it well\nin such a place where thou wilt find that which shall enrich\nthee.\" As soon as the Prince awoke, he hastened to his mother in\nhuge joy and told her his tale; but she fell again to laughing at\nhim, and saying, \"O my child, indeed this old man maketh mock of\nthee and naught else; so get thyself clear of him.\" But Zayn\nal-Asnam replied, \"O mother mine, verily this Shaykh is soothfast\nand no liar: for the first time he but tried me and now he\nproposeth to perform his promise.\" Whereto his mother, \"At all\nevents, the work is not wearisome; so do thou whatso thou willest\neven as he bade thee. Make the trial and Inshallah--God\nwilling--return to me rejoicing; yet sore I fear lest thou come\nback to me and say, 'Sooth thou hast spoken in thy speech, O my\nmother!\" However Zayn al-Asnam took up a pickaxe and, descending\nto that part of the palace where his sire lay entombed, began to\ndig and to delve; nor had he worked a long while[FN#19] ere, lo\nand behold! there appeared to him a ring bedded in a marble slab.\nHe removed the stone and saw a ladder-like flight of steps\nwhereby he descended until he found a huge souterrain all\npillar'd and propped with columns of marble and alabaster. And\nwhen he entered the inner recesses he saw within the cave-like\nsouterrain a pavilion which bewildered his wits, and inside the\nsame stood eight jars[FN#20] of green jasper. So he said in his\nmind, \"What may be these jars and what may be stored\ntherein?\"--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and\nceased to say her permitted say.\n\n           When it was the full Five Hundredth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy,\ntell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the\nwaking hours of this our night,\" and quoth Shahrazad:--It hath\nreached me, O King of the Age, that when Zayn al-Asnam saw the\njars, he came forwards and unlidding them found each and every\nfull of antique[FN#21] golden pieces; so he hent a few in hand\nseen and going to his mother gave of them to her saying, \"Hast\nthou seen, O my mother?\" She marvelled at the matter and made\nanswer, \"Beware, O my son, of wasting this wealth as thou\ndissipatedst other aforetime;\" whereupon her son sware to her an\noath saying, \"Have no care, O my mother, nor be thy heart other\nthan good before me; and I desire that thou also find\nsatisfaction in mine actions.\" Presently she arose and went forth\nwith him, and the twain descended into the cavern-like souterrain\nand entered the pavilion, where the Queen saw that which\nwildereth the wits; and she made sure with her own eyes that the\njars were full of gold. But while they enjoyed the spectacle of\nthe treasure behold, they caught sight of a smaller jar\nwondrously wrought in green jasper; so Zayn al-Asnam opened it\nand found therein a golden key; whereupon quoth the Queen-mother,\n\"O my son, needs must this key have some door which it\nunlocketh.\" Accordingly they sought all about the souterrain and\nthe pavilion to find if there be a door or aught like thereto,\nand presently, seeing a wooden lock fast barred, they knew\nwherefor the key was intended. Presently the Prince applied it\nand opened the lock, whereupon the door of a palace gave\nadmittance, and when the twain entered they found it more\nspacious than the first pavilion and all illumined with a light\nwhich dazed the sight; yet not a wax-candle lit it up nor indeed\nwas there a recess for lamps. Hereat they marvelled and meditated\nand presently they discovered eight images[FN#22] of precious\nstones, all seated upon as many golden thrones, and each and\nevery was cut of one solid piece; and all the stones were pure\nand of the finest water and most precious of price. Zayn al-Asnam\nwas confounded hereat and said to his mother, \"Whence could my\nsire have obtained all these rare things?\" And the twain took\ntheir pleasure in gazing at them and considering them and both\nwondered to see a ninth throne unoccupied, when the Queen espied\na silken hanging whereon was inscribed, \"O my son, marvel not at\nthis mighty wealth which I have acquired by sore stress and\nstriving travail. But learn also that there existeth a Ninth\nStatue whose value is twenty-fold greater than these thou seest\nand, if thou would win it, hie thee again to Cairo-city. There\nthou shalt find a whilome slave of mine Mub\u00e1rak[FN#23] hight and\nhe will take thee and guide thee to the Statue; and 'twill be\neasy to find him on entering Cairo: the first person thou shalt\naccost will point out the house to thee, for that Mubarak is\nknown throughout the place.\" When Zayn al-Asnam had read this\nwrit he cried: \"O my mother, 'tis again my desire to wend my way\nCairo-wards and seek out this image; so do thou say how seest\nthou my vision, fact or fiction, after thou assuredst me saying,\n'This be an imbroglio of sleep?' However, at all events, O my\nmother, now there is no help for it but that I travel once more\nto Cairo.\" Replied she, \"O my child, seeing that thou be under\nthe protection of the Apostle of Allah (whom may He save and\nassain!) so do thou fare in safety, while I and thy Wazir will\norder thy reign in thine absence till such time as thou shalt\nreturn.\" Accordingly the Prince went forth and gat him ready and\nrode on till he reached Cairo where he asked for Mubarak's house.\nThe folk answered him saying, \"O my lord, this be a man than whom\nnone is wealthier or greater in boon deeds and bounties, and his\nhome is ever open to the stranger.\" Then they showed him the way\nand he followed it till he came to Mubarak's mansion where he\nknocked at the door and a slave of the black slaves opened to\nhim.--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased\nto say her permitted say.\n\n         When it was the Five Hundred and First Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy,\ntell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the\nwaking hours of this our night;\" and quoth Shahrazad:--It hath\nreached me, O King of the Age, that Zayn al-Asnam knocked at the\ndoor when a slave of Mubarak's black slaves came out to him and\nopening asked him, \"Who[FN#24] art thou and what is it thou\nwantest?\" The Prince answered, \"I am a foreigner from a far\ncountry, and I have heard of Mubarak thy lord that he is famed\nfor liberality and generosity; so that I come hither purposing to\nbecome his guest.\" Thereupon the chattel went in to his lord and,\nafter reporting the matter to him, came out and said to Zayn\nal-Asnam, \"O my lord, a blessing hath descended upon us by thy\nfootsteps. Do thou enter, for my master Mubarak awaiteth thee.\"\nTherewith the Prince passed into a court spacious exceedingly and\nall beautified with trees and waters, and the slave led him to\nthe pavilion wherein Mubarak was sitting. As the guest came in\nthe host straightway rose up and met him with cordial greeting\nand cried, \"A benediction hath alighted upon us and this night is\nthe most benedight of the nights by reason of thy coming to us!\nSo who are thou, O youth, and whence is thine arrival and whither\nis thine intent?\" He replied, \"I am Zayn al-Asnam and I seek one\nMubarak, a slave of the Sultan of Bassorah who deceased a year\nago, and I am his son.\" Mubarak rejoined, \"What sayest thou? Thou\nthe son of the King of Bassorah?\" and the other retorted, \"Yea,\nverily I am his son.\"[FN#25] Quoth Mubarak, \"In good sooth my\nlate lord the King of Bassorah left no son known to me! But what\nmay be thine age, O youth?\" \"Twenty years or so,\" quoth the\nPrince, presently adding, \"But thou, how long is it since thou\nleftest my sire?\" \"I left him eighteen years ago,\" said the\nother; \"but, O my child Zayn al-Asnam, by what sign canst thou\nassure me of thy being the son of my old master, the Sovran of\nBassorah?\" Said the Prince, \"Thou alone knowest that my father\nlaid out beneath his palace a souterrain,[FN#26] and in this he\nplaced forty jars of the finest green jasper, which he filled\nwith pieces of antique gold, also that within a pavilion he\nbuilded a second palace and set therein eight images of precious\nstones, each one of a single gem, and all seated upon royal seats\nof placer-gold.[FN#27] He also wrote upon a silken hanging a writ\nwhich I read and which bade me repair to thee and thou wouldst\ninform me concerning the Ninth Statue whereabouts it may be,\nassuring me that it is worth all the eight.\" Now when Mubarak\nheard these words, he fell at the feet of Zayn al-Asnam and\nkissed them exclaiming, \"Pardon me, O my lord, in very truth thou\nart the son of my old master;\" adding, presently, \"I have spread,\nO my lord, a feast[FN#28] for all the Grandess of Cairo and I\nwould that thy Highness honour it by thy presence.\" The Prince\nreplied, \"With love and the best will.\" Thereupon Mubarak arose\nand forewent Zayn al-Asnam to the saloon which was full of the\nLords of the land there gathered together, and here he seated\nhimself after stablishing Zayn al-Asnam in the place of honour.\nThen he bade the tables be spread and the feast be served and he\nwaited upon the Prince with arms crossed behind his back[FN#29]\nand at times falling upon his knees. So the Grandees of Cairo\nmarvelled to see Mubarak, one of the great men of the city,\nserving the youth and wondered with extreme wonderment, unknowing\nwhence the stranger was.--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn\nof day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n        When it was the Five Hundred and Second Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy,\ntell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the\nwaking hours of this our night,\" and quoth Shahrazad:--It hath\nreached me, O King of the Age, that Mubarak fell to waiting upon\nZayn al-Asnam the son of his old lord, and the Grandees of Cairo\nthere sitting marvelled to see Mubarak, one of the great men of\nthe city, serving the youth and wondered with extreme wonderment,\nunknowing whence the stranger was. After this they ate and drank\nand supped well and were cheered till at last Mubarak turned\ntowards them and said, \"O folk, admire not that I wait upon this\nyoung man with all worship and honour, for that he is the son of\nmy old lord, the Sultan of Bassorah, who bought me with his money\nand who died without manumitting me. I am, therefore, bound to do\nservice to his son, this my young lord, and all that my hand\npossesseth of money and munition belongeth to him nor own I aught\nthereof at all, at all.\" When the Grandees of Cairo heard these\nwords, they stood up before Zayn al-Asnam and salamed to him with\nmighty great respect and entreated him with high regard and\nblessed him. Then said the Prince, \"O assembly, I am in the\npresence of your worships, and be ye my witnesses. O Mubarak,\nthou art now freed and all thou hast of goods, gold and gear erst\nbelonging to us becometh henceforth thine own and thou art\nendowed with them for good each and every. Eke do thou ask whatso\nof importance thou wouldst have from me, for I will on no wise\nlet or stay thee in thy requiring it.\" With this Mubarak arose\nand kissed the hand of Zayn al-Asnam and thanked him for his\nboons, saying, \"O my lord, I wish for thee naught save thy weal,\nbut the wealth that is with me is altogether overmuch for my\nwants.\" Then the Prince abode with the Freedman four days, during\nwhich all the Grandees of Cairo made act of presence day by day\nto offer their salams as soon as they heard men say, \"This is the\nmaster of Mubarak and the monarch of Bassorah.\" And whenas the\nguest had taken his rest he said to his host, \"O Mubarak, my\ntarrying with thee hath been long; whereto said the other, \"Thou\nwottest, O my lord, that the matter whereinto thou comest to\nenquire is singular-rare, but that it also involveth risk of\ndeath, and I know not if thy valour can make the attainment\nthereto possible to thee.\" Rejoined Zayn al-Asnam, \"Know, O\nMubarak, that opulence is gained only by blood; nor cometh aught\nupon mankind save by determination and predestination of the\nCreator (be He glorified and magnified!); so look to thine own\nstoutness of heart and take thou no thought of me.\" Thereupon\nMubarak forthright bade his slaves get them ready for wayfare; so\nthey obeyed his bidding in all things and mounted horse and\ntravelled by light and dark over the wildest of wolds, every day\nseeing matters and marvels which bewildered their wits, sights\nthey had never seen in all their years, until they drew near unto\na certain place. There the party dismounted and Mubarak bade the\nnegro slaves and eunuchs abide on the spot saying to them, \"Do ye\nkeep watch and ward over the beasts of burthen and the horses\nuntil what time we return to you.\" After this the twain set out\ntogether afoot and quoth the Freedman to the Prince, \"O my lord,\nhere valiancy besitteth, for that now thou art in the land of the\nImage[FN#30] thou camest to seek.\" And they ceased not walking\ntill they reached a lake, a long water and a wide, where quoth\nMubarak to his companion, \"Know, O my lord, that anon will come\nto us a little craft bearing a banner of azure tinct and all its\nplanks are of chaunders and lign-aloes of Comorin, the most\nprecious of woods. And now I would charge thee with a charge the\nwhich must thou most diligently observe.\" Asked the other, \"Thou\nwilt see in that boat a boatman[FN#31] whose fashion is the\nreverse of man's; but beware, and again I say beware, lest thou\nutter a word, otherwise he will at once drown us.[FN#32] Learn\nalso that this stead belongeth to the King of the Jinns and that\neverything thou beholdest is the work of the Jann.\"--And\nShahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her\npermitted say.\n\n         When it was the Five Hundred and Third Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy,\ntell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the\nwaking hours of this our night,\" and quoth Shahrazad:--It hath\nreached me, O King of the Age, that Mubarak and Zayn al-Asnam\ncame upon a lake where, behold, they found a little craft whose\nplanks were of chaunders and lign-aloes of Comorin and therein\nstood a ferryman with the head of an elephant while the rest of\nhis body wore the semblance of a lion.[FN#33] Presently he\napproached them and winding his trunk around them[FN#34] lifted\nthem both into the boat and seated them beside himself: then he\nfell to paddling till he passed through the middle of the lake\nand he ceased not so doing until he had landed them on the\nfurther bank. Here the twain took ground and began to pace\nforwards, gazing around them the while and regarding the trees\nwhich bore for burthen ambergris and lign-aloes, sandal, cloves,\nand gelsamine,[FN#35] all with flowers and fruits bedrest whose\nodours broadened the breast and excited the sprite. There also\nthe birds warbled, with various voices, notes ravishing and\nrapturing the heart by the melodies of their musick. So Mubarak\nturned to the Prince and asked him saying, \"How seest thou this\nplace, O my lord?\" and the other answered, \"I deem, O Mubarak,\nthat in very truth this be the Paradise promised to us by the\nProphet (whom Allah save and assain!).\" Thence they fared\nforwards till they came upon a mighty fine palace all builded of\nemeralds and rubies with gates and doors of gold refined: it was\nfronted by a bridge one hundred and fifty cubits long to a\nbreadth of fifty, and the whole was one rib of a fish.[FN#36] At\nthe further end thereof stood innumerous hosts of the Jann, all\nfrightful of favour and fear-inspiring of figure and each and\nevery hent in hand javelins of steel which flashed to the sun\nlike December leven. Thereat quoth the Prince to his companion,\n\"This be a spectacle which ravisheth the wits;\" and quoth\nMubarak, \"It now behoveth that we abide in our places nor advance\nfurther lest there happen to us some mishap; and may Allah\nvouchsafe to us safety!\" Herewith he brought forth his pouch four\nstrips of a yellow silken stuff and zoning himself with one threw\nthe other over his shoulders;[FN#37] and he gave the two\nremaining pieces to the Prince that he might do with them on like\nwise. Next he dispread before either of them a waist shawl[FN#38]\nof white sendal and then he pulled out of his poke sundry\nprecious stones and scents and ambergris and eagle-wood;[FN#39]\nand, lastly, each took his seat upon his sahs, and when both were\nready Mubarak repeated the following words to the Prince and\ntaught him to pronounce them before the King of the Jann, \"O my\nlord, Sovran of the Spirits, we stand within thy precincts and we\nthrow ourselves on thy protection;\" whereto Zayn al-Asnam added,\n\"And I adjure him earnestly that he accept of us.\" But Mubarak\nrejoined, \"O my lord, by Allah I am in sore fear. Hear me! An he\ndetermine to accept us without hurt or harm he will approach us\nin the semblance of a man rare of beauty and comeliness but, if\nnot, he will assume a form frightful and terrifying. Now an thou\nsee him in his favourable shape do thou arise forthright and\nsalam to him and above all things beware lest thou step beyond\nthis thy cloth.\" The Prince replied, \"To hear is to obey,\" and the\nother continued, \"And let thy salam to him be thy saying, O King\nof the Sprites and Sovran of the Jann and Lord of Earth, my sire,\nthe whilome Sultan of Bassorah, whom the Angel of Death hath\nremoved (as is not hidden from thy Highness) was ever taken under\nthy protection and I, like him, come to thee sueing the same\nsafeguard.\"--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and\nceased to say her permitted say.\n\n         When it was the Five Hundred and Fourth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy,\ntell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the\nwaking hours of this our night,\" and quoth Shahrazad:--It hath\nreached me, O King of the Age, that Mubarak fell to lessoning\nZayn al-Asnam how he should salute the King of the Jinns, and\npursued, \"Likewise, O my lord, if he hail us with gladsome face\nof welcome he will doubtless say thee, 'Ask whatso thou wantest\nof me!' and the moment he giveth thee his word do thou at once\nprefer thy petition saying, O my lord, I require of thy Highness\nthe Ninth Statue than which is naught more precious in the world,\nand thou didst promise my father to vouchsafe me that same.\" And\nafter this Mubarak instructed his master how to address the King\nand crave of him the boon and how to bespeak him with pleasant\nspeech. Then he began his conjurations and fumigations and\nadjurations and recitations of words not understanded of any and\nbut little time elapsed before cold rain down railed and\nlightning flashed and thunder roared and thick darkness veiled\nearth's face. Presently came forth a mighty rushing wind and a\nvoice like an earthquake, the quake of earth on Judgment\nDay.[FN#40] The Prince, seeing these horrors and sighting that\nwhich he had never before seen or heard, trembled for terror in\nevery limb; but Mubarak fell to laughing at him and saying, \"Fear\nnot, O my lord: for that which thou dreadest is what we seek, for\nto us it is an earnest of glad tidings and success; so be thou\nsatisfied and hold thyself safe.\"[FN#41] After this the skies\nwaxed clear and serene exceedingly while perfumed winds and the\npurest scents breathed upon them; nor did a long time elapse ere\nthe King of the Jann presented himself under the semblance of a\nbeautiful man who had no peer in comeliness save and excepting\nHim who lacketh likeness and to Whom be honour and glory! He\ngazed at Zayn al-Asnam with a gladsome aspect and a riant,\nwhereat the Prince arose forthright and recited the string of\nbenedictions taught to him by his companion and the King said to\nhim with a smiling favour, \"O Zayn al-Asnam, verily I was wont to\nlove thy sire, the Sultan of Bassorah and, when he visited me\never, I used to give him an image of those thou sawest, each cut\nof a single gem; and thou also shalt presently become to me\nhonoured as thy father and yet more. Ere he died I charged him to\nwrite upon the silken curtain the writ thou readest and eke I\ngave promise and made covenant with him to take thee like thy\nparent under my safeguard and to gift thee as I gifted him with\nan image, to wit, the ninth, which is of greater worth than all\nthose viewed by thee. So now 'tis my desire to stand by my word\nand to afford thee my promised aid.\"--And Shahrazad was surprised\nby the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n         When it was the Five Hundred and Fifth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy,\ntell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the\nwaking hours of this our night,\" and quoth Shahrazad:--It hath\nreached me, O King of the Age, that the Lord of the Jann said to\nthe Prince, \"I will take thee under my safeguard and the Shaykh\nthou sawest in thy swevens was myself and I also 'twas who bade\nthee dig under thy palace down to the souterrain wherein thou\nsawest the crocks of gold and the figures of fine gems. I also\nwell know wherefore thou art come hither and I am he who caused\nthee to come and I will give thee what thou seekest, for all that\nI would not give it to thy sire. But 'tis on condition that thou\nreturn unto me bringing a damsel whose age is fifteen, a maiden\nwithout rival or likeness in loveliness; furthermore she must be\na pure virgin and a clean maid who hath never lusted for male nor\nhath ever been solicited of man;[FN#42] and lastly, thou must\nkeep faith with me in safeguarding the girl whenas thou returnest\nhither and beware lest thou play the traitor with her whilst thou\nbringest her to me.\" To this purport the Prince sware a mighty\nstrong oath adding, \"O my lord, thou hast indeed honoured me by\nrequiring of me such service, but truly 'twill be right hard for\nme to find a fair one like unto this; and, grant that I find one\nperfectly beautiful and young in years after the requirement of\nthy Highness, how shall I weet if she ever longed for mating with\nman or that male ever lusted for her?\" Replied the King, \"Right\nthou art, O Zayn al-Asnam, and verily this be a knowledge\nwhereunto the sons of men may on no wise attain. However, I will\ngive thee a mirror[FN#43] of my own whose virtue is this. When\nthou shalt sight a young lady whose beauty and loveliness please\nthee, do thou open the glass,[FN#44] and, if thou see therein her\nimage clear and undimmed, do thou learn forthright that she is a\nclean maid without aught of defect or default and endowed with\nevery praiseworthy quality. But if, contrariwise, the figure be\nfound darkened or clothed in uncleanness, do thou straightway\nknow that damsel is sullied by soil of sex. Shouldst thou find\nher pure and gifted with all manner good gifts, bring her to me\nbut beware not to offend with her and do villainy, and if thou\nkeep not faith and promise with me bear in mind that thou shalt\nlose thy life.\" Hereupon the Prince made a stable and solemn pact\nwith the King, a covenant of the sons of the Sultans which may\nnever be violated.--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of\nday and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n         When it was the Five Hundred and Sixth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, tell\nus one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the\nwaking hours of this our night,\" and quoth Shahrazad:--It hath\nreached me, O King of the Age, that the Prince Zayn al-Asnam made\na stable and trustworthy compact to keep faith with the King of\nthe Jann and never to play traitor thereto, but to bring the maid\nen tout bien et tout honneur to that potentate who made over to\nhim the mirror saying, \"O my son, take this looking-glass whereof\nI bespake thee and depart straightway.\" Thereupon the Prince and\nMubarak arose and, after blessing him, fared forth and journeyed\nback until they made the lakelet, where they sat but a little ere\nappeared the boat which had brought them bearing the Jinni with\nelephantine head and leonine body, and he was standing up ready\nfor paddling.[FN#45] The twain took passage with him (and this by\ncommand of the King of the Jann) until they reached Cairo and\nreturned to their quarters, where they abode whilst they rested\nfrom the travails of travel. Then the Prince turned to his\ncompanion and said, \"Arise with us and wend we to\nBaghdad[FN#46]-city that we may look for some damsel such as the\nKing describeth!\" and Mubarak replied, \"O my lord, we be in\nCairo, a city of the cities, a wonder of the world, and here no\ndoubt there is but that I shall find such a maiden, nor is there\nneed that we fare therefor to a far country.\" Zayn al-Asnam\nrejoined, \"True for thee, O Mubarak, but what be the will and the\nway whereby to hit upon such a girl, and who shall go about to\nfind her for us?\" Quoth the other, \"Be not beaten and broken\ndown, O my lord, by such difficulty: I have by me here an ancient\ndame (and cursed be the same!) who maketh marriages, and she is\npast mistress in wiles and guiles; nor will she be hindered by\nthe greatest of obstacles.\"[FN#47] So saying, he sent to summon\nthe old trot, and informed her that he wanted a damsel perfect of\nbeauty and not past her fifteenth year, whom he would marry to\nthe son of his lord; and he promised her sumptuous Bakhshish and\nlargesse if she would do her very best endeavour. Answered she,\n\"O my lord, be at rest: I will presently contrive to satisfy thy\nrequirement even beyond thy desire; for under my hand are damsels\nunsurpassable in beauty and loveliness, and all be the daughters\nof honourable men.\" But the old woman, O Lord of the Age, knew\nnaught anent the mirror. So she went forth to wander about the\ncity and work on her well-known ways.--And Shahrazad was\nsurprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n        When it was the Five Hundred and Seventh Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy,\ntell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the\nwaking hours of this our night,\" and quoth Shahrazad:--It hath\nreached me, O King of the Age, that the old woman went forth to\nwork on her well-known ways, and she wandered about town to find\na maiden for the Prince Zayn al-Asnam. Whatever notable beauty\nshe saw she would set before Mubarak; but each semblance as it\nwas considered in the mirror showed exceedingly dark and dull,\nand the inspector would dismiss the girl. This endured until the\ncrone had brought to him all the damsels in Cairo, and not one\nwas found whose reflection in the mirror showed clear-bright and\nwhose honour was pure and clean, in fact such an one as described\nby the King of the Jann. Herewith Mubarak, seeing that he had not\nfound one in Cairo to please him, or who proved pure and\nunsullied as the King of the Jann had required, determined to\nvisit Baghdad: so they rose up and equipped them and set out and\nin due time they made the City of Peace where they hired them a\nmighty fine mansion amiddlemost the capital. Here they settled\nthemselves in such comfort and luxury that the Lords of the land\nwould come daily to eat at their table, even the thirsty and\nthose who went forth betimes,[FN#48] and what remained of the\nmeat was distributed to the mesquin and the miserable; also every\npoor stranger lodging in the Mosques would come to the house and\nfind a meal. Therefore the bruit of them for generosity and\nliberality went abroad throughout the city and won for them\nnotable name and the fairest of fame; nor did any ever speak of\naught save the beneficence of Zayn al-Asnam and his generosity\nand his opulence. Now there chanced to be in one of the\ncathedral-mosques and Im\u00e1m,[FN#49] Abu Bakr hight, a ghostly man\npassing jealous and fulsome, who dwelt hard by the manion wherein\nthe Prince and Mubarak abode; and he, when he heard of their\nlavish gifts and alms deeds, and honourable report, smitten by\nenvy and malice and hatred, fell to devising how he might draw\nthem into some calamity that might despoil the goods they enjoyed\nand destroy their lives, for it is the wont of envy to fall not\nsave upon the fortunate. So one day of the days, as he lingered\nin the Mosque after mid-afternoon prayer, he came forwards amidst\nthe folk and cried, \"O ye, my brethren of the Faith which is true\nand who bear testimony to the unity of the Deity, I would have\nyou to weet that housed in this our quarter are two men which be\nstrangers, and haply ye have heard of them how they lavish and\nwaste immense sums of money, in fact moneys beyond measure, and\nfor my part I cannot but suspect that they are cutpurses and\nbrigands who commit robberies in their own country and who came\nhither to expend their spoils.\"--And Shahrazad was surprised by\nthe dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n         When it was the Five Hundred and Eighth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy,\ntell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the\nwaking hours of this our night,\" and quoth Shahrazad:--It hath\nreached me, O King of the Age, that the Imam in his jealousy of\nZayn al-Asnam and Mubarak said to the congregation, \"Verily they\nbe brigands and cutpurses;\" adding, \"O believers of Mohammed, I\ncounsel you in Allah's name that ye guard yourselves against such\naccurseds; for haply the Caliph shall in coming times hear of\nthese twain and ye also shall fall with them into\ncalamity.[FN#50] I have hastened to caution you, and having\nwarned you I wash my hands of your business, and after this do ye\nas ye judge fit.\" All those present replied with one voice,\n\"Indeed we will do whatso thou wishest us to do, O Abu Bakr!\" But\nwhen the Imam heard this from them he arose and, bringing forth\nink-case and reed-pen and a sheet of paper, began inditing an\naddress to the Commander of the Faithful, recounting all that was\nagainst the two strangers. However, by decree of Destiny, Mubarak\nchanced to be in the Mosque amongst the crowd when he heard the\naddress of the blameworthy Imam and how he purposed applying by\nletter to the Caliph. So he delayed not at all but returned home\nforthright and, taking an hundred dinars and packing up a parcel\nof costly clothes, silverwrought all, repaired in haste to the\nreverend's quarters and knocked at the door. The preacher came\nand opened to him, but sighting Mubarak he asked him in anger,\n\"What is't thou wantest and who art thou?\" Whereto the other\nanswered, \"I am Mubarak and at thy service, O my master the Imam\nAbu Bakr; and I come to thee from my lord the Emir Zayn al-Asnam\nwho, hearing of and learning thy religious knowledge and right\nfair repute in this city, would fain make acquaintance with thy\nWorship and do by thee whatso behoveth him. Also he hath sent me\nto thee with these garments and this spending-money, hoping\nexcuse of thee for that this be a minor matter compared with your\nHonour's deserts; but, Inshallah, after this he will not fail in\nwhatever to thee is due.\" As soon as Abu Bakr saw the coin and\ngold[FN#51] and the bundle of clothes, he answered Mubarak\nsaying, \"I crave pardon, O my lord, of thy master the Emir for\nthat I have been ashamed of waiting upon him and repentance is\nright hard upon me for that I have failed to do my devoir by him;\nwherefore I hope that thou wilt be my deputy in imploring him to\npardon my default and, the Creator willing, to-morrow I will do\nwhat is incumbent upon me and fare to offer my services and\nproffer the honour which beseemeth me.\" Rejoined Mubarak, \"The\nend of my master's wishes is to see thy worship, O my lord Abu\nBakr, and be exalted by thy presence and therethrough to win a\nblessing.\" So saying he bussed the reverend's hand and returned\nto his own place. On the next day, as Abu Bakr was leading the\ndawn-prayer of Friday, he took his station amongst the folk\namiddlemost the Mosque and cried, \"O, our brethren the Moslems\ngreat and small and folk of Mohammed one and all, know ye that\nenvy falleth not save upon the wealthy and praiseworthy and never\ndescendeth upon the mean and miserable. I would have you wot, as\nregards the two strangers whom yesterday I misspake, that one of\nthem is an Emir high in honour and son of most reputable parents,\nin lieu of being (as I was informed by one of his enviers) a\ncutpurse and a brigand. Of this matter I have made certain that\n'tis a lying report, so beware lest any of you say aught against\nhim or speak evil in regard to the Emir even as I heard\nyesterday; otherwise you will cast me and cast yourselves into\nthe sorest of calamities with the Prince of True Believers. For a\nman like this of exalted degree may not possibly take up his\nabode in our city of Baghdad unbeknown to the Caliph.\"--And\nShahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her\npermitted say.\n\n         When it was the Five Hundred and Ninth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy,\ntell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the\nwaking hours of this our night,\" and quoth Shahrazad:--It hath\nreached me, O King of the Age, that Abu Bakr the Imam uprooted on\nsuch wise from the minds of men the evil which he had implanted\nby his own words thrown out against the Emir Zayn al-Asnam. But\nwhen he had ended congregational prayers and returned to his\nhome, he donned his long gaberdine[FN#52] and made weighty his\nskirts and lengthened his sleeves, after which he took the road\nto the mansion of the Prince; and, when he went in, he stood up\nbefore the stranger and did him honour with the highmost\ndistinction. Now Zayn al-Asnam was by nature conscientious albeit\nyoung in years; so he returned the Imam Abu Bakr's civilities\nwith all courtesy and, seating himself beside him upon his\nhigh-raised divan, bade bring for him ambergris'd[FN#53] coffee.\nThen the tables were spread for breakfast and the twain ate and\ndrank their sufficiency, whereafter they fell to chatting like\nboon companions. Presently the Imam asked the Prince, saying, \"O\nmy lord Zayn al-Asnam, doth thy Highness design residing long in\nthis our city of Baghdad?\" and the other answered, \"Yes\nindeed,[FN#54] O our lord the Imam; 'tis my intention to tarry\nhere for a while until such time as my requirement shall be\nfulfilled.\" The Imam enquired, \"And what may be the requirement\nof my lord the Emir? Haply when I hear it I may devote my life\nthereto until I can fulfil it.\" Quoth the Prince, \"My object is\nto marry a maiden who must be comely exceedingly, aged fifteen\nyears; pure, chaste, virginal, whom man hath never soiled and who\nduring all her days never lusted for male kind: moreover, she\nmust be unique for beauty and loveliness.\" The Imam rejoined, \"O\nmy lord, this be a thing hard of finding indeed, hard\nexceedingly; but I know a damsel of that age who answereth to thy\ndescription. Her father, a Wazir who resigned succession and\noffice of his own freewill, now dwelleth in his mansion jealously\noverwatching his daughter and her education; and I opine that\nthis maiden will suit the fancy of thy Highness, whilst she will\nrejoice in an Emir such as thyself and eke her parents will be\nequally well pleased.\" The Prince replied, \"Inshallah, this\ndamsel whereof thou speakest will suit me and supply my want, and\nthe furtherance of my desire shall be at thy hands. But, O our\nlord the Imam, 'tis my wish first of all things to look upon her\nand see if she be pure or otherwise; and, as regarding her\nsingular comeliness, my convicion is that thy word sufficeth and\nthine avouchment is veridical. Of her purity, however, even thou\ncanst not bear sure and certain testimony in respect to that\ncondition.\" Asked the Imam, \"How is it possible for you, O my\nlord the Emir, to learn from her face aught of her and her\nhonour; also whether she be pure or not: indeed, if this be known\nto your Highness you must be an adept in physiognomy.[FN#55]\nHowever, if your Highness be willing to accompany me, I will bear\nyou to the mansion of her sire and make you acquainted with him,\nso shal he set her before you.\"--And Shahrazad was surprised by\nthe dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n         When it was the Five Hundred and Tenth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy,\ntell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the\nwaking hours of this our night,\" and quoth Shahrazad: --It hath\nreached me, O King of the Age, that the Imam Abu Bakr took the\nPrince and passed with him into the mansion of the Wazir; and,\nwhen they entered, both salam'd to the housemaster and he rose\nand received them with greetings especially when he learned that\nan Emir had visited him and he understood from the Imam that Zayn\nal-Asnam inclined to wed his daughter. So he summoned her to his\npresence and she came, whereupon he bade her raise her face-veil;\nand, when she did his bidding, the Prince considered her and was\namazed and perplexed at her beauty and loveliness, he never\nhaving seen aught that rivalled her in brightness and brilliancy.\nSo quoth he in his mind, \"Would to Heaven I could win a damsel\nlike this, albeit this one be to me unlawful.\" Thinking thus he\ndrew forth the mirror from his pouch and considered her image\ncarefully when, lo and behold! the crystal was bright and clean\nas virgin silver and when he eyed her semblance in the glass he\nsaw it pure as a white dove's. Then sent he forthright for the\nKazi and witnesses and they knotted the knot and wrote the writ\nand the bride was duly throned. Presently the Prince took the\nWazir his father-in-law into his own mansion, and to the young\nlady he sent a present of costly jewels and it was a notable\nmarriage-festival, none like it was ever seen; no, never. Zayn\nal-Asnam applied himself to inviting the folk right royally and\ndid honour due to Abu Bakr the Imam, giving him abundant gifts,\nand forwarded to the bride's father offerings of notable\nrarities. As soon as the wedding ended, Mubarak said to the\nPrince, \"O my lord, let us arise and wend our ways lest we lose\nour time in leisure, for that we sought is now found.\" Said the\nPrince, \"Right thou art;\" and, arising with his companion, the\ntwain fell to equipping them for travel and gat ready for the\nbride a covered litter[FN#56] to be carried by camels and they\nset out. Withal Mubarak well knew that the Prince was deep in\nlove to the young lady. So he took him aside and said to him, \"O\nmy lord Zayn al-Asnam, I would warn thee and enjoin thee to keep\nwatch and ward upon thy senses and passions and to observe and\npreserve the pledge by thee plighted to the King of the Jann.\" \"O\nMubarak,\" replied the Prince, \"an thou knew the love-longing and\necstasy which have befallen me of my love to this young lady,\nthou wouldst feel ruth for me! indeed I never think of aught else\nsave of taking her to Bassorah and of going in unto her.\" Mubarak\nrejoined. \"O my lord, keep thy faith and be not false to thy\npact, lest a sore harm betide thee and the loss of thy life as\nwell as that of the young lady.[FN#57] Remember the oath thou\nswarest nor suffer lust[FN#58] to lay thy reason low and despoil\nthee of all thy gains and thine honour and thy life.\" \"Do thou, O\nMubarak,\" retorted the Prince, \"become warden over her nor allow\nme ever to look upon her.\"--And Shahrazad was surprised by the\ndawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n        When it was the Five Hundred and Eleventh Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy,\ntell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the\nwaking hours of this our night,\" and quoth Shahrazad:--It hath\nreached me, O King of the Age, that Mubarak, after warning Zayn\nal-Asnam to protect the virgin-bride against himself, fell also\nto defending her as his deputy: also he prevented the Prince from\neven looking upon her. They then travelled along the road unto\nthe Island of the Jann, after[FN#59] they had passed by the line\nleading unto Misr.[FN#60] But when the bride saw that the wayfare\nhad waxed longsome nor had beheld her bridegroom for all that\ntime since the wedding-night, she turned to Mubarak and said,\n\"Allah upon thee; inform me, O Mubarak, by the life of thy lord\nthe Emir, have we fared this far distance by commandment of my\nbridegroom Prince Zayn al-Asnam?\" Said he, \"Ah, O my lady, sore\nindeed is thy case to me, yet must I disclose to thee the secret\nthereof which be this. Thou imaginest that Zayn al-Asnam, the\nKing of Bassorah, is thy bridegroom; but, alas! 'tis not so. He\nis no husband of thine; nay, the deed he drew up was a mere\npretext in the presence of thy parents and thy people; and now\nthou art going as a bride to the King of the Jann who required\nthee of the Prince.\" When the young lady heard these words, she\nfell to shedding tears and Zayn al-Asnam wept for her, weeping\nbitter tears from the excess of his love and affection. Then\nquoth the young lady, \"Ye have nor pity in you nor feeling for\nme; neither fear ye aught of Allah that, seeing in me a stranger\nmaiden ye cast me into a calamity like this. What reply shall ye\nreturn to the Lord on the Day of Reckoning for such treason ye\nwork upon me?\" However her words and her weeping availed her\nnaught, for that they stinted not wayfaring with her until they\nreached the King of the Jann, to whom they forthright on arrival\nmade offer of her. When he considered the damsel she pleased him,\nso he turned to Zayn al-Asnam and said to him, \"Verily the bride\nthou broughtest me is exceeding beautiful and passing of\nloveliness; yet lovelier and more beautiful to me appear thy true\nfaith and the mastery of thine own passions, thy marvellous\npurity and valiance of heart. So hie thee to thy home and the\nNinth Statue, wherefor thou askedst me, by thee shall be found\nbeside the other images, for I will send it by one of my slaves\nof the Jann.\" Hereupon Zayn al-Asnam kissed his hand and marched\nback with Mubarak to Cairo, where he would not abide long with\nhis companion, but, as soon as he was rested, of his extreme\nlonging and anxious yearning to see the Ninth Statue, he hastened\nhis travel homewards. Withal he ceased not to be thoughtful and\nsorrowful concerning his maiden-wife and on account of her beauty\nand loveliness, and he would fall to groaning and crying, \"O for\nmy lost joys whose cause wast thou, O singular in every charm and\nattraction, thou whom I bore away from thy parents and carried to\nthe King of the Jann. Alas, and woe worth the day!\"--And\nShahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her\npermitted say.\n\n        When it was the Five Hundred and Twelfth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy,\ntell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the\nwaking hours of this our night,\" and quoth Shahrazad:--It hath\nreached me, O King of the Age, that Zayn al-Asnam fell to chiding\nhimself for the deceit and treason which he had practised upon\nthe young lady's parents and for bringing and offering her to the\nKing of the Jann. Then he set out nor ceased travelling till such\ntime as he reached Bassorah, when he entered his palace; and,\nafter saluting his mother, he apprised her of all things that had\nbefallen him. She replied, \"Arise, O my son, that we may look\nupon the Ninth Statue, for I rejoice with extreme joy at its\nbeing in our possession.\" So both descended into the pavilion\nwhere stood the eight images of precious gems and here they found\na mighty marvel. 'Twas this. In lieu of seeing the Ninth Statue\nupon the golden throne, they found seated thereon the young lady\nwhose beauty suggested the sun. Zayn al-Asnam knew her at first\nsight and presently she addressed him saying, \"Marvel not for\nthat here thou findest me in place of that wherefor thou askedst;\nand I deem that thou shalt not regret nor repent when thou\nacceptest me instead of that thou soughtest.\" Said he, \"No, by\nAllah, O life-blood of my heart, verily thou art the end of every\nwish of me nor would I exchange thee for all the gems of the\nuniverse. Would thou knew what was the sorrow which surcharged me\non account of our separation and of my reflecting that I took\nthee from thy parents by fraud and I bore thee as a present to\nthe King of the Jann. Indeed I had well nigh determined to\nforfeit all my profit of the Ninth Statue and to bear thee away\nto Bassorah as my own bride, when my comrade and councillor\ndissuaded me from so doing lest I bring about my death and thy\ndeath.\" Nor had Zayn al-Asnam ended his words ere they heard the\nroar of thunderings that would rend a mount and shake the earth,\nwhereat the Queen-mother was seized with mighty fear and\naffright. But presently appeared the King of the Jinns who said\nto her, \"O my lady, fear not! 'Tis I, the protector of thy son\nwhom I fondly affect for the affection borne to me by his sire. I\nalso am he who manifested myself to him in his sleep; and my\nobject therein was to make trial of his valiance and to learn an\nhe could do violence to his passions for the sake of his promise,\nor whether the beauty of this lady would so tempt and allure him\nthat he could not keep his promise to me with due regard.\"--And\nShahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her\npermitted say.\n\n       When it was the Five Hundred and Thirteenth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy,\ntell us one of thy fair tales, so therewith we may cut short the\nwaking hours of this our night,\" and quoth Shahrazad:--It hath\nreached me, O King of the Age, that the King of the Jann said to\nthe Queen-mother, \"Indeed Zayn al-Asnam hath not kept faith and\ncovenant with all nicety as regards the young lady, in that he\nlonged for her to become his wife. However, I am assured that\nthis lapse befel him from man's natural and inherent frailty\nalbeit I repeatedly enjoined him to defend and protect her until\nhe concealed from her his face. I now accept[FN#61] this man's\nvalour and bestow her upon him to wife, for she is the Ninth\nStatue by me promised to him and she is fairer than all these\njewelled images, the like of her not being found in the whole\nworld of men save by the rarest of chances.\" Then the King of the\nJann turned to the Prince and said to him, \"O Emir Zayn al-Asnam,\nthis is thy bride: take her and enjoy her upon the one condition\nthat thou love her only nor choose for thyself another one in\naddition to her; and I pledge myself that her faith theewards\nwill be of the fairest.\" Hereupon the King of the Jann\ndisappeared and the Prince, gladdened and rejoicing, went forth\nwith the maiden and for his love and affection to her he paid to\nher the first cermonious visit that same night[FN#62] and he made\nbride-feasts and banquets throughout his realm and in due time he\nformally wedded her and went in unto her. Then he stablished\nhimself upon the throne of his kingship and ruled it, bidding and\nforbidding, and his consort became Queen of Bassorah. His mother\nleft this life a short while afterwards and they both mourned and\nlamented their loss. Lastly he lived with his wife in all joyance\nof life till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and the\nSeparator of societies.--And Shahrazad ceased to say her\npleasant[FN#63] say. Quoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, how rare is\nthy tale and delectable!\" whereto quoth Shahrazad, \"And what is\nthis compared with that I would relate to you on the coming night\nconcerning Alaeddin[FN#64] and the Enchanted Lamp, an this my\nlord the King leave me on life?\" The King said to himself, \"By\nAllah, I will not slay her until she tell me the whole tale.\"\n\n       When it was the Five Hundred and Fourteenth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad,[FN#65] to Shahrazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be\nother than sleepy, do tell us some of thy pleasant tales;\" and\nShahrazad began to relate the story of\n\n\n\n\n               ALAEDDIN; OR, THE WONDERFUL LAMP.\n\n\n\nIt hath reached me, O King of the Age, that there dwelt in a city\nof the cities of China a man which was a tailor, withal a pauper,\nand he had one son, Alaeddin hight. Now this boy had been from\nhis babyhood a ne'er-do-well, a scapegrace; and, when he reached\nhis tenth year, his father inclined to teach him his own trade;\nand, for that he was over indigent to expend money upon his\nlearning other work or craft or apprenticeship, he took the lad\ninto his shop that he might be taught tailoring. But, as Alaeddin\nwas a scapegrace and a ne'er-do-well and wont to play at all\ntimes with the gutter boys of the quarter, he would not sit in\nthe shop for a single day; nay, he would await his father's\nleaving it for some purpose, such as to meet a creditor, when he\nwould run off at once and fare forth to the gardens with the\nother scapegraces and low companions, his fellows. Such was his\ncase; counsel and castigation were of no avail, nor would he obey\neither parent in aught or learn any trade; and presently, for his\nsadness and sorrowing because of his son's vicious indolence, the\ntailor sickened and died. Alaeddin continued in his former ill\ncourses and, when his mother saw that her spouse had deceased,\nand that her son was a scapegrace and good for nothing at\nall[FN#66] she sold the shop and whatso was to be found therein\nand fell to spinning cotton yarn. By this toilsome industry she\nfed herself and found food for her son Alaeddin the scapegrace\nwho, seeing himself freed from bearing the severities of his\nsire, increased in idleness and low habits; nor would he ever\nstay at home save at meal-hours while his miserable wretched\nmother lived only by what her hands could spin until the youth\nhad reached his fifteenth year.--And Shahrazad was surprised by\nthe dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.\n\n       When it was the Five Hundred and Fifteenth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that when Alaeddin had come to his fifteenth year, it befel,\none day of the days, that as he was sitting about the quarter at\nplay with the vagabond boys behold, a Darwaysh from the Maghrib,\nthe Land of the Setting Sun, came up and stood gazing for solace\nupon the lads and he looked hard at Alaeddin and carefully\nconsidered his semblance, scarcely noticing his companions the\nwhile. Now this Darwaysh was a Moorman from Inner Marocco and he\nwas a magician who could upheap by his magic hill upon hill, and\nhe was also an adept in astrology. So after narrowly considering\nAlaeddin he said in himself, \"Verily, this is the lad I need and\nto find whom I have left my natal land.\" Presently he led one of\nthe children apart and questioned him anent the scapegrace\nsaying, \"Whose[FN#67] son is he?\" And he sought all information\nconcerning his condition and whatso related to him. After this he\nwalked up to Alaeddin and drawing him aside asked, \"O my son,\nhaply thou art the child of Such-an-one the tailor?\" and the lad\nanswered, \"Yes, O my lord, but 'tis long since he died.\" The\nMaghrabi,[FN#68] the Magician, hearing these words threw himself\nupon Alaeddin and wound his arms around his neck and fell to\nbussing him, weeping the while with tears trickling adown his\ncheeks. But when the lad saw the Moorman's case he was seized\nwith surprise thereat and questioned him, saying, \"What causeth\nthee weep, O my lord: and how camest thou to know my father?\"\n\"How canst thou, O my son,\" replied the Moorman, in a soft voice\nsaddened by emotion, \"question me with such query after informing\nme that thy father and my brother is deceased; for that he was my\nbrother-german and now I come from my adopted country and after\nlong exile I rejoiced with exceeding joy in the hope of looking\nupon him once more and condoling with him over the past; and now\nthou hast announced to me his demise. But blood hideth not from\nblood[FN#69] and it hath revealed to me that thou art my nephew,\nson of my brother, and I knew thee amongst all the lads, albeit\nthy father, when I parted from him, was yet unmarried.\"--And\nShahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her\npermitted say,\n\n       When it was the Five Hundred and Sixteenth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that the Maghrabi, the Magician, said to the tailor's\norphan, \"O my son Alaeddin and I have now failed in the mourning\nceremonies and have lost the delight I expected from meeting thy\nfather, my brother, whom after my long banishment I had hoped to\nsee once more ere I die; but far distance wrought me this trouble\nnor hath the creature aught of asylum from the Creator or\nartifice against the commandments of Allah Al-mighty.\" Then he\nagain clasped Alaeddin to his bosom crying, \"O my son, I have\nnone to condole with now save thyself; and thou standest in stead\nof thy sire, thou being his issue and representative and whoso\nleaveth issue dieth not,'[FN#70] O my child!\" So saying, the\nMagician put hand to purse and pulling out ten gold pieces gave\nthem to the lad asking, \"O my son, where is your house and where\ndwelleth she, thy mother, and my brother's widow?\" Presently\nAlaeddin arose with him and showed him the way to their home and\nmeanwhile Quoth the Wizard, \"O my son, take these moneys and give\nthem to thy mother, greeting her from me, and let her know that\nthine uncle, thy father's brother, hath reappeared from his exile\nand that Inshallah\u2014God willing\u2014on the morrow I will visit her\nto salute her with the salam and see the house wherein my brother\nwas homed and look upon the place where he lieth buried.\"\nThereupon Alaeddin kissed the Maghrabi's hand, and, after running\nin his joy at fullest speed to his mother's dwelling, entered to\nher clean contrariwise to his custom, inasmuch as he never came\nnear her save at meal-times only. And when he found her, the lad\nexclaimed in his delight, \"O my mother, I give thee glad tidings\nof mine uncle who hath returned from his exile and who now\nsendeth me to salute thee.\" \"O my son,\" she replied, \"meseemeth\nthou mockest me! Who is this uncle and how canst thou have an\nuncle in the bonds of life?\" He rejoined, \"How sayest thou, O my\nmother, that I have nor living uncles nor kinsmen, when this man\nis my father's own brother? Indeed he embraced me and bussed me,\nshedding tears the while, and bade me acquaint thee herewith.\"\nShe retorted, \"O my son, well I wot thou haddest an uncle, but he\nis now dead nor am I ware that thou hast other eme.\"--And\nShahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her\npermitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Seventeenth Night,\n\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that the Maroccan Magician fared forth next morning and fell\nto finding out Alaeddin, for his heart no longer permitted him to\npart from the lad; and, as he was to-ing and fro-ing about the\ncity-highways, he came face to face with him disporting himself,\nas was his wont, amongst the vagabonds and the scapegraces. So he\ndrew near to him and, taking his hand, embraced him and bussed\nhim, then pulled out of his poke two dinars and said, \"Hie thee\nto thy mother and give her these couple of ducats and tell her\nthat thine uncle would eat the evening-meal with you; so do thou\ntake these two gold pieces and prepare for us a succulent supper.\nBut before all things show me once more the way to your home.\"\n\"On my head and mine eyes be it, O my uncle,\" replied the lad and\nforewent him, pointing out the street leading to the house. Then\nthe Moorman left him and went his ways and Alaeddin ran home and,\ngiving the news and the two sequins to his parent, said, \"My\nuncle would sup with us.\" So she arose straightway and going to\nthe market-street bought all she required; then, returning to her\ndwelling she borrowed from the neighbours whatever was needed of\npans and platters and so forth and when the meal was cooked and\nsupper time came she said to Alaeddin \"O my child, the meat is\nready  but peradventure thine uncle wotteth not the way to our\ndwelling; so do thou fare forth and meet him on the road.\" He\nreplied, \"To hear is to obey,\" and before the twain ended talking\na knock was heard at the door. Alaeddin went out and opened when,\nbehold, the Maghrabi, the Magician, together with an eunuch\ncarrying the wine and the dessert fruits; so the lad led them in\nand the slave went about his business. The Moorman on entering\nsaluted his sister-in-law with the salami then began to shed\ntears and to question her saying, \"Where be the place whereon my\nbrother went to sit?\" She showed it to him, whereat he went up to\nit and prostrated himself in prayer[FN#71] and kissed the floor\ncrying, \"Ah, how scant is my satisfaction and how luckless is my\nlot, for that I have lost thee, O my brother, O vein of my eye!\"\nAnd after such fashion he continued weeping and wailing till he\nswooned away for excess of sobbing and lamentation; wherefor\nAlaeddin's mother was certified of his soothfastness. So coming\nup to him she raised him from the floor and said, \"What gain is\nthere in slaying thyself?\"--And Shahrazad was surprised by the\ndawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n     When it was the Five Hundred and Eighteenth Night,\n\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that Alaeddin's mother began consoling the Maghrabi, the\nMagician, and placed him upon the divan; and, as soon as he was\nseated at his ease and before the food-trays were served up, he\nfell to talking with her and saying, \"O wife of my brother, it\nmust be a wonder to thee how in all thy days thou never sawest me\nnor learnedst thou aught of me during the life-time of my brother\nwho hath found mercy.[FN#72] Now the reason is that forty years\nago I left this town and exiled myself from my birth-place and\nwandered forth over all the lands of Al-Hind and Al-Sind and\nentered Egypt and settled for a long time in its magnificent\ncity,[FN#73] which is one of the world-wonders, till at last I\nfared to the regions of the Setting Sun and abode for a space of\nthirty years in the Maroccan interior. Now one day of the days, O\nwife of my brother, as I was sitting alone at home, I fell to\nthinking of mine own country and of my birth place and of my\nbrother (who hath found mercy); and my yearning to see him waxed\nexcessive and I bewept and bewailed my strangerhood and distance\nfrom him. And at last my longings drave me home-wards until I\nresolved upon travelling to the region which was the falling-\nplace of my head[FN#74] and my homestead, to the end that I might\nagain see my brother. Then Quoth I to myself, 'O man,[FN#75] how\nlong wilt thou wander like a wild Arab from thy place of birth\nand native stead? Moreover, thou hast one brother and no more; so\nup with thee and travel and look upon him[FN#76] ere thou die;\nfor who wotteth the woes of the world and the changes of the\ndays?  'Twould be saddest regret an thou lie down to die without\nbeholding thy brother and Allah (laud be to the Lord!) hath\nvouchsafed thee ample wealth; and belike he may be straitened and\nin poor case, when thou wilt aid thy brother as well as see him.'\nSo I arose at once and equipped me for wayfare and recited the\nF\u00e1tihah; then, whenas Friday prayers ended, I mounted and\ntravelled to this town, after suffering manifold toils and\ntravails which I patiently endured whilst the Lord (to whom be\nhonour and glory!) veiled me with the veil of His protection. So\nI entered and whilst wandering about the streets, the day before\nyesterday, I beheld my brother's son Alaeddin disporting himself\nwith the boys and, by God the Great, O wife of my brother, the\nmoment I saw him this heart of mine went forth to him (for blood\nyearneth unto blood!), and my soul felt and informed me that he\nwas my very nephew. So I forgot all my travails and troubles at\nonce on sighting him and I was like to fly for joy; but, when he\ntold me of the dear one's departure to the ruth of Allah\nAlmighty, I fainted for stress of distress and disappointment.\nPerchance, however, my nephew hath informed thee of the pains\nwhich prevailed upon me; but after a fashion I am consoled by the\nsight of Alaeddin the legacy bequeathed to us by him who hath\nfound mercy for that 'whoso leaveth issue is not wholly\ndead.'\"[FN#77]--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day\nand ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n       When it was the Five Hundred and Nineteenth Night,\n\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that the Maghrabi, the Magician, said to Alaeddin's mother,\n\"Whoso leaveth issue is not wholly dead.\" And when he looked at\nhis sister-in-law she wept at these his words; so he turned to\nthe lad that he might cause her forget the mention of her mate,\nas a means of comforting her and also of completing his deceit,\nand asked him, saying, \"O my son Alaeddin what hast thou learned\nin the way of work and what is thy business? Say me, hast thou\nmastered any craft whereby to earn a livelihood for thyself and\nfor thy mother?\" The lad was abashed and put to shame and he hung\ndown his head and bowed his brow groundwards; but his parent\nspake out, \"How, forsooth? By Allah, he knoweth nothing at all, a\nchild so ungracious as this I never yet saw; no, never! All the\nday long he idleth away his time with the sons of the quarter,\nvagabonds like himself, and his father (O regret of me!) died not\nsave of dolour for him. And I also am now in piteous plight: I\nspin cotton and toil at my distaff, night and day, that I may\nearn a couple of scones of bread which we eat together. This is\nhis condition, O my brother-in-law; and, by the life of thee, he\ncometh not near me save at meal-times and none other. Indeed, I\nam thinking to lock the house-door nor ever open to him again but\nleave him to go and seek a livelihood whereby he can live, for\nthat I am now grown a woman in years and have no longer strength\nto toil and go about for a maintenance after this fashion. O\nAllah, I am compelled to provide him with daily bread when I\nrequire to be provided!\" Hereat the Moorman turned to Alaeddin\nand said, \"Why is this, O son of my brother, thou goest about in\nsuch ungraciousness? 'Tis a disgrace to thee and unsuitable for\nmen like thyself. Thou art a youth of sense, O my son, and the\nchild of honest folk, so 'tis for thee a shame that thy mother, a\nwoman in years, should struggle to support thee. And now that\nthou hast grown to man's estate it becometh thee to devise thee\nsome device whereby thou canst live, O my child. Look around thee\nand Alhamdolillah--praise be to Allah--in this our town are many\nteachers of all manner of crafts and nowhere are they more\nnumerous; so choose thee some calling which may please thee to\nthe end that I establish thee therein; and, when thou growest up,\nO my son, thou shalt have some business whereby to live. Haply\nthy father's industry may not be to thy liking; and, if so it be,\nchoose thee some other handicraft which suiteth thy fancy; then\nlet me know and I will aid thee with all I can, O my son.\" But\nwhen the Maghrabi saw that Alaeddin kept silence and made him no\nreply, he knew that the lad wanted none other occupation than a\nscapegrace-life, so he said to him, \"O son of my brother, let not\nmy words seem hard and harsh to thee, for, if despite all I say,\nthou still dislike to learn a craft, I will open thee a\nmerchant's store[FN#78] furnished with costliest stuffs and thou\nshalt become famous amongst the folk and take and give and buy\nand sell and be well known in the city.\" Now when Alaeddin heard\nthe words of his uncle the Moorman, and the design of making him\na Khw\u00e1jah[FN#79]--merchant and gentleman,--he joyed exceedingly\nknowing that such folk dress handsomely and fare delicately. So\nhe looked at the Maghrabi smiling and drooping his head\ngroundwards and saying with the tongue of the case that he was\ncontent.--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and\nceased to say her permitted say.\n\n       When it was the Five Hundred and Twentieth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that the Maghrabi, the Magician, looked at Alaeddin and saw\nhim smiling, whereby he understood that the lad was satisfied to\nbecome a trader. So he said to him, \"Since thou art content that\nI open thee a merchant's store and make thee a gentleman, do\nthou, O son of my brother, prove thyself a man and Inshallah--God\nwilling--to-morrow I will take thee to the bazar in the first\nplace and will have a fine suit of clothes cut out for thee, such\ngear as merchants wear; and, secondly, I will look after a store\nfor thee and keep my word.\" Now Alaeddin's mother had somewhat\ndoubted the Maroccan being her brother-in-law; but as soon as she\nheard his promise of opening a merchant's store for her son and\nsetting him up with stuffs and capital and so forth, the woman\ndecided and determined in her mind that this Maghrabi was in very\nsooth her husband's brother, seeing that no stranger man would do\nsuch goodly deed by her son. So she began directing the lad to\nthe right road and teaching him to cast ignorance from out his\nhead and to prove himself a man; moreover she bade him ever obey\nhis excellent uncle as though he were his son and to make up for\nthe time he had wasted in frowardness with his fellows. After\nthis she arose and spread the table, then served up supper; so\nall sat down and fell to eating and drinking, while the Maghrabi\nconversed with Alaeddin upon matters of business and the like,\nrejoicing him to such degree that he enjoyed no sleep that night.\nBut when the Moorman saw that the dark hours were passing by, and\nthe wine was drunken, he arose and sped to his own stead; but,\nere going, he agreed to return next morning and take Alaeddin and\nlook to his suit of merchant's clothes being cut out for him. And\nas soon as it was dawn, behold, the Maghrabi rapped at the door\nwhich was opened by Alaeddin's mother: the Moorman, however,\nwould not enter, but asked to take the lad with him to the\nmarket-street. Accordingly Alaeddin went forth to his uncle and,\nwishing him good morning, kissed his hand; and the Maroccan took\nhim by the hand and fared with him to the Bazar. There he entered\na clothier's shop containing all kinds of clothes and called for\na suit of the most sumptuous; whereat the merchant brought him\nout his need, all wholly fashioned and ready sewn, and the\nMoorman said to the lad, \"Choose, O my child, whatso pleaseth\nthee.\" Alaeddin rejoiced exceedingly seeing that his uncle had\ngiven him his choice, so he picked out the suit most to his own\nliking and the Maroccan paid to the merchant the price thereof in\nready money. Presently he led the lad to the Hamm\u00e1m-baths where\nthey bathed; then they came out and drank sherbets, after which\nAlaeddin arose and, donning his new dress in huge joy and\ndelight, went up to his uncle and kissed his hand and thanked him\nfor his favours.--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day\nand ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Twenty-first Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It has reached me, O King of the Age,\nthat the Maghrabi, the Magician, after leaving the Hamm\u00e1m with\nAlaeddin, took him and trudged with him to the Merchants' bazar;\nand, having diverted him by showing the market and its sellings\nand buyings, said to him, \"O my son, it besitteth thee to become\nfamiliar with the folk, especially with the merchants, so thou\nmayest learn of them merchant-craft, seeing that the same hath\nnow become thy calling.\" Then he led him forth and showed him the\ncity and its cathedral-mosques together with all the pleasant\nsights therein; and, lastly, made him enter a cook's shop. Here\ndinner was served to them on platters of silver and they dined\nwell and ate and drank their sufficiency, after which they went\ntheir ways. Presently the Moorman pointed out to Alaeddin the\npleasances and noble buildings, and went in with him to the\nSultan's Palace and diverted him with displaying all the\napartments which were mighty fine and grand; and led him finally\nto the Kh\u00e1n of stranger merchants where he himself had his abode.\nThen the Maroccan invited sundry traders which were in the\nCaravanserai; and they came and sat down to supper, when he\nnotified to them that the youth was his nephew, Alaeddin by name.\nAnd after they had eaten and drunken and night had fallen, he\nrose up and taking the lad with him led him back to his mother,\nwho no sooner saw her boy as he were one of the merchants[FN#80]\nthan her wits took flight and she waxed sad for very gladness.\nThen she fell to thanking her false connection, the Moorman, for\nall his benefits and said to him, \"O my brother-in-law, I can\nnever say enough though I expressed my gratitude to thee during\nthe rest of thy days and praised thee for the good deeds thou\nhast done by this my child.\" Thereupon Quoth the Maroccan, \"O\nwife of my brother, deem this not mere kindness of me, for that\nthe lad is mine own son and 'tis incumbent on me to stand in the\nstead of my brother, his sire. So be thou fully satisfied!\" And\nQuoth she, \"I pray Allah by the honour of the Hallows, the\nancients and the moderns, that He preserve thee and cause thee to\ncontinue, O my brother-in-law and prolong for me thy life; so\nshalt thou be a wing over-shadowing this orphan lad; and he shall\never be obedient to thine orders nor shall he do aught save\nwhatso thou biddest him thereunto.\" The Maghrabi replied, \"O wife\nof my brother, Alaeddin is now a man of sense and the son of\ngoodly folk, and I hope to Allah that he will follow in the\nfootsteps of his sire and cool thine eyes. But I regret that, to-\nmorrow being Friday, I shall not be able to open his shop, as\n'tis meeting day when all the merchants, after congregational\nprayer, go forth to the gardens and pleasances. On the\nSabbath,[FN#81] however, Inshallah!--an it please the Creator--we\nwill do our business. Meanwhile to-morrow I will come to thee\nbetimes and take Alaeddin for a pleasant stroll to the gardens\nand pleasances without the city which haply he may hitherto not\nhave beheld. There also he shall see the merchants and notables\nwho go forth to amuse themselves, so shall he become acquainted\nwith them and they with him.\"--And Shahrazad was surprised by the\ndawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n     When it was the Five Hundred and Twenty-second Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do tell\nus some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied, \"With love\nand good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that the\nMaghrabi went away and lay that night in his quarters; and early next\nmorning he came to the tailor's house and rapped at the door. Now\nAlaeddin (for stress of his delight in the new dress he had donned and\nfor the past day's enjoyment in the Hammam and in eating and drinking\nand gazing at the folk; expecting furthermore his uncle to come at dawn\nand carry him off on pleasuring to the gardens) had not slept a wink\nthat night, nor closed his eyelids, and would hardly believe it when\nday broke. But hearing the knock at the door he went out at once in hot\nhaste, like a spark of fire, and opened and saw his uncle, the\nMagician, who embraced him and kissed him. Then, taking his hand, the\nMoorman said to him as they fared forth together, \"O son of my brother,\nthis day will I show thee a sight thou never sawest in all thy life,\"\nand he began to make the lad laugh and cheer him with pleasant talk. So\ndoing they left the city-gate, and the Maroccan took to promenading\nwith Alaeddin amongst the gardens and to pointing out for his pleasure\nthe mighty fine pleasances and the marvellous high-builded[FN#82]\npavilions. And whenever they stood to stare at a garth or a mansion or\na palace the Maghrabi would say to his companion, \"Doth this please\nthee, O son of my brother?\" Alaeddin was nigh to fly with delight at\nseeing sights he had never seen in all his born days; and they ceased\nnot[FN#83] to stroll about and solace themselves until they waxed\naweary, when they entered a mighty grand garden which was nearhand, a\nplace that the heart delighted and the sight belighted; for that its\nswift-running rills flowed amidst the flowers and the waters jetted\nfrom the jaws of lions moulded in yellow brass like unto gold. So they\ntook seat over against a lakelet and rested a little while, and\nAlaeddin enjoyed himself with joy exceeding and fell to jesting with\nhis uncle and making merry with him as though the Magician were really\nhis father's brother. Presently the Maghrabi arose and loosing his\ngirdle drew forth from thereunder a bag full of victual, dried fruits\nand so forth, saying to Alaeddin, \"O my nephew, haply thou art become\nanhungered; so come forward and eat what thou needest.\" Accordingly the\nlad fell upon the food and the Moorman ate with him and they were\ngladdened and cheered by rest and good cheer. Then Quoth the Magician,\n\"Arise, O son of my brother, an thou be reposed and let us stroll\nonwards a little and reach the end of our walk.\" Thereupon Alaeddin\narose and the Maroccan paced with him from garden to garden until they\nleft all behind them and reached the base of a high and naked hill;\nwhen the lad who, during all his days, had never issued from the\ncity-gate and never in his life had walked such a walk as this, said to\nthe Maghrabi, \"O uncle mine, whither are we wending? We have left the\ngardens behind us one and all and have reached the barren\nhill-country;[FN#84] and, if the way be still long, I have no strength\nleft for walking: indeed I am ready to fall with fatigue. There are no\ngardens before us, so let us hark back and return to town.\" Said the\nMagician, \"No, O my son; this is the right road, nor are the gardens\nended for we are going to look at one which hath ne'er its like amongst\nthose of the Kings and all thou hast beheld are naught in comparison\ntherewith. Then gird thy courage to walk; thou art now a man,\nAlhamdolillah--praise be to Allah!\" Then the Maghrabi fell to soothing\nAlaeddin with soft words and telling him wondrous tales, lies as well\nas truth, until they reached the site intended by the African Magician\nwho had travelled from the Sunset-land to the regions of China for the\nsake thereof. And when they made the place, the Moorman said to\nAlaeddin, \"O son of my brother, sit thee down and take thy rest, for\nthis is the spot we are now seeking and, Inshallah, soon will I divert\nthee by displaying marvel-matters whose like not one in the world ever\nsaw; nor hath any solaced himself with gazing upon that which thou art\nabout to behold.\"--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and\nceased to say her permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Twenty-third Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that the Maghrabi wizard said to Alaeddin, \"No one of\ncreated beings hath enjoyed the sights thou art about to see. But\nwhen thou art rested, arise and seek some wood-chips and fuel\nsticks[FN#85] which be small and dry, wherewith we may kindle a\nfire: then will I show thee, O son of my brother, matters beyond\nthe range of matter.\"[FN#86] Now, when the lad heard these words,\nhe longed to look upon what his uncle was about to do and,\nforgetting his fatigue, he rose forthright and fell to gathering\nsmall wood-chips and dry sticks, and continued until the Moorman\ncried to him, \"Enough, O son of my brother!\" Presently the\nMagician brought out from his breast-pocket a casket which he\nopened, and drew from it all he needed of incense; then he\nfumigated and conjured and adjured, muttering words none might\nunderstand. And the ground straightway clave asunder after thick\ngloom and quake of earth and bellowings of thunder. Hereat\nAlaeddin was startled and so affrighted that he tried to fly;\nbut, when the African Magician saw his design, he waxed wroth\nwith exceeding wrath, for that without the lad his work would\nprofit him naught, the hidden hoard which he sought to open being\nnot to be opened save by means of Alaeddin. So noting this\nattempt to run away, the Magician arose and raising his hand\nsmote Alaeddin on the head a buffet so sore that well nigh his\nback-teeth were knocked out, and he fell swooning to the ground.\nBut after a time he revived by the magic of the Magician, and\ncried, weeping the while, \"O my uncle, what have I done that\ndeserveth from thee such a blow as this?\" Hereat the Maghrabi\nfell to soothing him, and said, \"O my son, 'tis my intent to make\nthee a man; therefore, do thou not gainsay me, for that I am\nthine uncle and like unto thy father. Obey me, therefore, in all\nI bid thee, and shortly thou shalt forget all this travail and\ntoil whenas thou shalt look upon the marvel-matters I am about to\nshow thee.\" And soon after the ground had cloven asunder before\nthe Maroccan it displayed a marble slab wherein was fixed a\ncopper ring. The Maghrabi, striking a geomantic table[FN#87]\nturned to Alaeddin, and said to him, \"An thou do all I shall bid\nthee, indeed thou shalt become wealthier than any of the kings,\nand for this reason, O my son, I struck thee, because here lieth\na hoard which is stored in thy name; and yet thou designedst to\nleave it and to levant. But now collect thy thoughts, and behold\nhow I opened earth by my spells and adjurations.\"--And Shahrazad\nwas surprised by the dawn of day, and ceased to say her permitted\nsay.\n\n     When it was the Five Hundred and Twenty-fourth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge,  that the Maghrabi, the Magician, said to Alaeddin, \"O my\nson, now collect thy thoughts! under yon stone wherein the ring\nis set lieth the treasure wherewith I acquainted thee: so set thy\nhand upon the ring and raise the slab, for that none other\namongst the folk, thyself excepted, hath power to open it, nor\nmay any of mortal birth, save thyself, set foot within this\nEnchanted Treasury which hath been kept for thee. But 'tis\nneedful that thou learn of me all wherewith I would charge thee;\nnor gainsay e'en a single syllable of my words. All this, O my\nchild, is for thy good; the hoard being of immense value, whose\nlike the kings of the world never accumulated, and do thou\nremember that 'tis for thee and me.\" So poor Alaeddin forgot his\nfatigue and buffet and tear-shedding, and he was dumbed and dazed\nat the Maghrabi's words and rejoiced that he was fated to become\nrich in such measure that not even the Sultans would be richer\nthan himself. Accordingly, he cried, \"O my uncle, bid me do all\nthou pleasest, for I will be obedient unto thy bidding.\" The\nMaghrabi replied, \"O my nephew, thou art to me as my own child\nand even dearer, for being my brother's son and for my having\nnone other kith and kin except thyself; and thou, O my child, art\nmy heir and successor.\" So saying, he went up to Alaeddin and\nkissed him and said, \"For whom do I intend these my labours?\nIndeed, each and every are for thy sake, O my son, to the end\nthat I may leave thee a rich man and one of the very greatest. So\ngainsay me not in all I shall say to thee, and now go up to\nyonder ring and uplift it as I bade thee.\" Alaeddin answered, \"O\nuncle mine, this ring is over heavy for me: I cannot raise it\nsingle-handed, so do thou also come forward and lend me strength\nand aidance towards uplifting it, for indeed I am young in\nyears.\" The Moorman replied, \"O son of my brother, we shall find\nit impossible to do aught if I assist thee, and all our efforts\nwould be in vain. But do thou set thy hand upon the ring and pull\nit up, and thou shalt raise the slab forth-right, and in very\nsooth I told thee that none can touch it save thyself. But whilst\nhaling at it cease not to pronounce thy name and the names of thy\nfather and mother, so 'twill rise at once to thee nor shalt thou\nfeel its weight.\" Thereupon the lad mustered up strength and girt\nthe loins of resolution and did as the Maroccan had bidden him,\nand hove up the slab with all ease when he pronounced his name\nand the names of his parents, even as the Magician had bidden\nhim. And as soon as the stone was raised he threw it aside.--And\nShahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her\npermitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Twenty-fifth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that after Alaeddin had raised the slab from over the\nentrance to the Hoard there appeared before him a Sard\u00e1b, a\nsouterrain, whereunto led a case of some twelve stairs and the\nMaghrabi said, \"O Alaeddin, collect thy thoughts and do whatso I\nbid thee to the minutest detail nor fail in aught thereof. Go\ndown with all care into yonder vault until thou reach the bottom\nand there shalt thou find a space divided into four halls,[FN#88]\nand in each of these thou shalt see four golden jars[FN#89] and\nothers of virgin or and silver. Beware, however, lest thou take\naught therefrom or touch them, nor allow thy gown or its skirts\neven to brush the jars or the walls. Leave them and fare forwards\nuntil thou reach the fourth hall without lingering for a single\nmoment on the way; and, if thou do aught contrary thereto thou\nwilt be at once transformed and become a black stone. When\nreaching the fourth hall thou wilt find therein a door which do\nthou open, and pronouncing the names thou spakest over the slab,\nenter there through into a garden adorned everywhere with fruit-\nbearing trees. This thou must traverse by a path thou wilt see in\nfront of thee measuring some fifty cubits long, beyond which thou\nwilt come upon an open saloon[FN#90] and therein a ladder of some\nthirty rungs. And thou shalt also see hanging from its ceiling\"--\nAnd Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say\nher permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Twenty-sixth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge,  that the Maghrabi, the Magician, fell to teaching Alaeddin\nhow he should descend into the Hoard and continued, \"On reaching\nthe saloon thou shalt there find a Lamp hanging from its ceiling;\nso mount the ladder and take that Lamp and place it in thy\nbreast-pocket after pouring out its contents; nor fear evil from\nit for thy clothes because its contents are not common\noil.[FN#91] And on return thou art allowed to pluck from the\ntrees whatso thou pleasest, for all is thine so long as the Lamp\nis in thy hand.\" Now when the Moorman ended his charge to\nAlaeddin, he drew off a seal-ring[FN#92] and put it upon the\nlad's forefinger saying, \"O my son, verily this signet shall free\nthee from all hurt and fear which may threaten thee, but only on\ncondition that thou bear in mind all I have told thee.[FN#93] So\narise straightway and go down the stairs, strengthening thy\npurpose and girding the loins of resolution: moreover fear not\nfor thou art now a man and no longer a child. And in shortest\ntime, O my son, thou shalt win thee immense riches and thou shalt\nbecome the wealthiest of the world.\" Accordingly, Alaeddin arose\nand descended into the souterrain, where he found the four halls,\neach containing four jars of gold and these he passed by, as the\nMaroccan had bidden him, with the utmost care and caution. Thence\nhe fared into the garden and walked along its length until he\nentered the saloon, where he mounted the ladder and took the Lamp\nwhich he extinguished, pouring out the oil which was therein, and\nplaced it in his breast-pocket. Presently, descending the ladder\nhe returned to the garden where he fell to gazing at the trees\nwhereupon sat birds glorifying with loud voices their great\nCreator. Now he had not observed them as he went in, but all\nthese trees bare for fruitage costly gems; moreover each had its\nown kind of growth and jewels of its peculiar sort; and these\nwere of every colour, green and white; yellow, red and other such\nbrilliant hues and the radiance flashing from these gems paled\nthe rays of the sun in forenoon sheen. Furthermore the size of\neach stone so far surpassed description that no King of the Kings\nof the world owned a single gem equal to the larger sort nor\ncould boast of even one half the size of the smaller kind of\nthem.--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased\nto say her permitted say.\n\n     When it was the Five Hundred and Twenty-seventh Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that Alaeddin walked amongst the trees and gazed upon them\nand other things which surprised the sight and bewildered the\nwits; and, as he considered them, he saw that in lieu of common\nfruits the produce was of mighty fine jewels and precious\nstones,[FN#94]  such as emeralds and diamonds; rubies, spinels\nand balasses, pearls and similar gems astounding the mental\nvision of man. And forasmuch as the lad had never beheld things\nlike these during his born days nor had reached those years of\ndiscretion which would teach him the worth of such valuables (he\nbeing still but a little lad), he fancied that all these jewels\nwere of glass or crystal. So he collected them until he had\nfilled his breast-pockets and began to certify himself if they\nwere or were not common fruits, such as grapes, figs and such\nlike edibles. But seeing them of glassy substance, he, in his\nignorance of precious stones and their prices, gathered into his\nbreast-pockets every kind of growth the trees afforded; and,\nhaving failed of his purpose in finding them food, he said in his\nmind, \"I will collect a portion of these glass fruits for\nplaythings at home.\" So he fell to plucking them in quantities\nand cramming them in his pokes and breast-pockets till these were\nstuffed full; after which he picked others which he placed in his\nwaist-shawl and then, girding himself therewith, carried off all\nhe availed to, purposing to place them in the house by way of\nornaments and, as hath been mentioned, never imagining that they\nwere other than glass. Then he hurried his pace in fear of his\nuncle, the Maghrabi, until he had passed through the four halls\nand lastly on his return reached the souterrain where he cast not\na look at the jars of gold, albeit he was able and allowed to\ntake of the contents on his way back. But when he came to the\nsouterrain-stairs[FN#95] and clomb the steps till naught remained\nbut the last; and, finding this higher than all the others, he\nwas unable alone and unassisted, burthened moreover as he was, to\nmount it. So he said to the Maghrabi, \"O my uncle, lend me thy\nhand and aid me to climb;\" but the Moorman answered, \"O my son,\ngive me the Lamp and lighten thy load; belike 'tis that weigheth\nthee down.\" The lad rejoined, \"O my uncle, 'tis not the Lamp\ndownweigheth me at all; but do thou lend me a hand and as soon as\nI reach ground I will give it to thee.\" Hereat the Maroccan, the\nMagician, whose only object was the Lamp and none other, began to\ninsist upon Alaeddin giving it to him at once; but the lad\n(forasmuch as he had placed it at the bottom of his breast-pocket\nand his other pouches being full of gems bulged outwards)[FN#96]\ncould not reach it with his fingers to hand it over, so the\nwizard after much vain persistency in requiring what his nephew\nwas unable to give, fell to raging with furious rage and to\ndemanding the Lamp whilst Alaeddin could not get at it.--And\nShahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her\npermitted say.\n\n     When it was the Five Hundred and Twenty-eighth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that Alaeddin could not get at the Lamp so as to hand it to\nhis uncle the Maghrabi, that false felon, so the Magician waxed\nfoolish with fury for that he could not win to his wish. Yet had\nthe lad promised truthfully that he would give it up as soon as\nhe might reach ground, without lying thought or ill-intent. But\nwhen the Moorman saw that he would not hand it over, he waxed\nwroth with wrath exceeding and cut off all his hopes of winning\nit; so he conjured and adjured and cast incense amiddlemost the\nfire, when forthright the slab made a cover of itself, and by the\nmight of magic ridded the entrance; the earth buried the stone as\nit was aforetime and Alaeddin, unable to issue forth, remained\nunderground. Now the Sorcerer was a stranger, and, as we have\nmentioned, no uncle of Alaeddin's, and he had misrepresented\nhimself and preferred a lying claim, to the end that he might\nobtain the Lamp by means of the lad for whom his Hoard had been\nupstored. So the Accursed heaped the earth over him and left him\nto die of hunger. For this Maghrabi was an African of Afrik\u00edyah\nproper, born in the Inner Sunset-land, and from his earliest age\nupwards he had been addicted to witchcraft and had studied and\npracticed every manner of occult science, for which unholy lore\nthe city of Africa[FN#97] is notorious. And he ceased not to read\nand hear lectures until he had become a past-master in all such\nknowledge. And of the abounding skill in spells and conjurations\nwhich he had acquired by the perusing and the lessoning of forty\nyears, one day of the days he discovered by devilish inspiration\nthat there lay in an extreme city of the cities of China, named\nAl-Kal'\u00e1s,[FN#98] an immense Hoard, the like whereof none of the\nKings in this world had ever accumulated: moreover, that the most\nmarvellous article in this Enchanted Treasure was a wonderful\nLamp which, whoso possessed, could not possibly be surpassed by\nany man upon earth, either in high degree or in wealth and\nopulence; nor could the mightiest monarch of the universe attain\nto the all-sufficiency of this Lamp with its might of magical\nmeans.--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased\nto say her permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Twenty-ninth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales.\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that when the Maghrabi assured himself by his science and\nsaw that this Hoard could be opened only by the presence of a lad\nnamed Alaeddin, of pauper family and abiding in that very city,\nand learnt how taking it would be easy and without hardships, he\nstraightway and without stay or delay equipped himself for a\nvoyage to China (as we have already told) and he did what he did\nwith Alaeddin fancying that he would become Lord of the Lamp. But\nhis attempt and his hopes were baffled and his work was clean\nwasted; whereupon, determining to do the lad die, he heaped up\nthe earth over him by gramarye to the end that the unfortunate\nmight perish, reflecting that \"The live man hath no\nmurtherer.\"[FN#99] Secondly, he did so with the design that, as\nAlaeddin could not come forth from underground, he would also be\nimpotent to bring out the Lamp from the souterrain. So presently\nhe wended his ways and retired to his own land, Africa, a sadder\nman and disappointed of all his expectations. Such was the case\nwith the Wizard; but as regards Alaeddin when the earth was\nheaped over him, he began shouting to the Moorman whom he\nbelieved to be his uncle, and praying him to lend a hand that he\nmight issue from the souterrain and return to earth's surface;\nbut, however loudly he cried, none was found to reply. At that\nmoment he comprehended the sleight which the Maroccan had played\nupon him, and that the man was no uncle but a liar and a wizard.\nThen the unhappy despaired of life, and learned to his sorrow\nthat there was no escape for him; so he fell to beweeping with\nsore weeping the calamity had befallen him; and after a little\nwhile he stood up and descended the stairs to see if Allah\nAlmighty had lightened his grief-load by leaving a door of issue.\nSo he turned him to the right and to the left but he saw naught\nsave darkness and four walls closed upon him, for that the\nMagician had by his magic locked all the doors and had shut up\neven the garden, wherethrough the lad erst had passed, lest it\noffer him the means of issuing out upon earth's surface, and that\nhe might surely die. Then Alaeddin's weeping waxed sorer, and his\nwailing louder whenas he found all the doors fast shut, for he\nhad thought to solace himself awhile in the garden. But when he\nfelt that all were locked, he fell to shedding tears and\nlamenting like unto one who hath lost his every hope, and he\nreturned to sit upon the stairs of the flight whereby he had\nentered the souterrain.--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn\nof day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n       When it was the Five Hundred and Thirtieth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that Alaeddin sat down upon the stair of the vault weeping\nand wailing and wanting all hopes. But it is a light matter for\nAllah (be He exalted and extolled !) whenas He designeth aught to\nsay, \"Be\" and it becometh; for that He createth joy in the midst\nof annoy; and on this wise it was with Alaeddin. Whilst the\nMaghrabi, the Magician, was sending him down into the souterrain\nhe set upon his finger by way of gift, a seal ring and said,\n\"Verily, this signet shall save thee from every strait an thou\nfall into calamity and ill shifts of time; and it shall remove\nfrom thee all hurt and harm, and aid thee with a strong arm\nwhereso thou mayest be set.\"[FN#100] Now this was by destiny of\nGod the Great, that it might be the means of Alaeddin's escape;\nfor whilst he sat wailing and weeping over his case and cast away\nall hope of life, and utter misery overwhelmed him, he rubbed his\nhands together for excess of sorrow, as is the wont of the\nwoeful; then, raising them in supplication to Allah, he cried, \"I\ntestify that there is no God save Thou alone, The Most Great, the\nOmnipotent, the All-Conquering, Quickener of the dead, Creator of\nman's need and Granter thereof, Resolver of his difficulties and\nduresse and Bringer of joy not of annoy. Thou art my sufficiency\nand Thou art the Truest of Trustees. And I bear witness that\nMohammed is Thy servant and Thine Apostle and I supplicate Thee,\nO my God, by his favour with Thee to free me from this my foul\nplight.\" And whilst he implored the Lord and was chafing his\nhands in the soreness of his sorrow for that had befallen him of\ncalamity, his fingers chanced to rub the Ring when, lo and\nbehold! forthright its Familiar rose upright before him and\ncried, \"Adsum; thy slave between thy hands is come! Ask whatso\nthou wantest, for that I am the thrall of him on whose hand is\nthe Ring, the Signet of my lord and master.\" Hereat the lad\nlooked at him and saw standing before him a M\u00e1rid like unto an\nIfr\u00edt[FN#101] of our lord Solomon's Jinns. He trembled at the\nterrible sight; but, hearing the Slave of the Ring say, \"Ask\nwhatso thou wantest, verily, I am thy thrall, seeing that the\nsignet of my lord be upon thy finger,\" he recovered his spirits\nand remembered the Moorman's saying when giving him the Ring. So\nhe rejoiced exceedingly and became brave and cried, \"Ho thou;\nSlave of the Lord of the Ring, I desire thee to set me upon the\nface of earth.\" And hardly had he spoken this speech when\nsuddenly the ground clave asunder and he found himself at the\ndoor of the Hoard and outside it in full view of the world. Now\nfor three whole days he had been sitting in the darkness of the\nTreasury underground and when the sheen of day and the shine of\nsun smote his face he found himself unable to keep his eyes open;\nso he began to unclose the lids a little and to close them a\nlittle until his eyeballs regained force and got used to the\nlight and were purged of the noisome murk.--And Shahrazad was\nsurprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Thirty-first Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell me some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that Alaeddin, issuing from the Treasury, opened his eyes\nafter a short space of time and saw himself upon earth's surface,\nthe which rejoiced him exceedingly, and withal he was astounded\nat finding himself without the Hoard-door whereby he had passed\nin when it was opened by the Maghrabi, the Magician; especially\nas the adit had been lidded and the ground had been smoothed,\nshowing no sign whatever of entrance. Thereat his surprise\nincreased until he fancied himself in another place, nor was his\nmind convinced that the stead was the same until he saw the spot\nwhereupon they had kindled the fire of wood-chips and dried\nsticks, and where the African Wizard had conjured over the\nincense. Then he turned him rightwards and leftwards and sighted\nthe gardens from afar and his eyes recognized the road whereby he\nhad come. So he returned thanks to Allah Almighty who had\nrestored him to the face of earth and had freed him from death\nafter he had cut off all hopes of life. Presently he arose and\nwalked along the way to the town, which now he well knew, until\nhe entered the streets and passed on to his own home. Then he\nwent in to his mother and on seeing her, of the overwhelming\nstress of joy at his escape and the memory of past affright and\nthe hardships he had borne and the pangs of hunger, he fell to\nthe ground before his parent in a fainting-fit. Now his mother\nhad been passing sad since the time of his leaving her and he\nfound her moaning and crying about him; however on sighting him\nenter the house she joyed with exceeding joy, but soon was\noverwhelmed with woe when he sank upon the ground swooning before\nher eyes. Still,[FN#102] she did not neglect the matter or treat\nit lightly, but at once hastened to sprinkle water upon his face\nand after she asked of the neighbours some scents which she made\nhim snuff up. And when he came round a little, he prayed her to\nbring him somewhat of food saying, \"O my mother 'tis now three\ndays since I ate anything at all.\" Thereupon she arose and\nbrought him what she had by her; then, setting it before him,\nsaid, \"Come forward, O my son; eat and be cheered[FN#103] and,\nwhen thou shalt have rested, tell me what hath betided and\naffected thee, O my child; at this present I will not question\nthee for thou art aweary in very deed.\"--And Shahrazad was\nsurprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n     When it was the Five Hundred and Thirty-second Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell me some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that Alaeddin ate and drank and was cheered and after he had\nrested and had recovered spirits he cried, \"Ah, O my mother, I\nhave a sore grievance against thee for leaving me to that\naccursed wight who strave to compass my destruction and designed\nto take my life.[FN#104] Know that I beheld Death with mine own\neyes at the hand of this damned wretch, whom thou didst certify\nto be my uncle; and, had not Almighty Allah rescued me from him,\nI and thou, O my mother, had been cozened by the excess of this\nAccursed's promises to work my welfare, and by the great show of\naffection which he manifested to us. Learn, O my mother, that\nthis fellow is a sorcerer, a Moorman, an accursed, a liar, a\ntraitor, a hypocrite;[FN#105]  nor deem I that the devils under\nthe earth are damnable as he. Allah abase him in his every book!\nHear then, O my mother, what this abominable one did, and all I\nshall tell thee will be soothfast and certain. See how the damned\nvillain brake every promise he made, certifying that he would\nsoon work all good with me; and do thou consider the fondness\nwhich he displayed to me and the deeds which he did by me; and\nall this only to win his wish, for his design was to destroy me;\nand Alhamdolillah--laud to the Lord--for my deliverance. Listen\nand learn, O my mother, how this Accursed entreated me.\" Then\nAlaeddin informed his mother of all that had befallen him\n(weeping the while for stress of gladness); how the Maghrabi had\nled him to a hill wherein was hidden the Hoard and how he had\nconjured and fumigated, adding,[FN#106] \"After which, O my\nmother, mighty fear get hold of me when the hill split and the\nearth gaped before me by his wizardry; and I trembled with terror\nat the rolling of thunder in mine ears and the murk which fell\nupon us when he fumigated and muttered spells. Seeing these\nhorrors I in mine affright designed to fly; but, when he\nunderstood mine intent he reviled me and smote me a buffet so\nsore that it caused me to swoon. However, inasmuch as the\nTreasury was to be opened only by means of me, O my mother, he\ncould not descend therein himself, it being in my name and not in\nhis; and, for that he is an ill-omened magician, he understood\nthat I was necessary to him and this was his need of me.\"--And\nShahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her\npermitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Thirty-third Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell me some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that Alaeddin acquainted his mother with all that had\nbefallen him from the Maghrabi, the Magician, and said, \"After he\nhad buffetted me, he judged it advisable to soothe me in order\nthat he might send me down into the Enchanted Treasury; and first\nhe drew from his finger a Ring which he placed upon mine. So I\ndescended and found four halls all full of gold and silver which\ncounted as naught, and the Accursed had charged me not to touch\naught thereof. Then I entered a mighty fine flower-garden\neverywhere bedecked with tall trees whose foliage and fruitage\nbewildered the wits, for all, O my mother, were of vari-coloured\nglass, and lastly I reached the Hall wherein hung this Lamp. So I\ntook it straightway and put it out[FN#107] and poured forth its\ncontents.\" And so saying Alaeddin drew the Lamp from his breast-\npocket and showed it to his mother, together with the gems and\njewels which he had brought from the garden; and there were two\nlarge bag-pockets full of precious stones, whereof not one was to\nbe found amongst the kings of the world. But the lad knew naught\nanent their worth deeming them glass or crystal; and presently he\nresumed, \"After this, O mother mine, I reached the Hoard-door\ncarrying the Lamp and shouted to the accursed Sorcerer, which\ncalled himself my uncle, to lend me a hand and hale me up, I\nbeing unable to mount of myself the last step for the over weight\nof my burthen. But he would not and said only, 'First hand me the\nLamp!' As, however, I had placed it at the bottom of my breast-\npocket and the other pouches bulged out beyond it, I was unable\nto get at it and said, 'O my uncle, I cannot reach thee the Lamp,\nbut I will give it to thee when outside the Treasury.' His only\nneed was the Lamp and he designed, O my mother, to snatch it from\nme and after that slay me, as indeed he did his best to do by\nheaping the earth over my head. Such then is what befel me from\nthis foul Sorcerer.\" Hereupon Alaeddin fell to abusing the\nMagician in hot wrath and with a burning heart and crying, \"Well-\naway! I take refuge from this damned wight, the ill-omened, the\nwrongdoer, the for-swearer, the lost to all humanity, the arch-\ntraitor, the hypocrite, the annihilator of ruth and mercy.\"--And\nShahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her\npermitted say.\n\n     When it was the Five Hundred and Thirty-fourth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that when Alaeddin's mother heard his words and what had\nbefallen him from the Maghrabi, the Magician, she said, \"Yea,\nverily, O my son, he is a miscreant, a hypocrite who murthereth\nthe folk by his magic; but 'twas the grace of Allah Almighty, O\nmy child, that saved thee from the tricks and the treachery of\nthis accursed Sorcerer whom I deemed to be truly thine\nuncle.\"[FN#108] Then, as the lad had not slept a wink for three\ndays and found himself nodding, he sought his natural rest, his\nmother doing on like wise; nor did he awake till about noon on\nthe second day. As soon as he shook off slumber he called for\nsomewhat of food being sore anhungered, but said his mother, \"O\nmy son, I have no victual for thee inasmuch as yesterday thou\natest all that was in the house. But wait patiently a while: I\nhave spun a trifle of yarn which I will carry to the market-\nstreet and sell it and buy with what it may be worth some victual\nfor thee.\" \"O my mother,\" said he, \"keep your yarn and sell it\nnot; but fetch me the Lamp I brought hither that I may go vend it\nand with its price purchase provaunt, for that I deem 'twill\nbring more money than the spinnings.\" So Alaeddin's mother arose\nand fetched the Lamp for her son; but, while so doing, she saw\nthat it was dirty exceedingly; so she said, \"O my son, here is\nthe Lamp, but 'tis very foul: after we shall have washed it and\npolished it 'twill sell better.\" Then, taking a handful of sand\nshe began to rub therewith, but she had only begun when appeared\nto her one of the J\u00e1nn whose favour was frightful and whose bulk\nwas horrible big, and he was gigantic as one of the\nJab\u00e1birah.[FN#109]  And forthright he cried to her, \"Say whatso\nthou wantest of me? Here am I, thy Slave and Slave to whoso\nholdeth the Lamp; and not I alone, but all the Slaves of the\nWonderful Lamp which thou hendest in hand.\" She quaked and terror\nwas sore upon her when she looked at that frightful form and her\ntongue being tied she could not return aught reply, never having\nbeen accustomed to espy similar semblances.--And Shahrazad was\nsurprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Thirty-fifth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that Alaeddin's mother could not of her terror return a\nreply to the M\u00e1rid; nay she fell to the ground oppressed by her\naffright.[FN#110] Now her son was standing afar off and he had\nalready seen the Jinn\u00ed of the Ring which he had rubbed within the\nTreasury; so when he heard the Slave speaking to his parent, he\nhastened forwards and snatching the Lamp from her hand, said, \"O\nSlave of the Lamp, I am unhungered and 'tis my desire that thou\nfetch me somewhat to eat and let it be something toothsome beyond\nour means.\" The Jinni disappeared for an eye-twinkle and returned\nwith a mighty fine tray and precious of price, for that 'twas all\nin virginal silver and upon it stood twelve golden platters of\nmeats manifold and dainties delicate, with bread snowier than\nsnow; also two silvern cups and as many black jacks[FN#111] full\nof wine clear-strained and long-stored. And after setting all\nthese before Alaeddin, he evanished from vision. Thereupon the\nlad went and sprinkled rose water upon his mother's face and\ncaused her snuff up perfumes pure and pungent and said to her\nwhen she revived, \"Rise, O mother mine, and let us eat of these\nmeats wherewith Almighty Allah hath eased our poverty.\" But when\nshe saw that mighty fine silvern tray she fell to marvelling at\nthe matter and Quoth she, \"O my son, who be this generous, this\nbeneficent one who hath abated our hunger-pains and our penury?\nWe are indeed under obligation to him and, meseemeth, 'tis the\nSultan who, hearing of our mean condition and our misery, hath\nsent us this food tray.\" Quoth he, \"O my mother, this be no time\nfor questioning: arouse thee and let us eat for we are both a-\nfamished.\" Accordingly, they sat down to the tray and fell to\nfeeding when Alaeddin's mother tasted meats whose like in all her\ntime she had never touched; so they devoured them with sharpened\nappetites and all the capacity engendered by stress of hunger;\nand, secondly, the food was such that marked the tables of the\nKings. But neither of them knew whether the tray was or was not\nvaluable, for never in their born days had they looked upon aught\nlike it. As soon as they had finished the meal (withal leaving\nvictual enough for supper and eke for the next day), they arose\nand washed their hands and sat at chat, when the mother turned to\nher son and said, \"Tell me, O my child, what befel thee from the\nSlave, the Jinn\u00ed, now that Alhamdolillah--laud to the Lord!--we\nhave eaten our full of the good things wherewith He hath favoured\nus and thou hast no pretext for saying to me, 'I am anhungered.'\n\" So Alaeddin related to her all that took place between him and\nthe Slave what while she had sunk upon the ground aswoon for sore\nterror; and at this she, being seized with mighty great surprise,\nsaid, \" 'tis true; for the Jinns do present themselves before the\nSons of Adam[FN#112] but I, O my son, never saw them in all my\nlife and meseemeth that this be the same who saved thee when thou\nwest within the Enchanted Hoard.\" \"This is not he, O my mother:\nthis who appeared before thee is the Slave of the Lamp!\" \"Who may\nthis be, O my son?\" \"This be a Slave of sort and shape other than\nhe; that was the Familiar of the Ring and this his fellow thou\nsawest was the Slave of the Lamp thou hentest in hand.\"--And\nShahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her\npermitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Thirty-sixth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that Alaeddin said, \"Verily, O my mother, the Jinni who\nappeared to thee was the Slave of the Lamp.\" And when his parent\nheard these words she cried, \"There! there![FN#113] so this\nAccursed, who showed himself to me and went nigh unto killing me\nwith affright, is attached to the Lamp.\" \"Yes,\" he replied, and\nshe rejoined, \"Now I conjure thee, O my son, by the milk\nwherewith I suckled thee, to throw away from thee this Lamp and\nthis Ring; because they can cause us only extreme terror and I\nespecially can never abear a second glance at them. Moreover all\nintercourse with them is unlawful, for that the Prophet (whom\nAllah save and assain!) warned us against them with threats.\" He\nreplied, \"Thy commands, O my mother, be upon my head[FN#114] and\nmine eyes; but, as regards this saying thou saidest, 'tis\nimpossible that I part or with Lamp or with Ring. Thou thyself\nhast seen what good the Slave wrought us whenas we were\nfamishing; and know, O my mother, that the Maghrabi, the liar,\nthe Magician, when sending me down into the Hoard, sought nor the\nsilver nor the gold wherewith the four halls were fulfilled, but\ncharged me to bring him only the Lamp (naught else), because in\nvery deed he had learned its priceless value; and, had he not\nbeen certified of it, he had never endured such toil and trouble\nnor had he travelled from his own land to our land in search\nthereof; neither had he shut me up in the Treasury when he\ndespaired of the Lamp which I would not hand to him. Therefore it\nbesitteth us, O my mother, to keep this Lamp and take all care\nthereof nor disclose its mysteries to any; for this is now our\nmeans of livelihood and this it is shall enrich us. And likewise\nas regards the Ring, I will never withdraw it from my finger\ninasmuch as but for this thou hadst nevermore seen me on life nay\nI should have died within the Hoard underground. How then can I\npossibly remove it from my finger? And who wotteth that which may\nbetide me by the lapse of Time, what trippings or calamities or\ninjurious mishaps wherefrom this Ring may deliver me? However,\nfor regard to thy feelings I will stow away the Lamp nor ever\nsuffer it to be seen of thee hereafter.\" Now when his mother\nheard his words and pondered them she knew they were true and\nsaid to him, \"Do, O my son, whatso thou willest for my part I\nwish never to see them nor ever sight that frightful spectacle I\nerst saw.\"--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and\nceased to say her permitted say.\n\n     When it was the Five Hundred and Thirty-seventh Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be not sleepy, do tell us\nsome of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied, With\nlove and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the Age, that\nAlaeddin and his mother continued eating of the meats brought\nthem by the Jinni for two full told days till they were finished;\nbut when he learned that nothing of food remained for them, he\narose and took a platter of the platters which the Slave had\nbrought upon the tray. Now they were all of the finest gold but\nthe lad knew naught thereof; so he bore it to the Bazar and\nthere, seeing a man which was a Jew, a viler than the\nSatans,[FN#115] offered it to him for sale. When the Jew espied\nit he took the lad aside that none might see him, and he looked\nat the platter and considered it till he was certified that it\nwas of gold refined. But he knew not whether Alaeddin was\nacquainted with its value or he was in such matters a raw\nladdie,[FN#116]  so he asked him, \"For how much, O my lord, this\nplatter?\" and the other answered, \"Thou wottest what be its\nworth.\" The Jew debated with himself as to how much he should\noffer, because Alaeddin had returned him a craftsman-like reply;\nand he thought of the smallest valuation; at the same time he\nfeared lest the lad, haply knowing its worth, should expect a\nconsiderable sum. So he said in his mind, \"Belike the fellow is\nan ignoramous in such matters nor is ware of the price of the\nplatter.\" Whereupon he pulled out of his pocket a diner, and\nAlaeddin eyed the gold piece lying in his palm and hastily taking\nit went his way; whereby the Jew was certified of his customer's\ninnocence of all such knowledge, and repented with entire\nrepentance that he had given him a golden diner in lieu of a\ncopper carat,[FN#117] a bright-polished groat. However, Alaeddin\nmade no delay but went at once to the baker's where he bought him\nbread and changed the ducat; then, going to his mother, he gave\nher the scones and the remaining small coin and said, \"O my\nmother, hie thee and buy thee all we require.\" So she arose and\nwalked to the Bazar and laid in the necessary stock; after which\nthey ate and were cheered. And whenever the price of the platter\nwas expended, Alaeddin would take another and carry it to the\naccursed Jew who bought each and every at a pitiful price; and\neven this he would have minished but, seeing how he had paid a\ndiner for the first, he feared to offer a lesser sum, lest the\nlad go and sell to some rival in trade and thus lose his usurious\ngains. Now when all the golden platters were sold, there remained\nonly the silver tray whereupon they stood; and, for that it was\nlarge and weighty, Alaeddin brought the Jew to his house and\nproduced the article, when the buyer, seeing its size gave him\nten dinars and these being accepted went his ways. Alaeddin and\nhis mother lived upon the sequins until they were spent; then he\nbrought out the Lamp and rubbed it and straightway appeared the\nSlave who had shown himself aforetime.--And Shahrazad was\nsurprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n     When it was the Five Hundred and Thirty-eighth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that the Jinni, the Slave of the Lamp, on appearing to\nAlaeddin said, \"Ask, O my lord, whatso thou wantest for I am thy\nSlave and the thrall of whoso hath the Lamp;\" and said the lad,\n\"I desire that thou bring me a tray of food like unto that thou\nbroughtest me erewhiles, for indeed I am famisht.\" Accordingly,\nin the glance of an eye the Slave produced a similar tray\nsupporting twelve platters of the most sumptuous, furnished with\nrequisite cates; and thereon stood clean bread and sundry glass\nbottles[FN#118] of strained wine. Now Alaeddin's mother had gone\nout when she knew he was about to rub the Lamp that she might not\nagain look upon the Jinni; but after a while she returned and,\nwhen she sighted the tray covered with silvern[FN#119] platters\nand smelt the savour of the rich meats diffused over the house,\nshe marvelled and rejoiced. Thereupon Quoth he, \"Look, O my\nmother! Thou badest me throw away the Lamp, see now its virtues;\"\nand Quoth she, \"O my son, Allah increase his[FN#120] weal, but I\nwould not look upon him.\" Then the lad sat down with his parent\nto the tray and they ate and drank until they were satisfied;\nafter which they removed what remained for use on the morrow. As\nsoon as the meats had been consumed, Alaeddin arose and stowed\naway under his clothes a platter of the platters and went forth\nto find the Jew, purposing to sell it to him; but by fiat of Fate\nhe passed by the shop of an ancient jeweller, an honest man and a\npious who feared Allah. When the Shaykh saw the lad, he asked him\nsaying, \"O my son, what dost thou want? for that times manifold\nhave I seen thee passing hereby and having dealings with a Jewish\nman; and I have espied thee handing over to him sundry articles;\nnow also I fancy thou hast somewhat for sale and thou seekest him\nas a buyer thereof. But thou wottest not, O my child, that the\nJews ever hold lawful to them the good of Moslems,[FN#121] the\nConfessors of Allah Almighty's unity, and, always defraud them;\nespecially this accursed Jew with whom thou hast relations and\ninto whose hands thou hast fallen. If then, O my son, thou have\naught thou wouldest sell show the same to me and never fear, for\nI will give thee its full price by the truth of Almighty Allah.\"\nThereupon Alaeddin brought out the platter which when the ancient\ngoldsmith saw, he took and weighed it in his scales and asked the\nlad saying, \"Was it the fellow of this thou soldest to the Jew?\"\n\"Yes, its fellow and its brother,\" he answered, and Quoth the old\nman, \"What price did he pay thee?\" Quoth the lad, \"One diner.\"--\nAnd Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say\nher permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Thirty-ninth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that the ancient goldsmith, hearing from Alaeddin how the\nJew used to give only one diner as the price of the platter,\ncried, \"Ah! I take refuge from this Accursed who cozeneth the\nservants of Allah Almighty!\" Then, looking at the lad, he\nexclaimed, \"O my son, verily yon tricksy Jew hath cheated thee\nand laughed at thee, this platter being pure silver and virginal.\nI have weighed it and found it worth seventy diners; and, if thou\nplease to take its value, take it.\" Thereupon the Shaykh counted\nout to him seventy gold pieces, which he accepted and presently\nthanked him for his kindness in exposing the Jew's rascality. And\nafter this, whenever the price of a platter was expended, he\nwould bring another, and on such wise he and his mother were soon\nin better circumstances; yet they ceased not to live after their\nolden fashion as middle class folk[FN#122] without spending on\ndiet overmuch or squandering money. But Alaeddin had now thrown\noff the ungraciousness of his boyhood; he shunned the society of\nscapegraces and he began to frequent good men and true, repairing\ndaily to the market-street of the merchants and there companying\nwith the great and the small of them, asking about matters of\nmerchandise and learning the price of investments and so forth;\nhe likewise frequented the Bazars of the Goldsmiths and the\nJewellers[FN#123] where he would sit and divert himself by\ninspecting their precious stones and by noting how jewels were\nsold and bought therein. Accordingly, he presently became ware\nthat the tree-fruits, wherewith he had filled his pockets what\ntime he entered the Enchanted Treasury, were neither glass nor\ncrystal but gems rich and rare; and he understood that he had\nacquired immense wealth such as the Kings never can possess. He\nthen considered all the precious stones which were in the\nJewellers' Quarter, but found that their biggest was not worth\nhis smallest. On this wise he ceased not every day repairing to\nthe Bazar and making himself familiar with the folk and winning\ntheir loving will;[FN#124] and enquiring anent selling and\nbuying, giving and taking, the dear and the cheap, until one day\nof the days when, after rising at dawn and donning his dress he\nwent forth, as was his wont, to the Jewellers' Bazar; and, as he\npassed along it he heard the crier crying as follows: \"By command\nof our magnificent master, the King of the Time and the Lord of\nthe Age and the Tide, let all the folk lock up their shops and\nstores and retire within their houses, for that the Lady Badr al-\nBudur,[FN#125] daughter of the Sultan, designeth to visit the\nHamm\u00e1m; and whoso gainsayeth the order shall be punished with\ndeath-penalty and be his blood upon his own neck!\" But when\nAlaeddin heard the proclamation, he longed to look upon the\nKing's daughter and said in his mind, \"Indeed all the lieges talk\nof her beauty and loveliness and the end of my desires is to see\nher.\"--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased\nto say her permitted say.\n\n        When it was the Five Hundred and Fortieth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that Alaeddin fell to contriving some means whereby he might\nlook upon the Princess Badr al-Budur and at last judged best to\ntake his station behind the Hammam door whence he might see her\nface as she entered.[FN#126] Accordingly, without stay or delay\nhe repaired to the Baths before she was expected and stood a-rear\nof the entrance, a place whereat none of the folk happened to be\nlooking. Now when the Sultan's daughter had gone the rounds of\nthe city and its main streets and had solaced herself by sight-\nseeing, she finally reached the Hammam and whilst entering she\nraised her veil, when her face rose before sight as it were a\npearl of price or a sheeny sun, and she was as one of whom the\ndescriber sang,\n\n\"Magic Kohl enchanteth the glances so bright of her: * We pluck roses in posies from cheeks rosy bright of her:\nOf night's gloomiest hue is the gloom of the hair of her * And her bright brow uplighteth the murks of the night of her.\"[FN#127]\n\n(Quoth the reciter) when the Princess raised from her face the\nveil and Alaeddin saw her favour he said, \"In very truth her\nfashion magnifieth her Almighty Fashioner and glory be to Him who\ncreated her and adorned her with this beauty and loveliness.\" His\nstrength was struck down from the moment he saw her and his\nthoughts were distraught; his gaze was dazed, the love of her gat\nhold of the whole of his heart; and, when he returned home to his\nmother, he was as one in ecstasy. His parent addressed him, but\nhe neither replied nor denied; and, when she set before him the\nmorning meal he continued in like case; so Quoth she, \"O my son,\nwhat is't may have befallen thee? Say me, doth aught ail thee?\nLet me know what ill hath betided thee for, unlike thy custom,\nthou speakest not when I bespeak thee.\" Thereupon Alaeddin (who\nused to think that all women resembled his mother[FN#128] and\nwho, albeit he had heard of the charms of Badr al-Budur, daughter\nof the Sultan, yet knew not what \"beauty\" and \"loveliness\" might\nsignify) turned to his parent and exclaimed, \"Let me be!\"\nHowever, she persisted in praying him to come forwards and eat,\nso he did her bidding but hardly touched food; after which he lay\nat full length on his bed all the night through in cogitation\ndeep until morning morrowed. The same was his condition during\nthe next day, when his mother was perplexed for the case of her\nson and unable to learn what had happened to him. So, thinking\nthat belike he might be ailing she drew near him and asked him\nsaying, \"O my son, an thou sense aught of pain or such like, let\nme know that I may fare forth and fetch thee the physician; and\nto-day there be in this our city a leech from the Land of the\nArabs whom the Sultan hath sent to summon and the bruit abroad\nreporteth him to be skillful exceedingly. So, an be thou ill let\nme go and bring him to thee.\"--And Shahrazad was surprised by the\ndawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Forty-first Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\nWith love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the Age,\nthat Alaeddin, hearing his parent's offer to summon the\nmediciner, said, \"O my mother, I am well in body and on no wise\nill. But I ever thought that all women resembled thee until\nyesterday, when I beheld the Lady Badr al-Budur daughter of the\nSultan, as she was faring for the Baths.\" Then he related to her\nall and everything that had happened to him adding, \"Haply thou\nalso hast heard the crier a-crying, 'Let no man open shop or\nstand in street that the Lady Badr al-Budur may repair to the\nHammam without eye seeing her.' But I have looked upon her even\nas she is, for she raised her veil at the door and, when I viewed\nher favour and beheld that noble work of the Creator, a sore fit\nof ecstasy, O my mother, fell upon me for love of her and firm\nresolve to win her hath opened its way into every limb of me, nor\nis repose possible for me except I win her. Wherefor I purpose\nasking her to wife from the Sultan her sire in lawful wedlock.\"\nWhen Alaeddin's mother heard her son's words, she belittled his\nwits and cried, \"O my child, the name of Allah upon thee!\nmeseemeth thou hast lost thy senses. But be thou rightly guided,\nO my son, nor be thou as the men Jinn-maddened!\" He replied,\n\"Nay, O mother mine, I am not out of my mind nor am I of the\nmaniacs; nor shall this thy saying alter one jot of what is in my\nthoughts, for rest is impossible to me until I shall have won the\ndearling of my heart's core, the beautiful Lady Badr al-Budur.\nAnd now I am resolved to ask her of her sire the Sultan.\" She\nrejoined, \"O my son, by my life upon thee speak not such speech,\nlest any overhear thee and say thou be insane: so cast away from\nthee such nonsense! Who shall undertake a matter like this or\nmake such request to the King? Indeed, I know not how, supposing\nthis thy speech to be soothfast, thou shalt manage to crave such\ngrace of the Sultan or through whom thou desirest to propose it.\"\nHe retorted, \"Through whom shall I ask it, O my mother, when thou\nart present? And who is there fonder and more faithful to me than\nthyself? So my design is that thou thy self shalt proffer this my\npetition.\" Quoth she, \"O my son, Allah remove me far therefrom!\nWhat! have I lost my wits like thyself? Cast the thought away and\na long way from thy heart. Remember whose son thou art, O my\nchild, the orphan boy of a tailor, the poorest and meanest of the\ntailors toiling in this city; and I, thy mother, am also come of\npauper folk and indigent. How then durst thou ask to wife the\ndaughter of the Sultan, whose sire would not deign marry her with\nthe sons of the Kings and the Sovrans, except they were his peers\nin honour and grandeur and majesty; and, were they but one degree\nlower, he would refuse his daughter to them.\"--And Shahrazad was\nsurprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Forty-second Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that Alaeddin took patience until his parent had said her\nsay, when Quoth he, \"O my mother, everything thou hast called to\nmind is known to me; moreover 'tis thoroughly well known to me\nthat I am the child of pauper parents; withal do not these words\nof thee divert me from my design at all, at all. Nor the less do I\nhope of thee, an I be thy son and thou truly love me, that thou\ngrant me this favour, otherwise thou wilt destroy me; and present\nDeath hovereth over my head except I win my will of my heart's\ndearling; and I, O my mother, am in every case thy child.\"\nHearing these words, his parent wept of her sorrow for him and\nsaid, \"O my child! Yes, in very deed I am thy mother, nor have I\nany son or life's blood of my liver except thyself, and the end\nof my wishes is to give thee a wife and rejoice in thee. But\nsuppose that I would seek a bride of our likes and equals, her\npeople will at once ask an thou have any land or garden,\nmerchandise or handicraft, wherewith thou canst support her; and\nwhat is the reply I can return? Then, if I cannot possibly answer\nthe poor like ourselves, how shall I be bold enough, O my son, to\nask for the daughter of the Sultan of China-land who hath no peer\nor behind or before him? Therefore do thou weigh this matter in\nthy mind. Also who shall ask her to wife for the son of a snip?\nWell indeed I wot that my saying aught of this kind will but\nincrease our misfortunes; for that it may be the cause of our\nincurring mortal danger from the Sultan; peradventure even death\nfor thee and me. And, as concerneth myself, how shall I venture\nupon such rash deed and perilous, O my son? and in what way shall\nI ask the Sultan for his daughter to be thy wife; and, indeed,\nhow ever shall I even get access to him? And should I succeed\ntherein, what is to be my answer an they ask me touching thy\nmeans? Haply the King will hold me to be a madwoman. And, lastly,\nsuppose that I obtain audience of the Sultan, what offering is\nthere I can submit to the King's majesty?\"[FN#129]--And Shahrazad\nwas surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted\nsay,\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Forty-third Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales;\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that Alaeddin's mother continued to her son, \" 'tis true, O\nmy child, that the Sultan is mild and merciful, never rejecting\nany who approach him to require justice or ruth or protection,\nnor any who pray him for a present; for he is liberal and\nlavisheth favour upon near and far. But he dealeth his boons to\nthose deserving them, to men who have done some derring-do in\nbattle under his eyes or have rendered as civilians great service\nto his estate. But thou! do thou tell me what feat thou hast\nperformed in his presence or before the public that thou meritest\nfrom him such grace? And, secondly, this boon thou ambitionest is\nnot for one of our condition, nor is it possible that the King\ngrant to thee the bourne of thine aspiration; for whoso goeth to\nthe Sultan and craveth of him a favour, him it besitteth to take\nin hand somewhat that suiteth the royal majesty, as indeed I\nwarned thee aforetime. How, then, shalt thou risk thyself to\nstand before the Sultan and ask his daughter in marriage, when\nthou hast with thee naught to offer him of that which beseemeth\nhis exalted station?\" Hereto Alaeddin replied, \"O my mother, thou\nspeakest to the point and hast reminded me aright and 'tis meet\nthat I revolve in mind the whole of thy remindings. But, O my\nmother, the love of Princess Badr al-Budur hath entered into the\ncore of my heart; nor can I rest without I win her. However, thou\nhast also recalled to me a matter which I forgot and 'tis this\nemboldeneth me to ask his daughter of the King. Albeit thou, O my\nmother, declarest that I have no gift which I can submit to the\nSultan, as is the wont of the world, yet in very sooth I have an\noffering and a present whose equal, O my mother, I hold none of\nthe Kings to possess; no, nor even aught like it.\"--And Shahrazad\nwas surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted\nsay.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Forty-fourth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that Alaeddin said to his mother, \"Because verily that which\nI deemed glass or crystal was nothing but precious stones and I\nhold that all the Kings of the World have never possessed any\nthing like one of the smallest thereof. For, by frequenting the\njeweller-folk, I have learned that they are the costliest gems\nand these are what I brought in my pockets from the Hoard,\nwhereupon, an thou please, compose thy mind. We have in our house\na bowl of China porcelain; so arise thou and fetch it, that I may\nfill it with these jewels, which thou shalt carry as a gift to\nthe King, and thou shalt stand in his presence and solicit him\nfor my requirement. I am certified that by such means the matter\nwill become easy to thee; and, if thou be unwilling, O my mother,\nto strive for the winning of my wish as regards the lady Badr al-\nBudur, know thou that surely I shall die. Nor do thou imagine\nthat this gift is of aught save the costliest of stones and be\nassured, O my mother, that in my many visits to the Jewellers'\nBazar I have observed the merchants selling for sums man's\njudgment may not determine jewels whose beauty is not worth one\nquarter carat of what we possess; seeing which I was certified\nthat ours are beyond all price. So arise, O my mother, as I bade\nthee and bring me the porcelain bowl aforesaid, that I may\narrange therein some of these gems and we will see what semblance\nthey show.\" So she brought him the China bowl saying in herself,\n\"I shall know what to do when I find out if the words of my child\nconcerning these jewels be soothfast or not;\" and she set it\nbefore her son who pulled the stones out of his pockets and\ndisposed them in the bowl and ceased not arranging therein gems\nof sorts till such time as he had filled it. And when it was\nbrimful she could not fix her eyes firmly upon it; on the\ncontrary, she winked and blinked for the dazzle of the stones and\ntheir radiance and excess of lightning like glance; and her wits\nwere bewildered thereat; only she was not certified of their\nvalue being really of the enormous extent she had been told.\nWithal she reflected that possibly her son might have spoken\naright when he declared that their like was not to be found with\nthe Kings. Then Alaeddin turned to her and said, \"Thou hast seen,\nO my mother, that this present intended for the Sultan is\nmagnificent, and I am certified that it will procure for thee\nhigh honour with him and that he will receive thee with all\nrespect. And now, O my mother, thou hast no excuse; so compose\nthy thoughts and arise; take thou this bowl and away with it to\nthe palace.\" His mother rejoined, \"O my son, 'tis true that the\npresent is high-priced exceedingly and the costliest of the\ncostly; also that according to thy word none owneth its like. But\nwho would have the boldness to go and ask the Sultan for his\ndaughter, the Lady Badr al-Budur? I indeed dare not say to him,\n'I want thy daughter!' when he shall ask me, 'What is thy want?'\nfor know thou, O my son, that my tongue will be tied. And,\ngranting that Allah assist me and I embolden myself to say to\nhim, 'My wish is to become a connection of thine through the\nmarriage of thy daughter, the Lady Badr al-Budur, to my son\nAlaeddin,' they will surely decide at once that I am demented and\nwill thrust me forth in disgrace and despised. I will not tell\nthee that I shall thereby fall into danger of death, for 'twill\nnot only be I but thou likewise. However, O my son, of my regard\nfor thine inclination, I needs must embolden myself and hie\nthither; yet, O my child, if the King receive me and honour me on\naccount of the gift and enquire of me what thou desirest,\"--And\nShahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her\npermitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Forty-fifth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that Alaeddin's mother said to her son, \"And in reply I ask\nof him that which thou desirest in the matter of thy marriage\nwith his daughter, how shall I answer him an he ask me, as is\nman's wont, What estates hast thou, and what income? And\nperchance, O my son, he will question me of this before\nquestioning me of thee.\" Alaeddin replied, \"'Tis not possible\nthat the Sultan should make such demand what time he considereth\nthe jewels and their magnificence; nor is it meet to think of\nsuch things as these which may never occur. Now do thou but arise\nand set before him this present of precious stones and ask of him\nhis daughter for me, and sit not yonder making much of the\ndifficulty in thy fancy. Ere this thou hast learned, O mother\nmine, that the Lamp which we possess hath become to us a stable\nincome and that whatso I want of it the same is supplied to me;\nand my hope is that by means thereof I shall learn how to answer\nthe Sultan should he ask me of that thou sayest.\"[FN#130] Then\nAlaeddin and his mother fell to talking over the subject all that\nnight long and when morning morrowed, the dame arose and\nheartened her heart, especially as her son had expounded to her\nsome little of the powers of the Lamp and the virtues thereof; to\nwit, that it would supply all they required of it. Alaeddin,\nhowever, seeing his parent take courage when he explained to her\nthe workings of the Lamp, feared lest she might tattle to the\nfolk thereof;[FN#131]  so he said to her, \"O my mother, beware\nhow thou talk to any of the properties of the Lamp and its\nprofit, as this is our one great good. Guard thy thoughts lest\nthou speak over much concerning it before others, whoso they be;\nhaply we shall lose it and lose the boon fortune we possess and\nthe benefits we expect, for that 'tis of him.\"[FN#132]  His\nmother replied, \"Fear not, therefor, O my son,\" and she arose and\ntook the bowl full of jewels, which she wrapped up in a fine\nkerchief, and went forth betimes that she might reach the Divan\nere it became crowded. When she passed into the Palace, the lev\u00e9e\nnot being fully attended, she saw the Wazirs and sundry of the\nLords of the land going into the presence-room and after a short\ntime, when the Divan was made complete by the Ministers and high\nOfficials and Chieftains and Emirs and Grandees, the Sultan\nappeared and the Wazirs made their obeisance and likewise did the\nNobles and the Notables. The King seated himself upon the throne\nof his kingship, and all present at the lev\u00e9e stood before him\nwith crossed arms awaiting his commandment to sit; and, when they\nreceived it, each took his place according to his degree; then\nthe claimants came before the Sultan who delivered sentence,\nafter his wonted way, until the Divan was ended, when the King\narose and withdrew into the palace[FN#133] and the others all\nwent their ways.--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day\nand ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Forty-sixth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that Alaeddin's mother, having come the earliest of all,\nfound means of entering without any addressing her or offering to\nlead her to the presence; and she ceased not standing there until\nthe Divan ended, when the Sultan arose and withdrew into the\npalace and the others all went about their business. And when she\nsaw the throne empty and the King passing into his Harem, she\nalso wended her ways and returned home. But as soon as her son\nespied her, bowl in hand, he thought that haply something\nuntoward had befallen her, but he would not ask of aught until\nsuch time as she had set down the bowl, when she acquainted him\nwith that which had occurred and ended by adding,\n\"Alhamdolillah,--laud to the Lord!--O my child, that I found\ncourage enough and secured for myself standing place in the lev\u00e9e\nthis day; and, albe I dreaded to bespeak the King yet\n(Inshallah!) on the morrow I will address him. Even to-day were\nmany who, like myself, could not get audience of the Sultan. But\nbe of good cheer, O my son, and to-morrow needs must I bespeak\nhim for thy sake; and what happened not may happen.\" When\nAlaeddin heard his parent's words, he joyed with excessive joy;\nand, although he expected the matter to be managed hour by hour,\nfor excess of his love and longing to the Lady Badr al-Budur, yet\nhe possessed his soul in patience. They slept well that night and\nbetimes next morning the mother of Alaeddin arose and went with\nher bowl to the King's court which she found closed. So she asked\nthe people and they told her that the Sultan did not hold a lev\u00e9e\nevery day but only thrice in the se'nnight; wherefor she\ndetermined to return home; and, after this, whenever she saw the\ncourt open she would stand before the King until the reception\nended and when it was shut she would go to make sure thereof; and\nthis was the case for the whole month. The Sultan was wont to\nremark her presence at every lev\u00e9e, but, on the last day when she\ntook her station, as was her wont, before the Council, she\nallowed it to close and lacked boldness to come forwards and\nspeak even a syllable. Now as the King having risen was making\nfor his Harem accompanied by the Grand Wazir, he turned to him\nand said, \"O Wazir, during the last six or seven lev\u00e9e days I see\nyonder old woman present herself at every reception and I also\nnote that she always carrieth a something under her mantilla. Say\nme, hast thou, O Wazir, any knowledge of her and her intention?\"\n\"O my lord the Sultan,\" said the other, \"verily women be weakly of\nwits, and haply this goodwife cometh hither to complain before\nthee[FN#134] against her goodman or some of her people.\" But this\nreply was far from satisfying the Sultan; nay, be bade the Wazir,\nin case she should come again, set her before him; and forthright\nthe Minister placed hand on head and exclaimed, \"To hear is to\nobey, O our lord the Sultan!\"--And Shahrazad was surprised by the\ndawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n     When it was the Five Hundred and Forty-seventh Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that the mother of Alaeddin, as she made a practice of\nrepairing to the Divan every day and passing into the room and\nstanding opposite the King, albeit she was sorrowful and sore\naweary, withal for her son's sake she endeavored to make easy all\nher difficulties. Now one day of the days, when she did according\nto her custom, the Sultan cast his eyes upon her as she stood\nbefore him, and said to his Grand Wazir, \"This be the very woman\nwhereof I spake to thee yesterday, so do thou straightway bring\nher before me, that I may see what be her suit and fulfil her\nneed.\" Accordingly, the Minister at once introduced her and when\nin the presence she saluted the King by kissing her finger tips\nand raising them to her brow;[FN#135] and, praying for the\nSultan's glory and continuance and the permanence of his\nprosperity, bussed ground before him. Thereupon, Quoth he \"O\nwoman,[FN#136] for sundry days I have seen thee attend the lev\u00e9e\nsans a word said; so tell me an thou have any requirement I may\ngrant.\" She kissed ground a second time and after blessing him,\nanswered, \"Yea, verily, as thy head liveth, O King of the Age, I\nhave a want; but first of all, do thou deign grant me a promise\nof safety that I may prefer my suit to the ears of our lord the\nSultan; for haply thy Highness[FN#137] may find it a singular.\"\nThe King, wishing to know her need, and being a man of unusual\nmildness and clemency, gave his word for her immunity and bade\nforthwith dismiss all about him, remaining without other but the\nGrand Wazir. Then he turned towards his suppliant and said,\n\"Inform me of thy suit: thou hast the safeguard of Allah Al-\nmighty.\" \"O King of the Age,\" replied she, \"I also require of\nthee pardon;\" and Quoth he, \"Allah pardon thee even as I do.\"\nThen, Quoth she, \"O our lord the Sultan, I have a son, Alaeddin\nhight; and he, one day of the days, having heard the crier\ncommending all men to shut shop and shun the streets, for that\nthe Lady Badr al-Budur, daughter of the Sultan, was going to the\nHammam, felt an uncontrollable longing to look upon her, and hid\nhimself in a stead whence he could sight her right well, and that\nplace was behind the door of the Baths. When she entered he\nbeheld her and considered her as he wished, and but too well;\nfor, since the time he looked upon her, O King of the Age, unto\nthis hour, life hath not been pleasant to him. And he hath\nrequired of me that I ask her to wife for him from thy Highness,\nnor could I drive this fancy from his mind because love of her\nhath mastered his vitals and to such degree that he said to me,\n'Know thou, O mother mine, that an I win not my wish surely I\nshall die.' Accordingly I hope that thy Highness will deign be\nmild and merciful and pardon this boldness on the part of me and\nmy child and refrain to punish us therefor.\" When the Sultan\nheard her tale he regarded her with kindness and, laughing aloud,\nasked her, \"What may be that thou carriest and what be in yonder\nkerchief?\" And she seeing the Sultan laugh in lieu of waxing\nwroth at her words, forthright opened the wrapper and set before\nhim the bowl of jewels, whereby the audience-hall was illumined\nas it were by lustres and candelabra;[FN#138] and he was dazed\nand amazed at the radiance of the rare gems, and he fell to\nmarvelling at their size and beauty and excellence.--And\nShahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her\npermitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Forty-eighth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, if thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that when the King saw the gems he was seized by surprise\nand cried, \"Never at all until this day saw I anything like these\njewels for size and beauty and excellence: nor deem I that there\nbe found in my treasury a single one like them.\" Then he turned O\nWazir? Tell me hast thou to his Minister and asked, \"What sayest\nthou, seen in thy time such mighty fine jewels as these?\" The\nother answered, \"Never saw I such, O our lord the Sultan, nor do\nI think that there be in the treasures of my lord the Sultan the\nfellow of the least thereof.\" The King resumed, \"Now indeed whoso\nhath presented to me such jewels meriteth to become bridegroom to\nmy daughter, Badr al-Budur; because, as far as I see, none is\nmore deserving of her than he.\" When the Wazir heard the Sultan's\nwords he was tongue-tied with concern and he grieved with sore\ngrief, for the King had promised to give the Princess in marriage\nto his son; so after a little while he said, \"O King of the Age,\nthy Highness deigned promise me that the Lady Badr al-Budur\nshould be spouse to my son; so 'tis but right that thine exalted\nHighness vouchsafe us a delay of three months, during which time,\nInshallah! my child may obtain and present an offering yet\ncostlier than this.\" Accordingly the King, albeit he knew that\nsuch a thing could not be done, or by the Wazir or by the\ngreatest of his Grandees, yet of his grace and kindness granted\nhim the required delay. Then he turned to the old woman,\nAlaeddin's mother, and said, \"Go to thy son and tell him I have\npledged my word that my daughter shall be in his name;[FN#139]\nonly 'tis needful that I make the requisite preparations of\nnuptial furniture for her use; and 'tis only meet that he take\npatience for the next three months.\" Receiving this reply,\nAlaeddin's mother thanked the Sultan and blessed him; then, going\nforth in hottest haste, as one flying for joy, she went home; and\nwhen her son saw her entering with a smiling face, he was\ngladdened at the sign of good news, especially because she had\nreturned without delay as on the Fast days, and had not brought\nback the bowl. Presently he asked her saying, \"Inshallah, thou\nbearest me, O my mother, glad tidings; and peradventure the\njewels and their value have wrought their work and belike thou\nhast been kindly received by the King and he hath shown thee\ngrace and hath given ear to thy request?\" So she told him the\nwhole tale, how the Sultan had entreated her well and had\nmarvelled at the extraordinary size of the gems and their\nsurpassing water as did also the Wazir, adding, \"And he promised\nthat his daughter should be thine. Only, O my child, the Wazir\nspake of a secret contract made with him by the Sultan before he\npledged himself to me and, after speaking privily, the King put\nme off to the end of three months: therefore I have become\nfearful lest the Wazir be evilly disposed to thee and perchance\nhe may attempt to change the Sultan's mind.\" And Shahrazad was\nsurprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Forty-ninth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that when Alaeddin heard his mother's words and how the\nSultan had promised him his daughter, deferring, however, the\nwedding until after the third month, his mind was gladdened and\nhe rejoiced exceedingly and said, \"Inasmuch as the King hath\ngiven his word after three months (well, it is a long time!), at\nall events my gladness is mighty great.\" Then he thanked his\nparent, showing her how her good work had exceeded her toil and\ntravail; and said to her, \"By Allah, O my mother, hitherto I was\nas 'twere in my grave and therefrom thou hast withdrawn me; and I\npraise Allah Almighty because I am at this moment certified that\nno man in the world is happier than I or more fortunate.\" Then he\ntook patience until two of the three months had gone by. Now one\nday of the days his mother fared forth about sundown to the Bazar\nthat she might buy somewhat of oil; and she found all the market\nshops fast shut and the whole city decorated, and the folk\nplacing waxen tapers and flowers at their casements; and she\nbeheld the soldiers and household troops and Agh\u00e1s[FN#140] riding\nin procession and flambeaux and lustres flaming and flaring, and\nshe wondered at the marvellous sight and the glamour of the\nscene. So she went in to an oilman's store which stood open still\nand bought her need of him and said, \"By thy life, O uncle, tell\nme what be the tidings in town this day, that people have made\nall these decorations and every house and market-street are\nadorned and the troops all stand on guard?\" The oilman asked her,\n\"O woman, I suppose thou art a stranger and not one of this\ncity?\" and she answered, \"Nay, I am thy townswoman.\" He rejoined,\n\"Thou a towns-woman, and yet wottest not that this very night the\nson of the Grand Wazir goeth in to the Lady Badr al-Budur,\ndaughter of the Sultan! He is now in the Hammam and all this\npower of soldiery is on guard and standing under arms to await\nhis coming forth, when they will bear him in bridal procession to\nthe palace where the Princess expecteth him.\" As the mother of\nAlaeddin heard these words, she grieved and was distraught in\nthought and perplexed how to inform her son of this sorrowful\nevent, well knowing that the poor youth was looking, hour by\nhour, to the end of the three months. But she returned\nstraightway home to him and when she had entered she said, \"O my\nson, I would give thee certain tidings, yet hard to me will be\nthe sorrow they shall occasion thee.\" He cried, \"Let me know what\nbe thy news;\" and she replied, \"Verily the Sultan hath broken his\npromise to thee in the matter of the Lady Badr al-Budur, and this\nvery night the Grand Wazir's son goeth in to her. And for some\ntime, O my son, I have suspected that the Minister would change\nthe King's mind, even as I told thee how he had spoken privily to\nhim before me.\" Alaeddin[FN#141] asked, \"How learnedst thou that\nthe Wazir's son is this night to pay his first visit to the\nPrincess?\" So she told him the whole tale, how when going to buy\noil she had found the city decorated and the eunuch-officials and\nLords of the land with the troops under arms awaiting the\nbridegroom from the Baths; and that the first visit was appointed\nfor that very night. Hearing this Alaeddin was seized with a\nfever of jealousy brought on by his grief: however, after a short\nwhile he remembered the Lamp and, recovering his spirits said,\n\"By thy life, O my mother, do thou believe that the Wazir's son\nwill not enjoy her as thou thinkest. But now leave we this\ndiscourse and arise thou and serve up supper[FN#142] and after\neating let me retire to my own chamber and all will be well and\nhappy.\" And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased\nto say her permitted say.\n\n        When it was the Five Hundred and Fiftieth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that Alaeddin after he had supped retired to his chamber\nand, locking the door, brought out the Lamp and rubbed it, whenas\nforthright appeared to him its Familiar who said, \"Ask whatso\nthou wantest, for I am thy Slave and Slave to him who holdeth the\nLamp in hand; I and all the Slaves of the Lamp.\" He replied,\n\"Hear me! I prayed the Sultan for his daughter to wife and he\nplighted her to me after three months; but he hath not kept his\nword; nay, he hath given her to the son of the Wazir and this\nvery night the bridegroom will go in to her. Therefore I command\nthee (an thou be a trusty Servitor to the Lamp) when thou shalt\nsee bride and bridegroom bedded together this night,[FN#143] at\nonce take them up and bear them hither abed; and this be what I\nwant of thee.\" The Marid replied, \"Hearing and obeying; and if\nthou have other service but this, do thou demand of me all thou\ndesirest.\" Alaeddin \"At the present time I require naught save\nthat I bade thee do.\" Here upon the Slave disappeared and\nAlaeddin returned to pass the rest of the evening with his\nmother. But at the hour when he knew that the Servitor would be\ncoming, he arose and retired to his chamber and after a little\nwhile, behold, the Marid came bringing to him the newly-wedded\ncouple upon their bridal-bed. Alaeddin rejoiced to see them with\nexceeding joy; then he cried to the Slave, \"Carry yonder gallows-\nbird hence and lay him at full length in the privy.\"[FN#144] His\nbidding was done straightway; but, before leaving him, the Slave\nblew upon the bridegroom a blast so cold that it shrivelled him\nand the plight of the Wazir's son became piteous. Then the\nServitor returning to Alaeddin said to him, \"An thou require\naught else, inform me thereof;\" and said the other, \"Return a-\nmorn that thou mayest restore them to their stead;\" whereto, \"I\nhear and obey,\" Quoth the Marid and evanished. Presently Alaeddin\narose, hardly believing that the affair had been such a success\nfor him; but whenas he looked upon the Lady Badr al-Budur lying\nunder his own roof, albeit he had long burned with her love yet\nhe preserved respect for her and said, \"O Princess of fair ones,\nthink not that I brought thee hither to minish thy honour.\nHeaven forfend! Nay 'twas only to prevent the wrong man enjoying\nthee, for that thy sire the Sultan promised thee to me. So do\nthou rest in peace.\"--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of\nday and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Fifty-first Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales.\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that when the Lady Badr al-Budur, daughter of the Sultan,\nsaw herself in that mean and darksome lodging, and heard\nAlaeddin's words, she was seized with fear and trembling and\nwaxed clean distraught; nor could she return aught of reply.\nPresently the youth arose and stripping off his outer dress\nplaced a scymitar between them and lay upon the bed beside the\nPrincess;[FN#145] and he did no villain deed, for it sufficed him\nto prevent the consummation of her nuptials with the Wazir's son.\nOn the other hand the Lady Badr al-Budur passed a night the\nevillest of all nights; nor in her born days had she seen a\nworse; and the same was the case with the Minister's son who lay\nin the chapel of ease and who dared not stir for the fear of the\nJinni which overwhelmed him. As soon as it was morning the Slave\nappeared before Alaeddin, without the Lamp being rubbed, and said\nto him, \"O my lord, an thou require aught, command me therefor,\nthat I may do it upon my head and mine eyes.\" Said the other,\n\"Go, take up and carry the bride and bridegroom to their own\napartment;\" so the Servitor did his bidding in an eye-glance and\nbore away the pair, and placed them in the palace as whilome they\nwere and without their seeing any one; but both died of affright\nwhen they found themselves being transported from stead to\nstead.[FN#146] And the Marid had barely time to set them down and\nwend his ways ere the Sultan came on a visit of congratulation to\nhis daughter; and, when the Wazir's son heard the doors thrown\nopen, he sprang straightway from his couch and donned his\ndress[FN#147] for he knew that none save the King could enter at\nthat hour. Yet it was exceedingly hard for him to leave his bed\nwherein he wished to warm himself a trifle after his cold night\nin the water closet which he had lately left.--And Shahrazad was\nsurprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Fifty-second Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that the Sultan went in to his daughter Badr al-Budur and\nkissing her between the eyes gave her good morning and asked her\nof her bridegroom and whether she was pleased and satisfied with\nhim. But she returned no reply whatever and looked at him with\nthe eye of anger and, although he repeated his words again and\nagain, she held her peace nor bespake him with a single syllable.\nSo the King quitted her and, going to the Queen, informed her of\nwhat had taken place between him and his daughter; and the\nmother, unwilling to leave the Sultan angered with their child,\nsaid to him, \"O King of the Age, this be the custom of most\nnewly-married couples at least during their first days of\nmarriage, for that they are bashful and somewhat coy. So deign\nthou excuse her and after a little while she will again become\nherself and speak with the folk as before, whereas now her shame,\nO King of the Age, keepeth her silent. However 'tis my wish to\nfare forth and see her.\" Thereupon the Queen arose and donned her\ndress; then, going to her daughter, wished her good morning and\nkissed her between the eyes. Yet would the Princess make no\nanswer at all, whereat Quoth the Queen to herself, \"Doubtless\nsome strange matter hath occurred to trouble her with such\ntrouble as this.\" So she asked her saying \"O my daughter, what\nhath caused this thy case? Let me know what hath betided thee\nthat, when I come and give thee good morning, thou hast not a\nword to say to me?\" Thereat the Lady Badr al-Budur raised her\nhead and said, \"Pardon me O my mother, 'twas my duty to meet thee\nwith all respect and worship, seeing that thou hast honoured me\nby this visit. However, I pray thee to hear the cause of this my\ncondition and see how the night I have just spent hath been to me\nthe evillest of the nights. Hardly had we lain down, O my mother,\nthan one whose form I wot not uplifted our bed and transported it\nto a darksome place, fulsome and mean.\" Then the Princess related\nto the Queen-mother all that had befallen her that night; how\nthey had taken away her bridegroom, leaving her lone and\nlonesome, and how after a while came another youth who lay beside\nher, in lieu of her bridegroom, after placing his scymitar\nbetween her and himself; \"and in the morning\" (she continued) \"he\nwho carried us off returned and bore us straight back to our own\nstead. But at once when he arrived hither he left us and suddenly\nmy sire the Sultan entered at the hour and moment of our coming\nand I had nor heart nor tongue to speak him withal, for the\nstress of the terror and trembling which came upon me. Haply such\nlack of duty may have proved sore to him, so I hope, O my mother,\nthat thou wilt acquaint him with the cause of this my condition\nand that he will pardon me for not answering him and blame me\nnot, but rather accept my excuses.\"--And Shahrazad was surprised\nby the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Fifty-third Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that when the Queen heard these words of Princess Badr al-\nBudur, she said to her, \"O my child, compose thy thoughts. An\nthou tell such tale before any, haply shall he say, 'Verily, the\nSultan's daughter hath lost her wits.' And thou hast done right\nwell in not choosing to recount thine adventure to thy father;\nand beware and again I say beware, O my daughter, lest thou\ninform him thereof.\" The Princess replied, \"O my mother, I have\nspoken to thee like one sound in senses nor have I lost my wits:\nthis be what befel me and, if thou believe it not because coming\nfrom me, ask my bridegroom.\" To which the Queen replied, \"Rise up\nstraightway, O my daughter, and banish from thy thoughts such\nfancies as these; and robe thyself and come forth to glance at\nthe bridal feasts and festivities they are making in the city for\nthe sake of thee and thy nuptials; and listen to the drumming and\nthe singing and look at the decorations all intended to honour\nthy marriage, O my daughter.\" So saying, the Queen at once\nsummoned the tirewomen who dressed and prepared the Lady Badr al-\nBudur; and presently she went in to the Sultan and assured him\nthat their daughter had suffered during all her wedding-night\nfrom swevens and nightmare and said to him, \"Be not severe with\nher for not answering thee.\" Then the Queen sent privily for the\nWazir's son and asked of the matter, saying, \"Tell me, are these\nwords of the Lady Badr al-Budur soothfast or not?\" But he, in his\nfear of losing his bride out of hand, answered, \"O my lady, I\nhave no knowledge of that whereof thou speakest.\" Accordingly the\nmother made sure that her daughter had seen visions and dreams.\nThe marriage-feasts lasted throughout that day with\nAlmahs[FN#148] and singers and the smiting of all manner\ninstruments of mirth and merriment, while the Queen and the Wazir\nand his son strave right strenuously to enhance the festivities\nthat the Princess might enjoy herself; and that day they left\nnothing of what exciteth to pleasure unrepresented in her\npresence, to the end that she might forget what was in her\nthoughts and derive increase of joyance. Yet did naught of this\ntake any effect upon her; nay, she sat in silence, sad of\nthought, sore perplexed at what had befallen her during the last\nnight. It is true that the Wazir's son had suffered even more\nbecause he had passed his sleeping hours lying in the water-\ncloset: he, however, had falsed the story and had cast out\nremembrance of the night in the first place for his fear of\nlosing his bride and with her the honour of a connection which\nbrought him such excess of consideration and for which men envied\nhim so much; and, secondly, on account of the wondrous loveliness\nof the Lady Badr al-Budur and her marvellous beauty. Alaeddin\nalso went forth that day and looked at the merry-makings which\nextended throughout the city as well as the palace and he fell a-\nlaughing, especially when he heard the folk prating of the high\nhonour which had accrued to the son of the Wazir and the\nprosperity of his fortunes in having become son-in-law to the\nSultan and the high consideration shown by the wedding f\u00eates. And\nhe said in his mind, \"Indeed ye wot not, O ye miserables, what\nbefel him last night that ye envy him!\" But after darkness fell\nand it was time for sleep, Alaeddin arose and, retiring to his\nchamber, rubbed the Lamp, whereupon the Slave incontinently\nappeared.--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and\nceased to say her permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Fifty-fourth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that when the Slave appeared in presence of Alaeddin, he was\nbidden to bring him the Sultan's daughter together with her\nbridegroom as on the past night ere the Wazir's son could abate\nher maidenhead. So the Marid without stay or delay evanished for\na little while until the appointed time, when he returned\ncarrying the bed whereon lay the Lady Badr al-Budur and the\nWazir's son; and he did with the bridegroom as he had done\nbefore, to wit, he took him up and lay him at full length in the\njakes and there left him dried up for excess of fear and\ntrembling. Then Alaeddin arose, and placing the scymitar between\nhimself and the Princess, lay down beside her; and when day broke\nthe Slave restored the pair to their own place, leaving Alaeddin\nfilled with delight at the state of the Minister's son. Now when\nthe Sultan woke up amorn he resolved to visit his daughter and\nsee if she would treat him as on the past day; so shaking off his\nsleep he sprang up and arrayed himself in his raiment and, going\nto the apartment of the Princess bade open the door. Thereat the\nson of the Wazir arose forthright and came down from his bed and\nbegan donning his dress whilst his ribs were wrung with cold; for\nwhen the King entered the Slave had but just brought him back.\nThe Sultan, raising the arras,[FN#149] drew near his daughter as\nshe lay abed and gave her good morning; then kissing her between\nthe eyes, he asked her of her case. But he saw her looking sour\nand sad and she answered him not at all, only glowering at him as\none in anger and her plight was pitiable. Hereat the Sultan waxed\nwroth with her for that she would not reply and he suspected that\nsomething evil had befallen her,[FN#150] whereupon he bared his\nblade and cried to her, brand in hand, saying, \"What be this hath\nbetided thee? Either acquaint me with what happened or this very\nmoment I will take thy life! Is such conduct the token of honour\nand respect I expect of thee, that I address thee and thou\nanswerest me not a word?\" When the Lady Badar al-Budur saw her\nsire in high dudgeon and the naked glaive in his grip, she was\nfreed from her fear of the past, so she raised her head and said\nto him, \"O my beloved father, be not wroth with me nor be hasty\nin thy hot passion for I am excusable in what thou shalt see of\nmy case. So do thou lend an ear to what occurred to me and well I\nwot that after hearing my account of what befel to me during\nthese two last nights, thou wilt pardon me and thy Highness will\nbe softened to pitying me even as I claim of thee affection for\nthy child.\" Then the Princess informed her father of all that had\nbetided her adding, \"O my sire, an thou believe me not, ask my\nbridegroom and he will recount to thy Highness the whole\nadventure, nor did I know either what they would do with him when\nthey bore him away from my side or where they would place him.\"--\nAnd Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day, and ceased to say\nher permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Fifty-fifth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that when the Sultan heard his daughter's words, he was\nsaddened and his eyes brimmed with tears, then he sheathed his\nsabre and kissed her saying, \"O my daughter wherefore[FN#151]\ndidst thou not tell me what happened on the past night that I\nmight have guarded thee from this torture and terror which\nvisited thee a second time? But now 'tis no matter. Rise and cast\nout all such care and to-night I will set a watch to ward thee\nnor shall any mishap again make thee miserable.\" Then the Sultan\nreturned to his palace and straightway bade summon the Grand\nWazir and asked him, as he stood before him in his service, \"O\nWazir how dost thou look upon this matter? Haply thy son hath\ninformed thee of what occurred to him and to my daughter.\" The\nMinister replied, \"O King of the Age, I have not seen my son or\nyesterday or to-day.\" Hereat the Sultan told him all that had\nafflicted the Princess, adding, \" 'tis my desire that thou at\nonce seek tidings of thy son concerning the facts of the case:\nperadventure of her fear my daughter may not be fully aware of\nwhat really befel her; withal I hold all her words to be\ntruthful.\" So the Grand Wazir arose and, going forth, bade summon\nhis son and asked him anent all his lord had told him whether it\nbe true or untrue. The youth replied, \"O my father the Wazir,\nHeaven forbid that the Lady Badr al-Budur speak falsely: indeed\nall she said was sooth and these two nights proved to us the\nevillest of our nights instead of being nights of pleasure and\nmarriage-joys. But what befel me was the greater evil because,\ninstead of sleeping abed with my bride, I lay in the wardrobe, a\nblack hole, frightful, noisome of stench, truly damnable; and my\nribs were bursten with cold.\" In fine the young man told his\nfather the whole tale, adding as he ended it, \"O dear father\nmine, I implore thee to speak with the Sultan that he may set me\nfree from this marriage. Yes, indeed 'tis a high honour for me to\nbe the Sultan's son-in-law and especially the love of the\nPrincess hath gotten hold of my vitals; but I have no strength\nleft to endure a single night like unto these two last.\"--And\nShahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her\npermitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Fifty-sixth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that the Wazir, hearing the words of his son, was saddened\nand sorrowful exceedingly, for it was his design to advance and\npromote his child by making him son-in-law to the Sultan. So he\nbecame thoughtful and perplexed about the affair and the device\nwhereby to manage it, and it was sore grievous for him to break\noff the marriage, it having been a rare enjoyment to him that he\nhad fallen upon such high good fortune. Accordingly he said,\n\"Take patience, O my son, until we see what may happen this\nnight, when we will set watchmen to ward you; nor do thou give up\nthe exalted distinction which hath fallen to none save to\nthyself.\" Then the Wazir left him and, returning to the sovran,\nreported that all told to him by the Lady Badr al-Budur was a\ntrue tale; whereupon Quoth the Sultan, \"Since the affair is on\nthis wise, we require no delay,\" and he at once ordered all the\nrejoicings to cease and the marriage to be broken off. This\ncaused the folk and the citizen to marvel at the matter,\nespecially when they saw the Grand Wazir and his son leaving the\npalace in pitiable plight for grief and stress of passion; and\nthe people fell to asking, \"What hath happened and what is the\ncause of the wedding being made null and void?\" Nor did any know\naught of the truth save Alaeddin the lover who claimed the\nPrincess's hand, and he laughed in his sleeve. But even after the\nmarriage was dissolved, the Sultan forgot nor even recalled to\nmind his promise made to Alaeddin's mother; and the same was the\ncase with the Grand Wazir, while neither had any inkling of\nwhence befel them that which had befallen. So Alaeddin patiently\nawaited the lapse of the three months after which the Sultan had\npledged himself to give him to wife his daughter; but, as soon as\never the term came, he sent his mother to the Sultan for the\npurpose of requiring him to keep his covenant. So she went to the\npalace and when the King appeared in the Divan and saw the old\nwoman standing before him, he remembered his promise to her\nconcerning the marriage after a term of three months, and he\nturned to the Minister and said \"O Wazir, this be the ancient\ndame who presented me with the jewels and to whom we pledged our\nword that when the three months had elapsed we would summon her\nto our presence before all others.\" So the Minister went forth\nand fetched her[FN#152] and when she went in to the Sultan's\npresence she saluted him and prayed for his glory and permanence\nof prosperity. Hereat the King asked her if she needed aught, and\nshe answered, \"O King of the Age, the three months' term thou\nassignedst to me is finished, and this is thy time to marry my\nson Alaeddin with thy daughter, the Lady Badr al-Budur.\" The\nSultan was distraught at this demand, especially when he saw the\nold woman's pauper condition, one of the meanest of her kind; and\nyet the offering she had brought to him was of the most\nmagnificent, far beyond his power to pay the price. Accordingly,\nhe turned to the Grand Wazir and said, \"What device is there with\nthee? In very sooth I did pass my word, yet meseemeth that they\nbe pauper folk and not persons of high condition.\"--And Shahrazad\nwas surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted\nsay.\n\n     When it was the Five Hundred and Fifty-seventh Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that the Grand Wazir who was dying of envy and who was\nespecially saddened by what had befallen his son, said to\nhimself, \"How shall one like this wed the King's daughter and my\nson lose this highmost honour?\" Accordingly, he answered his\nSovran speaking privily, \"O my lord, 'tis an easy[FN#153] matter\nto keep off a poor devil such as this, for he is not worthy that\nthy Highness give his daughter to a fellow whom none knoweth what\nhe may be.\" \"By what means,\" enquired the Sultan, \"shall we put\noff the man when I pledged my promise; and the word of the Kings\nis their bond?\" Replied the Wazir, \"O my lord, my rede is that\nthou demand of him forty platters made of pure sand-gold[FN#154]\nand full of gems (such as the woman brought thee aforetime), with\nforty white slave-girls to carry the platters and forty black\neunuch-slaves.\" The King rejoined, \"By Allah, O Wazir, thou hast\nspoken to the purpose, seeing that such thing is not possible and\nby this way we shall be freed.\" Then Quoth he to Alaeddin's\nmother, \"Do thou go and tell thy son that I am a man of my word\neven as I plighted it to him, but on condition that he have power\nto pay the dower of my daughter; and that which I require of him\nis a settlement consisting of two score platters of virgin gold,\nall brimming with gems the like of those thou broughtest to me,\nand as many white handmaids to carry them and two score black\neunuch-slaves to serve and escort the bearers. An thy son avail\nhereto I will marry him with my daughter.\" Thereupon she returned\nhome wagging her head and saying in her mind, \"Whence can my poor\nboy procure these platters and such jewels? And granted that he\nreturn to the Enchanted Treasury and pluck them from the trees\nwhich, however, I hold impossible; yet given that he bring them\nwhence shall he come by the girls and the blacks?\" Nor did she\nleave communing with herself till she reached her home, where she\nfound Alaeddin awaiting her, and she lost no time in saying \"O my\nson, did I not tell thee never to fancy that thy power would\nextend to the Lady Badr al-Budur, and that such a matter is not\npossible to folk like ourselves?\" \"Recount to me the news,\" Quoth\nhe; so Quoth she, \"O my child, verily the Sultan received me with\nall honour according to his custom and, meseemeth his intentions\ntowards us be friendly. But thine enemy is that accursed Wazir;\nfor, after I addressed the King in thy name as thou badest me\nsay, 'In very sooth the promised term is past,' adding ' 'Twere\nwell an thy Highness would deign issue commandment for the\nespousals of thy daughter the Lady Badr al-Budur to my son\nAlaeddin he turned to and addressed the Minister who answered\nprivily, after which the Sultan gave me his reply.\" Then she\nenumerated the King's demands and said, \"O my son, he indeed\nexpecteth of thee an instant reply but I fancy that we have no\nanswer for him.\" And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day\nand ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Fifty-eighth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that when Alaeddin heard these words he laughed and said, \"O\nmy mother, thou affirmeth that we have no answer and thou deemest\nthe case difficult exceedingly; but compose thy thoughts and\narise and bring me somewhat we may eat; and, after we have dined,\nan the Compassionate be willing, thou shalt see my reply. Also\nthe Sultan thinketh like thyself that he hath demanded a\nprodigious dower in order to divert me from his daughter, whereas\nthe fact is that he hath required of me a matter far less than I\nexpected. But do thou fare forth at once and purchase the\nprovision and leave me to procure thee a reply.\" So she went out\nto fetch her needful from the Bazar and Alaeddin retired to his\nchamber and taking the Lamp rubbed it, when forthright appeared\nto him its Slave and said, \"Ask, O my lord, whatso thou wantest.\"\nThe other replied, \"I have demanded of the Sultan his daughter to\nwife and he hath required of me forty bowls of purest gold each\nweighing ten pounds[FN#155] and all to be filled with gems such\nas we find in the Gardens of the Hoard; furthermore, that they be\nborne on the heads of as many white handmaids, each attended by\nher black eunuch-slave, also forty in full rate; so I desire that\nthou bring all these into my presence.\" \"Hearkening and obeying,\nO my lord,\" Quoth the Slave and, disappearing for the space of an\nhour or so, presently returned bringing the platters and jewels,\nhandmaids and eunuchs; then, setting them before him the Marid\ncried, \"This be what thou demandest of me: declare now an thou\nwant any matter or service other than this.\" Alaeddin rejoined,\n\"I have need of naught else; but, an I do, I will summon thee and\nlet thee know.\" The Slave now disappeared and, after a little\nwhile, Alaeddin's mother returned home and, on entering the\nhouse, saw the blacks and the handmaids.[FN#156] Hereat she\nwondered and exclaimed, \"All this proceedeth from the Lamp which\nAllah perpetuate to my son!\" But ere she doffed her mantilla\nAlaeddin said to her, \"O my mother, this be thy time before the\nSultan enter his Serraglio-palace;[FN#157] do thou carry to him\nwhat he required and wend thou with it at once, so may he know\nthat I avail to supply all he wanteth and yet more; also that he\nis beguiled by his Grand Wazir and the twain imagined vainly that\nthey would baffle me.\" Then he arose forthright and opened the\nhouse-door, when the handmaids and blackamoors paced forth in\npairs, each girl with her eunuch beside her, until they crowded\nthe quarter, Alaeddin's mother foregoing them. And when the folk\nof that ward sighted such mighty fine sight and marvellous\nspectacle, all stood at gaze and they considered the forms and\nfigures of the handmaids marvelling at their beauty and\nloveliness, for each and every wore robes inwrought with gold and\nstudded with jewels, no dress being worth less than a thousand\ndinars.[FN#158] They stared as intently at the bowls and albeit\nthese were covered with pieces of brocade, also orfrayed and\ndubbed with precious stones, yet the sheen outshot from them\ndulled the shine of sun.--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn\nof day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Fifty-ninth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that the folk and especially the people of the quarter stood\na marvelling at this singular scene. Then Alaeddin's mother\nwalked forwards and all the handmaids and eunuchs paced behind\nher in the best of ordinance and disposition, and the citizens\ngathered to gaze at the beauty of the damsels, glorifying God the\nMost Great, until the train reached the palace and entered it\naccompanied by the tailor's widow. Now when the Aghas and\nChamberlains and Army-officers beheld them, all were seized with\nsurprise, notably by seeing the handmaids who each and every\nwould ravish the reason of an anchorite. And albeit the royal\nChamberlains and Officials were men of family, the sons of\nGrandees and Emirs, yet they could not but especially wonder at\nthe costly dresses of the girls and the platters borne upon their\nheads; nor could they gaze at them open eyed by reason of the\nexceeding brilliance and radiance. Then the Nabobs went in and\nreported to the King who forthright bade admit them to the\npresence chamber, and Alaeddin's mother went in with them. When\nthey stood before the Sultan, all saluted him with every sign of\nrespect and worship and prayed for his glory and prosperity; then\nthey set down from their heads the bowls at his feet and, having\nremoved the brocade covers, rested with arms crossed behind them.\nThe Sultan wondered with exceeding wonder and was distraught by\nthe beauty of the handmaids and their loveliness which passed\npraise; and his wits were wildered when he considered the golden\nbowls brimful of gems which captured man's vision, and he was\nperplexed at the marvel until he became, like the dumb, unable to\nutter a syllable for the excess of his wonder. Also his sense was\nstupefied the more when he bethought him that within an hour or so\nall these treasures had been collected. Presently he commanded\nthe slave-girls to enter, with what loads they bore, the dower of\nthe Princess; and, when they had done his bidding Alaeddin's\nmother came forward and said to the Sultan, \"O my lord, this be\nnot much wherewith to honour the Lady Badr al-Budur, for that she\nmeriteth these things multiplied times manifold.\" Hereat the\nSovran turned to the Minister and asked, \"What sayest thou, O\nWazir? is not he who could produce such wealth in a time so\nbrief, is he not, I say, worthy to become the Sultan's son-in-law\nand take the King's daughter to wife?\" Then the Minister\n(although he marvelled at these riches even more than did the\nSultan), whose envy was killing him and growing greater hour by\nhour, seeing his liege lord satisfied with the moneys and the\ndower and yet being unable to fight against fact, made answer, \"\n'tis not worthy of her.\" Withal he fell to devising a device\nagainst the King that he might withhold the Lady Badr al-Budur\nfrom Alaeddin and accordingly he continued, \"O my liege, the\ntreasures of the universe all of them are not worth a nail-paring\nof thy daughter: indeed thy Highness hath prized these things\novermuch in comparison with her.\"--And Shahrazad was surprised by\nthe dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n        When it was the Five Hundred and Sixtieth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that when the King heard the words of his Grand Wazir, he\nknew that the speech was prompted by excess of envy; so turning\nto the mother of Alaeddin he said, \"O woman, go to thy son and\ntell him that I have accepted of him the dower and stand to my\nbargain, and that my daughter be his bride and he my son-in-law:\nfurthermore, bid him at once make act of presence that I may\nbecome familiar with him: he shall see naught from me save all\nhonour and consideration, and this night shall be the beginning\nof the marriage-festivities. Only, as I said to thee, let him\ncome to me and tarry not.\" Thereupon Alaeddin's mother returned\nhome with the speed of the stormwinds that she might hasten her\nutmost to congratulate her son; and she flew with joy at the\nthought that her boy was about to become[FN#159] son-in-law to\nthe Sultan. After her departure the King dismissed the Divan and,\nentering the palace of the Princess, bade them bring the bowls\nand the handmaids before him and before her, that she also might\ninspect them. But when the Lady Badr al-Budur considered the\njewels, she waxed distraught and cried, \"Meseemeth that in the\ntreasuries of the world there be not found one jewel rivalling\nthese jewels.\" Then she looked at the handmaids and marvelled at\ntheir beauty and loveliness, and knew that all this came from her\nnew bridegroom who had sent them in her service. So she was\ngladdened, albeit she had been grieved and saddened on account of\nher former husband, the Wazir's son, and she rejoiced with\nexceeding joy when she gazed upon the damsels and their charms;\nnor was her sire, the Sultan, less pleased and inspirited when he\nsaw his daughter relieved of all her mourning and melancholy and\nhis own vanished at the sight of her enjoyment. Then he asked\nher, \"O my daughter, do these things divert thee? Indeed I deem\nthat this suitor of thine be more suitable to thee than the son\nof the Wazir; and right soon (Inshallah!), O my daughter, shalt\nthou have fuller joy with him.\" Such was the case with the King;\nbut as regards Alaeddin, as soon as he saw his mother entering\nthe house with face laughing for stress of joy he rejoiced at the\nsign of glad tidings and cried, \"To Allah alone be lauds!\nPerfected is all I desired.\" Rejoined his mother, \"Be gladdened\nat my good news, O my son, and hearten thy heart and cool thine\neyes for the winning of thy wish. The Sultan hath accepted thine\noffering, I mean the moneys and the dower of the Lady Badr al-\nBudur, who is now thine affianced bride; and, this very night, O\nmy child, is your marriage and thy first visit to her; for the\nKing, that he might assure me of his word, hath proclaimed to the\nworld thou art his son-in-law and promised this night to be the\nnight of going in. But he also said to me, 'Let thy son come\nhither forthright that I may become familiar with him and receive\nhim with all honour and worship.' And now here am I, O my son, at\nthe end of my labours; happen whatso may happen the rest is upon\nthy shoulders.\" Thereupon Alaeddin arose and kissed his mother's\nhand and thanked her, enhancing her kindly service: then he left\nher and entering his chamber took the Lamp and rubbed it when, lo\nand behold! its Slave appeared and cried, \"Adsum! Ask whatso thou\nwantest.\" The young man replied, \"'Tis my desire that thou take\nme to a Hammam whose like is not in the world; then, fetch me a\ndress so costly and kingly that no royalty ever owned its\nfellow.\" The Marid replied, \"I hear and I obey,\" and carried him\nto Baths such as were never seen by the Kings of the Chosro\u0178s,\nfor the building was all of alabaster and carnelian and it\ncontained marvellous limnings which captured the sight; and the\ngreat hall[FN#160] was studded with precious stones. Not a soul\nwas therein but, when Alaeddin entered, one of the Jann in human\nshape washed him and bathed[FN#161] him to the best of his\ndesire.--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and\nceased to say her permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Sixty-first Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that Alaeddin, after having been washed and bathed, left the\nBaths and went into the great hall where he found that his old\ndress had been removed and replaced by a suit of the most\nprecious and princely. Then he was served with sherbets and\nambergris'd coffee[FN#162] and, after drinking, he arose and a\nparty of black slaves came forwards and clad him in the costliest\nof clothing, then perfumed and fumigated him. It is known that\nAlaeddin was the son of a tailor, a pauper, yet now would none\ndeem him to be such; nay, all would say, \"This be the greatest\nthat is of the progeny of the Kings: praise be to Him who\nchangeth and who is not changed!\" Presently came the Jinni and\nlifting him up bore him to his home and asked, \"O my lord, tell\nme hast thou aught of need?\" He answered, \"Yes, 'tis my desire\nthat thou bring me eight and forty Mamelukes, of whom two dozen\nshall forego me and the rest follow me, the whole number with\ntheir war-chargers and clothing and accoutrements; and all upon\nthem and their steeds must be of naught save of highest worth and\nthe costliest, such as may not be found in treasuries of the\nKings. Then fetch me a stallion fit for the riding of the\nChosro\u0178s and let his furniture, all thereof, be of gold crusted\nwith the finest gems:[FN#163] fetch me also eight and forty\nthousand dinars that each white slave may carry a thousand gold\npieces. 'Tis now my intent to fare to the Sultan, so delay thou\nnot, for that without all these requisites whereof I bespake thee\nI may not visit him. Moreover set before me a dozen slave-girls\nunique in beauty and dight with the most magnificent dresses,\nthat they wend with my mother to the royal palace; and let every\nhandmaid be robed in raiment that befitteth Queen's wearing.\" The\nSlave replied, \"To hear is to obey;\" and, disappearing for an\neye-twinkling, brought all he was bidden bring and led by hand a\nstallion whose rival was not amongst the Arabian Arabs,[FN#164]\nand its saddle cloth was of splendid brocade gold-inwrought.\nThereupon, without stay or delay, Alaeddin sent for his mother\nand gave her the garments she should wear and committed to her\ncharge the twelve slave-girls forming her suite to the palace.\nThen he sent one of the Mamelukes, whom the Jinni had brought, to\nsee if the Sultan had left the Serraglio or not. The white slave\nwent forth lighter than the lightning and returning in like\nhaste, said, \"O my lord, the Sultan awaiteth thee!\" Hereat\nAlaeddin arose and took horse, his Mamelukes riding a-van and a-\nrear of him, and they were such that all must cry, \"Laud to the\nLord who created them and clothed them with such beauty and\nloveliness.\" And they scattered gold amongst the crowd in front\nof their master who surpassed them all in comeliness and\nseemlihead nor needst thou ask concerning the sons of the Kings,-\n-praise be to the Bountiful, the Eternal! All this was of the\nvirtues of the Wonderful Lamp,[FN#165] which, whoso possessed,\nhim it gifted with fairest favour and finest figure, with wealth\nand with wisdom. The folk admired Alaeddin's liberality and\nexceeding generosity and all were distraught seeing his charms\nand elegance, his gravity and his good manners, they glorified\nthe Creator for this noble creation, they blessed him each and\nevery and, albeit they knew him for the son of Such-an-one, the\ntailor, yet no man envied him; nay, all owned that he deserved\nhis great good fortune.--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn\nof day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Sixty-second Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that the people were bewildered at Alaeddin and his\nliberality and generosity; and all blessed and prayed for him,\nhigh and low, as he rode palace-wards with the Mamelukes before\nand behind him, scattering gold upon the heads of the folk. Now\nthe Sultan had assembled the Lords of the land and, informing\nthem of the promise he had passed to Alaeddin, touching the\nmarriage of his daughter, had bidden them await his approach and\nthen go forth, one and all, to meet him and greet him. Hereupon\nthe Emirs and Wazirs, the Chamberlains, the Nabobs and the Army-\nofficers took their stations expecting him at the palace gate.\nAlaeddin would fain have dismounted at the outer entrance; but\none of the Nobles, whom the King had deputed for such duty,\napproached him and said, \"O my lord, 'tis the Royal Command that\nthou enter riding thy steed nor dismount except at the Divan-\ndoor.\"[FN#166] Then they all forewent him in a body and conducted\nhim to the appointed place where they crowded about him, these to\nhold his stirrup and those supporting him on either side whilst\nothers took him by the hands and helped him dismount; after which\nall the Emirs and Nobles preceded him into the Divan and led him\nclose up to the royal throne. Thereupon the Sultan came down\nforthright from his seat of estate and, forbidding him to buss\nthe carpet, embraced and kissed and seated him to the\nright[FN#167] of and beside himself. Alaeddin did whatso is\nsuitable, in the case of the Kings, of salutation and offering of\nblessings, and said, \"O our lord the Sultan, indeed the\ngenerosity of thy Highness demanded that thou deign vouchsafe to\nme the hand of thy daughter, the Lady Badr al-Budur, albeit I\nundeserve the greatness of such gift, I being but the humblest of\nthy slaves. I pray Allah grant thee prosperity and perpetuance;\nbut in very sooth, O King, my tongue is helpless to thank thee\nfor the fullness of the favour, passing all measure, which thou\nhast bestowed upon me. And I hope of thy Highness that thou wilt\ngive me a piece of ground fitted for a pavilion which shall besit\nthy daughter, the Lady Badr al-Budur.\" The Sultan was struck with\nadmiration when he saw Alaeddin in his princely suit and looked\nupon him and considered his beauty and loveliness, and noted the\nMamelukes standing to serve him in their comeliness and\nseemlihead; and still his marvel grew when the mother of Alaeddin\napproached him in costly raiment and sumptuous, clad as though\nshe were a Queen, and when he gazed upon the twelve handmaids\nstanding before her with crossed arms and with all worship and\nreverence doing her service. He also considered the eloquence of\nAlaeddin and his delicacy of speech and he was astounded thereat,\nhe and all his who were present at the lev\u00e9e. Thereupon fire was\nkindled in the Grand Wazir's heart for envy of Alaeddin until he\nwas like to die: and it was worse when the Sultan, after hearing\nthe youth's succession of prayers and seeing his high dignity of\ndemeanour, respectful withal, and his eloquence and elegance of\nlanguage, clasped him to his bosom and kissed him and cried,\n\"Alas, O my son, that I have not enjoyed thy converse before this\nday!\" And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased\nto say her permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Sixty-third Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that when the Sultan  beheld Alaeddin after such fashion, he\nrejoiced in him with mighty great joy and straightway bade the\nmusic[FN#168] and the bands strike up; then he arose and, taking\nthe youth led him into the palace where supper had been prepared\nand the Eunuchs at once laid the tables. So the Sovran sat down\nand seated his son-in-law on his right side and the Wazirs and\nhigh officials and Lords of the land took places each according\nto his degree, whereupon the bands played and a mighty fine\nmarriage-feast was dispread in the palace. The King now applied\nhimself to making friendship with Alaeddin and conversed with the\nyouth, who answered him with all courtesy and eloquence, as\nthough he had been bred in the palaces of the kings or he had\nlived with them his daily life. And the more the talk was\nprolonged between them, the more did the Sultan's pleasure and\ndelight increase, hearing his son-in-law's readiness of reply and\nhis sweet flow of language. But after they had eaten and drunken\nand the trays were removed, the King bade summon the Kazis and\nwitnesses who presently attended and knitted the knot and wrote\nout the contract-writ between Alaeddin and the Lady Badr al-\nBudur. And presently the bridegroom arose and would have fared\nforth, when his father in law withheld him and asked, \"Whither\naway, O my child? The bride-f\u00eates have begun and the marriage is\nmade and the tie is tied and the writ is written.\" He replied, \"O\nmy lord the King, 'tis my desire to edify, for the Lady Badr al-\nBudur, a pavilion befitting her station and high degree, nor can\nI visit her before so doing. But, Inshallah! the building shall\nbe finished within the shortest time, by the utmost endeavor of\nthy slave and by the kindly regard of thy Highness, and, although\nI do (yes indeed!) long to enjoy the society of the Lady Badr al-\nBudur, yet 'tis incumbent on me first to serve her and it\nbecometh me to set about the work forthright.\" \"Look around thee,\nO my son,\" replied the Sultan, \"for what ground thou deemest\nsuitable to thy design and do thou take all things into thy\nhands; but I deem the best for thee will be yonder broad plain\nfacing my palace; and, if it please thee build thy pavilion\nthereupon.\" \"And this,\" answered Alaeddin \"is the sum of my\nwishes that I may be nearhand to thy Highness.\" So saying he\nfarewelled the King and took horse, with his Mamelukes riding\nbefore him and behind him, and all the world blessed him and\ncried, \"By Allah he is deserving,\" until such time as he reached\nhis home. Then he alighted from his stallion and repairing to his\nchamber, rubbed the Lamp and behold, the Slave stood before him\nand said, \"Ask, O my lord whatso thou wantest;\" and Alaeddin\nrejoined, \"I require thee of a service grave and important which\nthou must do for me, and 'tis that thou build me with all urgency\na pavilion fronting the palace of the Sultan; and it must be a\nmarvel for it shall be provided with every requisite, such as\nroyal furniture and so forth.\" The Slave replied, \"To hear is to\nobey.\"--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased\nto say her permitted say.\n\n     When it was the Five Hundred and Sixty-fourth  Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that the Slave evanished and, before the next dawn brake,\nreturned to Alaeddin and said, \"O my lord, the pavilion is\nfinished to the fullest of thy fancy; and, if thou wouldst\ninspect it, arise forthright and fare with me.\" Accordingly, he\nrose up and the Slave carried him in the space of an eye-glance\nto the pavilion which, when Alaeddin looked upon it struck him\nwith surprise at such building, all its stones being of jasper\nand alabaster, Sum\u00e1k\u00ed[FN#169]  marble and mosaic-work. Then the\nSlave led him into the treasury which was full of all manner of\ngold and silver and costly gems, not to be counted or computed,\npriced or estimated. Thence to another place, where Alaeddin saw\nall requisites for the tables, plates and dishes, spoons and\nladles, basins and covers, cups and tasses, the whole of precious\nmetal: thence to the kitchen, where they found the kitcheners\nprovided with their needs and cooking batteries, likewise golden\nand silvern; thence to a warehouse piled up with chests full-\npacked of royal raiment, stuffs that captured the reason, such as\ngold-wrought brocades from India and China and kimcobs[FN#170] or\norfrayed cloths; thence to many apartments replete with\nappointments which beggar description; thence to the stables\ncontaining coursers whose like was not to be met with amongst the\nkings of the universe; and, lastly, they went to the harness-\nrooms all hung with housings, costly saddles and other furniture,\neverywhere studded with pearls and precious stones. And all this\nwas the work of one night. Alaeddin was wonder-struck and\nastounded by that magnificent display of wealth which not even\nthe mightiest monarch on earth could produce; and more so to see\nhis pavilion fully provided with eunuchs and handmaids whose\nbeauty would seduce a saint. Yet the prime marvel of the pavilion\nwas an upper kiosque or belvedere of four-and-twenty windows all\nmade of emeralds and rubies and other gems; [FN#171]  and one\nwindow remained unfinished at the requirement of Alaeddin that\nthe Sultan might prove him impotent to complete it. When the\nyouth had inspected the whole edifice, he was pleased and\ngladdened exceedingly: then, turning to the Slave he said, \"I\nrequire of thee still one thing which is yet wanting and whereof\nI had forgotten to tell thee.\" \"Ask, O my lord, thy want,\" Quoth\nthe Servitor; and Quoth the other, \"I demand of thee a carpet of\nthe primest brocade all gold-inwrought which, when unrolled and\noutstretched, shall extend hence to the Sultan's palace in order\nthat the Lady Badr al-Budur may, when coming hither, pace upon\nit[FN#172]  and not tread common earth.\" The Slave departed for a\nshort while and said on his return, \"O my lord verily that which\nthou demandest is here.\" Then he took him and showed him a carpet\nwhich wildered the wits, and it extended from palace to pavilion;\nand after this the Servitor bore off Alaeddin and set him down in\nhis own home. And Shahrazed was surprised by the dawn of day and\nceased to say her permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Sixty-fifth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine; an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\nWith love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the Age,\nthat the Slave, after displaying the Carpet to Alaeddin, bore him\nhome. Now day was brightening so the Sultan rose from his sleep\nand throwing open the casement looked out[FN#173] and espied,\nopposite his palace, a palatial pavilion ready edified. Thereupon\nhe fell to rubbing his eyes and opening them their widest and\nconsidering the scene, and he soon was certified that the new\nedifice was mighty fine and grand enough to be-wilder the wits.\nMoreover, with amazement as great he saw the carpet dispread\nbetween palace and pavilion: like their lord also the royal door-\nkeepers and the household, one and all, were dazed and amazed at\nthe spectacle. Meanwhile[FN#174]  the Wazir came in and, as he\nentered, espied the newly builded pavilion and the carpet,\nwhereat he also wondered; and, when he went in to the Sultan the\ntwain fell to talking on this marvellous matter with great\nsurprise at a sight which distracted the gazer and attracted the\nheart. They said finally, \"In very truth, of this pavilion we\ndeem that none of the royalties could build its fellow;\" and the\nKing, turning to the Minister, asked him, \"Hast thou seen now\nthat Alaeddin is worthy to be the husband of the Princess my\ndaughter? Hast thou looked upon and considered this right royal\nbuilding, this magnificence of opulence, which thought of man can\nnot contain?\" But the Wazir in his envy of Alaeddin replied, 'O\nKing of the Age, indeed this foundation and this building and\nthis opulence may not be save by means of magic nor can any man\nin the world, be he the richest in good or the greatest in\ngovernance, avail to found and finish in a single night such\nedifice as this.\" The Sultan rejoined, \"I am surprised to see in\nthee how thou dost continually harp on evil opinion of Alaeddin;\nbut I hold that 'tis caused by thine envy and jealousy. Thou wast\npresent when I gave him the ground at his own prayer for a place\nwhereon he might build a pavilion wherein to lodge my daughter,\nand I myself favoured him with a site for the same and that too\nbefore thy very face. But however that be, shall one who could\nsend me as dower for the Princess such store of such stones\nwhereof the kings never obtained even a few, shall he, I say, be\nunable to edify an edifice like this?\"--And Shahrazad was\nsurprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Sixty-sixth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that when the Wazir heard the Sultan's words, he knew that\nhis lord loved Alaeddin exceedingly; so his envy and malice\nincreased; only, as he could do nothing against the youth, he sat\nsilent and impotent to return a reply. But Alaeddin seeing that\nit was broad day, and the appointed time had come for his\nrepairing to the palace (where his wedding was being celebrated\nand the Emirs and Wazirs and Grandees were gathered together\nabout the Sultan to be present at the ceremony), arose and rubbed\nthe Lamp, and when its Slave appeared and said, O my lord, ask\nwhatso thou wantest, for I stand before thee and at thy service,\"\nsaid he, \"I mean forthright to seek the palace, this day being my\nwedding-festival and I want thee to supply me with ten thousand\ndinars.\" The Slave evanished for an eye-twinkling and returned\nbringing the moneys, when Alaeddin took horse with his Mamelukes\na-van and a-rear and passed on his way, scattering as he went\ngold pieces upon the lieges until all were fondly affected\ntowards him and his dignity was enhanced. But when he drew near\nthe palace, and the Emirs and Aghas and Army-officers who were\nstanding to await him noted his approach, they hastened\nstraightway to the King and gave him the tidings thereof;\nwhereupon the Sultan rose and met his son-in-law and after\nembracing and kissing him, led him still holding his hand into\nhis own apartment where he sat down and seated him by his right\nside. The city was all decorated and music rang through the\npalace and the singers sang until the King bade bring the noon-\nmeal, when the eunuchs and Mamelukes hastened to spread the\ntables and trays which are such as are served to the kings. Then\nthe Sultan and Alaeddin and the Lords of the land and the\nGrandees of the realm took their seats and ate and drank until\nthey were satisfied. And it was a mighty fine wedding in city and\npalace and the high nobles all rejoiced therein and the commons\nof the kingdom were equally gladdened, while the Governors of\nprovinces and Nabobs of districts flocked from far regions to\nwitness Alaeddin's marriage and its processions and festivities.\nThe Sultan also marvelled in his mind to look at Alaeddin's\nmother[FN#175] and recall to mind how she was wont to visit him\nin pauper plight, while her son could command all this opulence\nand magnificence. And when the spectators, who crowded the royal\npalace to enjoy the wedding-feasts, looked upon Alaeddin's\npavilion and the beauties of the building, they were seized with\nan immense surprise that so vast an edifice as this could be\nreared on high during a single night; and they blessed the youth\nand cried, \"Allah gladden him! By Allah, he deserveth all this!\nAllah bless his days!\"--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn\nof day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n     When it was the Five Hundred and Sixty-seventh Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that when dinner was done, Alaeddin rose and, farewelling\nthe Sultan, took horse with his Mamelukes and rode to his own\npavilion that he might prepare to receive therein his bride, the\nLady Badr al-Budur. And as he passed, all the folk shouted their\ngood wishes with one voice and their words were, \"Allah gladden\nthee! Allah increase thy glory. Allah grant thee length of life!\"\nwhile immense crowds of people gathered to swell the marriage\nprocession and they conducted him to his new home, he showering\ngold upon them during the whole time. When he reached his\npavilion, he dismounted and walked in and sat him down on the\ndivan, whilst his Mamelukes stood before him with arms afolded;\nalso after a short delay they brought him sherbets and, when\nthese were drunk, he ordered his white slaves and handmaids and\neunuchs and all who were in the pavilion to make ready for\nmeeting the Lady Badr al-Budur. Moreover, as soon as mid-\nafternoon came and the air had cooled and the great heat of the\nsun was abated, the Sultan bade his Army-officers and Emirs and\nWazirs go down into the Mayd\u00e1n plain[FN#176] whither he likewise\nrode. And Alaeddin also took horse with his Mamelukes, he\nmounting a stallion whose like was not among the steeds of the\nArab al-Arb\u00e1,[FN#177] and he showed his horsemanship in the\nhippodrome and so played with the Jar\u00edd[FN#178]  that none could\nwithstand him, while his bride sat gazing upon him from the\nlatticed balcony of her bower and, seeing in him such beauty and\ncavalarice, she fell headlong in love of him and was like to fly\nfor joy. And after they had ringed their horses on the Maydan and\neach had displayed whatso he could of horsemanship, Alaeddin\nproving himself the best man of all, they rode in a body to the\nSultan's palace and the youth also returned to his own pavilion.\nBut when it was evening, the Wazirs and Nobles took the\nbridegroom and, falling in, escorted him to the royal Hammam\n(known as the Sult\u00e1n\u00ed), when he was bathed and perfumed. As soon\nas he came out he donned a dress more magnificent than the former\nand took horse with the Emirs and the soldier-officers riding\nbefore him and forming a grand cort\u2044ge, wherein four of the\nWazirs bore naked swords round about him.[FN#179] All the\ncitizens and the strangers and the troops marched before him in\nordered throng carrying wax-candles and kettle drums and pipes\nand other instruments of mirth and merriment, until they\nconducted him to his pavilion. Here he alighted and walking in\ntook his seat and seated the Wazirs and Emirs who had escorted\nhim, and the Mamelukes brought sherbets and sugared drinks, which\nthey also passed to the people who had followed in his train. It\nwas a world of folk whose tale might not be told; withal Alaeddin\nbade his Mamelukes stand without the pavilion-doors and shower\ngold upon the crowd.--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of\nday and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Sixty-eighth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that when the Sultan returned from the Maydan-plain to his\npalace he ordered the household, men as well as women,\nstraightway to form a cavalcade for his daughter, with all\nceremony, and bear her to her bridegroom's pavilion. So the\nnobles and soldier-officers, who had followed and escorted the\nbridegroom, at once mounted, and the handmaids and eunuchs went\nforth with wax-candles and made a mighty fine procession for the\nLady Badr al-Budur and they paced on preceding her till they\nentered the pavilion of Alaeddin whose mother walked beside the\nbride. In front of the Princess also fared the wives of the\nWazirs and Emirs, Grandees and Notables, and in attendance on her\nwere the eight and forty slave-girls presented to her aforetime\nby her bridegroom, each hending in hand a huge cierge scented\nwith camphor and ambergris and set in a candlestick of gem-\nstudded gold. And reaching Alaeddin's pavilion they led her to\nher bower in the upper storey and changed her robes and enthroned\nher; then, as soon as the displaying was ended, they accompanied\nher to Alaeddin's apartments and presently he paid her the first\nvisit. Now his mother was with the bride and, when the bridegroom\ncame up and did off her veil, the ancient dame fell to\nconsidering the beauty of the Princess and her loveliness; and\nshe looked around at the pavilion which was all litten up by gold\nand gems besides the manifold candelabra of precious metals\nencrusted with emeralds and jacinths; so she said in her mind,\n\"Once upon a time I thought the Sultan's palace mighty fine, but\nthis pavilion is a thing apart; nor do I deem that any of the\ngreatest Kings of Chosro\u0178s attained in his day to aught like\nthereof; also am I certified that all the world could not build\nanything evening it.\" Nor less did the lady Badr al-Budur fall to\ngazing at the pavilion and marvelling for its magnificence. Then\nthe tables were spread and they all ate and drank and were\ngladdened; after which fourscore damsels came before them each\nholding in hand an instrument of mirth and merriment; then they\ndeftly moved their finger tips and touched the strings smiting\nthem into song, most musical, most melancholy, till they rent the\nhearts of the hearers. Hereat the Princess increased in marvel\nand Quoth she to herself, \"In all my life ne'er heard I songs\nlike these,''[FN#180] till she forsook food, the better to\nlisten. And at last Alaeddin poured out for her wine and passed\nit to her with his own hand; so great joy and jubilee went round\namongst them and it was a notable night, such an one as Iskander,\nLord of the Two Horns,[FN#181] had never spent in his time. When\nthey had finished eating and drinking and the tables were removed\nfrom before them, Alaeddin arose and went in to his\nbride.[FN#182] As soon as morning morrowed he left his bed and\nthe treasurer brought him a costly suit and a mighty fine, of the\nmost sumptuous robes worn by the kings. Then, after drinking\ncoffee devoured with ambergris, he ordered the horses be saddled\nand, mounting with his Mamelukes before and behind him, rode to\nthe Sultan's palace and on his entering its court the eunuchs\nwent in and reported his coming to their lord.--And Shahrazad was\nsurprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n       When it was the Five Hundred and Sixty-ninth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n'With love and good will.\"---It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that when the Sultan heard of Alaeddin's approach, he rose\nup forthright to receive him and embraced and kissed him as\nthough he were his own son: then, seating him on his right, he\nblessed and prayed for him, as did the Wazirs and Emirs, the\nLords of the land and the Grandees of the realm. Presently, the\nKing commanded bring the morning-meal which the attendants served\nup and all broke their fast together, and when they had eaten and\ndrunken their sufficiency and the tables were removed by the\neunuchs, Alaeddin turned to the Sultan and said, \"O my lord,\nwould thy Highness deign honour me this day at dinner, in the\nhouse of the Lady Badr al-Budur thy beloved daughter, and come\naccompanied by all thy Ministers and Grandees of the reign?\" The\nKing replied (and he was delighted with his son-in-law), \"Thou\nart surpassing in liberality, O my son!\" Then he gave orders to\nall invited and rode forth with them (Alaeddin also riding beside\nhim) till they reached the pavilion and as he entered it and\nconsidered its construction, its architecture and its stonery,\nall jasper and carnelian, his sight was dazed and his wits were\namazed at such grandeur and magnificence of opulence. Then\nturning to the Minister he thus addressed him, \"What sayest thou?\nTell me hast thou seen in all thy time aught like this amongst\nthe mightiest of earth's monarchs for the abundance of gold and\ngems we are now beholding?\" The Grand Wazir replied, \"O my lord\nthe King, this be a feat which cannot be accomplished by might of\nmonarch amongst Adam's sons; [FN#183] nor could the collected\npeoples of the universal world build a palace like unto this;\nnay, even builders could not be found to make aught resembling\nit, save (as I said to thy Highness) by force of sorcery.\" These\nwords certified the King that his Minister spake not except in\nenvy and jealousy of Alaeddin, and would stablish in the royal\nmind that all this splendour was not made of man but by means of\nmagic and with the aid of the Black Art. So Quoth he to him,\n\"Suffice thee so much, O Wazir: thou hast none other word to\nspeak and well I know what cause urgeth thee to say this say.\"\nThen Alaeddin preceded the Sultan till he conducted him to the\nupper Kiosque where he saw its skylights, windows and latticed\ncasements and jalousies wholly made of emeralds and rubies and\nother costly gems; whereat his mind was perplexed and his wits\nwere bewildered and his thoughts were distraught. Presently he\ntook to strolling round the Kiosque and solacing himself with\nthese sights which captured the vision, till he chanced to cast a\nglance at the window which Alaeddin by design had left unwrought\nand not finished like the rest; and, when he noted its lack of\ncompletion, he cried, \"Woe and well away for thee, O window,\nbecause of thine imperfection;\"[FN#184] and, turning to his\nMinister he asked, \"Knowest thou the reason of leaving incomplete\nthis window and its framework?\"--And Shahrazad was surprised by\nthe dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n       When it was the Five Hundred and Seventieth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that the Wazir said to the Sultan, \"O my lord, I conceive\nthat the want of finish in this window resulteth from thy\nHighness having pushed on Alaeddin's marriage and he lacked the\nleisure to complete it.\" Now at that time, Alaeddin had gone in\nto his bride, the Lady Badr al-Budur, to inform her of her\nfather's presence; and, when he returned, the King asked him, \"O\nmy son what is the reason why the window of this Kiosque was not\nmade perfect?\" \"O King of the Age, seeing the suddenness of my\nwedding,\" answered he, \"I failed to find artists for finishing\nit.\" Quoth the Sultan, \"I have a mind to complete it myself;\" and\nQuoth Alaeddin, \"Allah perpetuate thy glory, O thou the King; so\nshall thy memory endure in thy daughter's pavilion.\" The Sultan\nforthright bade summon jewellers and goldsmiths and ordered them\nbe supplied from the treasury with all their needs of gold and\ngems and noble ores; and, when they were gathered together he\ncommanded them to complete the work still wanting in the Kiosque-\nwindow. Meanwhile the Princess came forth to meet her sire the\nSultan who noticed, as she drew near, her smiling face; so he\nembraced her and kissed her, then led her to the pavilion and all\nentered in a body. Now this was the time of the noon day meal and\none table had been spread for the Sovran, his daughter and his\nson-in-law and a second for the Wazirs, the Lords of the land,\nthe Grandees of the realm, the Chief Officers of the host, the\nChamberlains and the Nabobs. The King took seat between the\nPrincess and her husband; and, when he put forth his hand to the\nfood and tasted it, he was struck with surprise by the flavour of\nthe dishes and their savoury and sumptuous cooking. Moreover,\nthere stood before him the fourscore damsels each and every\nsaying to the full moon, \"Rise that I may seat myself in thy\nstead!\"[FN#185] All held instruments of mirth and merriment and\nthey tuned the same and deftly moved their finger-tips and smote\nthe strings into song most musical, most melodious, which\nexpanded the mourner's heart. Hereby the Sultan was gladdened and\ntime was good to him and for high enjoyment he exclaimed, \"In\nvery sooth the thing is beyond the compass of King and Kaysar.\"\nThen they fell to eating and drinking; and the cup went round\nuntil they had drunken enough, when sweetmeats and fruits of\nsorts and other such edibles were served, the dessert being laid\nout in a different salon whither they removed and enjoyed of\nthese pleasures their sufficiency. Presently the Sultan arose\nthat he might see if the produce of his jewellers and goldsmiths\nfavoured that of the pavilion; so he went upstairs to them and\ninspected their work and how they had wrought; but he noted a\nmighty great difference and his men were far from being able to\nmake anything like the rest of Alaeddin's pavilion. And Shahrazad\nwas surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted\nsay.\n\n     When it was the Five Hundred and Seventy-first Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that after the King had inspected the work of his jewellers\nand goldsmiths, they informed him how all the gems stored in the\nLesser Treasury had been brought to them and used by them but\nthat the whole had proved insufficient; wherefor he bade open the\nGreater Treasury and gave the workmen all they wanted of him.\nMoreover he allowed them, an it sufficed not, to take the jewels\nwherewith Alaeddin had gifted him. They carried off the whole and\npushed on their labours but they found the gems fail them, albeit\nhad they not yet finished half the part wanting to the Kiosque-\nwindow. Herewith the King commended them to seize all the\nprecious stones owned by the Wazirs and Grandees of the realm;\nbut, although they did his bidding, the supply still fell short\nof their requirements. Next morning Alaeddin arose to look at the\njeweller's work and remarked that they had not finished a moiety\nof what was wanting to the Kiosque-window: so he at once ordered\nthem to undo all they had done and restore the jewels to their\nowners. Accordingly, they pulled out the precious stones and sent\nthe Sultan's to the Sultan and the Wazirs' to the Wazirs. Then\nthe jewellers went to the King and told him of what Alaeddin had\nbidden; so he asked them, \"What said he to you, and what was his\nreason and wherefore was he not content that the window be\nfinished and why did he undo the work ye wrought?\" They answered,\n\"O our lord, we know not at all, but he bade us deface whatso we\nhad done.\" Hereupon the Sultan at once called for his horse, and\nmounting, took the way pavilion-wards, when Alaeddin, after\ndismissing the goldsmiths and jewellers had retired into his\ncloset and had rubbed the Lamp. Hereat straightway its Servitor\nappeared to him and said, \"Ask whatso thou wantest: thy Slave is\nbetween thy hands;\" and said Alaeddin, \" 'tis my desire that thou\nfinish the window which was left unfinished.\" The Marid replied,\n\"On my head be it and also upon mine eyes!\" then he vanished and\nafter a little while returned saying, \"O my lord, verily that\nthou commandedst me do is completed.\" So Alaeddin went upstairs\nto the Kiosque and found the whole window in wholly finished\nstate; and, whilst he was still considering it, behold, a\ncastrato came in to him and said, \"O my lord, the Sultan hath\nridden forth to visit thee and is passing through the pavilion-\ngate.\" So Alaeddin at once went down and received his father-in-\nlaw. And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to\nsay her permitted say.\n\n     When it was the Five Hundred and Seventy-second Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"---It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that the Sultan, on sighting his son-in-law, cried to him,\n\"Wherefore, O my child, hast thou wrought on this wise and\nsufferedst not the jewellers to complete the Kiosque-window\nleaving in the pavilion an unfinished place?\" Alaeddin replied \"O\nKing of the Age, I left it not imperfect save for a design of\nmine own; nor was I incapable of perfecting it nor could I\npurpose that thy Highness should honour me with visiting a\npavilion wherein was aught of deficiency. And, that thou mayest\nknow I am not unable to make it perfect, let thy Highness deign\nwalk upstairs with me and see if anything remain to be done\ntherewith or not.\" So the Sultan went up with him and, entering\nthe Kiosque, fell to looking right and left, but he saw no\ndefault at all in any of the windows; nay, he noted that all were\nperfect. So he marvelled at the sight and embraced Alaeddin and\nkissed him, saying, \"O my son, what be this singular feat? Thou\ncanst work in a single night what in months the jewellers could\nnot do. By Allah, I deem thou hast nor brother nor rival in this\nworld.\" Quoth Alaeddin, \"Allah prolong thy life and preserve thee\nto perpetuity! thy slave deserveth not this encomium;\" and Quoth\nthe King, \"By Allah, O my child, thou meritest all praise for a\nfeat whereof all the artists of the world were incapable.\" Then\nthe Sultan came down and entered the apartments of his daughter\nthe Lady Badr al-Budur, to take rest beside her, and he saw her\njoyous exceedingly at the glory and grandeur wherein she was;\nthen, after reposing awhile he returned to his palace. Now\nAlaeddin was wont every day to thread the city-streets with his\nMamelukes riding a-van and a-rear of him showering rightwards and\nleftwards gold upon the folk; and all the world, stranger and\nneighbour, far and near, were fulfilled of his love for the\nexcess of his liberality and generosity. Moreover he increased\nthe pensions of the poor Religious and the paupers and he would\ndistribute alms to them with his own hand; by which good deed, he\nwon high renown throughout the realm and most of the Lords of the\nland and Emirs would eat at his table; and men swore not at all\nsave by his precious life. Nor did he leave faring to the chase\nand the Maydan-plain and the riding of horses and playing at\njavelin-play[FN#186] in presence of the Sultan; and, whenever the\nLady Badr al-Budur beheld him disporting himself on the backs of\nsteeds, she loved him much the more, and thought to herself that\nAllah had wrought her abundant good by causing to happen whatso\nhappened with the son of the Wazir and by preserving her\nvirginity intact for her true bridegroom, Alaeddin.--And\nShahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her\npermitted say.\n\n     When it was the Five Hundred and Seventy-third Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales.\" Whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that Alaeddin won for himself day by day a fairer fame and a\nrarer report, while affection for him increased in the hearts of\nall the lieges and he waxed greater in the eyes of men. Moreover\nit chanced that in those days certain enemies took horse and\nattacked the Sultan, who armed and accoutred an army to repel\nthem and made Alaeddin commander thereof. So he marched with his\nmen nor ceased marching until he drew near the foe whose forces\nwere exceeding many; and, presently, when the action began he\nbared his brand and charged home upon the enemy. Then battle and\nslaughter befel and violent was the hurry-burly, but at last\nAlaeddin broke the hostile host and put all to flight, slaying\nthe best part of them and pillaging their coin and cattle,\nproperty and possessions; and he despoiled them of spoils that\ncould not be counted nor computed. Then he returned victorious\nafter a noble victory and entered the capital which had decorated\nherself in his honour, of her delight in him; and the Sultan went\nforth to meet him and giving him joy embraced him and kissed him;\nand throughout the kingdom was held high festival with great joy\nand gladness. Presently, the Sovran and his son-in-law repaired\nto the pavilion where they were met by the Princess Badr al-Budur\nwho rejoiced in her husband and, after kissing him between the\neyes, led him to her apartments. After a time the Sultan also\ncame and they sat down while the slave-girls brought them\nsherbets and confections which they ate and drank. Then the\nSultan commanded that the whole kingdom be decorated for the\ntriumph of his son-in-law and his victory over the invader; and\nthe subjects and soldiery and all the people knew only Allah in\nheaven and Alaeddin on earth; for that their love, won by his\nliberality, was increased by his noble horsemanship and his\nsuccessful battling for the country and putting to flight the\nfoe. Such then was the high fortune of Alaeddin; but as regards\nthe Maghrabi, the Magician, after returning to his native\ncountry, he passed all this space of time in bewailing what he\nhad borne of toil and travail to win the Lamp and mostly that his\ntrouble had gone vain and that the morsel when almost touching\nhis lips had flown from his grasp. He pondered all this and\nmourned and reviled Alaeddin for the excess of his rage against\nhim and at times he would exclaim, \"For this bastard's death\nunderground I am well satisfied and hope only that some time or\nother I may obtain the Lamp, seeing how 'tis yet safe.\" Now one\nday of the days he struck a table of sand and dotted down the\nfigures and carefully considered their consequence; then he\ntransferred them to paper that he might study them and make sure\nof Alaeddin's destruction and the safety of the Lamp preserved\nbeneath the earth. Presently, he firmly stablished the sequence\nof the figures, mothers as well as daughters,[FN#187]  but still\nhe saw not the Lamp. Thereupon rage overrode him and he made\nanother trial to be assured of Alaeddin's death; but he saw him\nnot in the Enchanted Treasure. Hereat his wrath still grew, and\nit waxed greater when he ascertained that the youth had issued\nfrom underground and was now upon earth's surface alive and\nalert: furthermore, that he had become owner of the Lamp, for\nwhich he had himself endured such toil and travail and troubles\nas man may not bear save for so great an object. Accordingly\nQuoth he to himself, \"I have suffered sore pains and penalties\nwhich none else could have endured for the Lamp's sake in order\nthat other than I may carry it off; and this Accursed hath taken\nit without difficulty. And who knoweth an he wot the virtues of\nthe Lamp, than whose owner none in the world should be\nwealthier?\" And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and\nceased to say her permitted say.\n\n     When it was the Five Hundred and Seventy-fourth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that the Maghrabi, the Magician, having considered and\nascertained that Alaeddin had escaped from the souterrain and had\ngotten the boon of the Lamp, said to himself, \"There is no help\nbut that I work for his destruction.\" He then struck another\ngeomantic table and examining the figures saw that the lad had\nwon for himself unmeasurable riches and had wedded the daughter\nof his King; so of his envy and jealousy he was fired with the\nflame of wrath; and, rising without let or stay, he equipped\nhimself and set forth for China-land, where he arrived in due\nseason. Now when he had reached the King's capital wherein was\nAlaeddin, he alighted at one of the Kh\u00e1ns; and, when he had\nrested from the weariness of wayfare, he donned his dress and\nwent down to wander about the streets, where he never passed a\ngroup without hearing them prate about the pavilion and its\ngrandeur and vaunt the beauty of Alaeddin and his lonesomeness,\nhis liberality and generosity, his fine manners and his good\nmorals. Presently he entered an establishment wherein men were\ndrinking a certain warm beverage;[FN#188] and, going up to one of\nthose who were loud in their lauds, he said to him, \"O fair\nyouth, who may be the man ye describe and commend?\" \"Apparently\nthou art a foreigner, O man,\" answered the other, \"and thou\ncomest from a far country; but, even this granted, how happeneth\nit thou hast not heard of the Emir Alaeddin whose renown, I\nfancy, hath filled the universe and whose pavilion, known by\nreport to far and near, is one of the Wonders of the World? How,\nthen, never came to thine ears aught of this or the name of\nAlaeddin (whose glory and enjoyment our Lord increase!) and his\nfame?\" The Moorman replied, \"The sum of my wishes is to look upon\nthis pavilion and, if thou wouldest do me a favour, prithee guide\nme thereunto, for I am a foreigner.\" The man rejoined, \"To hear\nis to obey;\" and, foregoing him pointed out Alaeddin's pavilion,\nwhereupon the Maroccan fell to considering it and at once\nunderstood that it was the work of the Lamp. So he cried, \"Ah!\nAh! needs must I dig a pit for this Accursed, this son of a snip,\nwho could not earn for himself even an evening meal: and, if the\nFates abet me, I will assuredly destroy his life and send his\nmother back to spinning at her wheel, e'en as she was wont\nerewhiles to do.\" So saying, he returned to his caravanserai in a\nsore state of grief and melancholy and regret bred by his envy\nand hate of Alaeddin.--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of\nday and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n     When it was the Five Hundred and Seventy-fifth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that when the Maghrabi, the Magician, reached his\ncaravanserai, he took his astrological gear[FN#189] and geomantic\ntable to discover where might be the Lamp; and he found that it\nwas in the pavilion and not upon Alaeddin's person. So he\nrejoiced thereat with joy exceeding and exclaimed, \"Now indeed\n'twill be an easy task to take the life of this Accursed and I\nsee my way to getting the Lamp.\" Then he went to a coppersmith\nand said to him, \"Do thou make me a set of lamps and take from me\ntheir full price and more; only I would have thee hasten to\nfinish them.\" Replied the smith, \"Hearing and obeying,\" and fell\naworking to keep his word; and when they were ready the Moorman\npaid him what price he required; then taking them he carried them\nto the Khan and set them in a basket. Presently he began\nwandering about the highways and market-streets of the capital\ncrying aloud, \"Ho! who will exchange old lamps for new\nlamps?''[FN#190] But when the folk heard him cry on this wise,\nthey derided him and said, \"Doubtless this man is Jinn-mad, for\nthat he goeth about offering new for old;\" and a world followed\nhim and the children of the quarter caught him up from place to\nplace, laughing at him the while, nor did he forbid them or care\nfor their maltreatment. And he ceased not strolling about the\nstreets till he came under Alaeddin's pavilion,[FN#191] where he\nshouted with his loudest voice and the boys screamed at him, \"A\nmadman! A madman!\" Now Destiny had decreed that the Lady Badr al-\nBudur be sitting in her Kiosque whence she heard one crying like\na crier, and the children bawling at him; only she understood not\nwhat was going on; so she gave orders to one of her slave-girls\nsaying,[FN#192] \"Go thou and see who 'tis that crieth and what be\nhis cry?\" The girl fared forth and looked on when she beheld a\nman crying, \"Ho! who will exchange old lamps for new lamps?\" and\nthe little ones pursuing and laughing at him; and as loudly\nlaughed the Princess when this strange case was told to her. Now\nAlaeddin had carelessly left the Lamp in his pavilion without\nhiding it and locking it up in his strong box;[FN#193] and one of\nthe slave-girls who had seen it said, \"O my lady, I think to have\nnoticed, in the apartment of my lord Alaeddin, an old lamp: so\nlet us give it in change for a new lamp to this man, and see if\nhis cry be truth or lie.\"--And Shahrazad was surprised by the\ndawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n     When it was the Five Hundred and Seventy-sixth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n'With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that hereupon the Princess said to the slave-girl, 'Bring\nthe old lamp which thou saidst to have seen in thy lord's\napartment.\" Now the Lady Badr al-Budur knew naught of the Lamp\nand of the specialties thereof which had raised Alaeddin her\nspouse to such high degree and grandeur; and her only end and aim\nwas to understand by experiment the mind of a man who would give\nin exchange the new for the old. So the handmaid fared forth and\nwent up to Alaeddin's apartment and returned with the Lamp to her\nlady who, like all the others, knew nothing of the Maghrabi's\ncunning tricks and his crafty device. Then the Princess bade an\nAgh\u00e1 of the eunuchry go down and barter the old Lamp for a new\nlamp. So he obeyed her bidding and, after taking a new lamp from\nthe man, he returned and laid it before his lady who looking at\nit and seeing that it was brand-new, fell to laughing at the\nMoorman's wits. But the Maroccan, when he held the article in\nhand and recognised it for the Lamp of the Enchanted\nTreasury,[FN#194] at once placed it in his breast-pocket and left\nall the other lamps to the folk who were bartering of him. Then\nhe went forth running till he was clear of the city, when he\nwalked leisurely over the level grounds and he took patience\nuntil night fell on him in desert ground where was none other but\nhimself. There he brought out the Lamp when suddenly appeared to\nhim the Marid who said, \"Adsum! thy slave between thy hands is\ncome: ask of me whatso thou wantest.\" \" 'tis my desire,\" the\nMoorman replied, \"that thou upraise from its present place\nAlaeddin's pavilion with its inmates and all that be therein, not\nforgetting myself, and set it down upon my own land, Africa. Thou\nknowest my town and I want the building placed in the gardens\nhard by it.\" The Marid-slave replied, \"Hearkening and obedience:\nclose thine eyes and open thine eyes whenas thou shalt find\nthyself together with the pavilion in thine own country.\" This\nwas done; and, in an eye-twinkling, the Maroccan and the pavilion\nwith all therein were transported to the African land. Such then\nwas the work of the Maghrabi, the Magician; but now let us return\nto the Sultan and his son-in-law. It was the custom of the King,\nbecause of his attachment to and his affection for his daughter,\nevery morning when he had shaken off sleep, to open the latticed\ncasement and look out therefrom that he might catch sight of her\nabode. So that day he arose and did as he was wont.--And\nShahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her\npermitted say.\n\n    When it was the Five Hundred and Seventy-seventh Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that when the Sultan drew near the latticed casement of his\npalace and looked out at Alaeddin's pavilion he saw naught; nay,\nthe site was smooth as a well-trodden highway and like unto what\nit had been aforetime; and he could find nor edifice nor offices.\nSo astonishment clothed him as with a garment, and his wits were\nwildered and he began to rub his eyes, lest they be dimmed or\ndarkened, and to gaze intently; but at last he was certified that\nno trace of the pavilion remained nor sign of its being; nor wist\nhe the why and the wherefore of its disappearance. So his\nsurprise increased and he smote hand upon hand and the tears\ntrickled down his cheeks over his beard, for that he knew not\nwhat had become of his daughter. Then he sent out officials\nforthright and summoned the Grand Wazir who at once attended;\nand, seeing him in this piteous plight said, 'Pardon, O King of\nthe Age, may Allah avert from thee every ill! Wherefore art thou\nin such sorrow?\" Exclaimed the Sovran, \"Methinketh thou wottest\nnot my case?\" and Quoth the Minister, \"On no wise. O our lord: by\nAllah, I know of it nothing  at all.\" \"Then,\" resumed the Sultan,\n\" 'tis manifest thou hast not looked this day in the direction of\nAlaeddin's pavilion.\" \"True, O my lord,\" Quoth the Wazir, \"it\nmust still be locked and fast shut;\" and Quoth the King,\n\"Forasmuch as thou hast no inkling of aught,[FN#195] arise and\nlook out at the window and see Alaeddin's pavilion whereof thou\nsayest 'tis locked and fast shut.\" The Minister obeyed his\nbidding but could not see anything, or pavilion or other place;\nso with mind and thoughts sore perplexed he returned to his liege\nlord who asked him, \"Hast now learned the reason of my distress\nand noted yon locked-up palace and fast shut?\" Answered the\nWazir, \"O King of the Age erewhile I represented to thy Highness\nthat this pavilion and these matters be all magical.\" Hereat the\nSultan, fired with wrath, cried, \"Where be Alaeddin?\" and the\nMinister replied, \"He hath gone a-hunting,\" when the King\ncommanded without stay or delay sundry of his Aghas and Army-\nofficers to go and bring to him his son-in-law chained and with\npinioned elbows. So they fared forth until they found Alaeddin\nwhen they said to him, \"O our lord Alaeddin, excuse us nor be\nthou wroth with us; for the King hath commanded that we carry\nthee before him pinioned and fettered, and we hope pardon from\nthee because we are under the royal orders which we cannot\ngainsay.\" Alaeddin, hearing these words, was seized with surprise\nand not knowing the reason of this remained tongue-tied for a\ntime, after which he turned to them and asked, \"O assembly, have\nyou naught of knowledge concerning the motive of the royal\nmandate? Well I wot my soul to be innocent and that I never\nsinned against king or against kingdom.\" \"O our lord,\" answered\nthey, \"we have no inkling whatever.\" So Alaeddin alighted from\nhis horse and said to them, \"Do ye whatso the Sultan bade you do,\nfor that the King's command is upon the head and the\neyes.\"[FN#196]--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day\nand ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n     When it was the Five Hundred and Seventy-eighth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that the Aghas, having bound Alaeddin in bonds and pinioned\nhis elbows behind his back, haled him in chains and carried him\ninto the city. But when the lieges saw him pinioned and ironed,\nthey understood that the Sultan purposed to strike off his head;\nand, forasmuch as he was loved of them exceedingly, all gathered\ntogether and seized their weapons; then, swarming out of their\nhouses, followed the soldiery to see what was to do. And when the\ntroops arrived with Alaeddin at the palace, they went in and\ninformed the Sultan of this, whereat he forthright commanded the\nSworder to cut off the head of his son-in-law. Now as soon as the\nsubjects were aware of this order, they barricaded the gates and\nclosed the doors of the palace and sent a message to the King\nsaying, \"At this very moment we will level thine abode over the\nheads of all it containeth and over thine own,[FN#197] if the\nleast hurt or harm befal Alaeddin.\" So the Wazir went in and\nreported to the Sultan, \"O King of the Age, thy commandment is\nabout to seal the roll of our lives; and 'twere more suitable\nthat thou pardon thy son-in-law lest there chance to us a sore\nmischance; for that the lieges do love him far more than they\nlove us.\" Now the Sworder had already dispread the carpet of\nblood and, having seated Alaeddin thereon, had bandaged his eyes;\nmoreover he had walked round him several times awaiting the last\norders of his lord, when the King looked out of the window and\nsaw his subjects, who had suddenly attacked him, swarming up the\nwalls intending to tear them down. So forthright he bade the\nSworder stay his hand from Alaeddin and commanded the crier fare\nforth to the crowd and cry aloud that he had pardoned his son-in-\nlaw and received him back into favour. But when Alaeddin found\nhimself free and saw the Sultan seated on his throne, he went up\nto him and said, \"O my lord, inasmuch as thy Highness hath\nfavoured me throughout my life, so of thy grace now deign let me\nknow the how and the wherein I have sinned against thee?\" \"O\ntraitor,\" cried the King, \"unto this present I knew not any sin of\nthine;\" then, turning to the Wazir he said, \"Take him and make\nhim look out at the window and after let him tell us where be his\npavilion.\" And when the royal order was obeyed Alaeddin saw the\nplace level as a well trodden road, even as it had been ere the\nbase of the building was laid, nor was there the faintest trace\nof edifice. Hereat he was astonished and perplexed knowing not\nwhat had occurred; but, when he returned to the presence, the\nKing asked him, \"What is it thou hast seen? Where is thy pavilion\nand where is my daughter, the core of my heart, my only child,\nthan whom I have none other?\" Alaeddin answered \"O King of the\nAge, I wot naught thereof nor aught of what hath befallen,\" and\nthe Sultan rejoined, \"Thou must know, O Alaeddin, I have pardoned\nthee only that thou go forth and look into this affair and\nenquire for me concerning my daughter; nor do thou ever show\nthyself in my presence except she be with thee; and, if thou\nbring her not, by the life of my head, I will cut off the head of\nthee.\" The other replied, \"To hear is to obey: only vouchsafe me\na delay and respite of some forty days; after which, an I produce\nher not, strike off my head[FN#198] and do with me whatso thou\nwishes\".\"--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and\nceased to say her permitted say.\n\n     When it was the Five Hundred and Seventy-ninth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that the Sultan said to Alaeddin, \"Verily I have granted\nthee thy request, a delay of forty days; but think not thou canst\nfly from my hand, for I would bring thee back even if thou wert\nabove the clouds instead of being only upon earth's surface.\"\nReplied Alaeddin, \"O my lord the Sultan, as I said to thy\nHighness, an I fail to bring her within the term appointed, I\nwill present myself for my head to be stricken off.\" Now when the\nfolk and the lieges all saw Alaeddin at liberty, they rejoiced\nwith joy exceeding and were delighted for his release; but the\nshame of his treatment and bashfulness before his friends and the\nenvious exultation of his foes had bowed down Alaeddin's head; so\nhe went forth a wandering through the city ways and he was\nperplexed concerning his case and knew not what had befallen him.\nHe lingered about the capital for two days, in saddest state,\nwotting not what to do in order to find his wife and his\npavilion, and during this time sundry of the folk privily brought\nhim meat and drink. When the two days were done he left the city\nto stray about the waste and open lands outlying the walls,\nwithout a notion as to whither he should wend; and he walked on\naimlessly until the path led him beside a river where, of the\nstress of sorrow that overwhelmed him, he abandoned himself to\ndespair and thought of casting himself into the water. Being,\nhowever, a good Moslem who professed the unity of the God-head,\nhe feared Allah in his soul; and, standing upon the margin he\nprepared to perform the Wuz\u00fa-ablution. But as he was baling up\nthe water in his right hand and rubbing his fingers,[FN#199] it\nso chanced that he also rubbed the Ring. Hereat its Marid\nappeared and said to him, \"Adsum! thy thrall between thy hands is\ncome: ask of me whatso thou wantest.\" Seeing the Marid, Alaeddin\nrejoiced with exceeding joy and cried,[FN#200] \"O Slave, I desire\nof thee that thou bring before me my pavilion and therein my\nwife, the Lady Badr al-Budur, together with all and everything it\ncontaineth.\" \"O my lord,\" replied the Marid, \" 'tis right hard\nupon me that thou demandest a service whereto I may not avail:\nthis matter dependeth upon the Slave of the Lamp nor dare I even\nattempt it.\" Alaeddin rejoined, \"Forasmuch as the matter is\nbeyond thy competence, I require it not of thee, but at least do\nthou take me up and set me down beside my pavilion in what land\nsoever that may be.\" The Slave exclaimed, \"Hearing and obeying, O\nmy lord ;\" and, uplifting him high in air, with in the space of\nan eye-glance set him down beside his pavilion in the land of\nAfrica and upon a spot facing his wife's apartment. Now this was\nat fall of night yet one look enabled him to recognise his home;\nwhereby his cark and care were cleared away and he recovered\ntrust in Allah after cutting off all his hope to look upon his\nwife once more. Then he fell to pondering the secret and\nmysterious favours of the Lord (glorified be His omnipotence!);\nand how, after despair had mastered him, the Ring had come to\ngladden him and how, when all his hopes were cut off Allah had\ndeigned bless him with the services of its Slave. So he rejoiced\nand his melancholy left him; then, as he had passed four days\nwithout sleep for the excess of his cark and care and sorrow and\nstress of thought, he drew near his pavilion and slept under a\ntree hard by the building which (as we mentioned) had been set\ndown amongst the gardens outlying the city of Africa.--And\nShahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her\npermitted say.\n\n       When it was the Five Hundred and Eightieth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that Alaeddin lay that night under a tree beside his\npavilion in all restfulness; but whoso weareth head hard by the\nheadsman may not sleep o' nights save whenas slumber prevail over\nhim. He slumbered till Morning showed her face and, when awakened\nby the warbling of the small birds, he arose and went down to the\nbank of the river which flowed thereby into the city; and here he\nagain washed hands and face [FN#201] and after finished his Wuz\u00fa-\nablution. Then he prayed the dawn-prayer, and when he had ended\nhis orisons he returned and sat down under the windows of the\nPrincess's bower. Now the Lady Badr al-Budur, of her exceeding\nsorrow for severance from her husband and her sire the Sultan,\nand for the great mishap which had happened to her from the\nMaghrabi, the Magician, the Accursed, was wont to rise during the\nmurk preceding dawn and to sit in tears inasmuch as she could not\nsleep o' nights, and had forsworn meat and drink. Her favourite\nslave-girl would enter her chamber at the hour of prayer-\nsalutation in order to dress her; and this time, by decree of\nDestiny, when she threw open the window to let her lady comfort\nand console herself by looking upon the trees and rills, and she\nherself peered out of the lattice, she caught sight of her master\nsitting below, and informed the Princess of this, saying, \"O my\nlady! O my lady! here's my lord Alaeddin seated at the foot of\nthe wall.\" So her mistress arose hurriedly and gazing from the\ncasement saw him; and her husband raising his head saw her; so\nshe saluted him and he saluted her, both being like to fly for\njoy. Presently Quoth she, \"Up and come in to me by the private\npostern, for now the Accursed is not here;\" and she gave orders\nto the slave-girl who went down and opened for him. Then Alaeddin\npassed through it and was met by his wife, when they embraced and\nexchanged kisses with all delight until they wept for overjoy.\nAfter this they sat down and Alaeddin said to her, \"O my lady,\nbefore all things 'tis my desire to ask thee a question. 'Twas my\nwont to place an old copper lamp in such a part of my pavilion,\nwhat became of that same?\" When the Princess heard these words\nshe sighed and cried, \"O my dearling, 'twas that very Lamp which\ngarred us fall into this calamity!\" Alaeddin asked her, \"How\nbefel the affair?\" and she answered by recounting to him all that\npassed, first and last, especially how they had given in exchange\nan old lamp for a new lamp, adding, \"And next day we hardly saw\none another at dawn before we found ourselves in this land, and\nhe who deceived us and took the lamp by way of barter informed me\nthat he had done the deed by might of his magic and by means of\nthe Lamp; that he is a Moorman from Africa, and that we are now\nin his native country.\"--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn\nof day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Eighty-first Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that when the Lady Badr al-Budur ceased speaking, Alaeddin\nresumed, \"Tell me the intent of this Accursed in thy respect,\nalso what he sayeth to thee and what be his will of thee?\" She\nreplied, \"Every day he cometh to visit me once and no more: he\nwould woo me to his love and he sueth that I take him to spouse\nin lieu of thee and that I forget thee and be consoled for the\nloss of thee. And he telleth me that the Sultan my sire hath cut\noff my husband's head, adding that thou, the son of pauper\nparents, wast by him enriched. And he sootheth me with talk, but\nhe never seeth aught from me save weeping and wailing; nor hath\nhe heard from me one sugar-sweet word.\"[FN#202] Quoth Alaeddin,\n\"Tell me where he hath placed the Lamp an thou know anything\nthereof:\" and Quoth she, \"He beareth it about on his body alway,\nnor is it possible that he leave it for a single hour; moreover\nonce when he related what I have now recounted to thee, he\nbrought it out of his breast-pocket and allowed me to look upon\nit.\" When Alaeddin heard these words, he joyed with exceeding joy\nand said, \"O my lady, do thou lend ear to me. 'Tis my design to\ngo from thee forthright and to return only after doffing this my\ndress; so wonder not when thou see me changed, but direct one of\nthy women to stand by the private postern alway and, whenever she\nespy me coming, at once to open. And now I will devise a device\nwhereby to slay this damned loon.\" Herewith he arose and, issuing\nfrom the pavilion door, walked till he met on the way a Fellah to\nwhom he said, \"O man, take my attire and give me thy garments.\"\nBut the peasant refused, so Alaeddin stripped him of his dress\nperforce[FN#203] and donned it, leaving to the man his own rich\ngear by way of gift. Then he followed the highway leading to the\nneighbouring city and entering it went to the Perfumers' Bazar\nwhere he bought of one some rarely potent Bhang, the son of a\nminute,[FN#204] paying two dinars for two drachms thereof and he\nreturned in disguise by the same road till he reached the\npavilion. Here the slave-girl opened to him the private postern\nwherethrough he went in to the Lady Badr al-Budur.--And Shahrazad\nwas surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted\nsay.\n\n     When it Was the Five Hundred and Eighty-second Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that when Alaeddin went in disguised to his wife he said,\n\"Hear me! I desire of thee that thou dress and dight thyself in\nthy best and thou cast off all outer show and semblance of care;\nalso when the Accursed, the Maghrabi, shall visit thee, do thou\nreceive him with a 'Welcome and fair welcome,' and meet him with\nsmiling face and invite him to come and sup with thee. Moreover,\nlet him note that thou hast forgotten Alaeddin thy beloved,\nlikewise thy father; and that thou hast learned to love him with\nexceeding love, displaying to him all manner joy and pleasure.\nThen ask him for wine which must be red and pledge him to his\nsecret in a significant draught; and, when thou hast given him\ntwo to three cups full and hast made him wax careless, then drop\nthese drops into his cup and fill it up with wine: no sooner\nshall he drink of it than he will fall upon his back senseless as\none dead.\" Hearing these words, the Princess exclaimed,\" 'Tis\nexceedingly sore to me that I do such deed;[FN#205] withal must I\ndo it that we escape the defilement of this Accursed who tortured\nme by severance from thee and from my sire. Lawful and right\ntherefore is the slaughter of this Accursed.\" Then Alaeddin ate\nand drank with his wife what hindered his hunger; then, rising\nwithout stay or delay, fared forth the pavilion. So the Lady Badr\nal-Budur summoned the tirewoman who robed and arrayed her in her\nfinest raiment and adorned her and perfumed her; and, as she was\nthus, behold, the accursed Maghrabi entered. He joyed much seeing\nher in such case and yet more when she confronted him, contrary\nto her custom, with a laughing face; and his love-longing\nincreased and his desire to have her. Then she took him and,\nseating him beside her, said, \"O my dearling, do thou (an thou be\nwilling) come to me this night and let us sup together.\nSufficient to me hath been my sorrow for, were I to sit mourning\nthrough a thousand years or even two thousand, Alaeddin would not\nreturn to me from the tomb; and I depend upon thy say of\nyesterday, to wit, that my sire the Sultan slew him in his stress\nof sorrow for severance from me. Nor wonder thou an I have\nchanged this day from what I was yesterday; and the reason\nthereof is I have determined upon taking thee to friend and\nplayfellow in lieu of and succession to Alaeddin, for that now I\nhave none other man but thyself. So I hope for thy presence this\nnight, that we may sup together and we may carouse and drink\nsomewhat of wine each with other; and especially 'tis my desire\nthat thou cause me taste the wine of thy natal soil, the African\nland, because belike 'tis better than aught of the wine of China\nwe drink: I have with me some wine but 'tis the growth of my\ncountry and I vehemently wish to taste the wine produced by\nthine.\" And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased\nto say her permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Eighty-third Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that when the Maghrabi saw the love lavisht upon him by the\nLady Badr al-Budur, and noted her change from the sorrowful,\nmelancholy woman she was wont to be, he thought that she had cut\noff her hope of Alaeddin and he joyed exceedingly and said to\nher, \"I hear and obey, O my lady, whatso thou wishest and all\nthou biddest. I have at home a jar of our country wine, which I\nhave carefully kept and stored deep in earth for a space of eight\nyears; and I will now fare and fill from it our need and will\nreturn to thee in all haste.\" But the Princess, that she might\nwheedle him the more and yet more, replied \"O my darling, go not\nthou, leaving me alone, but send one of the eunuchs to fill for\nus thereof and do thou remain sitting beside me, that I may find\nin thee my consolation.\" He rejoined, \"O my lady, none wotteth\nwhere the jar be buried save myself nor will I tarry from thee.\"\nSo saying, the Moorman went out and after a short time he brought\nback as much wine as they wanted whereupon Quoth the Princess to\nhim, \"Thou hast been at pains and trouble to serve me and I have\nsuffered for thy sake, O my beloved.\" Quoth he, \"On no wise, O\neyes of me; I hold myself enhonoured by thy service.\" Then the\nLady Badr al-Budur sat with him at table, and the twain fell to\neating and presently the Princess expressed a wish to drink, when\nthe handmaid filled her a cup forthright and then crowned another\nfor the Maroccan. So she drank to his long life and his secret\nwishes and he also drank to her life; then the Princess, who was\nunique in eloquence and delicacy of speech, fell to making a cup\ncompanion of him and beguiled him by addressing him in the\nsweetest terms full of hidden meaning. This was done only that he\nmight become more madly enamoured of her, but the Maghrabi\nthought that it resulted from her true inclination for him; nor\nknew that it was a snare set up to slay him. So his longing for\nher increased, and he was dying of love for her when he saw her\naddress him in such tenderness of words and thoughts, and his\nhead began to swim and all the world seemed as nothing in his\neyes. But when they came to the last of the supper and the wine\nhad mastered his brains and the Princess saw this in him, she\nsaid, \"With us there be a custom throughout our country, but I\nknow not an it be the usage of yours or not.\" The Moorman\nreplied, \"And what may that be?\" So she said to him, \"At the end\nof supper each lover in turn taketh the cup of the beloved and\ndrinketh it off;\" and at once she crowned one with wine and bade\nthe handmaid carry to him her cup wherein the drink was blended\nwith the Bhang. Now she had taught the slave-girl what to do and\nall the handmaids and eunuchs in the pavilion longed for the\nSorcerer's slaughter and in that matter were one with the\nPrincess. Accordingly the damsel handed him the cup and he, when\nhe heard her words and saw her drinking from his cup and passing\nhers to him noted all that show of love, fancied himself\nIskander, Lord of the Two Horns. Then said she to him, the while\nswaying gracefully to either side and putting her hand within his\nhand, \"O my life, here is thy cup with me and my cup with thee,\nand on this wise [FN#206] do lovers drink from each other's\ncups.\" Then she bussed the brim and drained it to the dregs and\nagain she kissed its lip and offered it to him. Thereat he flew\nfor joy and meaning to do the like, raised her cup to his mouth\nand drank off the whole contents, without considering whether\nthere was therein aught harmful or not. And forthright he rolled\nupon his back in deathlike condition and the cup dropped from his\ngrasp, whereupon the Lady Badr al-Budur and the slave-girls ran\nhurriedly and opened the pavilion door to their lord Alaeddin\nwho, disguised as a Fellah, entered therein.--And Shahrazad was\nsurprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n     When it was the Five Hundred and Eighty-fourth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that Alaeddin entering his pavilion, went up to the\napartment of his wife, whom he found still sitting at table; and\nfacing her lay the Maghrabi as one slaughtered; so he at once\ndrew near to her and kissed her and thanked her for this. Then\nrejoicing with joy exceeding he turned to her and said \"Do thou\nwith thy handmaids betake thyself to the inner-rooms and leave me\nalone for the present that I may take counsel touching mine\naffair.\" The Princess hesitated not but went away at once, she\nand her women; then Alaeddin arose and after locking the door\nupon them, walked up to the Moorman and put forth his hand to his\nbreast-pocket and thence drew the Lamp; after which he unsheathed\nhis sword and slew the villain.[FN#207] Presently he rubbed the\nLamp and the Marid-slave appeared and said, \"Adsum, O my lord,\nwhat is it thou wantest?\" \"I desire of thee,\" said Alaeddin,\n\"that thou take up my pavilion from this country and transport it\nto the land of China and there set it down upon the site where it\nwas whilome, fronting the palace of the Sultan.\" The Marid\nreplied, \"Hearing and obeying, O my lord.' Then Alaeddin went and\nsat down with his wife and throwing his arms round her neck\nkissed her and she kissed him, and they sat in converse, what\nwhile the Jinni transported the pavilion and all therein to the\nplace appointed. Presently Alaeddin bade the handmaids spread the\ntable before him and he and the Lady Badr al-Budur took seat\nthereat and fell to eating and drinking, in all joy and gladness,\ntill they had their sufficiency when, removing to the chamber of\nwine and cup-converse, they sat there and caroused in fair\ncompanionship and each kissed other with all love-liesse. The\ntime had been long and longsome since they enjoyed aught of\npleasure; so they ceased not doing thus until the wine-sun arose\nin their heads and sleep gat hold of them, at which time they\nwent to their bed in all ease and comfort.[FN#208] Early on the\nnext morning Alaeddin woke and awoke his wife, and the slave-\ngirls came in and donned her dress and prepared her and adorned\nher whilst her husband arrayed himself in his costliest raiment\nand the twain were ready to fly for joy at reunion after parting.\nMoreover the Princess was especially joyous and gladsome because\non that day she expected to see her beloved father. Such was the\ncase of Alaeddin and the Lady Badr al-Budur; but as regards the\nSultan, after he drove away his son-in-law he never ceased to\nsorrow for the loss of his daughter; and every hour of every day\nhe would sit and weep for her as women weep, because she was his\nonly child and he had none other to take to heart. And as he\nshook off sleep, morning after morning, he would hasten to the\nwindow and throw it open and peer in the direction where formerly\nstood Alaeddin's pavilion and pour forth tears until his eyes\nwere dried up and their lids were ulcered. Now on that day he\narose at dawn and, according to his custom, looked out when, lo\nand behold! he saw before him an edifice; so he rubbed his eyes\nand considered it curiously when he became certified that it was\nthe pavilion of his son-in-law. So he called for a horse [FN#209]\nwithout let or delay; and as soon as his beast was saddled, he\nmounted and made for the place; and Alaeddin, when he saw his\nfather-in-law approaching, went down and met him half way: then,\ntaking his hand, aided him to step upstairs to the apartment of\nhis daughter. And the Princess, being as earnestly desirous to\nsee her sire, descended and greeted him at the door of the\nstaircase fronting the ground-floor hall. Thereupon the King\nfolded her in his arms and kissed her, shedding tears of joy; and\nshe did likewise till at last Alaeddin led them to the upper\nsaloon where they took seats and the Sultan fell to asking her\ncase and what had betided her.--And Shahrazad was surprised by\nthe dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Eighty-fifth Night,\n\n   Quoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy,\ndo tell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad\nreplied, With love and good will.\"---It hath reached me, O King\nof the Age, that the Lady Badr al-Budur began to inform the\nSultan of all which had befallen her, saying, \"O my father, I\nrecovered not life save yesterday when I saw my husband, and he\nit was who freed me from the thraldom of that Maghrabi, that\nMagician, that Accursed, than whom I believe there be none viler\non the face of earth; and, but for my beloved, I had never\nescaped him nor hadst thou seen me during the rest of my days.\nBut mighty sadness and sorrow gat about me, O my father, not only\nfor losing thee but also for the loss of a husband, under whose\nkindness I shall be all the length of my life, seeing that he\nfreed me from that fulsome sorcerer.\" Then the Princess began\nrepeating to her sire every thing that happened to her, and\nrelating to him how the Moorman had tricked her in the guise of a\nlamp-seller who offered in exchange new for old; how she had\ngiven him the Lamp whose worth she knew not, and how she had\nbartered it away only to laugh at the lampman's folly. \"And next\nmorning, O my father,\" she continued, \"we found ourselves and\nwhatso the pavilion contained in Africa-land, till such time as\nmy husband came to us and devised a device whereby we escaped:\nand, had it not been for Alaeddin's hastening to our aid, the\nAccursed was determined to enjoy me perforce.\" Then she told him\nof the Bhang-drops administered in wine to the African and\nconcluded, \"Then my husband returned to me and how I know not,\nbut we were shifted from Africa land to this place.\" Alaeddin in\nhis turn recounted how, finding the wizard dead drunken, he had\nsent away his wife and her women from the polluted place into the\ninner apartments; how he had taken the Lamp from the Sorcerer's\nbreast-pocket whereto he was directed by his wife; how he had\nslaughtered the villain and, finally how, making use of the Lamp,\nhe had summoned its Slave and ordered him to transport the\npavilion back to its proper site, ending his tale with, \"And, if\nthy Highness have any doubt anent my words, arise with me and\nlook upon the accursed Magician.\" The King did accordingly and,\nhaving considered the Moorman, bade the carcase be carried away\nforthright and burned and its ashes scattered in air. Then he\ntook to embracing Alaeddin and kissing him said, \"Pardon me, O my\nson, for that I was about to destroy thy life through the foul\ndeeds of this damned enchanter, who cast thee into such pit of\nperil; and I may be excused, O my child, for what I did by thee,\nbecause I found myself forlorn of my daughter; my only one, who\nto me is dearer than my very kingdom. Thou knowest how the hearts\nof parents yearn unto their offspring, especially when like\nmyself they have but one and none other to love.\" And on this\nwise the Sultan took to excusing himself and kissing his son-in-\nlaw.--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day and ceased\nto say her permitted say,\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Eighty-sixth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that Alaeddin said to the Sultan, \"O King of the Time, thou\ndidst naught to me contrary to Holy Law, and I also sinned not\nagainst thee; but all the trouble came from that Maghrabi, the\nimpure, the Magician.\" Thereupon the Sultan bade the city be\ndecorated and they obeyed him and held high feast and\nfestivities. He also commanded the crier to cry about the streets\nsaying, \"This day is a mighty great f\u00eate, wherein public\nrejoicings must be held throughout the realm, for a full month of\nthirty days, in honour of the Lady Badr al-Budur and her husband\nAlaeddin's return to their home.\" On this wise befel it with\nAlaeddin and the Maghrabi; but withal the King's son-in-law\nescaped not wholly from the Accursed, albeit the body had been\nburnt and the ashes scattered in air. For the villain had a\nbrother yet more villainous than himself, and a greater adept in\nnecromancy, geomancy and astromancy; and, even as the old saw\nsaith \"A bean and 'twas split;\"[FN#210] so each one dwelt in his\nown quarter of the globe that he might fill it with his sorcery,\nhis fraud and his treason.[FN#211] Now, one day of the days it\nfortuned that the Moorman's brother would learn how it fared with\nhim, so he brought out his sandboard and dotted it and produced\nthe figures which, when he had considered and carefully studied\nthem, gave him to know that the man he sought was dead and housed\nin the tomb. So he grieved and was certified of his decease, but\nhe dotted a second time seeking to learn the manner of the death\nand where it had taken place; so he found that the site was the\nChina-land and that the mode was the foulest of slaughter;\nfurthermore, that he who did him die was a young man Alaeddin\nhight. Seeing this he straightway arose and equipped himself for\nwayfare; then he set out and cut across the wilds and woods and\nheights for the space of many a month until he reached China and\nthe capital of the Sultan wherein was the slayer of his brother.\nHe alighted at the so-called Strangers' Khan and, hiring himself\na cell, took rest therein for a while; then he fared forth and\nwandered about the highways that he might discern some path which\nwould aid him unto the winning of his ill-minded wish, to wit, of\nwreaking upon Alaeddin blood-revenge for his brother.[FN#212]\nPresently he entered a coffee-house, a fine building which stood\nin the market-place and which collected a throng of folk to play,\nsome at the mankalah,[FN#213] others at the backgammon[FN#214]\nand others at the chess and what not else. There he sat down and\nlistened to those seated beside him and they chanced to be\nconversing about an ancient dame and a holy, by name\nFatimah,[FN#215] who dwelt alway at her devotions in a hermitage\nwithout the town, and this she never entered save only two days\neach month. They mentioned also that she had performed many\nsaintly miracles[FN#216] which, when the Maghrabi, the\nNecromancer, heard he said in himself, \"Now have I found that\nwhich I sought: Inshallah--God willing--by means of this crone\nwill I win to my wish.\"--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn\nof day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n     When it was the Five Hundred and Eighty-seventh Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that the Maghrabi, the Necromancer, went up to the folk who\nwere talking of the miracles performed by the devout old woman\nand said to one of them, \"O my uncle, I heard you all chatting\nabout the prodigies of a certain saintess named Fatimah: who is\nshe and where may be her abode? \"Marvellous!\"[FN#217] exclaimed\nthe man: \"How canst thou be in our city and yet never have heard\nabout the miracles of the Lady Fatimah? Evidently, O thou poor\nfellow, thou art a foreigner, since the fastings of this devotee\nand her asceticism in worldly matters and the beauties of her\npiety never came to thine ears.\" The Moorman rejoined, \"'Tis\ntrue, O my lord: yes, I am a stranger and came to this your city\nonly yesternight; and I hope thou wilt inform me concerning the\nsaintly miracles of this virtuous woman and where may be her\nwone, for that I have fallen into a calamity, and 'tis my wish to\nvisit her and crave her prayers, so haply Allah (to whom be\nhonour and glory!) will, through her blessings, deliver me from\nmine evil.\" Hereat the man recounted to him the marvels of\nFatimah the Devotee and her piety and the beauties of her\nworship; then, taking him by the hand went with him without the\ncity and showed him the way to her abode, a cavern upon a\nhillock's head. The Necromancer acknowledged his kindness in many\nwords and, thanking him for his good offices, returned to his\ncell in the caravanserai. Now by the fiat of Fate on the very\nnext day Fatimah came down to the city, and the Maghrabi, the\nNecromancer, happened to leave his hostelry a-morn, when he saw\nthe folk swarming and crowding; wherefore he went up to discover\nwhat was to do and found the Devotee standing amiddlemost the\nthrong, and all who suffered from pain or sickness flocked to her\nsoliciting a blessing and praying for her prayers; and each and\nevery she touched became whole of his illness.[FN#218] The\nMaroccan, the Necromancer, followed her about until she returned\nto her antre; then, awaiting till the evening evened, he arose\nand repaired to a vintner's store where he drank a cup of wine.\nAfter this he fared forth the city and finding the Devotee's\ncavern, entered it and saw her lying prostrate[FN#219] with her\nback upon a strip of matting. So he came forward and mounted\nupon her belly; then he drew his dagger and shouted at her; and,\nwhen she awoke and opened her eyes, she espied a Moorish man with\nan unsheathed poniard sitting upon her middle as though about to\nkill her. She was troubled and sore terrified, but he said to\nher, \"Hearken! an thou cry out or utter a word I will slay thee\nat this very moment: arise now and do all I bid thee.\" Then he\nsware to her an oath that if she obeyed his orders, whatever they\nmight be, he would not do her die. So saying, he rose up from off\nher and Fatimah also arose, when he said to her, \"Give me thy\ngear and take thou my habit ;\" whereupon she gave him her\nclothing and head-fillets, her face-kerchief and her mantilla.\nThen Quoth he, \" 'tis also requisite that thou anoint me with\nsomewhat shall make the colour of my face like unto thine.\"\nAccordingly she went into the inner cavern and, bringing out a\ngallipot of ointment, spread somewhat thereof upon her palm and\nwith it besmeared his face until its hue favoured her own; then\nshe gave him her staff[FN#220] and, showing him how to walk and\nwhat to do when he entered the city, hung her rosary around his\nneck. Lastly she handed to him a mirror and said, \"Now look! Thou\ndifferest from me in naught;\" and he saw himself Fatimah's\ncounterpart as though she had never gone or come.[FN#221] But\nafter obtaining his every object he falsed his oath and asked for\na cord which she brought to him; then he seized her and strangled\nher in the cavern; and presently, when she was dead, haled the\ncorpse outside and threw it into a pit hard by.--And Shahrazad\nwas surprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted\nsay.\n\n     When it was the Five Hundred and Eighty-eighth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that the Maghrabi, after murthering Fatimah, threw her body\ninto a pit and went back to sleep in her cavern; and, when broke\nthe day, he rose and repairing to the town took his stand under\nthe walls of Alaeddin's pavilion. Hereupon flocked the folk about\nhim, all being certified that he was Fatimah the Devotee and he\nfell to doing whatso she was wont to do: he laid hands on these\nin pain and recited for those a chapter of the Koran and made\norisons for a third. Presently the thronging of the folk and the\nclamouring of the crowd were heard by the Lady Badr al-Budur, who\nsaid to her handmaidens, \"Look what is to do and what be the\ncause of this turmoil!\" Thereupon the Agha of the eunuchry fared\nforth to see what might be the matter and presently returning\nsaid, \"O my lady, this clamour is caused by the Lady Fatimah, and\nif thou be pleased to command, I will bring her to thee; so shalt\nthou gain through her a blessing.\" The Princess answered, \"Go\nbring her, for since many a day I am always hearing of her\nmiracles and her virtues, and I do long to see her and get a\nblessing by her intervention, for the folk recount her\nmanifestations in many cases of difficulty.\" The Agha went forth\nand brought in the Maroccan, the Necromancer, habited in\nFatimah's clothing; and, when the wizard stood before the Lady\nBadr al-Budur, he began at first sight to bless her with a string\nof prayers; nor did any one of those present doubt at all but\nthat he was the Devotee herself. The Princess arose and salam'd\nto him then seating him beside her, said, \"O my Lady Fatimah,\n'tis my desire that thou abide with me alway, so might I be\nblessed through thee, and also learn of thee the paths[FN#222] of\nworship and piety and follow thine example making for salvation.\"\nNow all this was a foul deceit of the accursed African and he\ndesigned furthermore to complete his guile, so he continued, \"O\nmy Lady, I am a poor woman and a religious that dwelleth in the\ndesert; and the like of me deserveth not to abide in the palaces\nof the kings.\" But the Princess replied, \"Have no care whatever,\nO my Lady Fatimah; I will set apart for thee an apartment of my\npavilion, that thou mayest worship therein and none shall ever\ncome to trouble thee; also thou shalt avail to worship Allah in\nmy place better than in thy cavern.\" The Maroccan rejoined,\"\nHearkening and obedience, O my lady; I will not oppose thine\norder for that the commands of the children of the kings may not\nbe gainsaid nor renounced. Only I hope of thee that my eating and\ndrinking and sitting may be within my own chamber which shall be\nkept wholly private; nor do I require or desire the delicacies of\ndiet, but do thou favour me by sending thy handmaid every day\nwith a bit of bread and a sup of water;[FN#223] and, when I feel\nfain of food, let me eat by myself in my own room.\" Now the\nAccursed hereby purposed to avert the danger of haply raising his\nface-kerchief at meal-times, when his intent might be baffled by\nhis beard and mustachios discovering him to be a man. The\nPrincess replied, \"O my Lady Fatimah, be of good heart; naught\nshall happen save what thou wishest. But now arise and let me\nshow thee the apartment in the palace which I would prepare for\nthy sojourn with us.\"--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of\nday and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Eighty-ninth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that the Lady Badr al-Budur arose and taking the Necromancer\nwho had disguised himself as the Devotee, ushered him in to the\nplace which she had kindly promised him for a home and said, \"O\nmy Lady Fatimah, here thou shalt dwell with every comfort about\nthee and in all privacy and repose; and the place shall be named\nafter thy name;\" whereupon the Maghrabi acknowledged her kindness\nand prayed for her. Then the Princess showed him the jalousies\nand the jewelled Kiosque with its four and twenty windows[FN#224]\nand said to him, \"What thinkest thou, O my Lady Fatimah, of this\nmarvellous pavilion?\" The Moorman replied, \"By Allah, O my\ndaughter, 'tis indeed passing fine and wondrous exceedingly; nor\ndo I deem that its fellow is to be found in the whole universe;\nbut alas for the lack of one thing which would enhance its beauty\nand decoration !\" The Princess asked her, \"O my Lady Fatimah,\nwhat lacketh it and what be this thing would add to its\nadornment? Tell me thereof, inasmuch as I was wont to believe it\nwholly perfect.\" The Maroccan answered, \"O my lady, all it\nwanteth is that there be hanging from the middle of the dome the\negg of a fowl called the Rukh;[FN#225] and, were this done, the\npavilion would lack its peer all the world over.\" The Princess\nasked, \"What be this bird and where can we find her egg?\" and the\nMaroccan answered, \"O my lady, the Rukh is indeed a giant fowl\nwhich carrieth off camels and elephants in her pounces and flieth\naway with them, such is her stature and strength; also this fowl\nis mostly found in Mount K\u00e1f; and the architect who built this\npavilion is able to bring thee one of her eggs.\" They then left\nsuch talk as it was the hour for the noon day meal and, when the\nhandmaid had spread the table, the Lady Badr al-Budur sent down\nto invite the Accursed African to eat with her. But he accepted\nnot and for a reason he would on no wise consent; nay, he rose\nand retired to the room which the Princess had assigned to him\nand whither the slave-girls carried his dinner. Now when evening\nevened, Alaeddin returned from the chase and met his wife who\nsalam'd to him and he clasped her to his bosom and kissed her.\nPresently, looking at her face he saw thereon a shade of sadness\nand he noted that contrary to her custom, she did not laugh; so\nhe asked her, \"What hath betided thee, O my dearling? tell me,\nhath aught happened to trouble thy thoughts!\" \"Nothing whatever,\"\nanswered she, \"but, O my beloved, I fancied that our pavilion\nlacked naught at all; however, O eyes of me, O Alaeddin, were the\ndome of the upper story hung with an egg of the fowl called Rukh,\nthere would be naught like it in the universe.\" Her husband\nrejoined, \"And for this trifle thou art saddened when 'tis the\neasiest of all matters to me! So cheer thyself; and, whatever\nthou wantest, 'tis enough thou inform me thereof, and I will\nbring it from the abysses of the earth in the quickest time and\nat the earliest hour.\"--And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn\nof day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n       When it was the Five Hundred and Ninetieth Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that Alaeddin after refreshing the spirits of his Princess\nby promising her all she could desire, repaired straight way to\nhis chamber and taking the Lamp[FN#226] rubbed it, when the Marid\nappeared without let or delay saying, \"Ask whatso thou wantest.\"\nSaid the other, \"I desire thee to fetch me an egg of the bird\nRukh and do thou hang it to the dome-crown of this my pavilion.\"\nBut when the Marid heard these words, his face waxed fierce and\nhe shouted with a mighty loud voice and a frightful, and cried,\n\"O denier of kindly deeds, sufficeth it not for thee that I and\nall the Slaves of the Lamp are ever at thy service, but thou must\nalso require me to bring thee our Liege Lady[FN#227] for thy\npleasure, and hang her up at thy pavilion dome for the enjoyment\nof thee and thy wife! Now by Allah, ye deserve, thou and she,\nthat I reduce you to ashes this very moment and scatter you upon\nthe air; but, inasmuch as ye twain be ignorant of this matter,\nunknowing its inner from its outer significance, I will pardon\nyou for indeed ye are but innocents. The offence cometh from that\naccursed Necromancer, brother to the Maghrabi, the Magician, who\nabideth here representing himself to be Fatimah, the Devotee,\nafter assuming her dress and belongings and murthering her in the\ncavern: indeed he came hither seeking to slay thee by way of\nblood-revenge for his brother; and 'tis he who taught thy wife to\nrequire this matter of me.''[FN#228] So saying the Marid\nevanished. But when Alaeddin heard these words, his wits fled his\nhead and his joints trembled at the Marid's terrible shout; but\nhe empowered his purpose and, rising forthright, issued from his\nchamber and went into his wife's. There he affected an ache of\nhead, for that he knew how famous was Fatimah for the art and\nmystery of healing all such pains; and, when the Lady Badr al-\nBudur saw him sitting hand to head and complaining of unease, she\nasked him the cause and he answered, \"I know of none other save\nthat my head acheth exceedingly.\" Hereupon she straightway bade\nsummon Fatimah that the Devotee might impose her hand upon his\nhead;[FN#229] and Alaeddin asked her, \"Who may this Fatimah be?\"\nSo she informed him that it was Fatimah the Devotee to whom she\nhad given a home in the pavilion. Meanwhile the slave-girls had\nfared forth and summoned the Maghrabi, and when the Accursed made\nact of presence, Alaeddin rose up to him and, acting like one who\nknew naught of his purpose, salam'd to him as though he had been\nthe real Fatimah and, kissing the hem of his sleeve, welcomed him\nand entreated him with honour and said, \"O my Lady Fatimah, I\nhope thou wilt bless me with a boon, for well I wot thy practice\nin the healing of pains: I have gotten a mighty ache in my head.\"\nThe Moorman, the Accursed, could hardly believe that he heard\nsuch words, this being all that he desired.--And Shahrazad was\nsurprised by the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.\n\n      When it was the Five Hundred and Ninety-first Night,\n\nQuoth Dunyazad, \"O sister mine, an thou be other than sleepy, do\ntell us some of thy pleasant tales,\" whereupon Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and good will.\"--It hath reached me, O King of the\nAge, that the Maghrabi, the Necromancer, habited as Fatimah the\nDevotee, came up to Alaeddin that he might place hand upon his\nhead and heal his ache; so he imposed one hand and, putting forth\nthe other under his gown, drew a dagger wherewith to slay him.\nBut Alaeddin watched him and, taking patience till he had wholly\nunsheathed the weapon, seized him with a forceful grip; and,\nwrenching the dagger from his grasp plunged it deep into his\nheart. When the Lady Badr al-Budur saw him do on this wise, she\nshrieked and cried out, \"What hath this virtuous and holy woman\ndone that thou hast charged thy neck with the heavy burthen of\nher blood shed wrongfully? Hast thou no fear of Allah that thou\nkillest Fatimah, this saintly woman, whose miracles are far-\nfamed?\" \"No,\" replied Alaeddin \"I have not killed Fatimah. I have\nslain only Fatimah's slayer, he that is the brother of the\nMaghrabi, the Accursed, the Magician, who carried thee off by his\nblack art and transported my pavilion to the Africa-land; and\nthis damnable brother of his came to our city and wrought these\nwiles, murthering Fatimah and assuming her habit, only that he\nmight avenge upon me his brother's blood; and he also 'twas who\ntaught thee to require of me a Rukh's egg, that my death might\nresult from such requirement. But, an thou doubt my speech, come\nforwards and consider the person I have slain.\" Thereupon\nAlaeddin drew aside the Moorman's face-kerchief and the Lady Badr\nal-Budur saw the semblance of a man with a full beard that well\nnigh covered his features. She at once knew the truth and said to\nher husband, \"O my beloved, twice have I cast thee into death-\nrisk!\" but he rejoined, \"No harm in that, O my lady, by the\nblessing of your loving eyes: I accept with all joy all things\nthou bringest me.\" The Princess, hearing these words, hastened to\nfold him in her arms and kissed him saying, \"O my dearling, all\nthis is for my love to thee and I knew naught thereof; but indeed\nI do not deem lightly of thine affection.\" So Alaeddin kissed her\nand strained her to his breast; and the love between them waxed\nbut greater. At that moment the Sultan appeared and they told him\nall that had happened, showing him the corpse of the Maghrabi,\nthe Necromancer, when the King commanded the body to be burned\nand the ashes scattered on air, even as had befallen the Wizard's\nbrother. And Alaeddin abode with his wife, the Lady Badr al-\nBudur, in all pleasure and joyance of life and thenceforward\nescaped every danger; and, after a while, when the Sultan\ndeceased, his son-in-law was seated upon the throne of the\nKingdom; and he commanded and dealt justice to the lieges so that\nall the folk loved him, and he lived with his wife in all solace\nand happiness until there came to him the Destroyer of delights\nand the Severer of societies.[FN#230] Quoth Dunyazad, \"O sister\nmine, how rare is thy tale and delectable!\" and Quoth Shahrazad,\n\"And what is this compared with that I could relate to you after\nthe coming night, an this my lord the King deign leave me on\nlife?\" So Shahryar said to himself, \"Indeed I will not slay her\nuntil she tell me the whole tale.\"\n\n When it was the Five Hundred and Ninety-second Night,[FN#231]\n\nShahrazad began to relate the adventures of\n\n\n\n\n               KHUDADAD[FN#232] AND HIS BROTHERS.\n\n\n\nSaid she, O auspicious King, this my tale relateth to the Kingdom\nof Diy\u00e1r Bakr[FN#233] in whose capital-city of Harr\u00e1n[FN#234]\ndwelt a Sultan of illustrious lineage, a protector of the people,\na lover of his lieges, a friend of mankind and renowned for being\ngifted with every good quality. Now Allah Almighty had bestowed\nupon him all that his heart could desire, save boon of child, for\nthough he had lovely wives within his Harem-door and fair\nconcubines galore, he had been not blessed with a son; wherefor\nhe offered up incessant worship to the Creator. One night there\nappeared to him in a dream a man of comely visage and holy of\nsemblance like unto a prophet, who addressed him, saying, \"O\npuissant King, thy vows are at length heard. Arise to-morrow at\nday-dawn, pray a two-bow prayer and offer up thy petitions; then\nhaste thee to the Chief Gardener of thy palace and require of him\na pomegranate whereof do thou eat as many seeds as seemeth best\nto thee; after which perform another two-bow prayer, and Allah\nwill shower favours and graces upon thy head.\" The King, awaking\nat peep of day, called to mind the vision of the night, and\nreturning thanks to the Almighty, made his orisons and kneeling\ninvoked a benedicite. Then he rose and repaired to the garth, and\nreceiving a pomegranate from the Head-Gardener, counted out and\nate fifty grains thereof; to wit, one for each of his wives.\nAfter this he lay the night in turn with them all and by the\nomnipotence of the Creator all gave in due time signs of\npregnancy, save one Fir\u00fazah[FN#235] hight. So the King conceived\na grudge against her, saying in his soul, \"Allah holdeth this\nwoman vile and accursed and He willeth not that she become the\nmother of a Prince, and on this wise hath the curse of barrenness\nbecome her lot.\" He would have had her done to death but the\nGrand Wazir made intercession for her and suggested to the Sultan\nthat perchance Firuzah might prove with child and withal not show\noutward signal thereof, as is the manner of certain women;\nwherefore to slay her might be to destroy a Prince with the\nmother. Quoth the King, \"So be it! slay her not, but take heed\nthat she abide no longer or at court or in the city, for I cannot\nsupport the sight of her.\" Replied the Minister, \"It shall be\ndone even as thy Highness biddeth: let her be conveyed to the\ncare of thy brother's son, Prince Sam\u00edr.\" The King did according\nto the counsel of his Wazir and despatched his loathed Queen to\nSamaria[FN#236] accompanied by a writ with the following purport,\nto his nephew, \"We forward this lady to thy care: entreat her\nhonourably and, shouldest thou remark tokens of pregnancy in her,\nsee that thou acquaint us therewith without stay or delay.\" So\nFiruzah journeyed to Samaria, and when her time was fulfilled she\ngave birth to a boy babe, and became the mother of a Prince who\nin favour was resplendent as the sheeny day. Hereat the lord of\nSamaria sent message by letter to the Sultan of Harran saying, \"A\nPrince hath been borne by the womb of Firuzah: Allah Almighty\ngive thee permanence of prosperity!\" By these tidings the King\nwas filled with joy; and presently he replied to his cousin,\nPrince Samir, \"Each one of my forty-and-nine spouses hath been\nblessed with issue and it delighteth me beyond bounds that\nFiruzah hath also given me a son. Let him be named\nKhudadad--God's gift--do thou have due care of him and whatsoever\nthou mayest need for his birth-ceremonies shall be counted out to\nthee without regard to cost.\" Accordingly Prince Samir took in\nhand with all pleasure and delight the charge of Prince Khudadad;\nand, as soon as the child reached the age for receiving\ninstruction, he caused him to be taught cavalarice and archery\nand all such arts and sciences which it behoveth the sons of the\nKings to learn, so that he became perfect in all manner\nknowledge. At eighteen years of age he waxed seemly of semblance\nand such were his strength and valiance that none in the whole\nworld could compare with him. Presently, feeling himself gifted\nwith unusual vigour and virile character he addressed one day of\nthe days Firuzah his parent, saying, \"O mother mine, grant me thy\nleave to quit Samaria and fare in quest of fortune, especially of\nsome battle-field where I may prove the force and prowess of me.\nMy sire, the Sultan of Harran, hath many foes, some of whom are\nlusting to wage war with him; and I marvel that at such time he\ndoth not summon me and make me his aid in this mightiest of\nmatters. But seeing that I possess such courage and Allah-given\nstrength it behoveth me not to remain thus idly at home. My\nfather knoweth not of my lustihood, nor forsooth doth he think of\nme at all; nevertheless 'tis suitable that at such a time I\npresent myself before him, and tender my services until my\nbrothers be fit to fight and to front his foes.\" Hereto his\nmother made answer, \"O my dear son, thine absence pleaseth me\nnot, but in truth it becometh thee to help thy father against the\nenemies who are attacking him on all sides, provided that he send\nfor thine aidance.\"--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held\nher peace till\n\n      The end of the Five Hundred and Ninety-third Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Khudadad\nreplied to his mother Firuzah, \"Indeed I am unable to brook\ndelay; moreover such longing have I in heart to look upon the\nSultan, my sire, that an I go not and visit him and kiss his feet\nI shall assuredly die. I will enter his employ as a stranger and\nall unknown to him, nor will I inform him that I am his son; but\nI shall be to him as a foreigner or as one of his hired knaves,\nand with such devotion will I do him suit and service that, when\nhe learneth that I am indeed his child, he may grant me his\nfavour and affection.\" Prince Samir also would not suffer him to\ndepart and forbade him therefrom; but one day of the days the\nPrince suddenly set out from Samaria under pretext that he was\nabout to hunt and chase. He mounted a milk-white steed, whose\nreins and stirrups were of gold and the saddle and housings were\nof azure satin dubbed with jewels and fringed with pendants of\nfresh pearls. His scymitar was hilted with a single diamond, the\nscabbard of chaunders-wood was crested with rubies and emeralds\nand it depended from a gemmed waist-belt; while his bow and\nrichly wrought quiver hung by his side. Thus equipped and\nescorted by his friends and familiars he presently arrived at\nHarran-city after the fairest fashion; and, when occasion offered\nitself, he made act of presence before the King and did his\nobeisance at Darbar. The Sultan, remarking his beauty and\ncomeliness, or haply by reason of an outburst of natural\naffection, was pleased to return his salam; and, graciously\ncalling him to his side, asked of him his name and pedigree,\nwhereto Khudadad answered, \"O my liege, I am the son of an Emir\nof Cairo. A longing for travel hath made me quit my native place\nand wander from clime to clime till at length I have come hither;\nand, hearing that thou hast matters of importance in hand, I am\ndesirous of approving to thee my valiancy.\" The King joyed with\nexceeding joy to hear this stout and doughty speech, and\nforthwith gave him a post of command in his army; and Khudadad by\ncareful supervision of the troops soon won the esteem of his\nofficers by his desire to satisfy them and the hearts of his\nsoldiers by reason of his strength and courage, his goodly nature\nand his kindly disposition. He also brought the host and all its\nequipments and munitions of warfare into such excellent order and\nmethod that the King on inspecting them was delighted and created\nthe stranger Chief Commandant of the forces and made him an\nespecial favourite; while the Wazirs and Emirs, also the Nabobs\nand the Notables, perceiving that he was highly reputed and\nregarded, showed him abundant good will and affection. Presently,\nthe other Princes, who became of no account in the eyes of the\nKing and the lieges, waxed envious of his high degree and\ndignity. But Khudadad ceased not to please the Sultan his sire,\nat all times when they conversed together, by his prudence and\ndiscretion, his wit and wisdom, and gained his regard ever more\nand more; and when the invaders, who had planned a raid on the\nrealm, heard of the discipline of the army and of Khudadad's\nprovisions for materials of war, they abstained from all hostile\nintent. After a while the King committed to Khudadad the custody\nand education of the forty-nine Princes, wholly relying on his\nsagesse and skill; and thus, albeit Khudadad was of age like his\nbrothers, he became their master by reason of his sapience and\ngood sense. Whereupon they hated him but the more; and, when\ntaking counsel one day, quoth one to the other, \"What be this\nthing our sire hath done that he should make a stranger-wight his\ncup-companion and set him to lord it over us? We can do naught\nsave by leave of this our governor, and our condition is past\nbearing; so contrive we to rid ourselves of this foreigner and at\nleast render him vile and contemptible in the eyes of our sire\nthe Sultan.\" Said one, \"Let us gather together and slay him in\nsome lonely spot;\" and said another, \"Not so! to kill him would\nbenefit us naught, for how could we keep the matter hidden from\nthe King? He would become our enemy and Allah only wotteth what\nevil might befal us. Nay, rather let us crave permission of him\nand fare a-hunting and then tarry we in some far-off town; and\nafter a while the King will marvel at our absence, then grief\nwill be sore upon him and at length, waxing displeased and\nsuspicious, he will have this fellow expelled the palace or haply\ndone to death. This is the only sure and safe way of bringing\nabout his destruction.\"--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad\nheld her peace till\n\n      The end of the Five Hundred and Ninety-fourth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the\nforty-and-nine brothers agreed to hold this plan wisest and,\npresently going together to Khudadad, asked leave of him to ride\nabout the country awhile or fare to the chase, promising they\nwould return by set of sun. He fell into the snare and allowed\nthem to go; whereupon they sallied forth a-hunting but did not\ncome back that day or the next. On the third morning the King who\nmissed them asked Khudadad wherefore it was that none of his sons\nwere to be seen; and he answered that three days before they had\ngotten leave from him to go a-hunting and had not returned.\nHereat the father was perplexed with sore perplexity; and, when\nsundry days more had passed by and still the Princes appeared\nnot, the old Sultan was much troubled in mind and hardly\nrestraining his rage summoned Khudadad and in hot wrath\nexclaimed, \"O thou neglectful stranger, what courage and\nover-daring is this of thine that thou didst suffer my sons fare\nto the chase and didst not ride with them! And now 'tis but right\nthat thou set out and search for them and bring them back;\notherwise thou shalt surely die.\" Khudadad, hearing these harsh\nwords, was startled and alarmed; however he got him ready and\nmounted his horse forthwith and left the city in quest of the\nPrinces his brethren, wandering about from country to country,\nlike unto a herd seeking a straying flock of goats. Presently,\nnot finding any trace of them in homestead or on desert-ground,\nhe became sad and sorrowful exceedingly, saying in his soul, \"O\nmy brothers, what hath befallen you and where can ye be dwelling?\nPerchance some mighty foeman hath made you prisoners so that ye\ncannot escape; and I may never return unto Harran till I find\nyou; for this will be a matter of bitter regret and repine to the\nKing.\" So he repented more and more having suffered them to go\nwithout his escort and guidance. At length whilst searching for\nthem from plain to plain and forest to forest he chanced come\nupon a large and spacious prairie in the middlemost whereof rose\na castle of black marble; so he rode on at a foot pace and when\nclose under the walls he espied a lady of passing beauty and\nloveliness who was seated at a window in melancholy plight and\nwith no other ornament than her own charms. Her lovely hair hung\ndown in dishevelled locks; her raiment was tattered and her\nfavour was pale and showed sadness and sorrow. Withal she was\nspeaking under her breath and Khudadad, giving attentive ear,\nheard her say these words, \"O youth, fly this fatal site, else\nthou wilt fall into the hands of the monster who dwelleth here: a\nman-devouring Ethiopian[FN#237] is lord of this palace; and he\nseizeth all whom Fate sendeth to this prairie and locketh them up\nin darksome and narrow cells that he may preserve them for food.\"\nKhudadad exclaimed, \"O my lady, tell me I pray thee who thou art\nand whereabouts was thy home;\" and she answered, \"I am a daughter\nof Cairo and of the noblest thereof. But lately, as I wended my\nway to Baghdad, I alighted upon this plain and met that Habashi,\nwho slew all my servants and carrying me off by force placed me\nin this palace. I no longer cared to live, and a thousand times\nbetter were it for me to die; for that this Abyssinian lusteth to\nenjoy me and albeit to the present time I have escaped the\ncaresses of the impure wretch, to-morrow an I still refuse to\ngratify his desire he will surely ravish me and do me dead. So I\nhave given up all hope of safety; but thou, why hast thou come\nhither to perish? Escape without stay or delay, for he hath gone\nforth in quest of wayfarers and right soon will he return.\nMoreover he can see far and wide and can descry all who traverse\nthis wold.\" Now hardly had the lady spoken these words when the\nAbyssinian drew in sight; and he was as a Gh\u00fal of the Wild, big\nof bulk, and fearsome of favour and figure, and he mounted a\nsturdy Tartar steed, brandishing, as he rode, a weighty blade\nwhich none save he could wield. Prince Khudadad seeing this\nmonstrous semblance was sore amazed and prayed Heaven that he\nmight be victorious over that devil: then unsheathing his sword\nhe stood awaiting the Abyssinian's approach with courage and\nsteadfastness; but the blackamoor when he drew near deemed the\nPrince too slight and puny to fight and was minded to seize him\nalive. Khudadad, seeing how his foe had no intent to combat,\nstruck him with his sword on the knee a stroke so dour that the\nnegro foamed with rage and yelled a yell so loud that the whole\nprairie resounded with the plaint. Thereupon the brigand, fiery\nwith fury, rose straight in his shovel-stirrups and struck\nfiercely at Khudadad with his huge sword and, but for the\nPrince's cunning of fence and the cleverness of his courser, he\nwould have been sliced in twain like unto a cucumber. Though the\nscymitar whistled through the air, the blow was harmless, and in\nan eye-twinkling Khudadad dealt him a second cut and struck off\nhis right hand which fell to the ground with the sword hilt it\ngripped, when the blackamoor losing his balance rolled from the\nsaddle and made earth resound with the fall. Thereupon the Prince\nsprang from his steed and deftly severing the enemy's head from\nhis body threw it aside. Now the lady had been looking down at\nthe lattice rigid in prayer for the gallant youth; and, seeing\nthe Abyssinian slain and the Prince victorious, she was overcome\nwith exceeding joy and cried out to her deliverer, \"Praise be to\nAlmighty Allah, O my lord, who by thy hand hath defeated and\ndestroyed this fiend. Come now to me within the castle, whose\nkeys are with the Abyssinian; so take them and open the door and\ndeliver me.\" Khudadad found a large bunch of keys under the dead\nman's girdle wherewith he opened the portals of the fort and\nentered a large saloon in which was the lady; and, no sooner did\nshe behold him than running to meet him she was about to cast\nherself at his feet and kiss them when Khudadad prevented her.\nShe praised him with highest praise and extolled him for valiancy\nabove all the champions of the world, and he returned the salam\nto her who, when seen near hand seemed endued with more grace and\ncharms than had appeared from afar. So the Prince joyed with\nextreme joy and the twain sat down in pleasant converse.\nPresently, Khudadad heard shrieks and cries and weeping and\nwailing with groans and moans and ever loudening lamentations; so\nhe asked the lady, saying, \"whence are these clamours and from\nwhom come these pitiful complaints?\" And, she pointing to a\nwicket in a hidden corner of the court below, answered, saying,\n\"O my lord, these sounds come therefrom. Many wretches driven by\nDestiny have fallen into the clutches of the Abyssinian Ghul and\nare securely locked up in cells, and each day he was wont to\nroast and eat one of the captives.\" \"'Twill please me vastly,\"\nquoth Khudadad, \"to be the means of their deliverance: come, O my\nlady, and show me where they are imprisoned.\" Thereupon the twain\ndrew near to the place and the Prince forthright tried a key upon\nthe lock of the dungeon but it did not fit; then he made essay of\nanother wherewith they opened the wicket. As they were so doing\nthe report of the captives' moaning and groaning increased yet\nmore and more until Khudadad, touched and troubled at their\nimpatience, asked the cause of it. The lady replied, \"O my lord,\nhearing our footsteps and the rattling of the key in the lock\nthey deem that the cannibal, according to his custom, hath come\nto supply them with food and to secure one of them for his\nevening meal. Each feareth lest his turn for roasting be come, so\nall are affrighted with sore affright and redouble their shouts\nand cries.\"--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her\npeace till\n\n      The end of the Five Hundred and Ninety-fifth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the sounds\nfrom that secret place seemed to issue from under ground or from\nthe depths of a draw-well. But when the Prince opened the dungeon\ndoor, he espied a steep staircase and descending thereby found\nhimself in a deep pit, narrow and darksome, wherein were penned\nmore than an hundred persons with elbows pinioned and members\nchained; nor saw he aught of light save through one bull's-eye.\nSo he cried to them, \"O ye unfortunates, fear ye no more! I have\nslain the Abyssinian; and render ye praise to Allah Almighty who\nhath rid you of your wrong-doer: also I come to strike off your\nfetters and return you to freedom.\" Hearing these glad tidings\nthe prisoners were in raptures of delight and raised a general\ncry of joy and jubilee. Hereupon Khudadad and the lady began to\nloose their hands and feet; and each, as he was released from his\ndurance, helped to unchain his fellows: brief, after a moment of\ntime all were delivered from their bonds and bondage. Then each\nand every kissed Khudadad's feet and gave thanks and prayed for\nhis welfare; and when those whilom prisoners entered the\ncourt-yard whereupon the sun was shining sheen, Khudadad\nrecognised amongst them his brothers, in quest of whom he had so\nlong wandered. He was amazed with exceeding amazement and\nexclaimed, \"Laud be to the Lord, that I have found you one and\nall safe and sound: your father is sorely sad and sorrowful at\nyour absence; and Heaven forfend that this devil hath devoured\nany from amongst you.\" He then counted their number,\nforty-and-nine, and set them apart from the rest; and all in\nexcess of joy fell upon one another's necks and ceased not to\nembrace their saviour. After this the Prince spread a feast for\nthe captives, each and every, whom he had delivered; and, when\nthey had eaten and drunken their full, he restored to them the\ngold and silver, the Turkey carpets and pieces of Chinese silk\nand brocade and other valuables innumerable which the Abyssinian\nhad plundered from the caravans, as also their own personal goods\nand chattels, directing each man to claim his own; and what\nremained he divided equally amongst them. \"But,\" quoth he, \"by\nwhat means can ye convey these bales to your own countries, and\nwhere can ye find beasts of burden in this wild wold?\" Quoth\nthey, \"O our Lord, the Abyssinian robbed us of our camels with\ntheir loads and doubtless they are in the stables of the castle.\"\nHereupon Khudadad fared forth with them to the stables and there\nfound tethered and tied not only the camels but also the\nforty-nine horses of his brothers the princes, and accordingly he\ngave to each one his own animal. There were moreover in the\nstables hundreds of Abyssinian slave-boys who, seeing the\nprisoners released, were certified that their lord the cannibal\nwas slain and fled in dismay to the forest and none thought of\ngiving chase to them. So the merchants loaded their merchandise\nupon the camels' backs and farewelling the Prince set out for\ntheir own countries. Then quoth Khudadad to the lady, \"O thou\nrare in beauty and chastity, whence camest thou when the\nAbyssinian seized thee and whither now wouldst thou wend? Inform\nme thereof that I may restore thee to thy home; haply these\nPrinces, my brethren, sons of the Sultan of Harran, know thine\nabode; and doubtless they will escort thee thither.\" The lady\nturning to Khudadad presently made answer, \"I live far from here\nand my country, the land of Egypt, is over distant for travel.\nBut thou, O valorous Prince, hast delivered mine honour and my\nlife from the hands of the Abyssinian and hast shown me such\nfavour that 'twould ill become me to conceal from thee my\nhistory. I am the daughter of a mighty king; reigning over the\nSa'\u00edd or upper Nile-land; and when a tyrant foeman seized him\nand, reaving him of life as well as of his realm, usurped his\nthrone and seized his kingdom, I fled away to preserve my\nexistence and mine honour.\" Thereupon Khudadad and his brothers\nprayed the lady to recount all that had befallen her and\nreassured her, saying, \"Henceforth thou shalt live in solace and\nluxury: neither toil nor trouble shall betide thee.\" When she saw\nthat there was no help for her but to tell all her tale, she\nbegan in the following words to recount the\n\n\n\n\n          History of the Princess of Daryabar.[FN#238]\n\n\n\nIn an island of the islands standeth a great city called\nDary\u00e1b\u00e1r, wherein dwelt a king of exalted degree. But despite his\nvirtue and his valour he was ever sad and sorrowful having naught\nof offspring, and he offered up without surcease prayers on that\nbehalf. After long years and longsome supplications a half boon\nwas granted to him; to wit, a daughter (myself) was born. My\nfather who grieved sore at first presently rejoiced with joy\nexceeding at the unfortunate ill-fated birth of me; and, when I\ncame of age to learn, he bade me be taught to read and write; and\ncaused me to be instructed in court-ceremonial and royal duties\nand the chronicles of the past, to the intent that I might\nsucceed him as heiress to his throne and his kingship. Now it\nhappened one day that my sire rode out a-hunting and gave chase\nto a wild ass[FN#239] with such hot pursuit that he found himself\nat eventide separated from his suite; so, wearied with the chase,\nhe dismounted from his steed and seating himself by the side of a\nforest-path, he said to himself \"The onager will doubtless seek\ncover in this copse.\" Suddenly he espied a light shining bright\namidst the trees and, thinking that a hamlet might be hard by, he\nwas minded to night there and at day-dawn to determine his\nfurther course. Hereupon he arose and walking towards the light\nhe found that it issued from a lonely hut in the forest; then\npeering into the inside he espied an Abyssinian burly of bulk and\nin semblance like unto a Satan, seated upon a divan. Before him\nwere ranged many capacious jars full of wine and over a fire of\ncharcoal he was roasting a bullock whole and eating the flesh and\never and anon drinking deep draughts from one of the pitchers.\nFurthermore the King sighted in that hut a lady of exquisite\nbeauty and comeliness sitting in a corner direly distressed: her\nhands were fast bound with cords, and at her feet a child of two\nor three years of age lay beweeping his mother's sorry\nplight.--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace\ntill\n\n      The end of the Five Hundred and Ninety-sixth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that seeing the\ndoleful state of these twain, my sire was filled with ruth and\nlonged to fall upon the ogre sword in hand; however, not being\nable to cope with him he restrained his wrath and remained on\nstealthy watch. The giant having drained all the pitchers of wine\nand devoured half of the barbacued bullock presently addressed\nhimself to the lady and said, \"O loveliest of Princesses, how\nlong wilt thou prove thee coy and keep aloof from me? Dost thou\nnot see how desirous I am of winning thy heart and how I am dying\nfor the love of thee? 'Tis therefore only right that thou also\nshouldst return my affection and know me as thine own, when I\nwill become to thee the kindest of mankind.\" \"O thou Ghul of the\nwaste,\" cried the lady, \"what be this whereof thou pratest?\nNever; no, never shalt thou win thy wish of me, however much thou\nmayest lust therefor. Torment me or, an thou wilt, destroy me\ndownright, but for my part I will on no wise yield me to thy\nlusts.\" At these words the infuriated savage roared aloud, \"'Tis\nenough and more than enough: thy hate breedeth hatred in me and\nnow I desire less to have and hold thee than to do thee die.\"\nThen he seized her with one hand, and drawing his sabre with the\nother, would have struck off her head from her body when my\nfather shot at him a shaft so deftly that it pierced his heart\nand came out gleaming at his back and he fell to the ground and\nfound instant admission into Jahannam. Hereupon my sire entered\nthe hut and unbinding the lady's bonds enquired of her who she\nwas and by what means that ogre had brought her thither. Answered\nshe, \"Not far from this site there liveth on the sea-shore a race\nof Saracens, like unto the demons of the desert. Sorely against\nmy will I was wedded to their Prince and the fulsome villain thou\nhast now slain was one of my husband's chief officers. He fell\nmadly in love to me and he longed with excessive longing to get\nme into his power and to carry me off from my home. Accordingly,\none day of the days when my husband was out of the way and I was\nin privacy, he carried me off with this my babe from the palace\nto this wild wood wherein is none save He[FN#240] and where well\nhe wot that all search and labour would be baffled; then, hour\nafter hour he designed guilty designs against me, but by the\nmercy of Almighty Allah I have ever escaped all carnal soil of\nthat foul monster. This evening, in despair of my safety, I was\nrejecting his brutal advances when he attempted to take my life\nand in the attempt he was slain by thy valorous hand. This is\nthen my story which I have told thee.\" My father reassured the\nPrincess, saying, \"O my lady, let thy heart be at ease; at\nday-break I will take thee away from this wilderness and escort\nthee to Daryabar, of which city I am the Sultan; and, shouldst\nthou become fain of that place, then dwell therein until thy\nhusband shall come in quest of thee.\" Quoth the lady, \"O my lord,\nthis plan doth not displease me.\" So with the earliest light next\nmorning my father took mother and child away from that forest and\nset forth homewards when suddenly he fell in with his Sirdars and\nofficers who had been wandering hither and thither during the\nlivelong night in search of him. They rejoiced with great joy on\nseeing the King and marvelled with exceeding marvel at the sight\nof a veiled one with him, admiring much that so love-some a lady\nshould be found dwelling in a wold so wild. Thereupon the King\nrelated to them the tale of the ogre and of the Princess and how\nhe had slain the blackamoor. Presently they set forth on their\nhomeward way; one of the Emirs seating the dame behind him on his\nhorse's crupper while another took charge of the child. They\nreached the royal city, where the King ordered a large and\nsplendid mansion to be built for his guest, the babe also\nreceived a suitable education; and thus the mother passed her\ndays in perfect comfort and happiness. After the lapse of some\nmonths, when no tidings, however fondly expected, came of her\nhusband, she resigned herself to marrying my father whom she had\ncaptivated by her beauty and loveliness and amorous\nliveliness,[FN#241] whereupon he wedded her, and when the\nmarriage-contract was drawn up (as was customary in those days),\nthey sojourned together in one stead. As time went on the lad\ngrew up to be a lusty youth of handsome mien; moreover he became\nperfect in courtly ceremonial and in every art and science that\nbefit Princes. The King and all the Ministers and Emirs highly\napproved of him, and determined that I should be married to him,\nand that he should succeed the sovereign as heir to throne and\nkingship. The youth also was well pleased with such tokens of\nfavour from my father, but chiefly he rejoiced with exceeding joy\nto hear talk of his union with his protector's only daughter. One\nday my sire desired to place my hand in his to the intent that\nthe marriage ceremony should at once take place, but first he\nwould impose upon my suitor certain conditions, whereof one was\nthat he should wed none other but his wife's daughter, that is,\nmyself. This pledge displeased the haughty youth, who forthwith\nrefused his consent thereto, deeming himself by the demand of\nsuch condition a despised and contemptible suitor of villain\nbirth.--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace\ntill\n\n     The end of the Five Hundred and Ninety-seventh Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that, the lady\ncontinued:--On this wise the wedding was deferred, and this delay\nbecame a matter of sore displeasure to the young man, who thought\nin his heart that my father was his foe. Therefore he ever strove\nto lure him into his power till one day in a frenzy of rage he\nslew him and proclaimed himself King of Daryabar. Moreover the\nmurtherer would have entered my chamber to kill me also had not\nthe Wazir, a true and faithful servant of the crown, at the\ntidings of his liege lord's death speedily taken me away, and\nhidden me in the house of a friend where he bade me remain\nconcealed. Two days afterwards, having fitted out a ship, he\nembarked me therein with a Kahram\u00e1nah--an old duenna--and set\nsail for a country whose King was of my father's friends, to the\nintent that he might consign me to his charge, and obtain from\nhim the aid of an army wherewith he might avenge himself upon the\nungrateful and ungracious youth who had proved himself a traitor\nto the salt.[FN#242] But a few days after our weighing anchor a\nfurious storm began to blow making the captain and crew sore\nconfounded and presently the waves beat upon the vessel with such\nexceeding violence that she brake up, and the Wazir and the\nduenna and all who were therein (save myself) were drowned in the\nbillows. But I, albeit well nigh a-swoon, clung to a plank and\nwas shortly after washed ashore by the send of the sea, for Allah\nof His mighty power had preserved me safe and sound from\ndeath-doom by the raging of the ocean, to the end that further\ntroubles might befal me. When I returned to sense and\nconsciousness, I found myself alive on the strand and offered up\ngrateful thanks to Almighty Allah; but not seeing the Wazir or\nany one of the company I knew that they had perished in the\nwaters.--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace\ntill\n\n      The end of the Five Hundred and Ninety-eighth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the\nPrincess of Daryabar continued:--Presently, calling to\nremembrance the murther of my father I cried aloud with an\nexceeding bitter cry and was sore afraid at my lonesome plight,\ninsomuch that I would fain have cast myself again into the sea,\nwhen suddenly the voice of man and tramp of horse-hooves fell\nupon my ears. Then looking about I descried a band of cavaliers\nin the midst of whom was a handsome prince: he was mounted upon a\nsteed of purest Rabite[FN#243] blood and was habited in a\ngold-embroidered surcoat; a girdle studded with diamonds girt his\nloins and on his head was a crown of gold; in fine it was evident\nfrom his garb as from his aspect that he was a born ruler of\nmankind. Thereupon, seeing me all alone on the sea-shore, the\nknights marvelled with exceeding marvel; then the Prince detached\none of his captains to ascertain my history and acquaint him\nthere-with; but albeit the officer plied me with questions I\nanswered him not a word and shed a flood of tears in the deepest\nsilence. So noting the waifage on the sand they thought to\nthemselves, \"Perchance some vessel hath been wrecked upon this\nshore and its planks and timber have been cast upon the land, and\ndoubtless this lady was in that ship and hath been floated ashore\non some plank.\" Whereupon the cavaliers crowded around me and\nimplored me to relate unto them what had befallen me;\nnevertheless I still answered them not a word. Presently the\nPrince himself drew near to me and, much amazed, sent away his\nsuite from about me and addressed me in these words, \"O my lady,\nfear naught of ill from me nor distress thyself by needless\naffright. I would convey thee to my home and under my mother's\ncare; wherefore I am curious to know of thee who thou art. The\nQueen will assuredly befriend thee and keep thee in comfort and\nhappiness.\" And now understanding that his heart was drawn\ntowards me, I told him all that had betided me, and he on hearing\nthe story of my sad destiny became moved with the deepest emotion\nand his eyes brimmed with tears. Then he comforted me and carried\nme with him and committed me to the Queen his mother, who also\nlent kindly ear to my tale of the past, first and last, and\nhearing it she also was greatly grieved, and wearied not day or\nnight in tending me and (as far as in her lay) striving to make\nme happy. Seeing, moreover, that her son was deeply enamoured of\nme and love-distraught she agreed to my becoming his wife, while\nI also consented when I looked upon his handsome and noble face\nand figure and to his proved affection for me and his goodness of\nheart. Accordingly, in due time the marriage was celebrated with\nroyal pomp and circumstance. But what escape is there from Fate?\nOn that very night, the night of the wedding, a King of Zanzibar\nwho dwelt hard by that island, and had erewhile practised against\nthe kingdom, seizing his opportunity, attacked us with a mighty\narmy, and having put many to death, bethought him to take me and\nmy husband alive. But we escaped from his hands and fleeing under\nthe murks of night to the sea-shore found there a fisherman's\nboat, which we entered thanking our stars and launched it and\nfloated far away on the current, unknowing whither Destiny was\ndirecting us. On the third day we espied a vessel making us,\nwhereat we rejoiced with joy excessive, deeming her to be some\nmerchantman coming to our aidance. No sooner had it lain\nalongside, however, than up there sprang five or six\npirates,[FN#244] each brandishing a naked brand in hand, and\nboarding us tied our arms behind us and carried us to their\ncraft. They then tare the veil from my face and forthwith desired\nto possess me, each saying to other, \"I will enjoy this wench.\"\nOn this wise wrangling and jangling ensued till right soon it\nturned to battle and bloodshed, when moment by moment and one by\none the ravishers fell dead until all were slain save a single\npirate, the bravest of the band. Quoth he to me, \"Thou shalt fare\nwith me to Cairo where dwelleth a friend of mine and to him will\nI give thee, for erewhile I promised him that on this voyage I\nwould secure for him a fair woman for handmaid.\" Then seeing my\nhusband, whom the pirates had left in bonds he exclaimed, \"Who\nmay be this hound? Is he to thee a lover or a friend?\" and I made\nanswer, \"He is my wedded husband.\" \"'Tis well,\" cried he: \"in\nvery sooth it behoveth me to release him from the bitter pangs of\njealousy and the sight of thee enfolded in another's fond\nembrace.\" Whereat the ruffian raised aloft the ill-fated Prince,\nbound foot and hand, and cast him into the sea, while I shrieked\naloud and implored his mercy, but all in vain. Seeing the Prince\nstruggling and drowning in the waves I cried out and screamed and\nbuffetted my face and tare my hair and would fain have cast\nmyself into the waters but I could not, for he held me fast and\nlashed me to the mainmast. Then, pursuing our course with\nfavouring winds we soon arrived at a small port-village where he\nbought camels and boy-slaves and journeyed on towards Cairo; but\nwhen several stages of the road were left behind us, the\nAbyssinian who dwelt in this castle suddenly overtook us. From\nafar we deemed him to be a lofty tower, and when near us could\nhardly believe him to be a human being.-- And as the morn began\nto dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n      The end of the Five Hundred and Ninety-ninth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the\nPrincess of Daryabar continued:--At once unsheathing his huge\nsword the Habashi made for the pirate and ordered him to\nsurrender himself prisoner, with me and all his slaves, and with\npinioned elbows to accompany him. Hereat the robber with hot\ncourage and heading his followers rushed fiercely on the\nAbyssinian, and for a long time the fight raged thick and fast,\ntill he and his lay dead upon the field; whereupon the Abyssinian\nled off the camels and carried me and the pirate's corpse to this\ncastle, and devoured the flesh of his foe at his evening meal.\nThen turning to me as I wept with bitter weeping he said, \"Banish\nfrom thy breast this woe and this angry mood; and abide in this\ncastle at perfect ease and in comfort, and solace thyself with my\nembraces. However, since thou appearest at this present to be in\ndire distress, I will excuse thee for to-night, but without fail\nI shall require thee of thyself on the morrow.\" He then led me\ninto a separate chamber and locking fast the gates and doors,\nfell asleep alone in another place. Arising early on the next\nmorning he searched the castle round about, unlocked the wicket\nwhich he closed again and sallied forth, according to his custom,\nin quest of wayfarers. But the caravan escaped him and anon he\nreturned empty-handed when thou didst set upon him and slay him.\"\nOn this wise the Princess of Daryabar related her history to\nPrince Khudadad who was moved with ruth for her: then comforting\nher he said, \"Henceforth fear naught nor be on any wise dismayed.\nThese princes are the sons of the King of Harran; and if it\nplease thee, let them lead thee to his court and stablish thee in\ncomfort and luxury: the King also will guard thee from all evil.\nOr, shouldest thou be loath to fare with them, wilt thou not\nconsent to take for spouse him who hath rescued thee from so\ngreat calamity?\" The Princess of Daryabar consented to wed with\nhim and forthwith the marriage was celebrated with grand display\nin the castle and here they found meats and drinks of sundry\nsorts, and delicious fruits and fine wines wherewith the cannibal\nwould regale himself when a-weary of man's flesh. So Khudadad\nmade ready dishes of every colour and feasted his brothers. Next\nday taking with them such provaunt as was at hand, all set forth\nfor Harran, and at the close of each stage they chose a suitable\nstead for nighting; and, when but one day's journey lay before\nthem, the Princes supped that night off what was left to them of\ntheir viaticum and drained all the wine that remained. But when\nthe drink had mastered their wits, Khudadad thus addressed his\nbrothers, saying, \"Hitherto have I withheld from you the secret\nof my birth, which now I must disclose. Know ye then that I am\nyour brother, for I also am a son of the King of Harran, whom the\nLord of Samaria-land brought up and bade educate; and lastly, my\nmother is the Princess Firuzah.\" Then to the Princess of\nDaryabar, \"Thou didst not recognize my rank and pedigree and, had\nI discovered myself erewhile, haply thou hadst been spared the\nmortification of being wood by a man of vulgar blood. But now\nease thy mind for that thy husband is a Prince.\" Quoth she,\n\"Albeit thou discoveredst to me naught until this time, still my\nheart felt assured that thou wast of noble birth and the son of\nsome potent sovereign.\" The Princes one and all appeared\noutwardly well pleased and offered each and every warm\ncongratulations whilst the wedding was celebrating; but inwardly\nthey were filled with envy and sore annoy at such unwelcome issue\nof events, so much so that when Khudadad retired with the\nPrincess of Daryabar to his tent and slept, those ingrates,\nforgetful of the service rendered to them by their brother in\nthat he had rescued them when prisoners in the hands of the\nman-devouring Abyssinian, remained deep in thought and seeking a\nsafe place took counsel one with other to kill him. Quoth the\nforemost of them, \"O my brethren, our father showed him the\nliveliest affection when he was to us naught save a vagrant and\nunknown, and indeed made him our ruler and our governor; and now,\nhearing of his victory won from the ogre and learning that the\nstranger is his son, will not our sire forthwith appoint this\nbastard his only heir and give him dominion over us so that we\nmust all be forced to fall at his feet and bear his yoke? My rede\nis this that we make an end of him in this very spot.\"\nAccordingly they stole softly into his tent and dealt him from\nevery side strokes with their swords, so that they slashed him in\nevery limb and fondly thought that they had left him dead on the\nbed without their awaking the Princess. Next morning they entered\nthe city of Harran and made their salams to the King, who\ndespaired of sighting them again, so he rejoiced with exceeding\njoy on seeing them restored to him safe and sound and sane, and\nasked why they had tarried from him so long. In reply they\ncarefully concealed from him their being thrown into the dungeon\nby the Ghul of Abyssinia and how Khudadad had rescued them: on\nthe contrary all declared that they had been delayed whilst\na-hunting and a-visiting the adjacent cities and countries. So\nthe Sultan gave full credence to their account and held his\npeace. Such was their case; but as regards Khudadad, when the\nPrincess of Daryabar awoke in the morning she found her\nbridegroom lying drowned in blood gashed and pierced with a score\nof wounds.--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her\npeace till\n\n            The end of the full Six Hundredth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that, the\nPrincess, deeming her bridegroom dead, wept at this sight right\nsore; and, calling to mind his youth and beauty, his valour and\nhis many virtues, she washed his face with her tears and\nexclaimed, \"Well-away and woe is me, O my lover, O Khudadad, do\nthese eyes look upon thee in sudden and violent death? Are these\nthy brothers (the devils!) whom thy courage hath saved, the\ndestroyers of thee? Nay 'tis I am thy murtheress; I who suffered\nthee to ally thy Fate with my hapless destiny, a lot that doometh\nto destruction all who befriend me.\" Then considering the body\nattentively she perceived that breath was slowly coming and going\nthrough his nostrils, and that his limbs were yet warm. So she\nmade fast the tent-door and ran city-wards to seek a surgeon, and\nanon having found a skilful leech, she returned with him, but lo\nand behold! Khudadad was missing. She wist not what had become of\nhim, but thought in her mind that some wild beast had carried him\noff; then she wept bitterly and bemoaned her mishap, so that the\nsurgeon was moved to ruth and with words of comfort and\nconsolation offered her house and service; and lastly he bore her\nto the town and assigned to her a separate dwelling. He also\nappointed two slave-girls to wait upon her, and albeit he knew\nnaught of her condition he was ever in attendance on her with the\nhonour and homage due to the kings. One day, she being somewhat\nless sad of heart, the surgeon, who had now informed himself of\nher condition, asked her, saying, \"O my lady, be pleased to\nacquaint me with thine estate and thy misfortunes, and as far as\nin me lieth I will strive to aid and succour thee.\" And she,\nobserving the leech to be shrewd and trustworthy withal, made\nknown to him her story. Quoth the surgeon, \"An it be thy wish, I\nwould gladly escort thee to thy father-in-law the King of Harran,\nwho is indeed a wise sovereign and a just; and he will rejoice to\nsee thee and will take vengeance on the unnatural Princes, his\nsons, for the blood of thy husband unjustly shed.\" These words\npleased well the Princess; so the surgeon hired two dromedaries\nwhich they mounted and the twain set forth for the city of\nHarran. Alighting that same evening at a caravanserai the leech\nasked what news had come from town; and the Keeper answered, \"The\nKing of Harran had a son passing valiant and accomplished who\nabode with him for some years as a stranger; but lately he was\nlost, nor doth any know of him whether he be dead or alive. The\nPrincess Firuzah his mother hath sent allwheres in search of him,\nyet hath she found nor trace nor tidings of him. His parents and\nindeed all the folk, rich and poor, weep and wail for him and\nalbeit the Sultan hath other forty and nine sons, none of them\ncan compare with him for doughty deeds and skilful craft, nor\nfrom any one of them deriveth he aught of comfort or consolation.\nFull quest and search have been made but hitherto all hath been\nin vain.\" The surgeon thereupon made known these words to the\nPrincess of Daryabar, who was minded to go straightway and\nacquaint the mother of Khudadad with everything that had befallen\nher husband; but the surgeon, after full reflection, said, \"O\nPrincess, shouldst thou fare with this intent, haply ere thou\narrive thither the forty-nine Princes may hear of thy coming; and\nthey, by some means or other, will assuredly do thee die, and thy\nlife will be spent to no purpose. Nay, rather let me go first to\nPrince Khudadad's mother: I will tell her all thy tale and she\ndoubtless will send for thee. Until such time do thou remain\nsecret in this Serai.\" Accordingly the leech rode on leisurely\nfor the city and on the road he met a lady mounted upon a\nshe-mule[FN#245] whose housings were of the richest and finest,\nwhile behind her walked confidential servants, followed by a band\nof horsemen and foot- soldiers and Habashi slaves; and, as she\nrode along, the people formed espalier, standing on either side\nto salute her while she passed. The leech also joined the throng\nand made his obeisance, after which quoth he to a bystander,\nwhich was a Darwaysh, \"Methinks this lady must be a queen?\" \"'Tis\neven so,\" quoth the other, \"she is the consort of our Sultan and\nall the folk honour and esteem her above her sister-wives for\nthat in truth she is the mother of Prince Khudadad and of him\nthou surely hast heard.\" Hereupon the surgeon accompanied the\ncavalcade; and, when the lady dismounted at a cathedral-mosque\nand gave alms of Ashrafis[FN#246] and gold coins to all around\n(for the King had enjoined her that until Khudadad's return she\nshould deal charity to the poor with her own hand, and pray for\nthe youth's being restored to his home in peace and safety), the\nmediciner also mingled with the throng which joined in\nsupplications for their favourite and whispered to a slave\nsaying, \"O my brother, it behoveth me that I make known without\nstay or delay to Queen Firuzah a secret which is with me.\"\nReplied he, \"An it be aught concerning Prince Khudadad 'tis well:\nthe King's wife will surely give ear to thee; but an it be other,\nthou wilt hardly win a hearing, for that she is distraught by the\nabsence of her son and careth not for aught beside.\" The surgeon,\nstill speaking low, made reply, \"My secret concerneth that which\nis on her mind.\" \"If this be so,\" returned the slave, \"do thou\nfollow her train privily till it arrive at the palace gate.\"\nAccordingly, when the Lady Firuzah reached her royal apartments,\nthe man made petition to her, saying, \"A stranger would fain tell\nsomewhat to thee in private;\" and she deigned give permission and\ncommand, exclaiming, \"'Tis well, let him be brought hither.\"\nHereupon the slave presented to her the surgeon whom the Queen\nwith gracious mien bade approach; and he, kissing ground between\nher hands, made his petition in these words: \"I have a long tale\nto tell thy Highness whereat thou shalt greatly marvel.\" Then he\ndescribed to her Khudadad's condition, the villainy of his\nbrothers and his death at their hands and of his corpse having\nbeen carried off by wild beasts. Queen Firuzah hearing of her\nson's murther fell straight- way a-swooning to the ground, and\nthe attendants ran up and, raising her, besprinkled her face with\nrose-water until she recovered sense and consciousness. Then she\ngave orders to the surgeon saying, \"Hie thee straightway to the\nPrincess of Daryabar and convey to her greetings and expressions\nof sympathy both from myself and from his sire;\" and as the leech\ndeparted she called to mind her son and wept with sore weeping.\nBy chance the Sultan, who was passing by that way, seeing Firuzah\nin tears and sobs and breaking out into sore and bitter\nlamentation, asked of her the reason thereof.--And as the morn\nbegan to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n          The end of the Six Hundred and First Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that when her\nhusband enquired of Queen Firuzah why and wherefore she wept and\nwailed, and moaned and groaned, she told him all she had heard\nfrom the leech, and her husband was filled with hot wrath against\nhis sons. So he rose up and went straightway to the\naudience-chamber, where the townsfolk had gathered together to\npetition him and to pray for justice and redress; and they,\nseeing his features working with rage, were all sore afraid.\nPresently the Sultan seated himself on the throne of his kingship\nand gave an order to his Grand Wazir, saying, \"O Wazir Hasan,\ntake with thee a thousand men of the guard which keepeth watch\nand ward over the palace and do thou bring hither the forty-and-\nnine Princes, my unworthy sons, and cast them into the prison\nappointed unto man-slayers and murtherers; and have a heed that\nnone of them escape.\" The Wazir did as he was bidden, and seizing\nthe Princes one and all cast them into gaol with the murtherers\nand other criminals, then reported his action to his liege lord.\nHereat the Sultan dismissed sundry claimants and suppliants,\nsaying, \"For the space of one full-told month henceforth it\nbesitteth me not to sit in the justice-hall. Depart hence, and,\nwhen the thirty days shall have passed away, do ye return hither\nagain.\" After this rising from the throne he took with him the\nWazir Hasan, and entering the apartment of Queen Firuzah, gave\ncommand to the Minister that he bring in all haste and with royal\nstate and dignity from the caravanserai, the Princess of Daryabar\nand the mediciner. The Wazir straightway took horse accompanied\nby the Emirs and soldiers; and, leading a fine white she-mule\nrichly adorned with jewelled trappings from out of the royal\nstables, he rode to the caravanserai wherein abode the Princess\nof Daryabar. Having told her all that the King had done, he\nseated her upon the animal and, mounting the surgeon upon a steed\nof Turcoman[FN#247] blood, all three proceeded with pomp and\ngrandeur to the palace. The shop-keepers and townsfolk ran out to\ngreet the lady as the cavalcade wound its way through the\nstreets; and, when they heard say that she was the wife of Prince\nKhudadad, they rejoiced with exceeding joy for that they should\nnow receive tidings of his whereabouts. As soon as the procession\nreached the palace gates the Princess of Daryabar saw the Sultan,\nwho had come forth to greet her, and she alighted from the mule\nand kissed his feet. The King then raised her by the hand and\nconducted her to the chamber wherein sat Queen Firuzah awaiting\nher visit, and all three fell on one another's necks and wept\nsore and could on no wise control their grief. But whenas their\nsorrow was somewhat assuaged, the Princess of Daryabar said to\nthe King, \"O my lord the Sultan, I would proffer humble petition\nthat full vengeance may fall upon those, one and all, by whom my\nhusband hath been so foully and cruelly murthered.\" Replied the\nKing, \"O my lady, rest assured that I will assuredly put to death\nall those villains in requital for the blood of Khudadad;\"\npresently adding, \"'Tis true that the dead body of my brave son\nhath not been found, still it seemeth but right to me that a tomb\nbe built, a cenotaph whereby his greatness and goodness may be\nheld in everlasting remembrance.\" Thereupon he summoned the Grand\nWazir and bade that a great Mausoleum of white marble be edified\namiddlemost the city and the Minister straightway appointed\nworkmen and made choice of a suitable spot in the very centre of\nthe capital. So there they built a gorgeous cenotaph crowned with\na noble dome under which was sculptured a figure of Khudadad;\nand, when the news of its completion reached the King, he\nappointed a day for ceremonious mourning and perlections of the\nKoran. At the appointed time and term the townsfolk gathered\ntogether to see the funeral procession and the obsequies for the\ndeparted; and the Sultan went in state to the Mausoleum together\nwith all the Wazirs, the Emirs and Lords of the land, and took\nseat upon carpets of black satin purfled with flowers of gold\nwhich were dispread over the marble floor. After a while a bevy\nof Knights rode up, with downcast heads and half-closed eyes; and\ntwice circuiting the dome[FN#248] they halted the third time in\nfront of the door, and cried out aloud, \"O Prince, O son of our\nSultan, could we by the sway of our good swords and the strength\nof our gallant arms restore thee to life, nor heart nor force\nwould fail us in the endeavour; but before the fiat of Almighty\nAllah all must bow the neck.\" Then the horsemen rode away to the\nplace whence they came, followed by one hundred hermits hoar of\nhead and dwellers of the caves who had passed their lives in\nsolitude and abstinence nor ever held converse with man or\nwomankind, neither did they appear in Harran at any time save for\nthe obsequies of the reigning race. In front came one of these\ngreybeards steadying with one hand a huge and ponderous tome\nwhich he bore upon his head. Presently all the holy men thrice\ncompassed the Mausoleum, then standing on the highway the eldest\ncried with a loud voice, \"O Prince, could we by dint of orisons\nand devotions bring thee back to life, these hearts and souls of\nours would be devoted to quickening thee, and on seeing thee\narise once again we would wipe thy feet with our own age-white\nbeards.\" And when they also retired came one hundred maidens of\nwondrous beauty and loveliness, mounted on white barbs whose\nsaddles were richly embroidered and set with jewels: their faces\nwere bare and on their heads they bore golden canisters filled\nwith precious stones, rubies and diamonds. They also rode in\ncircuit round the cenotaph and, halting at the door, the youngest\nand fairest of them, speaking in the name of her sisterhood,\nexclaimed, \"O Prince, could our youth and our charms avail thee\naught, we would present ourselves to thee and become thy\nhandmaids; but alas! thou knowest full well that our beauties are\nhere all in vain nor can our love now warm thy clay.\" Then they\nalso departed in the deepest grief. As soon as they had\ndisappeared the Sultan and all with him rose up and walked thrice\nround the figure that had been set up under the dome; then\nstanding at its feet the father said, \"O my beloved son,\nenlighten these eyes which tears for the stress of separation\nhave thus bedimmed.\" He then wept bitterly and all his Ministers\nand Courtiers and Grandees joined in his mourning and\nlamentations; and, when they had made an end of the obsequies,\nthe Sultan and his suite returned palace-wards and the door of\nthe dome was locked.--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad\nheld her peace till\n\n          The end of the Six Hundred and Second Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Sultan\ncommanded congregational prayers in all the mosques for a full\ntold week and he ceased not to mourn and weep and wail before the\ncenotaph of his son for eight days. And as soon as this term was\npassed he commanded the Grand Wazir that vengeance be meted out\nfor the murther of Prince Khudadad, and that the Princes be\nbrought out from their dungeons and be done to death. The tidings\nwere bruited about the city, and preparations were made for\nexecuting the assassins and crowds of folk collected to gaze upon\nthe scaffold, when suddenly came a report that an enemy whom the\nKing had routed in bygone times was marching upon the city with a\nconquering army. Hereat the Sultan was sore troubled and\nperplexed and the ministers of state said one to other, \"Alas!\nhad Prince Khudadad been on life he would forthwith have put to\nflight the forces of the foe however fierce and fell.\" Natheless\nthe Sovran set out from the city with his suite and host, and eke\nhe made ready for flight to some other land by way of the river\nshould the enemy's force prove victorious. Then the two powers\nmet in deadly combat; and the invader, surrounding the King of\nHarran's many on every side, would have cut him to pieces with\nall his warriors, when behold, an armed force hitherto unseen\nrode athwart the plain at a pace so swift and so sure that the\ntwo hostile Kings gazed upon them in uttermost amazement, nor\nwist any one whence that host came. But when it drew near, the\nhorsemen charged home on the enemies and in the twinkling of an\neye put them to flight; then hotly pursuing felled them with the\nbiting sword and the piercing spear. Seeing this onslaught the\nKing of Harran marvelled greatly and rendering thanks to heaven\nsaid to those around him, \"Learn ye the name of the Captain of\nyonder host, who he may be and whence came he.\" But when all the\nfoemen had fallen upon the field save only a few who escaped\nhither and thither and the hostile sultan who had been taken\nprisoner, the Captain of the friendly forces returned from\npursuit well pleased to greet the King. And, lo and behold! as\nthe twain drew near one to other the Sultan was certified that\nthe Captain was none other than his beloved child, Khudadad,\nwhilome lost and now found. Accordingly, he rejoiced with joy\nunspeakable that his enemy had thus been vanquished and that he\nhad again looked upon his son, Khudadad, who stood before him\nalive and safe and sound. \"O my sire,\" presently exclaimed the\nPrince, \"I am he whom thou deemest to have been slain; but Allah\nAlmighty hath kept me on life that I might this day stand thee in\ngood stead and destroy these thine enemies.\" \"O my beloved son,\"\nreplied the King, \"surely I had despaired and never hoped again\nto see thee with these mine eyes.\" So father and son dismounted\nand fell upon each other's necks and quoth the Sultan, clasping\nthe youth's hand, \"Long since have I known of thy valiant deeds,\nand how thou didst save thine ill-omened brothers from the hands\nof the man-devouring Abyssinian, and of the evil wherewith they\nrequited thee. Go now to thy mother, of whom naught remaineth,\nthrough bitter tears for thee, save skin and bone: be thou the\nfirst to gladden her heart and give her the good tidings of this\nthy victory.\" As they rode along, the Prince enquired of the\nSultan, his sire, how he had heard tell of the Habashi and of the\nrescue of the Princes from the cannibal's clutches. \"Hath one of\nmy brothers,\" added he, \"informed thee of this adventure?\" \"Not\nso, O my son,\" replied the King, \"not they, but the Princess of\nDaryabar told me the miserable tale thereof: she hath dwelt for\nmany days with me and 'twas she who first and foremost demanded\nvengeance for thy blood.\" when Khudadad heard that the Princess\nhis spouse was his father's guest, he rejoiced with exceeding joy\nand cried, \"Suffer me first to see my mother;[FN#249] then will I\ngo to the Princess of Daryabar.\" The King of Harran hereat struck\noff the head of his chief enemy and exposed it publicly\nthroughout the streets of his capital, and all the people exulted\nmightily not only at the victory but also for the return of\nKhudadad safe and sound; and dancing and feasting were in every\nhousehold. Presently Queen Firuzah and the Princess of Daryabar\npresented themselves before the Sultan and offered their\ncongratulations to him, then they went to see Khudadad both hand\nin hand and the three falling on one another's necks wept for\nvery joy.--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace\ntill\n\n          The end of the Six Hundred and Third Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that after this\nthe King and his Queen and daughter-in-law sat long conversing,\nand they marvelled much how Khudadad, albeit he was sorely gashed\nand pierced with the sword, had escaped alive from that wildest\nof wolds, whereupon the Prince at the bidding of his sire told\nhis tale in these words: \"A peasant mounted on a camel chanced to\npass by my pavilion and seeing me sore wounded and weltering in\nmy blood, set me upon his beast and conveyed me to his house;\nthen, choosing some roots of desert-herbs he placed them on the\nhurts so that they kindly healed, and I speedily recovered\nstrength. After returning thanks to my benefactor and giving him\nliberal largesse, I set out for the city of Harran and on the\nroad I saw the forces of the foe in countless numbers marching\nupon thy city. Wherefore I made the matter known to the folk of\nthe townships and villages round about and besought their aid;\nthen collecting a large force I placed myself at the head\nthereof, and arriving in the nick of time destroyed the invading\nhosts.\" Hereupon the Sultan gave thanks to Allah Almighty and\nsaid, \"Let all the Princes who conspired against thy life be put\nto death;\" and sent forthright for the Sworder of his vengeance;\nbut Khudadad made request to his sire and said, \"In good sooth, O\nmy lord the King, they all deserve the doom thou hast ordained,\nyet be not these my brethren and eke thine own flesh and blood? I\nhave freely forgiven them their offence against me and I humbly\npray thy pardon also, that thou grant them their lives, for that\nblood ever calleth unto blood.\" The Sultan at length consented\nand forgave their offence. Then, summoning all the Ministers, he\ndeclared Khudadad his heir and successor, in presence of the\nPrinces whom he bade bring from the prison house. Khudadad caused\ntheir chains and fetters to be stricken off and embraced them one\nby one, showing them the same fondness and affection as he had\nshown to them in the castle of the cannibal Habashi. All the folk\non hearing of this noble conduct of Prince Khudadad raised shouts\nof applause and loved him yet more than before. The surgeon who\nhad done such good service to the Princess of Daryabar received a\nrobe of honour and much wealth; and on this wise that which began\nwith mishap had issue in all happiness. When Queen Shahrazad\nended this story she said to Shahryar, \"O my lord, thou art\ndoubtless astonished to find that the Caliph Har\u00fan al-Rashid\nchanged his wrath against Gh\u00e1nim[FN#250] and his mother and\nsister to feelings of favour and affection, but I am assured that\nthou wilt be the more surprised on hearing the story of the\ncurious adventures of that same Caliph with the blind man, B\u00e1b\u00e1\nAbdullah.\" Quoth Dunyazad, as was her way, to her sister\nShahrazad, \"O sister mine, what a rare and delectable tale hast\nthou told and now prithee favour us with another.\" She replied,\n\"It is well nigh dawn but, if my life be spared, I will tell thee\nas the morrow morrows a strange and wonderful history of the\nCaliph Harun al-Rashid.\"[FN#251]--And as the morn began to dawn\nShahrazad held her peace till\n\n          The end of the Six Hundred and Fourth Night,\n\nWhen she began to relate the History of\n\n\n\n\n\n                 THE CALIPH'S NIGHT ADVENTURE.\n\n\n\nI have heard, O auspicious King, that the Caliph Harun al-Rashid\nwas one night wakeful exceedingly and when he rose in the morning\nrestlessness gat hold of him. Wherefore all about him were\ntroubled for that \"Folk aye follow Prince's fashion;\" they\nrejoice exceedingly with his joy and are sorrowful with his\nsorrows albeit they know not the cause why they are so affected.\nPresently the Commander of the Faithful sent for Masr\u00far the\nEunuch, and when he came to him cried, \"Fetch me my Wazir,\nJa'afar the Barmaki, without stay or delay.\" Accordingly, he went\nout and returned with the Minister who, finding him alone, which\nwas indeed rare, and seeing as he drew near that he was in a\nmelancholic humour, never even raising his eyes, stopped till his\nlord would vouchsafe to look upon him. At last the Prince of True\nBelievers cast his glance upon Ja'afar, but forthright turned\naway his head and sat motionless as before. The Wazir descrying\nnaught in the Caliph's aspect that concerned him personally,\nstrengthened his purpose and bespake him on this wise, \"O\nCommander of the Faithful, wilt thine Highness deign suffer me to\nask whence cometh this sadness?\" and the Caliph answered with a\nclearer brow, \"Verily, O Wazir, these moods have of late become\ntroublesome to me, nor are they to be moved save by hearing\nstrange tales and verses; and, if thou come not hither on a\npressing affair, thou wilt gladden me by relating somewhat to\ndispel my sadness.\" Replied the Wazir, \"O Commander of the\nFaithful, my office compelleth me to stand on thy service, and I\nwould fain remind thee that this is the day appointed for\ninforming thyself of the good governance of thy capital and its\nenvirons, and this matter shall, Inshallah, divert thy mind and\ndispel its gloom.\" The Caliph answered, \"Thou dost well to remind\nme, for that I had wholly forgotten it; so fare forth and change\nthy vestments while I do the same with mine.\" Presently the twain\ndonned habits of stranger merchants and issued out by a private\npostern of the palace-garden, which led them into the fields.\nAfter they had skirted the city, they reached the Euphrates' bank\nat some distance from the gate opening on that side, without\nhaving observed aught of disorder; then they crossed the river in\nthe first ferry-boat they found, and, making a second round on\nthe further side, they passed over the bridge that joined the two\nhalves of Baghdad-town. At the bridge-foot they met with a blind\nold man who asked alms of them; and the Caliph turned about and\ncrossed his palm with a diner, whereupon the beggar caught hold\nof his hand, and held him fast, saying, \"O beneficent man, whoso\nthou ever may be, whom Allah hath inspired to bestow an alms upon\nme, refuse not the favour I crave of thee, which is, to strike me\na buffet upon the ear, for that I deserve such punishment and a\ngreater still.\" After these words he quitted his hold of the\nCaliph's hand that it might smite him, yet for fear lest the\nstranger pass on without so doing he grasped him fast by his long\nrobe. And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n          The end of the Six Hundred and Fifth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Caliph,\nsurprised by the blind man's words and deeds said, \"I may not\ngrant thy request nor will I minish the merit of my charity, by\ntreating thee as thou wouldst have me entreat thee.\" Saying these\nwords, he strove to get away from the blind man, but he who after\nhis long experience expected this refusal of his benefactor, did\nhis utmost to keep hold of him, and cried, \"O my lord, forgive my\naudacity and my persistency; and I implore thee either give me a\ncuff on the ear, or take back thine alms, for I may not receive\nit save on that condition, without falsing a solemn oath I have\nsworn before the face of Allah; and, if thou knew the reason,\nthou wouldst accord with me that the penalty is light indeed.\"\nThen the Caliph not caring to be delayed any longer, yielded to\nthe blind man's importunity, and gave him a slight cuff:\nwhereupon he loosed him forthright and thanked him and blessed\nhim. When the Caliph and his Wazir, had walked some way from the\nblind man, the former exclaimed, \"This blind beggar must\nassuredly have some right good cause for behaving himself in such\nmanner to all who give him alms, and I would fain know it. Do\nthou return to him and tell him who I am, and bid him fail not to\nappear at my palace about mid-afternoon prayer time that I may\nconverse with him, and hear whatso he hath to say.\" Hereupon\nJa'afar went back and bestowed alms on the blind man giving him\nanother cuff on the ear and apprised him of the Caliph's command,\nand returned forthright to his lord. Presently, when the twain\nreached the town, they found in a square a vast crowd of folk\ngazing at a handsome youth and a well shaped, who was mounted on\na mare which he rode at fullest speed round the open space,\nspurring and whipping the beast so cruelly that she was covered\nwith sweat and blood. Seeing this the Caliph, amazed at the\nyouth's brutality, stopped to ask the by-standers an they knew\nwhy he tortured and tormented the mare on such wise; but he could\nlearn naught save that for some while past, every day at the same\ntime, he had entreated her after the same fashion. Hereat as they\nwalked along, the Caliph bid his Wazir especially notice the\nplace and order the young man to come without failing on the next\nday, at the hour appointed for the blind man. But ere the Caliph\nreached his palace, he saw in a street, which he had not passed\nthrough for many months, a newly built mansion, which seemed to\nhim the palace of some great lord of the land. He asked the\nWazir, an he knew its owner; and Ja'afar answered he did not but\nwould make inquiry. So he consulted a neighbour who told him that\nthe house owner was one Khw\u00e1jah Hasan surnamed Al-Habb\u00e1l from his\nhandicraft, rope-making; that he himself had seen the man at work\nin the days of his poverty, that he knew not how Fate and Fortune\nhad befriended him, yet that the same Khwajah had gotten such\nexceeding wealth that he had been enabled to pay honourably and\nsumptuously all the expenses he had incurred when building his\npalace. Then the Wazir, returned to the Caliph, and gave him a\nfull account of whatso he had heard, whereat cried the Prince of\nTrue Believers, \"I must see this Khwajah Hasan al-Habbal: do thou\ntherefore, O Wazir, go and tell him to come to my palace, at the\nsame hour thou hast appointed for the other twain.\" The Minister\ndid his lord's bidding and the next day, after mid-afternoon\nprayers, the Caliph retired to his own apartment and Ja'afar\nintroduced the three persons whereof we have been speaking and\npresented them to the Caliph. All prostrated themselves at his\nfeet and when they rose up, the Commander of the Faithful asked\nhis name of the blind man, who answered he was hight Baba\nAbdullah. \"O Servant of Allah,\" cried the Caliph, \"thy manner of\nasking alms yesterday seemed so strange to me that, had it not\nbeen for certain considerations I should not have granted thy\npetition; nay, I would have prevented thy giving further offence\nto the folk. And now I have bidden thee hither that I may know\nfrom thyself what impelled thee to swear that rash oath whereof\nthou toldest me, that I may better judge whether thou have done\nwell or ill, and if I should suffer thee to persist in a practice\nwhich meseemeth must set so pernicious an example. Tell me openly\nhow such mad thought entered into thy head, and conceal not\naught, for I will know the truth and the full truth.\"--And as the\nmorn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n          The end of the Six Hundred and Sixth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Baba\nAbdullah terrified by these words, cast himself a second time at\nthe Caliph's feet with his face prone to the ground, and when he\nrose again, said, \"O Commander of the Faithful, I crave pardon of\nthy Highness for my audacity, in that I dared require, and well\nnigh compelled thee to do a thing which verily seemeth contrary\nto sound sense. I acknowledge mine offence; but as I knew not thy\nHighness at that time, I implore thy clemency, and I pray thou\nwilt consider my ignorance of thine exalted degree. And now as to\nthe extravagance of my action, I readily admit that it must be\nstrange to the sons of Adam; but in the eye of Allah 'tis but a\nslight penance wherewith I have charged myself for an enormous\ncrime of which I am guilty, and wherefor, an all the people in\nthe world were each and every to give me a cuff on the ear\n'twould not be sufficient atonement. Thy Highness shall judge of\nit thyself, when I, in telling my tale according to thy\ncommandment, will inform thee of what was my offence.\" And here\nhe began to relate\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of the Blind Man, Baba Abdullah.[FN#252]\n\n\n\nO my lord the Caliph, I, the humblest of thy slaves, was born in\nBaghdad, where my father and mother, presently dying within a few\ndays of each other, left me a fortune large enough to last me\nthroughout my lifetime. But I knew not its value and soon I had\nsquandered it in luxury and loose living and I cared naught for\nthrift or for increasing my store. But when little was left to me\nof my substance, I repented of my evil courses and toiled and\nlaboured hard by day and night to increase my remaining stock of\nmoney. It is truly said, \"After waste cometh knowledge of worth.\"\nThus little by little I got together fourscore camels, which I\nlet on hire to merchants, and thus I made goodly gain each time I\nfound occasion: moreover I was wont to engage myself together\nwith my beasts and on this wise I journeyed over all the\ndominions and domains of thy Highness. Brief, I hoped ere long to\nreap an abundant crop of gold by the hiring out of my baggage\nanimals.--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace\ntill\n\n         The end of the Six Hundred and Seventh Night.\n\nThen said she: I have heard, O auspicious King, that Baba\nAbdullah continued his tale in these words: Once I had carried\nmerchants' stuffs to Bassorah for shipping India-wards and I was\nreturning to Baghdad with my beasts unladen. Now as I fared\nhomewards I chanced pass across a plain of excellent pasturage\nlying fallow and far from any village, and there unsaddled the\ncamels which I hobbled and tethered together that they might crop\nthe luxuriant herbs and thorns and yet not fare astray. Presently\nappeared a Darwaysh who was travelling afoot for Bassorah, and he\ntook seat beside me to enjoy ease after unease; whereat I asked\nhim whence he wayfared and whither he was wending. He also asked\nme the same question and when we had told each to other our own\ntales, we produced our provisions and brake our fast together,\ntalking of various matters as we ate. Quoth the Darwaysh, \"I know\na spot hard by which enholdeth a hoard and its wealth is so\nwonder-great that shouldst thou load upon thy fourscore camels\nthe heaviest burthens of golden coins and costly gems from that\ntreasure there will appear no minishing thereof.\" Hearing these\nwords I rejoiced with exceeding joy and gathering from his mien\nand demeanour that he did not deceive me, I arose forthright and\nfalling upon his neck, exclaimed, \"O Hallow of Allah, who caress\nnaught for this world's goods and hast renounced all mundane\nlusts and luxuries, assuredly thou hast full knowledge of this\ntreasure, for naught remaineth hidden from holy men as thou art.\nI pray thee tell me where it may be found that I may load my\nfourscore beasts with bales of Ashrafis and jewels: I wot full\nwell that thou hast no greed for the wealth of this world, but\ntake, I pray thee, one of these my fourscore camels as recompense\nand reward for the favour.\" Thus spake I with my tongue but in my\nheart I sorely grieved to think that I must part with a single\ncamel-load of coins and gems; withal I reflected that the other\nthree-score and nineteen camel-loads would contain riches to my\nheart's content. Accordingly, as I wavered in mind, at one moment\nconsenting and at the next instant repenting, the Darwaysh noting\nmy greed and covetise and avarice, replied, \"Not so, O my\nbrother: one camel doth not suffice me that I should shew thee\nall this hoard. On a single condition only will I tell thee of\nthe place; to wit, that we twain lead the animals thither and\nlade them with the treasure, then shalt thou give me one half\nthereof and take the other half to thyself. With forty camels'\nload of costly ores and minerals forsure thou canst buy thousands\nmore of camels.\" Then, seeing that refusal was impossible, I\ncried \"So be it! I agree to thy proposal and I will do as thou\ndesires\";\" for in my heart I had conned the matter over and well\nI wist that forty camel-loads of gold and gems would suffice me\nand many generations of my descendants; and I feared lest an I\ngain say him I should repent for ever and ever having let so\ngreat a treasure slip out of hand. Accordingly, giving full\nconsent to all be said, I got together every one of my beasts and\nset me a-wayfaring along with the Fak\u00edr.[FN#253] After travelling\nover some short distance we came upon a gorge between two craggy\nmountain-walls towering high in crescent form and the pass was\nexceeding narrow so that the animals were forced to pace in\nsingle file, but further on it flared out and we could thread it\nwithout difficulty into the broad Wady below. No human being was\nanywhere to be seen or heard in this wild land, so we were\nundisturbed and easy in our minds nor feared aught. Then quoth\nthe Darwaysh, \"Leave here the camels and come with me.\"--And as\nthe morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n          The end of the Six Hundred and Eighth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the blind\nman Baba Abdullah pursued his tale on this wise:--I did as the\nDarwaysh had bidden me; and, nakhing[FN#254] all the camels, I\nfollowed in wake of him. After walking a short way from the\nhalting-place he produced a flint and steel and struck fire\ntherewith and lit some sticks he had gotten together; then,\nthrowing a handful of strong-smelling incense upon the flames, he\nmuttered words of incantation which I could by no means\nunderstand. At once a cloud of smoke arose, and spireing upwards\nveiled the mountains; and presently, the vapour clearing away, we\nsaw a huge rock with pathway leading to its perpendicular face.\nHere the precipice showed an open door, wherethrough appeared in\nthe bowels of the mountain a splendid palace, the workmanship of\nthe Jinns, for no man had power to build aught like it. In due\ntime, after sore toil, we entered therein and found an endless\ntreasure, ranged in mounds with the utmost ordinance and\nregularity. Seeing a heap of Ashrafis I pounced upon it as a\nvulture swoopeth upon her quarry, the carrion, and fell to\nfilling the sacks with golden coin to my heart's content. The\nbags were big, but I was constrained to stuff them only in\nproportion to the strength of my beasts. The Darwaysh, too,\nbusied himself in like manner, but he charged his sacks with gems\nand jewels only, counselling me the while to do as he did. So I\ncast aside the ducats and filled my bags with naught save the\nmost precious of the stonery. When we had wrought our best, we\nset the well-stuffed sacks upon the camels' backs and we made\nready to depart; but, before we left the treasure-house wherein\nstood ranged thousands of golden vessels, exquisite in shape and\nworkmanship, the Darwaysh went into a hidden chamber and brought\nfrom out a silvern casket a little golden box full of some\nunguent, which he showed to me, and then he placed it in his\npocket. Presently, he again threw incense upon the fire and\nrecited his incantations and conjurations, whereat the door\nclosed and the rock became as before. We then divided the camels,\nhe taking one half and I the other; and, passing through the\nstrait and gloomy gorge in single file, we came out upon the open\nplain. Here our way parted, he wending in the direction of\nBassorah and I Baghdad-wards; and when about to leave him I\nshowered thanks upon the Darwaysh who had obtained me all this\nwealth and riches worth a thousand thousand of gold coins; and\nfarewelled him with deep emotions of gratitude; after which we\nembraced and wended our several ways. But hardly had I bidden\nadieu to the Fakir and had gone some little distance from him\nwith my file of camels than the Shaytan tempted me with greed of\ngain so that I said to myself, \"The Darwaysh is alone in the\nworld, without friends or kinsman, and is wholly estranged from\nmatters mundane. What will these camel-loads of filthy lucre\nadvantage him? Moreover, engrossed by the care of the camels, not\nto speak of the deceitfulness of riches, he may neglect his\nprayer and worship: therefore it behoveth me to take back from\nhim some few of my beasts.\" With this resolve I made the camels\nhalt and tying up their forelegs ran back after the holy man and\ncalled out his name. He heard my loud shouts and awaited me\nforthright; and, as soon as I approached him I said, \"When I had\nquitted thee a thought came into my mind; to wit, that thou art a\nrecluse who keepest thyself aloof from earthly things, pure in\nheart and busied only with orison and devotion Now care of all\nthese camels will cause thee only toil and moil and trouble and\nwaste of precious time: 'twere better then to give them back and\nnot run the risk of these discomforts and dangers. The Darwaysh\nreplied, \"O my son, thou speakest sooth. The tending of all these\nanimals will bring me naught save ache of head, so do thou take\nof them as many as thou listest. I thought not of the burthen and\nposher till thou drewest my attention thereto; but now I am\nforewarned thereof; so may Almighty Allah keep thee in His holy\nkeeping!\" Accordingly, I took ten camels of him and was about to\ngang my gait when suddenly it struck me, \"This Fakir was\nunconcerned at giving up ten camels, so 'twere better I ask more\nof him.\" Thereupon I drew nearer to him and said, \"Thou canst\nhardly manage thirty camels; do give me, I pray thee, other ten.\"\nSaid he, \"O my son, do whatso thou wishest! Take thee other ten\ncamels; twenty will suffice me.\" I did his bidding and driving\noff the twenty added them to my forty. Then the spirit of\nconcupiscence possessed me, and I bethought me more and more to\nget yet other ten camels from his share; so I retraced my steps\nfor the third time and asked him for another ten, and of these,\nas also the remaining ten, I wheedled him. The Darwaysh gladly\ngave up the last of his camels, and, shaking out his\nskirts,[FN#255] made ready to depart; but still my accursed greed\nstuck to me. Albeit I had got the fourscore beasts laden with\nAshrafis and jewels, and I might have gone home happy and\ncontent, with wealth for fourscore generations, Satan tempted me\nstill more, and urged me also to take the box of ointment, which\nI supposed to contain something more precious than rubies.--And\nas the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n          The end of the Six Hundred and Ninth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Baba\nAbdullah continued his tale in these words:--So when I had again\nfarewelled and embraced him I paused awhile and said, \"What wilt\nthou do with the little box of salve thou hast taken to thy\nportion? I pray thee give me that also.\" The Fakir would by no\nmeans part with it, whereupon I lusted the more to possess it,\nand resolved in my mind that, should the holy man give it up of\nhis free will, then well and good, but if not I would force it\nfrom him. Seeing my intent he drew the box from out his breast-\npocket[FN#256] and handed it to me saying, \"O my son, an thou\nwouldst have this box of ointment, then freely do I give it to\nthee; but first it behoveth thee to learn the virtue of the\nunguent it containeth.\" Hearing these words I said, \"Forasmuch as\nthou hast shown me all this favour, I beseech thee tell me of\nthis ointment and what of properties it possesseth.\" Quoth he,\n\"The wonders of this ointment are passing strange and rare. An\nthou close thy left eye and rub upon the lid the smallest bit of\nthe salve then all the treasures of the world now concealed from\nthy gaze will come to sight; but an thou rub aught thereof upon\nthy right eye thou shalt straightway become stone blind of both.\"\nThereat I bethought me of putting this wondrous unguent to the\ntest and placing in his hand the box I said, \"I see thou\nunderstandest this matter right well; so now I pray thee apply\nsomewhat of the ointment with thine own hand to my left eyelid.\"\nThe Darwaysh thereupon closed my left eye and with his finger\nrubbed a little of the unguent over the lid; and when I opened it\nand looked around I saw the hidden hoards of the earth in\ncountless quantities even as the Fakir had told me I should see\nthem. Then closing my right eyelid, I bade him apply some of the\nsalve to that eye also. Said he, \"O my son, I have forewarned\nthee that if I rub it upon thy right eyelid thou shalt become\nstone blind of both. Put far from thee this foolish thought: why\nshouldst thou bring this evil to no purpose on thyself?\" He spake\nsooth indeed, but by reason of my accursed ill-fate I would not\nheed his words and considered in my mind, \"If applying the salve\nto the left eyelid hath produced such effect, assuredly far more\nwondrous still shall be the result when rubbed on the right eye.\nThis fellow doth play me false and keepeth back from me the truth\nof the matter.\" When I had thus determined in my mind I laughed\nand said to the holy man, \"Thou art deceiving me to the intent\nthat I should not advantage myself by the secret, for that\nrubbing the unguent upon the right eyelid hath some greater\nvirtue than applying it to the left eye, and thou wouldst\nwithhold the matter from me. It can never be that the same\nointment hath qualities so contrary and virtues so diverse.\"\nReplied the other, \"Allah Almighty is my witness that the marvels\nof the ointment be none other save these whereof I bespake thee;\nO dear my friend, have faith in me, for naught hath been told\nthee save what is sober sooth.\" Still would I not believe his\nwords, thinking that he dissembled with me and kept secret from\nme the main virtue of the unguent. Wherefore filled with this\nfoolish thought I pressed him sore and begged that he rub the\nointment upon my right eyelid; but he still refused and said,\n\"Thou seest how much of favour I have shown to thee: wherefore\nshould I now do thee so dire an evil? Know for a surety that it\nwould bring thee lifelong grief and misery; and I beseech thee,\nby Allah the Almighty, abandon this thy purpose and believe my\nwords.\" But the more he refused so much the more did I persist;\nand in fine I made oath and sware by Allah, saying, \"O Darwaysh,\nwhat things soever I have asked of thee thou gayest freely unto\nme and now remaineth only this request for me to make. Allah upon\nthee, gainsay me not and grant me this last of thy boons: and\nwhatever shall betide me I will not hold thee responsible\ntherefor. Let Destiny decide for good or for evil.\" When the holy\nman saw that his denial was of no avail and that I irked him with\nexceeding persistence, he put the smallest bit of ointment on my\nright lid and, as I opened wide my eyes, lo and behold! both were\nstone-blind: naught could I see for the black darkness before\nthem and ever since that day have I been sightless and helpless\nas thou foundest me. When I knew that I was blinded, I exclaimed,\n\"O Darwaysh of ill-omen, what thou didst fore tell hath come to\npass;\" and I fell to cursing him and saying \"O would to Heaven\nthou hadst never brought me to the hoard or hadst given me such\nwealth. What now avail me all this gold and jewels? Take back thy\nforty camels and make me whole again.\" Replied he, \"What evil\nhave I done to thee? I showed thee favours more than any man hath\never dealt to another. Thou wouldst not heed my rede, but didst\nharden thy heart and lustedst to obtain this wealth and to pry\ninto the hidden treasures of the earth. Thou wouldst not be\ncontent with what thou hadst and thou didst misdoubt my words\nthinking that I would play thee false. Thy case is beyond all\nhope, for never more wilt thou regain thy sight; no, never. Then\nsaid I with tears and lamentations, \"O Fakir, take back thy\nfourscore camels laden with gold and precious stones and wend thy\nway: I absolve thee from all blame, natheless I beseech thee by\nAllah Almighty to restore my sight an thou art able.\" He answered\nnot a word, but leaving me in miserable plight presently took the\nload to Bassorah, driving before him the fourscore camels laden\nwith wealth. I cried aloud and besought him to lead me with him\naway from the life destroying wilderness, or to put me on the\npath of some caravan, but he regarded not my cries and abandoned\nme there.--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace\ntill\n\n          The end of the Six Hundred and Tenth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Baba\nAbdullah the blind man resumed his story, saying:--So when the\nDarwaysh departed from me, I had well nigh died of grief and\nwrath at the loss of my sight and of my riches, and from the\npangs of thirst[FN#257] and hunger. Next day by good fortune a\ncaravan from Bassorah passed that way; and, seeing me in such a\ngrievous condition, the merchants had compassion on me and made\nme travel with them to Baghdad. Naught could I do save beg my\nbread in order to keep myself alive; so I became a mendicant and\nmade this vow to Allah Almighty that, as a punishment for this my\nunlucky greed and cursed covetise, I would require a cuff upon my\near from everyone who might take pity on my case and give an\nalms. On this wise it was that yesterday I pursued thee with such\npertinacity.--When the blind man made an end of his story the\nCaliph said, \"O Baba Abdullah! thine offence was grievous; may\nAllah have mercy on thee therefor. It now remaineth to thee to\ntell thy case to devotees and anchorites that they may offer up\ntheir potent prayers in thy behalf. Take no thought for thy daily\nwants: I have determined that for thy living thou shalt have a\ndole of four dirhams a day from my royal treasury according to\nthy need as long as thou mayest live. But see that thou go no\nmore to ask for alms about my city.\" So Baba Abdullah returned\nthanks to the Prince of True Believers, saying, \"I will do\naccording to thy bidding.\" Now when the Caliph Harun al-Rashid\nhad heard the story of Baba Abdullah and the Darwaysh, he turned\nto and addressed the young man whom he had seen riding at fullest\nspeed upon the mare and savagely lashing and ill-treating her.\n\"What is thy name?\" quoth he, and quoth the youth, bowing his\nbrow groundwards, \"My name, O Commander of the Faithful, is S\u00edd\u00ed\nNu'um\u00e1n.\"[FN#258] Then said the Caliph, \"Hearken now, O Sidi\nNu'uman! Ofttimes have I watched the horsemen exercise their\nhorses, and I myself have often done likewise, but never saw I\nany who rode so mercilessly as thou didst ride thy mare, for thou\ndidst ply both whip and shovel-iron in cruellest fashion. The\nfolk all stood to gaze with wonderment, but chiefly I, who was\nconstrained against my wish to stop and ask the cause of the\nbystanders. None, however, could make clear the matter, and all\nmen said that thou art wont each day to ride the mare in this\nmost brutal fashion, whereat my mind marvelled all the more. I\nnow would ask of thee the cause of this thy ruthless savagery,\nand see that thou tell me every whit and leave not aught unsaid.\"\nSidi Nu'uman, hearing the order of the Commander of the Faithful,\nbecame aware he was fully bent upon hearing the whole matter and\nwould on no wise suffer him to depart until all was explained. So\nthe colour of his countenance changed and he stood speechless\nlike a statue through fear and trepidation; whereat said the\nPrince of True Believers, \"O Sidi Nu'uman, fear naught but tell\nme all thy tale. Regard me in the light of one of thy friends and\nspeak without reserve, and explain to me the matter fully as thou\nwouldst do hadst thou been speaking to thy familiars. Moreover,\nan thou art afraid of any matter which thou shalt confide to me\nand if thou dread my indignation, I grant thee immunity and a\nfree pardon.\" At these comforting words of the Caliph, Sidi\nNu'uman took courage, and with clasped hands replied, \"I trust I\nhave not in this matter done aught contrary to thy Highness's law\nand custom, and therefore will I willingly obey thy bidding and\nrelate to thee all my tale. If I have offended in anything then\nam I worthy of thy punishment. 'Tis true that I have daily\nexercised the mare and ridden her at speed around the hippodrome\nas thou sawest me do; and I lashed and gored her with all my\nmight. Thou hadst compassion on the mare and didst deem me cruel\nhearted to entreat her thus, but when thou shalt have heard all\nmy adventure thou wilt admit, Inshallah--God willing--that this\nbe only a trifling penalty for her offence, and that not she but\nI deserve thy pity and pardon! With thy permission I will now\nbegin my story.\"\u02daAnd as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her\npeace till\n\n         The end of The Six Hundred and Eleventh Night.\n\nThen said she: I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Caliph\nHarun al-Rashid accorded the youth permission to speak and that\nthe rider of the mare began in these words the\n\n\n\n\n\nHistory of Sidi Nu'uman.\n\n\n\nO Lord of beneficence and benevolence, my parents were possessed\nof wealth and riches sufficient to provide their son when they\ndied with ample means for a life long livelihood so that he might\npass his days like a Grandee of the land in ease and joyance and\ndelight. I--their only child--had nor care nor trouble about any\nmatter until one day of the days, when in the prime of manhood, I\nwas a minded to take unto me a wife, a woman winsome and comely\nto look upon, that we might live together in mutual love and\ndouble blessedness. But Allah Almighty willed not that a model\nhelpmate become mine; nay, Destiny wedded me to grief and the\ndirest misery. I married a maid who in outward form and features\nwas a model of beauty and loveliness without, however, one single\ngracious gift of mind or soul; and on the very second day after\nthe wedding her evil nature began to manifest itself. Thou art\nwell aware, O Prince of True Believers, that by Moslem custom\nnone may look upon the face of his betrothed before the marriage\ncontract? nor after wedlock can he complain should his bride\nprove a shrew or a fright: he must needs dwell with her in such\ncontent as he may and be thankful for his fate, be it fair or\nunfair. When I saw first the face of my bride and learnt that it\nwas passing comely, I joyed with exceeding joy and gave thanks to\nAlmighty Allah that He had bestowed on me so charming a mate.\nThat night I slept with her in joy and love-delight; but next day\nwhen the noon meal was spread for me and her I found her not at\ntable and sent to summon her; and after some delay, she came and\nsat her down. I dissembled my annoyance and forbore for this late\ncoming to find fault with her which I soon had ample reason to\ndo. It so happened that amongst the many dishes which were served\nup to us was a fine pilaff,[FN#259] of which I, according to the\ncustom in our city, began to eat with a spoon; but she, in lieu\nof it pulled out an ear pick from her pocket and therewith fell\nto picking up the rice and ate it grain by grain. Seeing this\nstrange conduct I was sore amazed and fuming inwardly said in\nsweet tones, \"O my Aminah,[FN#260] what be this way of eating?\nhast thou learnt it of thy people or art thou counting grains of\nrice purposing to make a hearty meal here after? Thou hast eaten\nbut ten or twenty during all this time. Or haply thou art\npracticing thrift: if so I would have thee know that Allah\nAlmighty hath given me abundant store and fear not on that\naccount; but do thou, O my dearling, as all do and eat as thou\nseest thy husband eat.\" I fondly thought that she would assuredly\nvouchsafe some words of thanks, but never a syllable spake she\nand ceased not picking up grain after grain: nay more, in order\nto provoke me to greater displeasure, she paused for a long time\nbetween each. Now when the next course of cakes came on she idly\nbrake some bread and tossed a crumb or two into her mouth; in\nfact she ate less than would satisfy the stomach of a sparrow. I\nmarvelled much to see her so obstinate and self-willed but I said\nto myself, in mine innocence, \"May be she hath not been\naccustomed to eat with men, and especially she may be too shame\nfaced to eat heartily in presence of her husband: she will in\ntime do whatso do other folk.\" I thought also that perchance she\nhath already broken her fast and lost appetite, or haply it hath\nbeen her habit to eat alone. So I said nothing and after dinner\nwent out to smell the air and play the Jar\u00edd[FN#261] and thought\nno more of the matter. When, however, we two sat again at meat my\nbride ate after the same fashion as before; nay, she would ever\npersist in her perversity; whereat I was sore troubled in mind,\nand marvelled how without food she kept herself alive. One night\nit chanced that deeming me fast asleep she rose up in stealth\nfrom my side, I being wide awake: when I saw her step cautiously\nfrom the bed as one fearing lest she might disturb me. I wondered\nwith exceeding wonder why she should arise from sleep to leave me\nthus and methought I would look into the matter. Wherefore I\nstill feigned sleep and snored but watched her as I lay, and\npresently saw her dress herself and leave the room; I then sprang\noff the bed and throwing on my robe and slinging my sword across\nmy shoulder looked out of the window to spy whither she went.\nPresently she crossed the courtyard and opening the street-door\nfared forth; and I also ran out through the entrance which she\nhad left unlocked; then followed her by the light of the moon\nuntil she entered a cemetery hard by our home.--And as the morn\nbegan to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n         The end of the Six Hundred and Twelfth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Sidi\nNu'uman continued his story saying:--But when I beheld Aminah my\nbride enter the cemetery, I stood without and close to the wall\nover which I peered so that I could espy her well but she could\nnot discover me. Then what did I behold but Aminah sitting with a\nGhul![FN#262] Thy Highness wotteth well that Ghuls be of the race\nof devils; to wit, they are unclean spirits which inhabit ruins\nand which terrify solitary wayfarers and at times seizing them\nfeed upon their flesh; and if by day they find not any traveller\nto eat they go by night to the graveyards and dig out and devour\ndead bodies. So I was sore amazed and terrified to see my wife\nthus seated with a Ghul. Then the twain dug up from the grave a\ncorpse which had been newly buried, and the Ghul and my wife\nAminah tore off pieces of the flesh which she ate making merry\nthe while and chatting with her companion but inasmuch as I stood\nat some distance I could not hear what it was they said. At this\nsight I trembled with exceeding fear. And when they had made an\nend of eating they cast the bones into the pit and thereover\nheaped up the earth e'en as it was before. Leaving them thus\nengaged in their foul and fulsome work, I hastened home; and,\nallowing the street-door to remain half-open as my bride had\ndone, I reached my room, and throwing myself upon our bed feigned\nsleep. Presently Aminah came and doffing her dress calmly lay\nbeside me, and I knew by her manner that she had not seen me at\nall, nor guessed that I had followed her to the cemetery. This\ngave me great relief of mind, withal I loathed to bed beside a\ncannibal and a corpse-eater; howbeit I lay still despite extreme\nmisliking till the Muezzin's call for dawn-prayers, when getting\nup I busied myself with the Wuz\u00fa-ablution and set forth mosque-\nwards. Then having said my prayers and fulfilled my ceremonial\nduties,[FN#263] I strolled about the gardens, and during this\nwalk having turned over the matter in my mind, determined that it\nbehoved me to remove my bride from such ill companionship, and\nwean her from the habit of devouring dead bodies. With these\nthoughts I came back home at dinner-time, when Aminah on seeing\nme return bade the servants serve up the noontide meal and we\ntwain sat at table; but as before she fell to picking up the rice\ngrain by grain. Thereat said I to her, \"O my wife, it irketh me\nmuch to see thee picking up each grain of rice like a hen. If\nthis dish suit not thy taste see there are, by Allah's grace and\nthe Almighty's favour, all kinds of meats before us. Do thou eat\nof that which pleaseth thee most; each day the table is bespread\nwith dishes of different kinds and if these please thee not, thou\nhast only to order whatsoever food thy soul desireth. Yet I would\nask of thee one question: Is there no meat upon the table as rich\nand toothsome as man's flesh, that thou refuseth every dish they\nset before thee?\" Ere I had finished speaking my wife became\nassured that I was aware of her night adventure: she suddenly\nwaxed wroth with exceeding wrath, her face flushed red as fire,\nher eyeballs started out from their sockets and she foamed at the\nmouth with ungovernable fury. Seeing her in this mood I was\nterrified and my sense and reason fled by reason of my affright;\nbut presently in the madness of her passion she took up a tasse\nof water which stood beside her and dipping her fingers in the\ncontents muttered some words which I could not understand; then\nsprinkling some drops over me, cried, Accursed that thou art! for\nthis thine insolence and betrayal do thou be straightway turned\ninto a dog.\" At once I became transmewed and she, picking up a\nstaff began to ribroast me right mercilessly and well nigh killed\nme. I ran about from room to room but she pursued me with the\nstick, and tunded and belaboured me with might and main, till she\nwas clean exhausted. She then threw the street-door half open\nand, as I made for it to save my life, attempted violently to\nclose it, so as to squeeze my soul out of my body; but I saw her\ndesign and baffled it, leaving behind me, however, the tip of my\ntail; and piteously yelping hereat I escaped further basting and\nthought myself lucky to get away from her without broken bones.\nWhen I stood in the street still whining and ailing, the dogs of\nthe quarter seeing a stranger, at once came rushing at me barking\nand biting;[FN#264] and I with tail between my legs tore along\nthe market place and ran into the shop of one who sold sheeps'\nand goats' heads and trotters; and there crouching low hid me in\na dark corner.--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her\npeace till\n\n        The end of the Six Hundred and Thirteenth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Sidi\nNu'uman continued his story as follows--The shopkeeper, despite\nhis scruples of conscience, which caused him to hold all dogs\nimpure,[FN#265] hath ruth upon my sorry plight and drove away the\nyelling and grinning curs that would have followed me into his\nshop; and I, escaping this danger of doom, passed all the night\nhid in my corner. Early next morning the butcher sallied forth to\nbuy his usual wares, sheeps' heads and hooves, and, coming back\nwith a large supply, he began to lay them out for sale within the\nshop, when I, seeing that a whole pack of dogs had gathered about\nthe place attracted by the smell of flesh, also joined them. The\nowner noticed me among the ragged tykes and said to himself,\n\"This dog hath tasted naught since yesterday when it ran yelping\nhungrily and hid within my shop.\" He then threw me a fair sized\npiece of meat, but I refused it and went up to him and wagged my\ntail to the end that he might know my wish to stay with him and\nbe protected by his stall: he, however, thought that I had eaten\nmy sufficiency, and, picking up a staff frightened me away. So\nwhen I saw how the butcher heeded not my case, I trotted off and\nwandering to and fro presently came to a bakery and stood before\nthe door wherethrough I espied the baker at breakfast. Albeit I\nmade no sign as though I wanted aught of food, he threw me a\nbittock of bread; and I, in lieu of snapping it up and greedily\nswallowing it, as is the fashion with all dogs the gentle and\nsimple of them, approached him with it and gazed in his face and\nwagged my tail by way of thanks. He was pleased by this my well\nbred behaviour and smiled at me; whereat I albeit not one whit\nanhungered, but merely to humour him, fell to eating the bread,\nlittle by little and leisurely, to testify my respect. He was yet\nmore satisfied with my manners and wished to keep me in his shop;\nand I, noting his intent, sat by the door and looked wistfully at\nhim, whereby he knew that I desired naught of him save his\nprotection. He then caressed me and took charge of me and kept me\nto guard his store, but I would not enter his house till after he\nhad led the way; he also showed me where to lie o'nights and fed\nme well at every meal and entreated me right hospitably. I\nlikewise would watch his every movement and always lay down or\nrose up even as he bade me; and whenas he left his lodging or\nwalked anywhither he took me with him. If ever when I lay asleep\nhe went outside and found me not, he would stand still in the\nstreet and call to me crying, \"Bakht!' Bakht!''[FN#266] an\nauspicious name he had given to me; and straightway on hearing\nhim I would rush about and frisk before the door; and when he set\nout to taste the air I paced beside him now running on ahead, now\nfollowing at his heels and ever and anon looking up in his face.\nThus some time passed during which I lived with him in all\ncomfort; till one day of the days it so chanced that a woman came\nto the bakery to buy her bread and gave the owner several dirhams\nto its price, whereof one was bad coin whilst the others were\ngood. My master tested all the silvers and, finding out the false\nbit, returned it demanding a true dirham in exchange; but the\nwoman wrangled and would not take it back and swore that it was\nsound. Quoth the baker, \"The dirham is beyond all doubt a\nworthless: see yonder dog of mine, he is but a beast, yet mark me\nhe will tell thee whether it be true or false silver.\" So he\ncalled me by my name, \"Bakht! Bakht!\" whereat I sprang up and ran\ntowards him and he, throwing all the moneys upon the ground\nbefore me, cried, \"Here, look these dirhams over and if there be\na false coin among them separate it from all the others.\" I\ninspected the silvers each by each and found the counterfeit:\nthen, putting it on one side and all the others on another, I\nplaced my paw upon the false silver and wagging what remained of\nmy tail looked up at my master's face. The baker was delighted\nwith my sagacity, and the woman also, marvelling with excessive\nmarvel at what had happened, took back her bad dirham and paid\nanother in exchange. But when the buyer fared forth, my master\ncalled together his neighbours and gossips and related to them\nthis matter; so they threw down on the ground before me coins\nboth good and bad, in order that they might test me and see with\ntheir own eyes an I were as clever as my master had said I was.\nMany times in succession I picked out the false coins from\namongst the true and placed my paw upon them without once\nfailing; so all went away astounded and related the case to each\nand every one they saw and thus the bruit of me spread abroad\nthroughout the city. That live long day I spent in testing\ndirhams fair and foul.--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad\nheld her peace till\n\n        The end of the Six Hundred and Fourteenth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Sidi\nNu'uman continued his story saying:--From that day forwards the\nbaker honoured me yet more highly, and all his friends and\nfamiliars laughed and said, \"Forsooth thou hast in this dog a\nmighty good Shroff.\"[FN#267] And some envied my master his luck\nin having me within the shop, and tried ofttimes to entice me\naway, but the baker kept me with him nor would he ever allow me\nto leave his side; for the fame of me brought him a host of\ncustomers from every quarter of the town even the farthest. Not\nmany days after there came another woman to buy loaves at our\nshop and paid the baker six dirhams whereof one was worthless. My\nmaster passed them over to me for test and trial, and straightway\nI picked out the false one, and placing paw thereon looked up in\nthe woman's face. Hereat she waxed confused and confessed that it\nwas miscoined and praised me for that I had found it out; then,\ngoing forth the same woman made signs to me that I should follow\nher unbeknown to the baker. Now I had not ceased praying Allah\nthat somehow He would restore me to my human form and hoped that\nsome good follower of the Almighty would take note of this my\nsorry condition and vouchsafe me succour. So as the woman turned\nseveral times and looked at me, I was persuaded in my mind that\nshe had knowledge of my case; I therefore kept my eyes upon her;\nwhich seeing she came back ere she had stepped many paces, and\nbeckoned me to accompany her. I understood her signal and\nsneaking out of the presence of the baker, who was busy heating\nhis oven, followed in her wake. Pleased beyond all measure to see\nme obey her, she went straight way home with me, and entering she\nlocked the door and led me into a room where sat a fair maid in\nembroidered dress whom I judged by her favour to be the good\nwoman's daughter. The damsel was well skilled in arts magical; so\nthe mother said to her, \"O my daughter, here is a dog which\ntelleth bad dirhams from good dirhams. When first I heard the\nmarvel I bethought me that the beastie must be a man whom some\nbase wretch and cruel hearted had turned into a dog. Methought\nthat to day I would see this animal and test it when buying\nloaves at the booth of yonder baker and behold, it hath acquitted\nitself after the fairest of fashions and hath stood the test and\ntrial. Look well, O my daughter, at this dog and see whether it\nbe indeed an animal or a man transformed into a beast by\ngramarye.\" The young lady, who had veiled her face,[FN#268]\nhereupon considered me attentively and presently cried, \"O my\nmother, 'tis even as thou sayest, and this I will prove to thee\nforthright.\" Then rising from her seat she took a basin of water\nand dipping hand therein sprinkled some drops upon me saying, \"An\nthou wert born a dog then do thou abide a dog, but an thou wert\nborn a man then, by virtue of this water, resume thine human\nfavour and figure.\" Immediately I was transformed from the shape\nof a dog to human semblance and I fell at the maiden's feet and\nkissed the ground before her giving her thanks; then, bussing the\nhem of her garment, I cried, \"O my lady, thou hast been exceeding\ngracious unto one unbeknown to thee and a stranger. How can I\nfind words wherewith to thank thee and bless thee as thou\ndeserves\"? Tell me now, I pray thee, how and whereby I may shew\nmy gratitude to thee? From this day forth I am beholden to thy\nkindness and am become thy slave.\" Then I related all my case and\ntold her of Aminah's wickedness and what of wrongs she had\nwrought me; and I made due acknowledgment to her mother for that\nshe had brought me to her home. Herewith quoth the damsel to me,\n\"O Sidi Nu'uman, I pray thee bestow not such exceeding thanks\nupon me, for rather am I glad and grateful in conferring this\nservice upon one so well-deserving as thou art. I have been\nfamiliar with thy wife Aminah for a long time before thou didst\nmarry her; I also knew that she had skill in witchcraft and she\nlikewise knoweth of my art, for we twain learnt together of one\nand the same mistress in the science. We met ofttimes at the\nHammam as friends but, in asmuch as she was ill-mannered and ill-\ntempered, I declined further intimacy with her. Think not that it\nsufficeth me to have made thee recover thy form as it was\naforetime; nay, verily needs must I take due vengeance of her for\nthe wrong she hath done thee. And this will I do at thy hand, so\nshalt thou have mastery over her and find thyself lord of thine\nown house and home.[FN#269] Tarry here awhile until I come\nagain.\" So saying the damsel passed into another room and I\nremained sitting and talking with her mother and praised her\nexcellence and kindness towards me. The ancient dame also related\nstrange and rare deeds of wonder done by her with pure purpose\nand lawful means, till the girl returned with an ewer in hand and\nsaid, \"O Sidi Nu'uman, my magical art doth tell me that Aminah is\nat this present away from home but she will return thither\npresently. Meanwhile she dissembleth with the domestics and\nfeigneth grief at severance from thee; and she hath pretended\nthat, as thou sattest at meat with her, thou didst suddenly arise\nand fare forth on some weighty matter, when presently a dog\nrushed through the open door into the room and she drove it away\nwith a staff.\" Then giving me a gugglet full of the water the\nmaiden resumed, \"O Sidi Nu'uman, go now to thine own house and,\nkeeping this gugglet by thee, await patiently Aminah's coming.\nAnon she will return and seeing thee will be sore perplexed and\nwill hasten to escape from thee; but before she go forth sprinkle\nsome drops from this gugglet upon her and recite these spells\nwhich I shall teach thee. I need not tell thee more; thou wilt\nespy with thine own eyes what shall happen.\" Having said these\nwords the young lady taught me magical phrases which I fixed in\nmy memory full firmly, and after this I took my leave and\nfarewelled them both. When I reached home it happened even as the\nyoung magician had told me; and I had tarried but a short time in\nthe house when Aminah came in. I held the gugglet in hand and she\nseeing me trembled with sore trembling and would fain have run\naway; but I hastily sprinkled some drops upon her and repeated\nthe magical words, whereat she was turned into a mare--the animal\nthy Highness deigned remark but yesterday. I marvelled greatly to\nsight this transformation and seizing the mare's mane led her to\nthe stable and secured her with a halter.--And as the morn began\nto dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n         The end of the Six Hudred and Fifteenth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Sidi\nNu'uman continued his story saying:--When I had secured the mare,\nI loaded her with reproaches for her wickedness and her base\nbehaviour, and lashed her with a whip till my forearm was\ntired.[FN#270] Then I resolved within myself that I would ride\nher at full speed round the square each day and thus inflict upon\nher the justest penalty.--Herewith Sidi Nu'uman held his peace,\nhaving made an end of telling his tale; but presently he resumed,\n\"O Commander of the Faithful, I trow thou art not displeased at\nthis my conduct, nay rather thou wouldst punish such a woman with\na punishment still greater than this.\" He then kissed the hem of\nthe Caliph's robe and kept silence; and Harun al-Rashid,\nperceiving that he had said all his say, exclaimed, \"In very\nsooth thy story is exceeding strange and rare. The wrong doing of\nthy wife hath no excuse and thy requital is methinks in due\nmeasure and just degree, but I would ask thee one thing--How long\nwilt thou chastise her thus, and how long will she remain in\nbestial guise? 'Twere better now for thee to seek the young lady\nby whose magical skill thy wife was transformed and beg that she\nbring her back to human shape. And yet I fear me greatly lest\nperchance whenas this sorceress, this Ghulah, shall find herself\nrestored to woman's form and resumeth her conjurations and\nincantations she may--who knoweth?.--requite thee with far\ngreater wrong than she hath done thee heretofore, and from this\nthou wilt not be able to escape.\" After this the Prince of True\nBelievers forbore to urge the matter, albeit he was mild and\nmerciful by nature,[FN#271] and addressing the third man whom the\nWazir had brought before him said, \"As I was walking in such a\nquarter I was astonished to see thy mansion, so great and so\ngrand is it; and when I made enquiry of the townsfolk they\nanswered each and every, that the palace belongeth to one\n(thyself) whom they called Khw\u00e1jah Hasan. They added that thou\nwest erewhile exceeding poor and in straitened case, but that\nAllah Almighty had widened thy means and had now sent thee wealth\nin such store that thou hast builded the finest of buildings;\nmoreover, that albeit thou hast so princely a domicile and such\nabundance of riches, thou art not unmindful of thy former estate,\nand thou dost not waste thy substance in riotous living but thou\naddest thereto by lawful trade. The neighbourhood all speaketh\nwell of thee and not a wight of them hath aught to say against\nthee; so I now would know of thee the certainty of these things\nand hear from thine own lips how thou didst gain this abundant\nwealth. I have summoned thee before me that I might be assured of\nall such matters by actual hearsay: so fear not to tell me all\nthy tale; I desire naught of thee save knowledge of this thy\ncase. Enjoy thou to thy heart's content the opulence that\nAlmighty Allah deigned bestow upon thee, and let thy soul have\npleasure therein. Thus spake the Caliph and the gracious words\nreassured the man. Then Khwajah Hasan threw himself before the\nCommander of the Faithful and, kissing the carpet at the foot of\nthe throne, exclaimed, \"O Prince of True Believers, I will relate\nto thee a faithful relation of my adventure, and Almighty Allah\nbe my witness that I have not done aught contrary to thy laws and\njust commandments, and that all this my wealth is by the favour\nand goodness of Allah alone.\" Harun al-Rashid hereupon again bade\nhim speak out boldly and forthwith he began to recount in the\nfollowing words the\n\n\n\n\n\nHistory of Khwajah Hasan al-Habbal.[FN#272]\n\n\n\nO Lord of beneficence! obedient to thy royal behest, I will now\ninform thy Highness of the means and the measures whereby Destiny\ncowered me with such wealth; but first I would thou hear somewhat\nof two amongst my friends who abode in the House of Peace,\nBaghdad. They twain are yet alive and both well know the history\nwhich thy slave shall now relate. One of them, men call Sa'd, the\nother Sa'd\u00ed.[FN#273] Now Sa'di opined that without riches no one\nin this world could be happy and independent; moreover that\nwithout hard toil and trouble and wariness and wisdom withal it\nwere impossible to become wealthy. But Sa'd differing therefrom\nwould affirm that affluence cometh not to any save by decree of\nDestiny and fiat of Fate and Fortune. Sa'd was a poor man while\nSa'di had great store of good; yet there sprang up a firm\nfriendship between them and fond affection each for other; nor\nwere they ever wont to differ upon any matter save only upon\nthis; to wit, that Sa'di relied solely upon deliberation and\nforethought and Sa'd upon doom and man's lot. It chanced one day\nthat, as they sat talking together on this matter, quoth Sa'di,\n\"A poor man is he who either is born a pauper and passeth all his\ndays in want and penury, or he who having been born to wealth and\ncomfort, doth in the time of manhood squander all he hath and\nfalleth into grievous need; then lacketh he the power to regain\nhis riches and to live at ease by wit and industry.\" Sa'd made\nanswer, saying, \"Nor wit nor industry availeth aught to any one,\nbut Fate alone enableth him to acquire and to preserve riches.\nMisery and want are but accidents and deliberation is naught.\nFull many a poor man hath waxed affluent by favour of Fate and\nrichards manifold have, despite their skill and store, been\nreduced to misery and beggary.\" Quoth Sa'di, \"Thou speakest\nfoolishly. Howbeit put we the matter to fair test and find out\nfor ourselves some handicraftsman scanty of means and living upon\nhis daily wage; him let us provide with money, then will he\nwithout a doubt increase his stock and abide in ease and comfort,\nand so shalt thou be persuaded that my words be true.\" Now as\nthey twain were walking on, they passed through the lane wherein\nstood my lodging and saw me a twisting ropes, which craft my\nfather and grandfather and many generations before me had\nfollowed. By the condition of my home and dress they judged that\nI was a needy man; where upon Sa'd pointing me out to Sa'di said,\n\"An thou wouldst make trial of this our matter of dispute, see\nyonder wight. He hath dwelt here for many years and by this trade\nof rope making cloth gain a bare subsistence for himself and his.\nI know his case right well of old; he is a worthy subject for the\ntrial; so do thou give him some gold pieces and test the matter.\"\n\"Right willingly,\" replied Sa'di, \"but first let us take full\ncognizance of him.\" So the two friends came up to me, whereat I\nleft my work and saluted them. They returned my salam after which\nquoth Sa'di, \"Prithee what be thy name?\" Quoth I, \"My name is\nHasan, but by reason of my trade of rope making all men call me\nHasan al-Habb\u00e1l.\"--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held\nher peace till\n\n        The end of the Six Hundred and Sixteenth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Hasan al-\nHabbal (the Rope-maker) continued his story, saying.--Thereupon\nSa'di asked me, \"How farest thou by this industry? Me thinks thou\nart blithe and quite content therewith. Thou hast worked long and\nwell and doubtless thou hast laid by large store of hemp and\nother stock. Thy forbears carried on this craft for many years\nand must have left thee much of capital and property which thou\nhast turned to good account and on this wise thou hast largely\nincreased thy wealth.\" Quoth I, \"O my lord, no money have I in\npouch whereby I may live happy or even buy me enough to eat. This\nis my case that every day, from dawn till eve I spend in making\nropes, nor have I one single moment wherein to take rest; and\nstill I am sore straitened to provide even dry bread for myself\nand family. A wife have I and five small children, who are yet\ntoo young to help me ply this business: and 'tis no easy matter\nto supply their daily wants; how then canst thou suppose that I\nam enabled to put by large store of hemp and stock? What ropes I\ntwist each day I sell straightway, and of the money earned\nthereby I spend part upon our needs and with the rest I buy hemp\nwherewith I twist ropes on the next day. However, praise be to\nAlmighty Allah that, despite this my state of penury He provideth\nus with bread sufficing our necessity.\" When I had made known all\nmy condition Sa'di replied, \"O Hasan, now I am certified of thy\ncase and indeed 'tis other than I had supposed; and, given that I\ngave thee a purse of two hundred Ashrafis, assuredly thou shalt\ntherewith greatly add to thy gains and be enabled to live in ease\nand affluence: what sayest thou thereto?\" Said I, \"An thou favour\nme with such bounty I should hope to grow richer than all and\nevery of my fellow-craftsmen, albeit Baghdad-town is prosperous\nas it is populous.\" Then Sa'di, deeming me true and trustworthy,\npulled out of his pocket a purse of two hundred gold pieces and\nhanding them to me said \"Take these coins and trade therewith.\nMay Allah advance thee but see to it that thou use this money\nwith all heed, and waste it not in folly and ungraciousness. I\nand my friend Sa'd will rejoice with all joy to hear of thy well\nbeing; and, if hereafter we come again and find thee in\nflourishing condition, 'twill be matter of much satisfaction to\nus both.\" Accordingly, O Commander of the Faithful, I took the\npurse of gold with much gladness and a grateful heart and,\nplacing it in my pocket, thanked Sa'di kissing his garment-hem,\nwhereupon the two friends fared forth. And I, O Prince of True\nBelievers, seeing the twain depart, went on working, but was sore\npuzzled and perplexed as to where I might bestow the purse; for\nmy house contained neither cupboard nor locker. Howbeit I took it\nhome and kept the matter hidden from my wife and children and\nwhen alone and unobserved I drew out ten gold coins by way of\nspending money; then, binding the purse mouth with a bit of\nstring I tied it tightly in the folds of my turband and wound the\ncloth around my head. Presently, I went off to the market street\nand bought me a stock of hemp and coming homewards I laid in some\nmeat for supper, it being now a long while since we had tasted\nflesh. But as I trudged along the road, meat in hand, a\nkite[FN#274] came suddenly swooping down, and would have snatched\nthe morsel from out my hand had I not driven off the bird with\nthe other hand. Then it had fain pounced upon the flesh on the\nleft side but again I scared it away and thus, whilst exerting\nmyself with frantic efforts to ward off the bird, by ill luck my\nturband fell to the ground. At once that accursed kite swooped\ndown and flew off with it in its talons; and I ran pursuing it\nand shouted aloud. Hearing my cries the Bazar-folk, men and women\nand a rout of children, did what they could to scare it away and\nmake the beastly bird drop its prey, but they shouted and cast\nstones in vain: the kite would not let drop the turband and\npresently flew clean out of sight. I was sore distressed and\nheavy hearted to lose the Ashrafis as I tried me home bearing the\nhemp and what of food I had bought, but chiefly was I vexed and\ngrieved in mind, and ready to die of shame at the thought of what\nSa'di would say; especially when I reflected how he would\nmisdoubt my words, nor deem the tale true when I should tell him\nthat a kite had carried off my turband with the gold pieces, but\nrather would he think that I had practised some deceit and had\ndevised some amusing fable by way of excuse. Howbeit I hugely\nenjoyed what had remained of the ten Ashrafis and with my wife\nand children fared sumptuously for some days. Presently, when all\nthe gold was spent and naught remained thereof, I became as poor\nand needy as before, withal I was content and thankful to\nAlmighty Allah nor blamed my lot. He had sent in his mercy this\npurse of gold to me unawares and now He had taken it away,\nwherefore I was grateful and satisfied, for what He doeth is ever\nwell done.--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her\npeace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Seventeenth Night.\n\nThen said she: I have heard, O auspicious King, that Master Hasan\nthe Ropemaker continued his story in these words:--My wife, who\nknew not of the matter of the Ashrafis, presently perceived that\nI was ill at ease and I was compelled for a quiet life to let her\nknow my secret; moreover the neighbours came round to ask me of\nmy case: but I was right loath to tell them all that had betided;\nthey could not bring back what was gone and they would assuredly\nrejoice at my calamity. However, when they pressed me close I\ntold them every whit; and some thought that I had spoken falsely\nand derided me and others that I was daft and hare-brained and my\nwords were the wild pratings of an idiot or the drivel of dreams.\nThe youngsters made abundant fun of me and laughed to think that\nI, who never in my born days had sighted a golden coin, should\ntell how I had gotten so many Ashrafis, and how a kite had flown\naway with them. My wife, however, gave full credence to my tale\nand wept and beat her breast for sorrow. Thus six months passed\nover us, when it chanced one day that the two friends, to wit,\nSa'di and Sa'd, came to my quarter of the town, when quoth Sa'd\nto Sa'di, \"Lo, yonder is the street where dwelleth Hasan\nal-Habbal. Come let us go and see how he hath added to his stock\nand how far he hath prospered by means of the two hundred\nAshrafis thou gavest him.\" Sa'di rejoined, 'Tis well said;\nindeed, we have not seen him for many days: I would fain visit\nhim and I should rejoice to hear that he hath prospered.\" So the\ntwain walked along towards my house, Sa'd saying to Sa'di,\n\"Forsooth I perceive that he appeareth the same in semblance,\npoor and ill-conditioned as before; he weareth old and tattered\ngarments, save that his turband seemeth somewhat newer and\ncleaner. Look well and judge thyself and 'tis even as I said.\"\nThereupon Sa'di came up closer to me and he also understood that\nmy condition was unaltered; and presently the two friends\naddressed me. After the usual salutetion Sa'd asked, O Hasan, how\nfareth it with thee, and how goeth it with thy business and have\nthe two hundred Ashrafis stood thee in good stead and amended thy\ntrade?\" To this answered I, \"O my lords, how can I tell you of\nthe sad mishap that hath befallen me? I dare not speak for very\nshame, yet cannot I keep the adventure concealed. Verily a\nmarvellous matter and a wondrous hath happened to me, the tale\nwhereof will fill you with wonderment and suspicion, for I wot\nfull well that ye will not believe it, and that I shall be to you\nas one that dealeth in lies; withal needs must I tell you the\nwhole however unwillingly.\" Hereat I recounted to them every whit\nthat had betided me first and last, especially that which had\nbefallen me from the kite; but Sa'di misdoubted me and mistrusted\nme and cried, \"O Hasan, thou speakest but in jest and dost\ndissemble with us. 'Tis hard to believe the tale thou tellest.\nKites are not wont to fly off with turbands, but only with such\nthings as they can eat. Thou wouldst but outwit us and thou art\nof those who, when some good fortune cometh to them unforeseen,\ndo straightways abandon their work or their business and, wasting\nall in pleasuring, become once more poor and thereafter must\nnilly-willy eke out a living as best they may. This methinks be\nespecially the case with thee; thou hast squandered our gift with\nall speed and now art needy as before.\" \"O good my lord, not so,\"\ncried I; \"this blame and these hard words ill befit my deserts,\nfor I am wholly innocent of all thou imputest to me. The strange\nmishap whereof I told thee is the truest of truths; and to prove\nthat it is no lie all the town-folk have knowledge thereof and in\ngood sooth I do not play thee false. 'Tis certain that kites do\nnot fly away with turbands; but such mishaps, wondrous and\nmarvellous, may betide mankind especially the miserable of lot.\"\nSa'd also espoused my cause and said, \"O Sa'di, ofttimes have we\nseen and heard how kites carry off many things besides\ncomestibles; and his tale may not be wholly contrary to reason.\"\nThen Sa'di pulled out from his pocket a purseful of gold pieces\nand counted out and gave me another two hundred, saying, \"O\nHasan, take these Ashrafis, but see that thou keep them with all\nheed and diligence and beware, and again I say beware, lest thou\nlose them like the others. Expend them in such fashion that thou\nmayst reap full benefit therefrom and prosper even as thou seest\nthy neighbours prosper.\" I took the money from him and poured out\nthanks and blessings upon his head, and when they went their ways\nI returned to my rope-walk and thence in due time straight home.\nMy wife and children were abroad, so again I took ten gold coins\nof the two hundred and securely tied up the remainder in a piece\nof cloth then I looked around to find a spot wherein to hide my\nhoard so that my wife and youngsters might not come to know of it\nand lay hands thereon. Presently, I espied a large earthen jar\nfull of bran standing in a corner of the room, so herein I hid\nthe rag with the gold coins and I misdeemed that it was safely\nconcealed from wife and wees.--And as the morn began to dawn\nShahrazad held her peace till\n\n        The end of the Six Hundred and Eighteenth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Hasan\nal-Habbal thus continued his story:--When I had put the Ashrafis\na bottom the jar of bran, my wife came in and I said naught to\nher of the two friends or of aught had happened, but I set out\nfor the Bazar to buy hemp. Now as soon as I had left the house\nthere came, by evil fate impelled, a man who sold Tafl, or\nfuller's earth,[FN#275] wherewith the poorer sort of women are\nwont to wash their hair. My wife would fain have bought some but\nnot a single Kauri[FN#276] or almond had she. Then she took\nthought and said to herself, \"This jar of bran is here to no\npurpose, I will exchange it for the clay,\" and he also, the Tafl\nseller, agreed to this proposal and went off taking the jar of\nbran as the price of the washing earth. Anon I came back with a\nload of hemp upon my head and other five on the heads of as many\nporters who accompanied me; and I helped them off with their\nburthens and, after storing the stuff in a room, I paid and\ndismissed them. Then I stretched me out upon the floor to take\nrest awhile and looking towards the corner where once stood the\njar of bran I found it gone. Words fail me, O Prince of True\nBelievers, to describe the tumult of feelings which filled my\nheart at the sight. I sprang up with all speed and calling to my\nwife enquired of her whither the jar had been carried; and she\nreplied that she had exchanged its contents for a trifle of\nwashing clay. Then cried I aloud, \"O wretched, O miserable, what\nhast thou done? thou hast ruined me and thy children; thou hast\ngiven away great wealth to that clay selling fellow!\" Then I told\nher all that had betided me, of the coming of the two friends and\nhow I had hidden the hundred and ninety Ashrafis within the\nbran-jar; and she, on hearing this wept sore and beat her breast\nand tore her hair crying, \"Where now shall I find that clay-\nseller? The wight is a stranger, never before did I see him about\nthis quarter or this street. Then turning to me she continued,\n\"Herein thou hast dealt right foolishly, for that thou didst not\ntell me of the matter, nor didst place any trust in me; otherwise\nthis mishap would never have happened to us; no, never.\" And she\nlamented with loud lamentation and bitter whereat I said, \"Make\nnot such hubbub nor display such trouble, lest our neighbours\noverhear thee, and learning of our mishap peradventure laugh at\nus and call us fools. It behoveth us to rest content with the\nwill of Almighty Allah.\" However the ten Ashrafis which I had\ntaken from the two hundred sufficed me to carry on my trade and\nto live with more of ease for some short while; but I ever\ngrieved and I marvelled much anent what could be said to Sa'di\nwhen he should come again; for inasmuch as he believed me not the\nfirst time I was assured in my mind that now he would denounce me\naloud as a cheat and a liar. One day of the days the twain, to\nwit, Sa'd and Sa'di, came strolling towards my house conversing\nand, as usual, arguing about me and my case; and I seeing them\nfrom afar left off working that I might hide myself, as I could\nnot for very shame come forth and accost them. Seeing this and\nnot guessing the reason they entered my dwelling and, saluting me\nwith the salam, asked me how I had fared. I durst not raise my\neyes so abashed and mortified was I, and with bended brow\nreturned the greeting; when they, noting my sorry plight,\nmarvelled saying, \"Is all well with thee? Why art thou in this\nstate? Hast thou not made good use of the gold or hast thou\nwasted thy wealth in lewd living?\" Quoth I, \"O my lords, the\nstory of the Ashrafis is none other than this. When ye departed\nfrom me I went home with the purse of money and, finding no one\nwas in the house for all had gone out somewhere, I took out\ntherefrom ten gold pieces. Then I put the rest together with the\npurse within a large earthen jar filled full of bran which had\nlong stood in one corner of the room, so might the matter be kept\nprivy from my wife and children. But whilst I was in the market\nbuying me some hemp, my wife returned home; and at that moment\nthere came in to her a man which sold fuller's earth for washing\nhair. She had need thereof withal naught to pay with; so she went\nout to him and said, 'I am clean without coin, but I have a\nquantity of bran; say me, wilt thou have that in change for thy\nclay?' The man agreed and accordingly my wife took the earth of\nhim, and gave him in exchange the jarful of bran which he carried\naway with him and ganged his gait. An ye ask, 'Wherefore didst\nthou not confide the matter to thy spouse and tell her that thou\nhadst put the money in the jar?' I on my side answer, that ye\ngave me strict injunctions to keep the money this time with the\nutmost heed and caution. Methought that stead was the safest\nwherein to store the gold and I was loath to trust my wife lest\nhaply she take some coin therefrom and expend it upon her\nhousehold. O my lords, I am certified of your goodness and\ngraciousness, but poverty and penury are writ in my Book of Fate;\nhow then can I aspire to possessions and prosperity? Withal,\nnever while I breathe the breath of life, shall I be forgetful of\nthis your generous favour.\" Quoth Sa'di, \"Meseemeth I have\ndisbursed four hundred Ashrafis to no purpose in giving them to\nthee; yet the intent wherewith they were given was that thou\nshouldst benefit thereby, not that I claim thy praise and\nthanksgiving.\" So they twain compassionated and condoled with me\nin my misfortune; and presently Sa'd, an upright man and one who\nhad acquaintance with me since many a year, produced a leaden\ncoin[FN#277] which he had picked up from the path and was still\ncarrying in his pocket; and, after shewing it to Sa'di, said to\nme, \"Seest thou this bit of lead? Take it and by favour of Fate\nthou shalt find out what blessings it will bring to thee.\" Sa'di\non espying it laughed aloud and made jest of the matter and\nflouting said, \"What advantage will there be to Hasan from this\nmite of lead and in what way shall he use it?\" Sa'd handing me\nthe leaden coin retorted in reply, \"Give no heed to whatso Sa'di\nmay say, but keep this by thee. Let him laugh an he please. One\nday haply shall come to pass, Inshallah--an it be the will of\nAlmighty Allah--that thou shalt by means thereof become a wealthy\nman and a magnifico.\" I took the bit of lead and put it in my\npocket, and the twain bade me farewell and went their way.--And\nas the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n        The end of the Six Hundred and Nineteenth Night.\n\nThen said she--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Hasan al-\nHabbal thus continued his story:--As soon as Sa'd and Sa'di had\ndeparted, I went on rope-twisting until night came and when\ndoffing my dress to go to bed the bit of lead which Sa'd had\ngiven me fell out of my pocket; so I picked it up and set it\ncarelessly in a small niche in the wall.[FN#278] Now that very\nnight so it happened that a fisherman, one of my neighbours,\nstood in need of a small coin[FN#279] wherewith to buy some twine\nfor mending his drag-net, as he was wont to do during the dark\nhours, in order that he might catch the fish ere dawn of day and\nselling his quarry, buy victuals for himself and his household.\nSo, as he was accustomed to rise while yet somewhat of night\nremained, he bade his wife go round about to all the neighbours\nand borrow a copper that he might buy the twine required; and the\nwoman went everywhere, from house to house, but nowhere could she\nget loan of a farthing, and at last she came home weary and\ndisappointed. Quoth the fisherman to her, \"Hast thou been to\nHasan al-Habbal?\" and quoth she, \"Nay, I have not tried at his\nplace. It is the furthest of all the neighbours' houses and\nfanciest thou, even had I gone there, I could thence have brought\nback aught?\" \"Off with thee, O laziest of hussies and good for\nnothing of baggages,\" cried the fisherman, \"away with thee this\ninstant; perchance he hath a copper to lend us.\" Accordingly the\nwoman, grumbling and muttering, fared forth and coming to my\ndwelling knocked at the door, saying, \"O Hasan al-Habbal, my\nhusband is in sore need of a pice wherewith to buy some twine for\nmending his nets.\" Minding me of the coin which Sa'd had given me\nand where it had been put away, I shouted out to her, \"Have\npatience, my spouse will go forth to thee and give thee what thou\nneedest.\" My wife, hearing all this hubbub, woke from sleep, and\nI told her where to find the bit of money, whereupon she fetched\nit and gave it to the woman, who joyed with exceeding joy, and\nsaid, \"Thou and thy husband have shown great kindness to my man,\nwherefore I promise thee that whatsoever fish he may chance to\ncatch at the first throw of the net shall be thine; and I am\nassured that my goodman, when he shall hear of this my promise,\nwill consent thereto.\" Accordingly when the woman took the money\nto her husband and told him of what pledge she had given, he was\nright willing, and said to her, \"Thou hast done well and wisely\nin that thou madest this covenant.\" Then having bought some twine\nand mended all the nets he rose before dawn and hastened\nriverwards to catch fish according to his custom. But when he\ncast the net into the stream for the first throw and haled it in,\nhe found that it contained but one fish and that a full\nspan[FN#280] or so in thickness, which he placed apart as my\nportion. Then he threw the net again and again and at each cast\nhe caught many fishes both small and great, but none reached in\nsize that he first had netted. As soon as he returned home the\nfisherman came at once to me and brought the fish he had netted\nin my name, and said, O our neighbour, my wife promised over\nnight that thou shouldst have whatever fishes should come to\nground at the first net throw; and this fish is the only one I\ncaught. Here it is, prithee take it as a thanks offering for the\nkindness of last night, and as fulfilment of the promise. If\nAllah Almighty had vouchsafed to me of fish a seine-full, all had\nbeen thine but 'tis thy fate that only this one was landed at the\nfirst cast.\" Said I, \"The mite I gave thee yesternight was not of\nsuch value that I should look for somewhat in return;\" and\nrefused to accept it. But after much \"say and said\" he would not\ntake back the fish, and he insisted that it was mine: wherefore I\nagreed to keep it and gave it to my wife, saying, \"O woman, this\nfish is a return for the mite I gave last night to the fisherman\nour neighbour. Sa'd hath declared that by means of that coin I\nshall attain to much riches and abundant opulence.\" Then I\nrecounted to my wife how my two friends had visited me and what\nthey said and did, and all concerning the leaden coin which Sa'd\nhad given to me. She wondered at seeing but a single fish and\nsaid, \"How shall I cook it? Meseemeth 'twere best to cut it up\nand broil it for the children, especially as we have naught of\nspices and condiments wherewith to dress it otherwise.\" Then, as\nshe sliced and cleansed the fish she found within its belly a\nlarge diamond which she supposed to be a bit of glass or crystal;\nfor she oft had heard tell of diamonds[FN#281] but never with her\nown eyes had she beheld one. So she gave it to the youngest of\nthe children for a plaything and when the others saw it, by\nreason of its brightness and brilliancy all desired to have it\nand each kept it in turn awhile; moreover when night came and the\nlamp was lighted they crowded round the stone and gazed upon its\nbeauty, and screamed and shouted with delight.[FN#282] When my\nwife had spread the table we sat down to supper and the eldest\nboy set the diamond upon the tray, and as soon as we all had\nfinished eating, the children fought and scrambled as before for\nit. At first I paid no heed to their noise and hubbub, but when\nit waxed exceeding loud and irksome I asked my eldest lad the\ncause why they quarrelled and made such turmoil. Quoth he, \"The\ntrouble and dispute are about a piece of glass which giveth forth\na light as bright as the lamp.\" Whereat I told him to produce it\nand marvelled greatly to see its sparkling water, and enquired of\nmy wife whence she had gotten the piece of crystal. Quoth she,\n\"This I found within the belly of the fish as I was gutting it.\"\nStill I did not suppose it to be aught but glass. Presently I\nbade my wife hide the lamp behind the hearth.--And as the morn\nbegan to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n        The end of the Six Hundred and Twentieth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Hasan al-\nHabbal thus continued his story:--And when my wife had hidden the\nlamp from view, such was the brightness of the diamond that we\ncould see right well without other light; wherefore I placed it\nupon the hearth[FN#283] that we might work by it, and said within\nmyself, \"The coin that Sa'd left with me hath produced this\nbenefit that we no longer stand in need of a lamp: at least it\nsaveth us oil.\" When the youngsters saw me put out the lamp and\nuse the glass in its stead they jumped and danced for joy, and\nscreamed and shouted with glee so that all the neighbours round\nabout could hear them when I chid them and sent them to bed; we\nalso went to rest and right soon fell asleep. Next day I woke\nbetimes and went on with my work and thought not of the piece of\nglass. Now there dwelt hard by us a wealthy Jew, a jeweller who\nbought and sold all kinds of precious stones; and, as he and his\nwife essayed to sleep that night, by reason of the noise and\nclamour of the children they were disturbed for many hours and\nslumber visited not their eyes. And when morn appeared, the\njeweller's wife came to our house to make complaint both for\nherself and her husband anent the hubbub and shouting. Ere she\ncould say a word of blame my wife, guessing the intent wherewith\nshe came, addressed her saying, \"O Rah\u00edl,[FN#284] I fear me that\nmy children pestered thee last night with their laughing and\ncrying. I crave thine indulgence in this matter; well thou must\nwot how children now cry now laugh at trifles. Come in and see\nthe cause of all their excitement wherefor thou wouldst justly\ncall me to account.\" She did accordingly and saw the bit of glass\nabout which the youngsters had made such din and uproar; and when\nshe, who had long experience of all manner precious stones,\nbeheld the diamond she was filled with wonderment. My wife then\ntold her how she had found it in the fish's belly, whereupon\nquoth the Jewess, \"This bit of glass is more excellent than all\nother sorts of glass. I too have such an one as this which I am\nwont to wear sometimes; and wouldst thou sell it I will buy this\nthing of thee.\" Hearing her words the children began to cry and\nsaid, \"O mother dear, an thou wilt not sell it we promise\nhenceforth to make no noise.\" Understanding that they would by no\nmeans part with it, the women held their peace and presently the\nJewess fared forth, but ere she took her leave she whispered my\nwife, \"See that thou tell the matter to none; and, if thou have a\nmind to sell it at once send me word.\" Now the Jew was sitting in\nhis shop when his wife went to him and told him of the bit of\nglass. Quoth he, \"Go straightway back and offer a price for it,\nsaying that 'tis for me. Begin with some small bidding, then\nraise the sum until thou get it.\" The Jewess thereupon returned\nto my house and offered twenty Ashrafis, which my wife deemed a\nlarge sum to give for such a trifle; however, she would not close\nthe bargain. At that moment I happened to leave my work and,\ncoming home to our noon meal, saw the two women talking on the\nthreshold; and my wife stopped me, saying, \"This neighbour\nbiddeth twenty Ashrafis to price for the piece of glass, but I\nhave as yet given her no reply. What sayest thou?\" Then I\nbethought me of what Sa'd had told me; to wit, that much wealth\nwould come to me by virtue of his leaden coin. The Jewess seeing\nhow I hesitated bethought her that I would not consent to the\nprice; so quoth she, \"O neighbour, an thou wilt not agree to part\nwith the bit of glass for twenty pieces of gold, I will e'en give\nthee fifty.\" Hereat I reflected that whereas the Jewess raised\nher offer so readily from twenty golden pieces to fifty, this\nglass must surely be of great value; so I kept silence and\nanswered her not a word. Then noting that I still held my peace\nshe cried, \"Take then one hundred: this be its full value; nay I\nknow not in very deed if my husband will consent to so high a\nprice.\" Said I in reply, \"O my good woman, why talk so foolishly?\nI will not sell it for aught less than an hundred\nthousand[FN#285] gold coins; and thou mayest take it at that\nprice but only because thou art neighbour to us.\" The Jewess\nraised her offer coin by coin to fifty thousand Ashrafis and\nsaid, \"I pray thee wait till morning and sell it not till then,\nso that my man may come round and see it.\" \"Right willingly,\"\nquoth I; \"by all manner of means let thy husband drop in and\ninspect it.\"--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her\npeace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Twenty-first Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Hasan al-\nHabbal thus continued his story.-- Next day the Jew came to my\nhouse and I drew forth and showed to him the diamond which shone\nand glittered in my palm with light as bright as any lamp's.\nPresently, assured that all which his wife had told him of its\nwater and lustre was strictly true, he took it in hand and,\nexamining it and turning it about, marvelled with mighty marvel\nat its beauty saying, \"My wife made offer of fifty thousand gold\npieces: see now I will give thee yet another twenty thousand.\"\nSaid I, \"Thy wife hath surely named to thee what sum I fixed to\nwit, one hundred thousand Ashrafis and naught less: I shall not\nabate one jot or tittle of this price.\" The Jew did all he could\nto buy it for a lesser sum; but I answered only, \"It mattereth\nnaught; an thou desire not to come to my terms I must needs sell\nit to some other jeweller.\" At length he consented and weighed me\nout two thousand gold pieces by way of earnest-money, saying,\n\"To-morrow I will bring the amount of my offer and carry off my\ndiamond.\" To this I gave assent and so, on the day following, he\ncame to me and weighed out the full sum of one hundred thousand\nAshrafis, which he had raised amongst his friends and partners in\nbusiness. Then I gave him the diamond which had brought me such\nexceeding wealth, and offered thanks to him and praises unto\nAlmighty Allah for this great good Fortune gotten unawares, and\nmuch I hoped soon to see my two friends, Sa'd and Sa'di, and to\nthank them likewise. So first I set my house in order and gave\nspending-money to my wife for home necessaries and for clothing\nherself and children; moreover, I also bought me a fine mansion\nand furnished it with the best. Then said I to my wife, who\nthought of nothing save rich clothes and high diet and a life of\nease and enjoyment, \"It behoveth us not to give up this our\ncraft: we must needs put by some coin and carry on the business.\"\nAccordingly, I went to all the rope-makers of the city and buying\nwith much money several manufactories put them to work, and over\neach establishment I set an overseer, an intelligent man and a\ntrustworthy, so that there is not now throughout Baghdad-city a\nsingle ward or quarter that hath not walks and workshops of mine\nfor rope making. Nay, further, I have in each town and every\ndistrict of Al-Irak warehouses, all under charge of honest\nsupervisors; and thus it is that I have amassed such a muchel of\nwealth. Lastly, for my own especial place of business I bought\nanother house, a ruined place with a sufficiency of land\nadjoining; and, pulling down the old shell, I edified in lieu\nthereof the new and spacious edifice which thy Highness hath\ndeigned yesterday to look upon. Here all my workmen are lodged\nand here also are kept my office-books and accounts; and besides\nmy warehouse it containeth apartments fitted with furniture in\nsimple style all sufficient for myself and my family. After some\ntime I quitted my old home, wherein Sa'd and Sa'di had seen me\nworking, and went and lived in the new mansion and not long after\nthis removal my two friends and benefactors bethought them that\nthey would come and visit me They marvelled much when, entering\nmy old workshop, they found me not, and they asked the\nneighbours, \"Where dwelleth such and such a rope-maker? Is he\nalive or dead?\" Quoth the folk \"He now is a rich merchant; and\nmen no longer call him simply 'Hasan,' but entitle him 'Master\nHasan the Rope-maker.' He hath built him a splendid building and\nhe dwelleth in such and such a quarter.\" Whereupon the two\nfamiliars set forth in search of me; and they rejoiced at the\ngood report; albeit Sa'di would by no means be convinced that all\nmy wealth had sprung (as Sa'd contended) from its root, that\nsmall leaden coin. Presently, conning the matter over in his mind\nhe said to his comrade, \"It delighteth me much to hear of all\nthis good fortune which hath betided Hasan, despite that he twice\ndeceived me and took from me four hundred gold pieces, whereby he\nhath gotten to himself these riches; for it is absurd to think\nthat it hath come from the leaden coin thou gavest him. Withal I\ndo forgive him and owe him no grudge.\" Replied the other, \"Thou\nart mistaken. I know Hasan of old to be a good man and true: he\nwould not delude thee and what he told us is simple sooth. I am\npersuaded in my mind that he hath won all his wealth and opulence\nby the leaden coin: however we shall hear anon what he may have\nto say.\" Conversing thus they came into the street wherein I now\ndwell and, seeing a large and magnificent mansion and a new made,\nthey guessed it was mine. So they knocked and, on the porter\nopening, Sa'di marvelled to see such grandeur and so many folk\nsitting within, and feared lest haply they had unwittingly\nentered the house of some Emir. Then plucking courage he enquired\nof the porter, \"Is this the dwelling place of Khwajah Hasan al-\nHabbal?\"--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazed held her peace\ntill\n\n      The end of the Six Hundred and Twenty-second Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Hasan\nal-Habbal continued thus his story:--The porter made reply, \"This\nis verily the house of Khwajah Hasan al-Habbal; he is within and\nhe sitteth in his office. I pray thee enter and one of the slaves\nwill make known thy coming to him.\" Hereupon the two friends\nwalked in, and as soon as I saw them I recognised them, and\nrising up to them I ran and kissed the hems of their garments.\nThey would fain have fallen on my neck and embraced me, but with\nmeekness of mind I would not suffer them so to do; and presently\nI led them into a large and spacious saloon, and bade them sit\nupon the highmost seats of honour. They would have constrained me\nto take the best place, but I exclaimed \"O my lords, I am on no\nwise better than the poor rope-maker Hasan, who not unmindful of\nyour worth and goodness ever prayeth for your welfare, and who\ndeserveth not to sit in higher stead than you.\" Then they took\nseat and I opposite them, when quoth Sa'di, \"My heart rejoiceth\nwith exceeding joy to see thee in this condition, for that Allah\nhath given thee all even as thou wishedst. I doubt not thou has\ngotten all this abundance and opulence by means of the four\nhundred gold pieces which I gave to thee; but say me truly\nwherefore didst thou twice deceive me and bespeak me falsely?\"\nSa'd listened to these words with silent indignation, and ere I\ncould make reply he broke out saying, \"O Sa'di, how often have I\nassured thee that all which Hasan said aforetime anent the losing\nof the Ashrafis is very sooth and no leasing?\" Then they began to\ndispute each with other; when I, recovering from my surprise,\nexclaimed, \"O my lords, of what avail is this contention? Be not\nat variance, I beseech you, on my account. All that had befallen\nme I made known to you; and, whether ye believe my words or ye\nbelieve them not, it mattereth but little. Now hearken to the\nwhole truth of my tale.\" Then I made known to them the story of\nthe piece of lead which I had given to the fisherman and of the\ndiamond found in the fish's belly; brief, I told them every whit\neven as I have now related to thy Highness. On hearing all my\nadventure Sa'di said, \"O Khwajah Hasan, it seemeth to me passing\nstrange that so great a diamond should be found in the belly of a\nfish; and I deem it a thing impossible that a kite should fly off\nwith thy turband, or that thy wife should give away the jar of\nbran in exchange for fuller's earth. Thou sayest the tale is\ntrue, still can I not give credit to thy words, for I know full\nwell that the four hundred gold pieces have gotten thee all this\nwealth.\" But when they twain rose up to take their leave, I also\narose and said, \"O my lords, ye have shown favour to me in that\nye have thus deigned visit me in my poor home. I beseech you now\nto taste of my food and to tarry here this night under your\nservant's roof; as to-morrow I would fain take you by the way of\nthe river to a country house which I have lately bought.\" Hereto\nthey consented with some objections; and I, after giving orders\nfor the evening meal, showed them about the house and displayed\nthe furniture and entertained them with pleasing words and\npleasant converse, till a slave came and announced that supper\nwas served. So I led them to the saloon wherein were ranged the\ntrays loaded with many kinds of meats; on all sides stood\ncamphorated wax candles,[FN#286] and before the table were\ngathered musicians singing and playing on various instruments of\nmirth and merriment, whilst in the upper part of the saloon men\nand women were dancing and making much diversion. When we had\nsupped we went to bed, and rising early we prayed the dawn-\nprayer, and presently embarked on a large and well-appointed\nboat, and the rowers rowing with a flowing tide soon landed us at\nmy country seat. Then we strolled in a body about the grounds and\nentered the house, when I showed them our new buildings and\ndisplayed to them all that appertained thereto; and hereat they\nmarvelled with great marvel. Thence we repaired to the garden and\nsaw, planted in rows along the walks, fruit-trees of all kinds\nwith ripe fruit bowed down, and watered with water from the river\nby means of brick-work channels. All round were flowering shrubs\nwhose perfume gladdened the Zephyr; here and there fountains and\njets of water shot high in air; and sweet-voiced birds made\nmelody amid the leafy branches hymning the One, the Eternal; in\nshort, the sights and scents on every side filled the soul with\njoy and gladness. My two friends walked about in joyance and\ndelight, and thanked me again and again for bringing them to so\nlovely a site and said, \"Almighty Allah prosper thee in house and\ngarth.\" At last I led them to the foot of a tall tree near to one\nof the garden walls and shewed them a little summer-house wherein\nI was wont to take rest and refreshment; and the room was\nfurnished with cushions and divans and pillows purfled with\nvirgin gold.--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her\npeace till\n\n       The end of The Six Hundred and Twenty-third Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Hasan al-\nHabbal thus pursued his tale:--Now so it happened that, as we sat\nat rest within that summer house, two sons of mine, whom I had\nsent together with their governor to my country place for change\nof water and air,[FN#287] were roaming about the garden seeking\nbirds' nests. Presently they came across a big one upon the top\nmost boughs and tried to swarm up the trunk and carry it off, but\nby reason of their lack of strength and little practice they\ndurst not venture so high; whereupon they bade a slave boy who\never attended on them, climb the tree. He did their bidding, but\nwhen looking into the nest he was amazed with exceeding amazement\nto see it mainly made of an old turband. So he brought down the\nstuff and handed it to the lads. My eldest son took it from his\nhands and carried it to the arbour for me to see, and set it at\nmy feet saying in high glee, \"O my father, look here; this nest\nis made of cloth.\" Sa'd and Sa'di wondered with all wonderment at\nthe sight and the marvel grew the greater when I, after\nconsidering it closely, recognised it for the very turband\nwhereon the kite had swooped and which had been borne off by the\nbird. Then quoth I to my two friends \"Examine well this turband\nand certify yourselves that it is the selfsame one worn upon my\nhead when first ye honoured me with your presence.\" Quoth Sa'd,\n\"I know it not,\" and quoth Sa'di, \"An thou find within it the\nhundred and ninety gold pieces, then shalt thou be assured that\nis thy turband in very sooth.\" I said, \"O my lord, this is, well\nI wot, that very turband.\" And as I held it in my hand, I found\nit heavy of weight, and opening out the folds felt somewhat tied\nup in one of the corners of the cloth;[FN#288] so I unrolled the\nswathes when lo and behold! I came upon the purse of gold pieces.\nHereat, shewing it to Sa'di, I cried, \"Canst thou not recognise\nthis purse?\" and he replied, \"'Tis in truth the very purse of\nAshrafis which I gave thee when first we met.\" Then I opened the\nmouth and, pouring out the gold in one heap upon the carpet, bade\nhim count his money; and he turned it over coin by coin and made\nthe sum there of one hundred and ninety Ashrafis. Hereat waxing\nsore ashamed and confounded, he exclaimed, \"Now do I believe thy\nwords: nevertheless must thou admit that thou hast earned one\nhalf of this thy prodigious wealth with the two hundred gold\npieces I gave thee after our second visit, and the other half by\nmeans of the mite thou gottest from Sa'd.\" To this I made no\nanswer, but my friends ceased not to dispute upon the matter. We\nthen sat down to meat and drink, and when we had eaten our\nsufficiency, I and my two friends went to sleep in the cool\narbour; after which when the sun was well nigh set we mounted and\nrode off to Baghdad leaving the servants to follow. However,\narrived at the city we found all the shops shut and nowhere could\nwe get grain and forage for the horses, and I sent off two slave\nboys who had run alongside of us to search for provender. One of\nthem found a jar of bran in the shop of a corn-dealer and paying\nfor the provision brought it, together with the jar, under\npromise that on the morrow he would carry back the vessel. Then\nhe began to take out the bran by handfuls in the dark and to set\nit before the horses.\u02daAnd as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad\nheld her peace till\n\n      The end of the Six Hundred and Twenty-fourth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious king, that Hasan al-\nHabbal thus continued his story:--So as the slave boy took out\nthe bran by handfuls and set it before the horses, suddenly his\nhand came upon a piece of cloth wherein was somewhat heavy. He\nbrought it to me even as he found it and said, \"See, is not this\ncloth the very one of whose loss thou hast ofttimes spoken to\nus?\" I took it and wondering with great wonder knew it was the\nself same piece of stuff wherein I had tied up the hundred and\nfour-score and ten Ashrafis before hiding them in the jar of\nbran. Then said I to my friends, \"O my lords, it hath pleased\nAlmighty Allah, ere we parted, I and you, to bear me witness of\nmy words and to stablish that I told you naught save whatso was\nvery sooth.\" And I resumed, addressing Sa'di, \"See here the other\nsum of money, that is, the hundred and ninety Ashrafis which thou\ngayest me and which I tied up in this very piece of cloth I now\nrecognise.\" Then I sent for the earthen jar that they might see\nit, and also bade carry it to my wife that she also might bear\nwitness, an it be or be not the very bran-jar which she gave in\nexchange for fuller's earth. Anon she sent us word and said, \"Yea\nverily I know it well. 'Tis the same jar which I had filled with\nbran.\" Accordingly Sa'di owned that he was wrong and said to\nS'ad, \"Now I know that thou speakest truth, and am convinced that\nwealth cometh not by wealth; but only by the grace of Almighty\nAllah doth a poor man become a rich man.\" And he begged pardon\nfor his mistrust and unbelief. We accepted his excuses whereupon\nwe retired to rest and early on the morrow my two friends bade me\nadieu and journeyed home wards with full persuasion that I had\ndone no wrong and had not squandered the moneys they had given\nme.--Now when the Caliph Harun al-Rashid had heard the story of\nKhwajah Hasan to the end, he said, \"I have known thee of old by\nfair report of thee from the folk who, one and all, declare that\nthou art a good man and true. Moreover the self same diamond\nwhereby thou hast attained to so great riches is now in my\ntreasury; so I would fain send for Sa'di forthright that he may\nsee it with his own eyes, and weet for certain that not by means\nof money do men become or rich or poor.\" The Prince of True\nBelievers said moreover to Khwajah Hasan al-Habbal, \"Go now and\ntell thy tale to my treasurer that he may take it down in writing\nfor an everlasting memorial, and place the writ in the treasury\ntogether with the diamond.\" Then the Caliph with a nod dismissed\nKhawajah Hasan; and Sidi Nu'uman and Baba Abdullah also kissed\nthe foot of the throne and departed. So when Queen Shahrazad had\nmade an end of relating this history she was about to begin the\nstory of 'All Baba and the Forty Thieves, but King Shahryar\nprevented her, saying, \"O Shahrazad I am well pleased with this\nthy tale, but now the dawn appeareth and the chanticleer of morn\ndoth sound his shrill clarion. This day also I spare thy life, to\nthe intent that I may listen at my ease to this new history of\nthine at the end of the coming night.\" Hereupon the three took\ntheir rest until the fittest time drew near.--And as the morning\nmorrowed Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Twenty-fifth Night.\n\nWith the dawn Dunyazad awoke Queen Shahrazad from slumber sweet\nand said, \"Arise, O my sister, but alas! 'tis a bitter thing to\nstand in awe of coming doom.\" Replied Shahrazad, \"O dear my\nsister, be not thou downhearted: if life's span be spent naught\ncan avert the sharp edged sword. Yet place thy trust in Allah\nAlmighty and put far from thee all such anxious thoughts: my\ntales are tokens of life prolonged.\" Whereupon Queen Shahrazad\nbegan to tell in these words the story of\n\n\n\n\n\n\n            ALI BABA AND THE FORTY THIEVES.[FN#289]\n\n\n\nIn days of yore and in times and tides long gone before there\ndwelt in a certain town of Persia two brothers one named K\u00e1sim\nand the other 'Al\u00ed B\u00e1b\u00e1, who at their father's demise had divided\nthe little wealth he had left to them with equitable division,\nand had lost no time in wasting and spending it all. The elder,\nhowever, presently took to himself a wife, the daughter of an\nopulent merchant; so that when his father-in-law fared to the\nmercy of Almighty Allah, he became owner of a large shop filled\nwith rare goods and costly wares and of a storehouse stocked with\nprecious stuffs; likewise of much gold that was buried in the\nground. Thus was he known throughout the city as a substantial\nman. But the woman whom Ali Baba had married was poor and needy;\nthey lived, therefore, in a mean hovel and Ali Baba eked out a\nscanty livelihood by the sale of fuel which he daily collected in\nthe jungle[FN#290] and carried about the town to the Bazar upon\nhis three asses. Now it chanced one day that Ali Baba had cut\ndead branches and dry fuel sufficient for his need, and had\nplaced the load upon his beasts when suddenly he espied a\ndust-cloud spireing high in air to his right and moving rapidly\ntowards him; and when he closely considered it he descried a\ntroop of horsemen riding on amain and about to reach him. At this\nsight he was sore alarmed, and fearing lest perchance they were a\nband of bandits who would slay him and drive off his donkeys, in\nhis affright he began to run; but forasmuch as they were near\nhand and he could not escape from out the forest, he drove his\nanimals laden with the fuel into a bye-way of the bushes and\nswarmed up a thick trunk of a huge tree to hide himself therein;\nand he sat upon a branch whence he could descry everything\nbeneath him whilst none below could catch a glimpse of him above;\nand that tree grew close beside a rock which towered high above\nhead. The horsemen, young, active, and doughty riders, came close\nup to the rock-face and all dismounted; whereat Ali Baba took\ngood note of them and soon he was fully persuaded by their mien\nand demeanour that they were a troop of highwaymen who, having\nfallen upon a caravan had despoiled it and carried off the spoil\nand brought their booty to this place with intent of concealing\nit safely in some cache. Moreover he observed that they were\nforty in number.--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held\nher peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Twenty-sixth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious king, that Ali Baba\nsaw the robbers, as soon as they came under the tree, each\nunbridle his horse and hobble it; then all took off their\nsaddle-bags which proved to be full of gold and silver. The man\nwho seemed to be the captain presently pushed forwards, load on\nshoulder, through thorns and thickets, till he came up to a\ncertain spot where he uttered these strange words, \"Open, O\nSimsim!\"[FN#291] and forthwith appeared a wide doorway in the\nface of the rock. The robbers went in and last of all their Chief\nand then the portal shut of itself. Long while they stayed within\nthe cave whilst Ali Baba was constrained to abide perched upon\nthe tree, re fleeting that if he came down peradventure the band\nmight issue forth that very moment and seize him and slay him. At\nlast he had determined to mount one of the horses and driving on\nhis asses to return townwards, when suddenly the portal dew open.\nThe robber-chief was first to issue forth; then, standing at the\nentrance, he saw and counted his men as they came out, and lastly\nhe spake the magical words, \"Shut, O Simsim!\" whereat the door\nclosed of itself. When all had passed muster and review, each\nslung on his saddle-bags and bridled his own horse and as soon as\nready they rode off, led by the leader, in the direction whence\nthey came. Ali Baba remained still perched on the tree and\nwatched their departure; nor would he descend until what time\nthey were clean gone out of sight, lest perchance one of them\nreturn and look around and descry him. Then he thought within\nhimself, \"I too will try the virtue of those magical words and\nsee if at my bidding the door will open and close.\" So he called\nout aloud, \"Open, O Simsim!\" And no sooner had he spoken than\nstraightway the portal flew open and he entered within. He saw a\nlarge cavern and a vaulted, in height equalling the stature of a\nfull-grown man and it was hewn in the live stone and lighted up\nwith light that came through air-holes and bullseyes in the upper\nsurface of the rock which formed the roof. He had expected to\nfind naught save outer gloom in this robbers' den, and he was\nsurprised to see the whole room filled with bales of all manner\nstuffs, and heaped up from sole to ceiling with camel-loads of\nsilks and brocades and embroidered cloths and mounds on mounds of\nvari-coloured carpetings; besides which he espied coins golden\nand silvern without measure or account, some piled upon the\nground and others bound in leathern bags and sacks. Seeing these\ngoods and moneys in such abundance, Ali Baba determined in his\nmind that not during a few years only but for many generations\nthieves must have stored their gains and spoils in this place.\nWhen he stood within the cave, its door had closed upon him, yet\nhe was not dismayed since he had kept in memory the magical\nwords; and he took no heed of the precious stuffs around him, but\napplied himself only and wholly to the sacks of Ashrafis. Of\nthese he carried out as many as he judged sufficient burthen for\nthe beasts; then he loaded them upon his animals, and covered\nthis plunder with sticks and fuel, so none might discern the\nbags, but might think that he was carrying home his usual ware.\nLastly he called out, \"Shut, O Simsim!\" and forthwith the door\nclosed, for the spell so wrought that whensoever any entered the\ncave, its portal shut of itself behind him; and, as he issued\ntherefrom, the same would neither open nor close again till he\nhad pronounced the words, \"Shut, O Simsim!\" Presently, having\nladen his asses Ali Baba urged them before him with all speed to\nthe city and reaching home he drove them into the yard; and,\nshutting close the outer door, took down first the sticks and\nafter the bags of gold which he carried in to his wife. She felt\nthem and finding them full of coin suspected that Ali Baba had\nbeen robbing and fell to berating and blaming him for that he\nshould do so ill a thing.--And as the morn began to dawn\nShahrazad held her peace till\n\n      The end of the Six Hundred and Twenty-seventh Night,\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that quoth Ali\nBaba to his wife: \"Indeed I am no robber and rather do thou\nrejoice with me at our good fortune.\" Hereupon he told her of his\nadventure and began to pour the gold from the bags in heaps\nbefore her, and her sight was dazzled by the sheen and her heart\ndelighted at his recital and adventures. Then she began counting\nthe gold, whereat quoth Ali Baba, \"O silly woman how long wilt\nthou continue turning over the coin? now let me dig a hole\nwherein to hide this treasure that none may know its secret.\"\nQuoth she, \"Right is thy rede! still would I weigh the moneys and\nhave some inkling of their amount;\" and he replied, \"As thou\npleasest\", but see thou tell no man.\" So she went of f in haste\nto Kasim's home to borrow weights and scales wherewith she might\nbalance the Ashrafis and make some reckoning of their value; and\nwhen she could not find Kasim she said to his wife, \"Lend me, I\npray thee, thy scales for a moment.\" Replied her\nsister-in-law,[FN#292] \"Hast thou need of the bigger balance or\nthe smaller?\" and the other rejoined, \"I need not the large\nscales, give me the little;\" and her sister-in-law cried, \"Stay\nhere a moment whilst I look about and find thy want.\" With this\npretext Kasim's wife went aside and secretly smeared wax and suet\nover the pan of the balance, that she might know what thing it\nwas Ali Baba's wife would weigh, for she made sure that whatso it\nbe some bit thereof would stick to the wax and fat. So the woman\ntook this opportunity to satisfy her curiosity, and Ali Baba's\nwife suspecting naught thereof carried home the scales and began\nto weigh the gold, whilst Ali Baba ceased not digging; and, when\nthe money was weighed, they twain stowed it into the hole which\nthey carefully filled up with earth. Then the good wife took back\nthe scales to her kinswoman, all unknowing that an Ashrafi had\nadhered to the cup of the scales; but when Kasim's wife espied\nthe gold coin she fumed with envy and wrath saying to herself,\n\"So ho ! they borrowed my balance to weigh out Ashrafis?\" and she\nmarvelled greatly whence so poor a man as Ali Baba had gotten\nsuch store of wealth that he should be obliged to weigh it with a\npair of scales. Now after long pondering the matter, when her\nhusband returned home at eventide, she said to him, \"O man, thou\ndeemest thyself a wight of wealth and substance, but lo, thy\nbrother Ali Baba is an Emir by the side of thee and richer far\nthan thou art. He hath such heaps of gold that he must needs\nweigh his moneys with scales, whilst thou, forsooth, art\nsatisfied to count thy coin.\" \"Whence knowest thou this?\" asked\nKasim, and in answer his wife related all anent the pair of\nscales and how she found an Ashrafi stuck to them, and shewed him\nthe gold coin which bore the mark and superscription of some\nancient king. No sleep had Kasim all that night by reason of his\nenvy and jealousy and covetise; and next morning he rose betimes\nand going to Ali Baba said, \"O my brother, to all appearance thou\nart poor and needy; but in effect thou hast a store of wealth so\nabundant that perforce thou must weigh thy gold with scales.\"\nQuoth Ali Baba, \"What is this thou sayest? I understand thee not;\nmake clear thy purport;\" and quoth Kasim with ready rage, \"Feign\nnot that thou art ignorant of what I say and think not to deceive\nme.\" Then showing him the Ashrafi he cried, \"Thousands of gold\ncoins such as these thou hast put by; and meanwhile my wife found\nthis one stuck to the cup of the scales.\" Then Ali Baba\nunderstood how both Kasim and his wife knew that he had store of\nAshrafis, and said in his mind that it would not avail him to\nkeep the matter hidden, but would rather cause ill-will and\nmischief; and thus he was induced to tell his brother every whit\nconcerning the bandits[FN#293] and also of the treasure trove in\nthe cave. When he had heard the story, Kasim exclaimed, 'I would\nfain learn of thee the certainty of the place where thou foundest\nthe moneys; also the magical words whereby the door opened and\nclosed; and I forewarn thee an thou tell me not the whole truth,\nI will give notice of those Ashrafis to the Wali;[FN#294] then\nshalt thou forfeit all thy wealth and be disgraced and thrown\ninto gaol.\" Thereupon Ali Baba told him his tale not forgetting\nthe magical words; and Kasim who kept careful heed of all these\nmatters next day set out, driving ten mules he had hired, and\nreadily found the place which Ali Baba had described to him. And\nwhen he came to the afore said rock and to the tree whereon Ali\nBaba had hidden himself and he had made sure of the door he cried\nin great joy, \"Open, O Simsim!\" The portal yawned wide at once\nand Kasim went within and saw the piles of jewels and treasures\nlying ranged all around; and, as soon as he stood amongst them\nthe door shut after him as wont to do. He walked about in ecstasy\nmarvelling at the treasures, and when weary of admiration he\ngathered together bags of Ashrafis, a sufficient load for his ten\nmules, and placed them by the entrance in readiness to be carried\noutside and set upon the beasts. But by the will of Allah\nAlmighty he had clean forgotten the cabalistic words and cried\nout, \"Open, O Barley!\" whereat the door refused to move.\nAstonished and confused beyond measure he named the names of all\nmanner of grains save sesame, which had slipped from his memory\nas though he had never heard the word; whereat in his dire\ndistress he heeded not the Ashrafis that lay heaped at the\nentrance and paced to and fro, backwards and forwards, within the\ncave sorely puzzled and perplexed. The wealth whose sight had\nerewhile filled his heart with joy and gladness was now the cause\nof bitter grief and sadness.--And as the morn began to dawn\nShahrazad held her peace till\n\n      The end of the Six Hundred and Twenty-eighth Night,\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Kasim gave\nup all hope of the life which he by his greed and envy had so\nsore imperilled. It came to pass that at noontide the robbers,\nreturning by that way, saw from afar some mules standing beside\nthe entrance and much they marvelled at what had brought the\nbeasts to that place; for, inasmuch as Kasim by mischance had\nfailed to tether or hobble them, they had strayed about the\njungle and were browsing hither and thither. However, the thieves\npaid scant regard to the estrays nor cared they to secure them,\nbut only wondered by what means they had wandered so far from the\ntown. Then, reaching the cave the Captain and his troop\ndismounted and going up to the door repeated the formula and at\nonce it flew open. Now Kasim had heard from within the cave the\nhorse hooves drawing nigh and yet nigher; and he fell down to the\nground in a fit of fear never doubting that it was the clatter of\nthe banditti who would slaughter him without fail. Howbeit he\npresently took heart of grace and at the moment when the door\nflew open he rushed out hoping to make good his escape. But the\nunhappy ran full tilt against the Captain who stood in front of\nthe band, and felled him to the ground; where upon a robber\nstanding near his chief at once bared his brand and with one cut\ncrave Kasim clean in twain. Thereupon the robbers rushed into the\ncavern, and put back as they were before the bags of Ashrafis\nwhich Kasim had heaped up at the doorway ready for taking away;\nnor recked they aught of those which Ali Baba had removed, so\ndazed and amazed were they to discover by what means the strange\nman had effected an entrance. All knew that it was not possible\nfor any to drop through the skylights so tall and steep was the\nrock's face, withal slippery of ascent; and also that none could\nenter by the portal unless he knew the magical words whereby to\nopen it. However they presently quartered the dead body of Kasim\nand hung it to the door within the cavern, two parts to the right\njamb and as many to the left[FN#295] that the sight might be a\nwarning of approaching doom for all who dared enter the cave.\nThen coming out they closed the hoard door and rode away upon\ntheir wonted work. Now when night fell and Kasim came not home,\nhis wife waxed uneasy in mind and running round to Ali Baba said,\n\"O my brother, Kasim hath not returned: thou knowest whither he\nwent, and sore I fear me some misfortune hath betided him.\" Ali\nBaba also divined that a mishap had happened to prevent his\nreturn; not the less, however, he strove to comfort his\nsister-in-law with words of cheer and said, \"O wife of my\nbrother, Kasim haply exerciseth discretion and, avoiding the\ncity, cometh by a roundabout road and will be here anon. This, I\ndo believe, is the reason why he tarrieth.\" Thereupon comforted\nin spirit Kasim's wife fared homewards and sat awaiting her\nhusband's return; but when half the night was spent and still he\ncame not, she was as one distraught. She feared to cry aloud for\nher grief, lest haply the neighbours hearing her should come and\nlearn the secret; so she wept in silence and upbraiding herself\nfell to thinking, \"Wherefore did I disclose this secret to him\nand beget envy and jealousy of Ali Baba? this be the fruit\nthereof and hence the disaster that hath come down upon me.\" She\nspent the rest of the night in bitter tears and early on the\nmorrow tried in hottest hurry to Ali Baba and prayed that he\nwould go forth in quest of his brother; so he strove to console\nher and straightway set out with his asses for the forest.\nPresently, reaching the rock he wondered to see stains of blood\nfreshly shed and not finding his brother or the ten mules he\nforefelt a calamity from so evil a sign. He then went to the door\nand saying, \"Open, O Simsim!\" he pushed in and saw the dead body\nof Kasim, two parts hanging to the right, and the rest to the\nleft of the entrance. Albeit he was affrighted beyond measure of\naffright he wrapped the quarters in two cloths and laid them upon\none of his asses, hiding them care fully with sticks and fuel\nthat none might see them. Then he placed the bags of gold upon\nthe two other animals and likewise covered them most carefully;\nand, when all was made ready he closed the cave door with the\nmagical words, and set him forth wending homewards with all ward\nand watchfulness. The asses with the load of Ashrafis he made\nover to his wife and bade her bury the bags with diligence; but\nhe told her not the condition in which he had come upon his\nbrother Kasim. Then he went with the other ass, to wit, the beast\nwhereon was laid the corpse to the widow's house and knocked\ngently at the door. Now Kasim had a slave-girl shrewd and sharp\nwitted, Morgiana[FN#296] highs. She as softly undid the bolt and\nadmitted Ali Baba and the ass into the courtyard of the house,\nwhen he let down the body from the beast's back and said, \"O\nMorgiana, haste thee and make thee ready to perform the rites for\nthe burial of thy lord: I now go to tell the tidings to thy\nmistress and I will quickly return to help thee in this matter.\"\nAt that instant Kasim's widow seeing her brother in law,\nexclaimed, \"O Ali Baba, what news bringest thou of my spouse?\nAlas, I see grief tokens written upon thy countenance. Say\nquickly what hath happened.\" Then he recounted to her how it had\nfared with her husband and how he had been slain by the robbers\nand in what wise he had brought home the dead body.--And as the\nmorn began to dawn Shahrazed held her peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Twenty-ninth Night,\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Ali Baba\npursued: \"O my lady, what was to happen hath happened but it\nbehoveth us to keep this matter secret, for that our lives depend\nupon privacy.\" She wept with sore weeping and made answer, \"It\nhath fared with my husband according to the fiat of Fate; and now\nfor thy safety's sake I give thee my word to keep the affair\nconcealed.\" He replied, \"Naught can avail when Allah hath\ndecreed. Rest thee in patience; until the days of thy\nwidow-hood[FN#297] be accomplisht\"; after which time I will take\nthee to wife, and thou shalt live in comfort and happiness; and\nfear not lest my first spouse vex thee or show aught of jealousy,\nfor that she is kindly and tender of heart.\" The widow lamenting\nher loss noisily, cried, \"Be it as e'en thou please.\" Then Ali\nBaba farewelled her, weeping and wailing for her husband; and\njoining Morgiana took counsel with her how to manage the burial\nof his brother. So, after much consultation and many warnings, he\nleft the slave-girl and departed home driving his ass before him.\nAs soon as Ali Baba had fared forth Morgiana went quickly to a\ndruggist's shop; and, that she might the better dissemble with\nhim and not make known the matter, she asked of him a drug often\nadministered to men when diseased with dangerous dis-temper. He\ngave it saying, \"Who is there in thy house that lieth so ill as\nto require this medicine?\" and said she, \"My Master Kasim is sick\nwell nigh unto death: for many days he hath nor spoken nor tasted\naught of food, so that almost we despair of his life.\" Next day\nMorgiana went again and asked the druggist for more of medicine\nand essences such as are adhibited to the sick when at door of\ndeath, that the moribund may haply rally before the last breath.\nThe man gave the potion and she taking it sighed aloud and wept,\nsaying' \"I fear me he may not have strength to drink this\ndraught: methinks all will be over with him ere I return to the\nhouse.\" Meanwhile Ali Baba was anxiously awaiting to hear sounds\nof wailing and lamentation in Kasim's home that he might at such\nsignal hasten thither and take part in the ceremonies of the\nfuneral. Early on the second day Morgiana went with veiled face\nto one B\u00e1b\u00e1 Mustaf\u00e1,[FN#298] a tailor well shotten in years whose\ncraft was to make shrouds and cerecloths; and as soon as she saw\nhim open his shop she gave him a gold piece and said, \"Do thou\nbind a bandage over thine eyes and come along with me.\" Mustafa\nmade as though he would not go, whereat Morgiana placed a second\ngold coin in his palm and entreated him to accompany her. The\ntailor presently consented for greed of gain, so tying a kerchief\ntightly over his eyes she led him by the hand to the house\nwherein lay the dead body of her master. Then, taking off the\nbandage in the darkened room she bade him sew together the\nquarters of the corpse, limb to its limb; and, casting a cloth\nupon the body, said to the tailor \"Make haste and sew a shroud\naccording to the size of this dead man and I will give thee\ntherefor yet another ducat.\" Baba Mustafa quickly made the\ncerecloth of fitting length and breadth, and Morgiana paid him\nthe promised Ashrafi; then once more bandaging his eyes led him\nback to the place whence she had brought him. After this she\nreturned hurriedly home and with the help of Ali Baba washed the\nbody in warm water and donning the shroud lay the corpse upon a\nclean place ready for burial. This done Morgiana went to the\nmosque and gave notice to an Imam[FN#299] that a funeral was\nawaiting the mourners in a certain household, and prayed that he\nwould come to read the prayers for the dead; and the Imam went\nback with her. Then four neighbours took up the bier[FN#300] and\nbore it on their shoulders and fared forth with the Imam and\nothers who were wont to give assistance at such obsequies. After\nthe funeral prayers were ended four other men carried off the\ncoffin; and Morgiana walked before it bare of head, striking her\nbreast and weeping and wailing with exceeding loud lament, whilst\nAli Baba and the neighbours came behind. In such order they\nentered the cemetery and buried him; then, leaving him to Munkar\nand Nakir[FN#301] the Questioners of the Dead all wended their\nways. Presently the women of the quarter, according to the custom\nof the city, gathered together in the house of mourning and sat\nan hour with Kasim's widow comforting and condoling, presently\nleaving her somewhat resigned and cheered. Ali Baba stayed forty\ndays at home in ceremonial lamentation for the loss of his\nbrother; so none within the town save himself and his wife\n(Kasim's widow) and Morgiana knew aught about the secret. And\nwhen the forty days of mourning were ended Ali Baba removed to\nhis own quarters all the property belonging to the deceased and\nopenly married the widow; then he appointed his nephew, his\nbrother's eldest son, who had lived a long time with a wealthy\nmerchant and was perfect of knowledge in all matters of trade,\nsuch as selling and buying, to take charge of the defunct's shop\nand to carry on the business.--And as the morn began to dawn\nShahrazad held her peace till\n\n        The end of the Six Hundred and Thirtieth Night,\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, it so chanced\none day when the robbers, as was their wont, came to the\ntreasure-cave that they marvelled exceedingly to find nor sign\nnor trace of Kasim's body whilst they observed that much of gold\nhad been carried off. Quoth the Captain, \"Now it behoveth us to\nmake enquiry in this matter; else shall we suffer much of loss\nand this our treasure, which we and our forefathers have amassed\nduring the course of many years, will little by little be wasted\nand spoiled.\" Hereto all assented and with single mind agreed\nthat he whom they had slain had knowledge of the magical words\nwhereby the door was made to open; moreover that some one beside\nhim had cognizance the spell and had carried off the body, and\nalso much of gold; wherefore they needs must make diligent\nresearch and find out who the man ever might be. They then took\ncounsel and determined that one amongst them, who should be\nsagacious and deft of wit, must don the dress of some merchant\nfrom foreign parts; then, repairing to the city he must go about\nfrom quarter to quarter and from street to street, and learn if\nany townsman had lately died and if so where he wont to dwell,\nthat with this clue they might be enabled to find the wight they\nsought. Hereat said one of the robbers, \"Grant me leave that I\nfare and find out such tidings in the town and bring thee word a;\nand if I fail of my purpose I hold my life in forfeit.\"\nAccordingly that bandit, after disguising himself by dress,\npushed at night into the town and next morning early he repaired\nto the market square and saw that none of the shops had yet been\nopened, save only that of Baba Mustafa the tailor, who thread and\nneedle in hand sat upon his working stool. The thief bade him\ngood day and said, \" 'Tis yet dark: how canst thou see to sew?\"\nSaid the tailor, \"I perceive thou art a stranger. Despite my\nyears my eyesight is so keen that only yesterday I sewed together\na dead body whilst sitting in a room quite darkened.\" Quoth the\nbandit thereupon to himself, \"I shall get somewhat of my want\nfrom this snip;\" and to secure a further clue he asked,\n\"Meseemeth thou wouldst jest with me and thou meanest that a\ncerecloth for a corpse was stitched by thee and that thy business\nis to sew shrouds.\" Answered the tailor, \"It mattereth not to\nthee: question me no more questions.\" Thereupon the robber placed\nan Ashrafi in his hand and continued, \"I desire not to discover\naught thou hidest, albeit my breast like every honest man's is\nthe grave of secrets; and this only would I learn of thee, in\nwhat house didst thou do that job? Canst thou direct me thither,\nor thyself conduct me thereto?\" The tailor took the gold with\ngreed and cried, \"I have not seen with my own eyes the way to\nthat house. A certain bondswoman led me to a place which I know\nright well and there she bandaged my eyes and guided me to some\ntenement and lastly carried me into a darkened room where lay the\ndead body dismembered. Then she unbound the kerchief and bade me\nsew together first the corpse and then the shroud, which having\ndone she again blindfolded me and led me back to the stead whence\nshe had brought me and left me there. Thou seest then I am not\nable to tell thee where thou shalt find the house.\" Quoth the\nrobber, \"Albeit thou knowest not the dwelling whereof thou\nspeakest, still canst thou take me to the place where thou wast\nblindfolded; then I will bind a kerchief over thine eyes and lead\nthee as thou west led: on this wise per chance thou mayest hit\nupon the site. An thou wilt do this favour by me, see here\nanother golden ducat is thine.\" There upon the bandit slipped a\nsecond Ashrafi into the tailor's palm, and Baba Mustafa thrust it\nwith the first into his pocket; then, leaving his shop as it was,\nhe walked to the place where Morgiana had tied the kerchief\naround his eyes, and with him went the robber who, after binding\non the bandage, led him by the hand. Baba Mustafa, who was clever\nand keen-witted, presently striking the street whereby he had\nfared with the handmaid, walked on counting step by step; then,\nhalting suddenly, he said, \"Thus far I came with her;\" and the\ntwain stopped in front of Kasim's house wherein now dwelt his\nbrother Ali Baba.--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held\nher peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Thirty-first Night,\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the robber\nthen made marks with white chalk upon the door to the end that he\nmight readily find it at some future time, and removing the\nbandage from the tailor's eyes said, \"O Baba Mustafa, I thank\nthee for this favour: and Almighty Allah guerdon thee for thy\ngoodness. Tell me now, I pray thee, who dwelleth in yonder\nhouse?\" Quoth he, \"In very sooth I wot not, for I have little\nknowledge concerning this quarter of the city;\" and the bandit,\nunderstanding that he could find no further clue from the tailor,\ndismissed him to his shop with abundant thanks, and hastened back\nto the tryst place in the jungle where the band awaited his\ncoming. Not long after it so fortuned that Morgiana, going out\nupon some errand, marvelled exceedingly at seeing the chalk-marks\nshowing white in the door; she stood awhile deep in thought and\npresently divined that some enemy had made the signs that he\nmight recognize the house and play some sleight upon her lord.\nShe therefore chalked the doors of all her neighbours in like\nmanner and kept the matter secret, never entrusting it or to\nmaster or to mistress. Meanwhile the robber told his comrades his\ntale of adventure and how he had found the clue; so the Captain\nand with him all the band went one after other by different ways\ntill they entered the city; and he who had placed the mark on Ali\nBaba's door accompanied the Chief to point out the place. He\nconducted him straightway to the house and strewing the sign\nexclaimed, \"Here dwelleth he of whom we are in search!\" But when\nthe Captain looked around him he saw that all the dwellings bore\nchalk-marks after like fashion and he wondered saying, \"By what\nmanner of means knowest thou which house of all these houses that\nbear similar signs is that whereof thou spakest?\" Hereat the\nrobber-guide was confounded beyond measure of confusion, and\ncould make no answer; then with an oath he cried, \"I did\nassuredly set a sign upon a door, but I know not whence came all\nthe marks upon the other entrances; nor can I say for a surety\nwhich it was I chalked.\" Thereupon the Captain returned to the\nmarketplace and said to his men, \"We have toiled and laboured in\nvain, nor have we found the house we went forth to seek. Return\nwe now to the forest our rendezvous: I also will fare thither.\"\nThen all trooped off and assembled together within the\ntreasure-cave; and, when the robbers had all met, the Captain\njudged him worthy of punishment who had spoken falsely and had\nled them through the city to no purpose. So he imprisoned him in\npresence of them all;[FN#302] and then said he, \"To him amongst\nyou will I show special favour who shall go to town and bring me\nintelligence whereby we may lay hands upon the plunderer of our\nproperty.\" Hereat another of the company came forward and said,\n\"I am ready to go and enquire into the case, and 'tis I who will\nbring thee to thy wish.\" The Captain after giving him presents\nand promises despatched him upon his errand; and by the decree of\nDestiny which none may gainsay, this second robber went first to\nthe house of Baba Mustafa the tailor, as had done the thief who\nhad foregone him. In like manner he also persuaded the snip with\ngifts of golden coin that he be led hood-winked and thus too he\nwas guided to Ali Baba's door. Here noting the work of his\npredecessor, he affixed to the jamb a mark with red chalk the\nbetter to distinguish it from the others whereon still showed the\nwhite. Then tried he back in stealth to his company; but Morgiana\non her part also descried the red sign on the entrance and with\nsubtle forethought marked all the others after the same fashion;\nnor told she any what she had done. Meanwhile the bandit rejoined\nhis band and vauntingly said, \"O our Captain, I have found the\nhouse and thereon put a mark whereby I shall distinguish it\nclearly from all its neighbours.\"--And as the morn began to dawn\nShahrazad held her peace till\n\n      The end of the Six Hundred and Thirty-second Night,\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Captain\ndespatched another of his men to the city and he found the place,\nbut, as aforetime, when the troop repaired thither they saw each\nand every house marked with signs of red chalk. So they returned\ndisappointed and the Captain, waxing displeased exceedingly and\ndistraught, clapped also this spy into gaol. Then said the chief\nto himself, \"Two men have failed in their endeavour and have met\ntheir rightful meed of punishment; and I trow that none other of\nmy band will essay to follow up their research; so I myself will\ngo and find the house of this wight.\" Accordingly he fared along\nand aided by the tailor Baba Mustafa, who had gained much gain of\ngolden pieces in this matter, he hit upon the house of Ali Baba;\nand here he made no outward show or sign, but marked it on the\ntablet[FN#303] of his heart and impressed the picture upon the\npage of his memory. Then returning to the jungle he said to his\nmen, \"I have full cognizance of the place and have limned it\nclearly in my mind; so now there will be no difficulty in finding\nit. Go forth straightways and buy me and bring hither nineteen\nmules together with one large leathern jar of mustard oil and\nseven and thirty vessels of the same kind clean empty. Without me\nand the two locked up in gaol ye number thirty-seven souls; so I\nwill stow you away armed and accoutred each within his jar and\nwill load two upon each mule, and upon the nineteenth mule there\nshall be a man in an empty jar on one side, and on the other the\njar full of oil. I for my part, in guise of an oil-merchant, will\ndrive the mules into the town, arriving at the house by night,\nand will ask permission of its master to tarry there until\nmorning. After this we shall seek occasion during the dark hours\nto rise up and fall upon him and slay him.\" Furthermore the\nCaptain spake saying, \"When we have made an end of him we shall\nrecover the gold and treasure whereof he robbed us and bring it\nback upon the mules.\" This counsel pleased the robbers who went\nforthwith and purchased mules and huge leathern jars, and did as\nthe Captain had bidden them. And after a delay of three days\nshortly before nightfall they arose; and over smearing all the\njars with oil of mustard, each hid him inside an empty vessel.\nThe Chief then disguised himself in trader's gear and placed the\njars upon the nineteen mules; to wit, the thirty-seven vessels in\neach of which lay a robber armed and accoutred, and the one that\nwas full of oil. This done, he drove the beasts before him and\npresently he reached Ali Baba's place at nightfall; when it\nchanced that the house-master was strolling after supper to and\nfro in front of his home. The Captain saluted him with the salam\nand said, \"I come from such and such a village with oil; and\nofttimes have I been here a selling oil, but now to my grief I\nhave arrived too late and I am sore troubled and perplexed as to\nwhere I shall spend the night. An thou have pity on me I pray\nthee grant that I tarry here in thy court yard and ease the mules\nby taking down the jars and giving the beasts somewhat of\nfodder.\" Albeit Ali Baba had heard the Captain's voice when\nperched upon the tree and had seen him enter the cave, yet by\nreason of the disguise he knew him not for the leader of the\nthieves, and granted his request with hearty welcome and gave him\nfull license to halt there for the night. He then pointed out an\nempty shed wherein to tether the mules and bade one of the\nslave-boys go fetch grain and water. He also gave orders to the\nslave-girl Morgiana saying,\" A guest hath come hither and\ntarrieth here to night. Do thou busy thyself with all speed about\nhis supper and make ready the guest bed for him.\" Presently, when\nthe Captain had let down all the jars and had fed and watered his\nmules, Ali Baba received him with all courtesy and kindness, and\nsummoning Morgiana said in his presence, \"See thou fail not in\nservice of this our stranger nor suffer him to lack for aught.\nTo-morrow early I would fare to the Hammam and bathe; so do thou\ngive my slave-boy Abdullah a suit of clean white clothes which I\nmay put on after washing; moreover make thee ready a somewhat of\nbroth overnight that I may drink it after my return home.\"\nReplied she, \"I will have all in readiness as thou hast bidden.\"\nSo Ali Baba retired to his rest, and the Captain, having supped,\nrepaired to the shed and saw that all the mules had their food\nand drink for the night.--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad\nheld her peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Thirty-third Night,\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the\nCaptain, after seeing to the mules and the jars which Ali Baba\nand his household held to be full of oil, finding utter privacy,\nwhispered to his men who were in ambush, \"This night at midnight\nwhen ye hear my voice, do you quickly open with your sharp knives\nthe leathern jars from top to bottom and issue forth without\ndelay.\" Then passing through the kitchen he reached the chamber\nwherein a bed had been dispread for him, Morgiana showing the way\nwith a lamp. Quoth she, \"An thou need aught beside I pray thee\ncommand this thy slave who is ever ready to obey thy say!\" He\nmade answer, \"Naught else need I;\" then, putting out the light,\nhe lay him down on the bed to sleep awhile ere the time came to\nrouse his men and finish off the work. Meanwhile Morgiana did as\nher master had bidden her: she first took out a suit of clean\nwhite clothes and made it over to Abdullah who had not yet gone\nto rest; then she placed the pipkin upon the hearth to boil the\nbroth and blew the fire till it burnt briskly. After a short\ndelay she needs must see an the broth be boiling, but by that\ntime all the lamps had gone out and she found that the oil was\nspent and that nowhere could she get a light. The slave-boy\nAbdullah observed that she was troubled and perplexed hereat, and\nquoth he to her, \"Why make so much ado? In yonder shed are many\njars of oil: go now and take as much soever as thou listest.\"\nMorgiana gave thanks to him for his suggestion; and Abdullah, who\nwas lying at his ease in the hall, went off to sleep so that he\nmight wake betimes and serve Ali Baba in the bath. So the\nhand-maiden rose[FN#304] and with oil-can in hand walked to the\nshed where stood the leathern jars all ranged in rows. Now, as\nshe drew nigh unto one of the vessels, the thief who was hidden\ntherein hearing the tread of footsteps bethought him that it was\nof his Captain whose summons he awaited; so he whispered, \"Is it\nnow time for us to sally forth?\" Morgiana started back affrighted\nat the sound of human accents; but, inasmuch as she was bold and\nready of wit, she replied, \"The time is not yet come,\" and said\nto herself, These jars are not full of oil and herein I perceive\na manner of mystery. Haply the oil-merchant hatcheth some\ntreacherous plot against my lord; so Allah, the Compassionating,\nthe Compassionate, protect us from his snares!\" Wherefore she\nanswered in a voice made like to the Captain's, \"Not yet, the\ntime is not come. Then she went to the next jar and returned the\nsame reply to him who was within, and so on to all the vessels\none by one. Then said she in herself, \"Laud to the Lord! my\nmaster took this fellow in believing him to be an oil-merchant,\nbut lo, he hath admitted a band of robbers, who only await the\nsignal to fall upon him and plunder the place and do him die.\"\nThen passed she on to the furthest jar and finding it brimming\nwith oil, filled her can, and returning to the kitchen, trimmed\nthe lamp and lit the wicks; then, bringing forth a large\ncauldron, she set it upon the fire, and filling it with oil from\nout the jar heaped wood upon the hearth and fanned it to a fierce\nflame the readier to boil its contents. When this was done she\nbaled it out in potfuls and poured it seething hot into the\nleathern vessels one by one while the thieves unable to escape\nwere scalded to death and every jar contained a corpse.[FN#305]\nThus did this slave-girl by her subtle wit make a clean end of\nall noiselessly and unknown even to the dwellers in the house.\nNow when she had satisfied herself that each and every of the men\nhad been slain, she went back to the kitchen and shutting to the\ndoor sat brewing Ali Baba's broth. Scarce had an hour passed\nbefore the Captain woke from sleep; and, opening wide his window,\nsaw that all was dark and silent; so he clapped his hands as a\nsignal for his men to come forth but not a sound was heard in\nreturn. After awhile he clapped again and called aloud but got no\nanswer; and when he cried out a third time without reply he was\nperplexed and went out to the shed wherein stood the jars. He\nthought to himself, \"Perchance all are fallen asleep whenas the\ntime for action is now at hand, so I must e'en awaken them\nwithout stay or delay.\" Then approaching the nearest jar he was\nstartled by a smell of oil and seething flesh; and touching it\noutside he felt it reeking hot; then going to the others one by\none, he found all in like condition. Hereat he knew for a surety\nthe fate which had betided his band and, fearing for his own\nsafety, he clomb on to the wall, and thence dropping into a\ngarden made his escape in high dudgeon and sore disappointment.\nMorgiana awaited awhile to see the Captain return from the shed\nbut he came not; whereat she knew that he had scaled the wall and\nhad taken to flight, for that the street-door was double locked;\nand the thieves being all disposed of on this wise Morgiana laid\nher down to sleep in perfect solace and ease of mind. When two\nhours of darkness yet remained, Ali Baba awoke and went to the\nHammam knowing naught of the night adventure, for the gallant\nslave-girl had not aroused him, nor indeed had she deemed such\naction expedient, because had she sought an opportunity of\nreporting to him her plan, she might haply have lost her chance\nand spoiled the project. The sun was high over the horizon when\nAli Baba walked back from the Baths; and he marvelled exceedingly\nto see the jars still standing under the shed and said, \"How\ncometh it that he, the oil-merchant my guest, hath not carried to\nthe market his mules and jars of oil?\"--And as the morn began to\ndawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n      The end of the Six Hundred ante Thirty-fourth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Ali Baba\npresently asked Morgiana what had befallen the oil-merchant his\nguest whom he had placed under her charge; and she answered,\n\"Allah Almighty vouchsafe to thee six score years and ten of\nsafety! I will tell thee in privacy of this merchant.\" So Ali\nBaba went apart with his slave-girl, who taking him with out the\nhouse first locked the court-door; then showing him a jar she\nsaid, \"Prithee look into this and see if within there be oil or\naught else.\" Thereupon peering inside it he perceived a man at\nwhich sight he cried aloud and fain would have fled in his\nfright. Quoth Morgiana, \"Pear him not, this man hath no longer\nthe force to work thee harm, he lieth dead and stone dead.\"\nHearing such words of comfort and reassurance Ali Baba asked \"O\nMorgiana, what evils have we escaped and by what means hath this\nwretch become the quarry of Fate?\" She answered \"Alhamdolillah\n\u02daPraise be to Almighty Allah!\u02da I will inform thee fully of the\ncase; but hush thee, speak not aloud, lest haply the neighbours\nlearn the secret and it end in our confusion. Look now into all\nthe jars, one by one from first to last.\" So Ali Baba examined\nthem severally and found in each a man fully armed and accoutred\nand all lay scalded to death. Hereat speechless for sheer\namazement he stared at the jars, but presently re covering\nhimself he asked, \"And where is he, the oil-merchant?\" Answered\nshe, \"Of him also I will inform thee. The villain was no trader\nbut a traitorous assassin whose honied words would have ensnared\nthee to thy doom; and now I will tell thee what he was and what\nhath happened; but, meanwhile thou art fresh from the Hammam and\nthou shouldst first drink somewhat of this broth for thy\nstomach's and thy health's sake.\" So Ali Baba went within and\nMorgiana served up the mess; after which quoth her master, \"I\nfain would hear this wondrous story: prithee tell it to me and\nset my heart at ease.\" Hereat the handmaid fell to relating\nwhatso had betided in these words, \"O my master, when thou badest\nme boil the broth and retiredst to rest, thy slave in obedience\nto thy command took out a suit of clean white clothes and gave it\nto the boy Abdullah; then kindled the fire and set on the broth.\nAs soon as it was ready I had need to light a lamp so that I\nmight see to skim it, but all the oil was spent, and, learning\nthis I told my want to the slave-boy Abdullah, who advised me to\ndraw somewhat from the jars which stood under the shed.\nAccordingly, I took a can and went to the first vessel when\nsuddenly I heard a voice within whisper with all caution, 'Is it\nnow time for us to sally forth?' I was amazed thereat and judged\nthat the pretended merchant had laid some plot to slay thee; so I\nreplied, 'The time is not yet come.' Then I went to the second\njar and heard another voice to which I made the like answer, and\nso on with all of them. I now was certified that these men\nawaited only some signal from their Chief whom thou didst take to\nguest within thy walls supposing him to be a merchant in oil; and\nthat after thou receivedst him hospitably the miscreant had\nbrought these men to murther thee and to plunder thy good and\nspoil thy house. But I gave him no opportunity to win his wish.\nThe last jar I found full of oil and taking somewhat therefrom I\nlit the lamp; then, putting a large cauldron upon the fire, I\nfilled it up with oil which I brought from the jar and made a\nfierce blaze under it; and, when the contents were seething hot,\nI took out sundry cansful with intent to scald them all to death,\nand going to each jar in due order, I poured within them one by\none boiling oil. On this wise having destroyed them utterly, I\nreturned to the kitchen and having extinguished the lamps stood\nby the window watching what might happen, and how that false\nmerchant would act next. Not long after I had taken my station,\nthe robber captain awoke and oft-times signalled to his thieves.\nThen getting no reply he came downstairs and went out to the\njars, and finding that all his men were slain he fled through the\ndarkness I know not whither. So when he had clean disappeared I\nwas assured that, the door being double locked, he had scaled the\nwall and dropped into the garden and made his escape. Then with\nmy heart at rest I slept.\" And Morgiana, after telling her story\nto her master, presently added, \"This is the whole truth I have\nrelated to thee. For some days indeed have I had inkling of such\nmatter, but withheld it from thee deeming it inexpedient to risk\nthe chance of its meeting the neighbours' ears; now, however,\nthere is no help but to tell thee thereof. One day as I came to\nthe house-door I espied thereon a white chalk-mark, and on the\nnext day a red sign beside the white. I knew not the intent\nwherewith the marks were made, nevertheless I set others upon the\nentrances of sundry neighbours, judging that some enemy had done\nthis deed whereby to encompass my master's destruction. Therefore\nI made the marks on all the other doors in such perfect\nconformity with those I found, that it would be hard to\ndistinguish amongst them.\"--And as the morn began to dawn\nShahrazad held her peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Thirty-fifth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Morgiana\ncontinued to Ali Baba: \"Judge now and see if these signs and all\nthis villainy be not the work of the bandits of the forest, who\nmarked our house that on such wise they might know it again. Of\nthese forty thieves there yet remain two others concerning whose\ncase I know naught; so beware of them, but chiefly of the third\nremaining robber, their Captain, who fled hence alive. Take good\nheed and be thou cautious of him, for, shouldst thou fall into\nhis hands, he will in no wise spare thee but will surely murther\nthee. I will do all that lieth in me to save from hurt and harm\nthy life and property, nor shall thy slave be found wanting in\nany service to my lord.\" Hearing these words Ali Baba rejoiced\nwith exceeding joyance and said to her, \"I am well pleased with\nthee for this thy conduct; and say me what wouldst thou have me\ndo in thy behalf; I shall not fail to remember thy brave deed so\nlong as breath in me remaineth.\" Quoth she, \"It behoveth us\nbefore all things forthright to bury these bodies in the ground,\nthat so the secret be not known to any one.\" Hereupon Ali Baba\ntook with him his slave-boy Abdullah into the garden and there\nunder a tree they dug for the corpses of the thieves a deep pit\nin size proportionate to its contents, and they dragged the\nbodies (having carried off their weapons) to the fosse and threw\nthem in; then, covering up the remains of the seven and thirty\nrobbers they made the ground appear level and clean as it wont to\nbe. They also hid the leathern jars and the gear and arms and\npresently Ali Baba sent the mules by ones and twos to the bazar\nand sold them all with the able aid of his slave-boy Abdullah.\nThus the matter was hushed up nor did it reach the ears of any;\nAli Baba ceased not to be ill at ease lest haply the Captain or\nthe surviving two robbers should wreak their vengeance on his\nhead. He kept himself private with all caution and took heed that\nnone learn a word of what happened and of the wealth which he had\ncarried off from the bandits' cave. Meanwhile the Captain of the\nthieves having escaped with his life, fled to the forest in hot\nwrath and sore irk of mind, and his senses were scattered and the\ncolour of his visage vanished like ascending smoke. Then he\nthought the matter over again and again, and at last he firmly\nresolved that he needs must take the life of Ali Baba, else he\nwould lose all the treasure which his enemy, by knowledge of the\nmagical words, would take away and turn to his own use.\nFurthermore, he determined that he would undertake the business\nsinglehanded; and, that after getting rid of Ali Baba, he would\ngather together another band of banditti and would pursue his\ncareer of brigandage, as indeed his forbears had done for many\ngenerations. So he lay down to rest that night, and rising early\nin the morning donned a dress of suitable appearance; then going\nto the city alighted at a caravanserai, thinking to himself,\n\"Doubtless the murther of so many men hath reached the Wali's\nears, and Ali Baba hath been seized and brought to justice, and\nhis house is levelled and his good is confiscated. The townfolk\nmust surely have heard tidings of these matters.\" So he\nstraightway asked of the keeper of the Khan, \"What strange things\nhave happened in the city during the last few days?\" and the\nother told him all that he had seen and heard, but the Captain\ncould not learn a whit of that which most concerned him. Hereby\nhe understood that Ali Baba was ware and wise, and that he had\nnot only carried away such store of treasure but he had also\ndestroyed so many lives and withal had come off scatheless;\nfurthermore, that he himself must needs have all his wits alert\nnot to fall into the hands of his foe and perish. With this\nresolve the Captain hired a shop in the Bazar, whither he bore\nwhole bales of the finest stuffs and goodly merchandise from his\nforest treasure house; and presently he took his seat within the\nstore and fell to doing merchant's business. By chance his place\nfronted the booth of the defunct Kasim where his son, Ali Baba's\nnephew, now traded; and the Captain, who called himself Khwajah\nHasan, soon formed acquaintance and friendship with the shop\nkeepers around about him and treated all with profuse civilities,\nbut he was especially gracious and cordial to the son of Kasim, a\nhandsome youth and a well-dressed, and oft-times he would sit and\nchat with him for a long while. A few days after it chanced that\nAli Baba, as he was sometimes wont to do, came to see his nephew,\nwhom he found sitting in his shop. The Captain saw and recognised\nhim at sight and one morning he asked the young man, saying,\n\"Prithee tell me, who is he that ever and anon cometh to thee at\nthy place of sale?\" whereto the youth made answer, \"He is my\nuncle, the brother of my father.\" Whereupon the Captain showed\nhim yet greater favour and affection the better to deceive him\nfor his own devices, and gave him presents and made him sit at\nmeat with him and fed him with the daintiest of dishes. Presently\nAli Baba's nephew bethought him it was only right and proper that\nhe also should invite the merchant to supper, but whereas his own\nhouse was small, and he was straitened for room and could not\nmake a show of splendour, as did Khwajah Hasan, he took counsel\nwith his uncle on the matter.--And as the morn began to dawn\nShahrazad held her peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Thirty-sixth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Ali Baba\nreplied to his nephew: \"Thou sayest well: it behoveth thee to\nentreat thy friend in fairest fashion even as he hath entreated\nthee. On the morrow, which is Friday, shut thy shop as do all\nmerchants of repute; then, after the early meal, take Khwajah\nHasan to smell the air,[FN#306] and as thou walkest lead him\nhither unawares; meanwhile I will give orders that Morgiana shall\nmake ready for his coming the best of viands and all necesseries\nfor a feast. Trouble not thyself on any wise, but leave the\nmatter in my hands.\" Accordingly on the next day, to wit, Friday,\nthe nephew of Ali Baba took Khwajah Hasan to walk about the\ngarden; and, as they were returning he led him by the street\nwherein his uncle dwelt. When they came to the house the youth\nstopped at the door and knocking said, \"O my lord, this is my\nsecond home: my uncle hath heard much of thee and of thy goodness\nme-wards and desireth with exceeding desire to see thee; so,\nshouldst thou consent to enter and visit him, I shall be truly\nglad and thankful to thee.\" Albeit Khwajah Hasan rejoiced in\nheart that he had thus found means whereby he might have access\nto his enemy's house and household, and although he hoped soon to\nattain his end by treachery, yet he hesitated to enter in and\nstood to make his excuses and walk away But when the door was\nopened by the slave-porter, Ali Baba's nephew seized his\ncompanion's hand and after abundant persuasion led him in,\nwhereat he entered with great show of cheerfulness as though much\npleased and honoured. The house-master received him with all\nfavour and worship and asked him of his welfare, and said to him\n\"O my lord, I am obliged and thankful to thee for that thou hast\nstrewn favour to the son of my brother and I perceive that thou\nregardest him with an affection even fonder than my own.\" Khwajah\nHasan replied with pleasant words and said, \"Thy nephew vastly\ntaketh my fancy and in him I am well pleased, for that although\nyoung in years yet he hath been endued by Allah with much of\nwisdom.\" Thus they twain conversed with friendly conversation and\npresently the guest rose to depart and said, \"O my lord, thy\nslave must now farewell thee; but on some future day--Inshallah\nhe will again wait upon thee.\" Ali Baba, however, would not let\nhim leave and asked, \"Whither wendest thou, O my friend? I would\ninvite thee to my table and I pray thee sit at meat with us and\nafter hie thee home in peace. Perchance the dishes are not as\ndelicate as those whereof thou art wont to eat, still deign grant\nme this request I pray thee and refresh thyself with my victual.\"\nQuoth Khwajah Hasan, \"O my lord I am beholden to thee for thy\ngracious invitation, and with pleasure would I sit at meat with\nthee, but for a special reason must I needs excuse myself; suffer\nme therefore to depart for I may not tarry longer nor accept thy\ngracious offer.\" Hereto the host made reply, \"I pray thee, O my\nlord, tell me what may be the reason so urgent and weighty?\" And\nKhwajah Hasan answered, \"The cause is this: I must not, by order\nof the physician, who cured me lately of my complaint, eat aught\nof food prepared with salt.\" Quoth Ali Baba, \"An this be all,\ndeprive me not, I pray thee, of the honour thy company will\nconfer upon me: as the meats are not yet cooked, I will forbid\nthe kitchener to make use of any salt. Tarry here awhile and I\nwill return anon to thee.\" So saying Ali Baba went in to Morgiana\nand bade her not put salt into any one of the dishes; and she,\nwhile busied with her cooking, fell to marvelling greatly at such\norder and asked her master, \"Who is he that eateth meat wherein\nis no salt?\" He answered, \"What to thee mattereth it who he may\nbe? only do thou my bidding.\" She rejoined, \" 'Tis well: all\nshall be as thou wishest;\" but in mind she wondered at the man\nwho made such strange request and desired much to look upon him.\nWherefore, when all the meats were ready for serving up, she\nhelped the slave-boy Abdullah to spread the table and set on the\nmeal; and no sooner did she see Khwajah Hasan than she knew who\nhe was, albeit he had disguised himself in the dress of a\nstranger merchant; furthermore, when she eyed him attentively she\nespied a dagger hidden under his robe. \"So ho!\" quoth she to\nherself, \"this is the cause why the villain eateth not of salt,\nfor that he seeketh an opportunity to slay my master whose mortal\nenemy he is; howbeit I will be beforehand with him and despatch\nhim ere he find a chance to harm my lord.\"--And as the morn began\nto dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n      The end of the Six Hundred and Thirty-seventh Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Morgiana,\nhaving spread a white cloth upon the table and served up the\nmeal, went back to the kitchen and thought out her plot against\nthe robber Captain. Now when Ali Baba and Khwajah Hasan had eaten\ntheir sufficiency, the slave-boy Abdullah brought Morgiana word\nto serve the dessert, and she cleared the table and set on fruit\nfresh and dried in salvers, then she placed by the side of Ali\nBaba a small tripod for three cups with a flagon of wine, and\nlastly she went off with the slave-boy Abdullah into another\nroom, as though she would herself eat supper. Then Khwajah Hasan,\nthat is, the Captain of the robbers, perceiving that the coast\nwas clear, exulted mightily saying to himself, \"The time hath\ncome for me to take full vengeance; with one thrust of my dagger\nI will despatch this fellow, then escape across the garden and\nwend my ways. His nephew will not adventure to stay my hand, for\nan he do but move a finger or toe with that intent another stab\nwill settle his earthly account. Still must I wait awhile until\nthe slave-boy and the cook-maid shall have eaten and lain down to\nrest them in the kitchen.\" Morgiana, however, watched him\nwistfully and divining his purpose said in her mind, \"I must not\nallow this villain advantage over my lord, but by some means I\nmust make void his project and at once put an end to the life of\nhim.\" Accordingly, the trusty slave-girl changed her dress with\nall haste and donned such clothes as dancers wear; she veiled her\nface with a costly kerchief; around her head she bound a fine\nturband, and about her middle she tied a waist cloth worked with\ngold and silver wherein she stuck a dagger, whose hilt was rich\nin filigree and jewelry. Thus disguised she said to the slave-boy\nAbdullah, \"Take now thy tambourine that we may play and sing and\ndance in honour of our master's guest.\" So he did her bidding and\nthe twain went into the room, the lad playing and the lass\nfollowing. Then, making a low cong\u2044e, they asked leave to perform\nand disport and play; and Ali Baba gave permission, saying,\n\"Dance now and do your best that this our guest may be mirthful\nand merry.\" Quoth Khwajah Hasan, \"O my lord, thou dost indeed\nprovide much pleasant entertainment.\" Then the slave-boy Abdullah\nstanding by began to strike the tambourine whilst Morgiana rose\nup and showed her perfect art and pleased them vastly with\ngraceful steps and sportive motion; and suddenly drawing the\nponiard from her belt she brandished it and paced from side to\nside, a spectacle which pleased them most of all. At times also\nshe stood before them, now clapping the sharp-edged dagger under\nher armpit and then setting it against her breast. Lastly she\ntook the tambourine from the slave-boy Abdullah, and still\nholding the poniard in her right she went round for largesse as\nis the custom amongst merry makers. First she stood before Ali\nBaba who threw a gold coin into the tambourine, and his nephew\nlikewise put in an Ashrafi; then Khwajah Hasan, seeing her about\nto approach him, fell to pulling out his purse, when she\nheartened her heart and quick as the blinding levee she plunged\nthe dagger into his vitals, and forthwith the miscreant fell back\nstone dead. Ali Baba was dismayed and cried in his wrath, \"O\nunhappy, what is this deed thou hast done to bring about my\nruin!\" But she replied, \"Nay, O my lord, rather to save thee and\nnot to cause thee harm have I slain this man: loosen his garments\nand see what thou wilt discover thereunder.\" So Ali Baba searched\nthe dead man's dress and found concealed therein a dagger. Then\nsaid Morgiana, \"This wretch was thy deadly enemy. Consider him\nwell: he is none other than the oil-merchant, the Captain of the\nband of robbers. Whenas he came hither with intent to take thy\nlife, he would not eat thy salt; and when thou toldest me that he\nwished not any in the meat I suspected him and at first sight I\nwas assured that he would surely do thee die; Almighty Allah be\npraised 'tis even as I thought.\" Then Ali Baba lavished upon her\nthanks and expressions of gratitude, saying, \"Lo, these two times\nhast thou saved me from his hand,\" and falling upon her neck he\ncried, \"See thou art free, and as reward for this thy fealty I\nhave wedded thee to my nephew.\" Then turning to the youth he\nsaid, \"Do as I bid thee and thou shalt prosper. I would that thou\nmarry Morgiana, who is a model of duty and loyalty: thou seest\nnow yon Khwajah Hasan sought thy friendship only that he might\nfind opportunity to take my life, but this maiden with her good\nsense and her wisdom hath slain him and saved us.\" And as the\nmorn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n      The end of the Six Hundred and Thirty-eighth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Ali Baba's\nnephew straightway consented to marry Morgiana. After which the\nthree, raising the dead body bore it forth with all heed and\nvigilance and privily buried it in the garden, and for many years\nno one knew aught thereof. In due time Ali Baba married his\nbrother's son to Morgiana with great pomp, and spread a\nbride-feast in most sumptuous fashion for his friends and\nneighbours, and made merry with them and enjoyed singing and all\nmanner of dancing and amusements. He prospered in every\nundertaking and Time smiled upon him and a new source of wealth\nwas opened to him. For fear of the thieves he had not once\nvisited the jungle-cave wherein lay the treasure, since the day\nhe had carried forth the corpse of his brother Kasim. But some\ntime after, he mounted his hackney one morning and journeyed\nthither, with all care and caution, till finding no signs of man\nor horse, and reassured in his mind he ventured to draw near the\ndoor. Then alighting from his beast he tied it up to a tree, and\ngoing to the entrance pronounced the words which he had not\nforgotten, \"Open, O Simsim!\" Hereat, as was its wont, the door\nflew open, and entering thereby he saw the goods and hoard of\ngold and silver untouched and lying as he had left them. So he\nfelt assured that not one of all the thieves remained alive, and,\nthat save himself there was not a soul who knew the secret of the\nplace. At once he bound in his saddle-cloth a load of Ashrafis\nsuch as his horse could bear and brought it home; and in after\ndays he showed the hoard to his sons and sons' sons and taught\nthem how the door could be caused to open and shut. Thus Ali Baba\nand his household lived all their lives in wealth and joyance in\nthat city where erst he had been a pauper, and by the blessing of\nthat secret treasure he rose to high degree and dignities.--And\nas the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and thirty-ninth Night.\n\nThen by the command of King Shahryar Queen Shahrazad began to\ntell in these words the story of\n\n\n\n\n\n            ALI KHWAJAH AND THE MERCHANT OF BAGHDAD\n\n\n\nUnder the reign of Caliph Harun al-Rashid there dwelt in the city\nof Baghdad a certain merchant, 'Al\u00ed Khw\u00e1jah hight, who had a\nsmall stock of goods wherewith he bought and sold and made a bare\nlivelihood, abiding alone and without a family in the house of\nher forbears.  Now so it came to pass that each night for three\nnights together he saw in a vision a venerable Shaykh who bespake\nhim thus, \"Thou art beholden to make a pilgrimage to Meccah; why\nabidest thou sunk in heedless slumber and farest not forth as it\nbehoveth thee?\"[FN#307]  Hearing these words he became sore\nstartled and affrighted, so that he sold shop and goods and all\nthat he had; and, with firm intent to visit the Holy House of\nAlmighty Allah, he let his home on hire and joined a caravan that\nwas journeying to Meccah the Magnified.  But ere he left his\nnatal city he placed a thousand gold pieces, which were over and\nabove his need for the journey, within an earthen jar filled up\nwith As\u00e1f\u00edr\u00ed[FN#308] or Sparrow-olives; and, having made fast the\nmouth thereof, he carried the jar to a merchant-friend of many\nyears standing and said, \"Belike, O my brother, thou hast heard\ntell that I purpose going with a caravan on pilgrimage to Meccah,\nthe Holy City; so I have brought a jar of olives the which, I\npray thee, preserve for me in trust against my return.\"  The\nmerchant at once arose and handing the key of his warehouse to\nAli Khwajah said, \"Here, take the key and open the store and\ntherein place the jar anywhere thou choosest, and when thou shalt\ncome back thou wilt find it even as thou leftest it.\"  Hereupon\nAli Khwajah did his friend's bidding and locking up the door\nreturned the key to its master.  Then loading his travelling\ngoods upon a dromedary and mounting a second beast he fared forth\nwith the caravan.  They came at length to Meccah the Magnified,\nand it was the month Z\u00fa al-Hijjah wherein myriads of Moslems hie\nthither on pilgrimage and pray and prostrate before the Ka'abah-\ntemple.  And when he had circuited the Holy House and fulfilled\nall the rites and ceremonies required of palmers, he set up a\nshop for sale of merchandise.[FN#309]  By chance two merchants\npassing along that street espied the fine stuffs and goods in Ali\nKhwajah's booth and approved much of them and praised their\nbeauty and excellence.  Presently quoth one to other, \"This man\nbringeth here most rare and costly goods:  now in Cairo, the\ncapital of Egypt-land would he get full value for them, and far\nmore than in the markets of this city.\"  Hearing mention of\nCairo, Ali Khwajah conceived a sore longing to visit that famous\ncapital, so he gave up his intent of return Baghdad-wards and\npurposed wayfaring to Egypt.  Accordingly he joined a caravan and\narriving thither was well-pleased with the place, both country\nand city; and selling his merchandise he made great gain\ntherefrom.  Then buying other goods and stuffs he purposed to\nmake Damascus; but for one full month he tarried at Cairo and\nvisited her sanctuaries and saintly places and after leaving her\nwalls he solaced himself with seeing many famous cities distant\nseveral days' journey from the capital along the banks of the\nRiver Nilus.  Presently, bidding adieu to Egypt he arrived at the\nSanctified House,[FN#310] Jerusalem and prayed in the Temple of\nBanu Isra'\u00edl which the Moslems had re-edified.  In due time he\nreached Damascus and observed that the city was well builded and\nmuch peopled, and that the fields and meads were well-watered\nwith springs and channels and that the gardens and vergiers were\nladen with flowers and fruits.  Amid such delights Ali Khwajah\nhardly thought of Baghdad; withal he ceased not to pursue his\njourney through Aleppo, Mosul and Shir\u00e1z, tarrying some time at\nall of these towns, especially at Shir\u00e1z, till at length after\nseven years of wayfaring he came back to Baghdad.--And as the\nmorn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n         The end of the Six Hundred and Fortieth Night.\n\nThen said she:--It behoveth thee now, O auspicious King, to hear\nof the Baghdad merchant and his lack of probity.  For seven long\nyears he never once thought of Ali Khwajah or of the trust\ncommitted to his charge; till one day as his wife sat at meat\nwith him at the evening meal, their talk by chance was of olives.\nQuoth she to him, \"I would now fain have some that I may eat of\nthem;\" and quoth he, \"As thou speakest thereof I bethink me of\nthat Ali Khwajah who seven years ago fared on a pilgrimage to\nMeccah, and ere he went left in trust with me a jar of Sparrow-\nolives which still cumbereth the store-house.  Who knoweth where\nhe is or what hath betided him?  A man who lately returned with\nthe Hajj-caravan brought me word that Ali Khwajah had quitted\nMeccah the Magnified with intent to journey on to Egypt.  Allah\nAlmighty alone knoweth an he be still alive or he be now dead;\nhowever, if his olives be in good condition I will go bring some\nhither that we may taste them: so give me a platter and a lamp\nthat I may fetch thee somewhat of them.\"  His wife, an honest\nwoman and an upright, made answer, \"Allah forbid that thou\nshouldst do a deed so base and break thy word and covenant.  Who\ncan tell?  Thou art not assured by any of his death; perchance he\nmay come back from Egypt safe and sound tomorrow or the day\nafter; then wilt thou, an thou cannot deliver unharmed to him\nwhat he hath left in pledge, be ashamed of this thy broken troth\nand we shall be disgraced before man and dishonoured in the\npresence of thy friend.  I will not for my part have any hand in\nsuch meanness nor will I taste the olives; furthermore, it\nstandeth not to reason that after seven years' keeping they\nshould be fit to eat.  I do implore thee to forswear this ill\npurpose.\"  On such wise the merchant's wife protested and prayed\nher husband that he meddle not with Ali Khwajah's olives, and\nshamed him of his intent so that for the nonce he cast the matter\nfrom his mind.  However, although the trader refrained that\nevening from taking Ali Khwajah's olives, yet he kept the design\nin memory until one day when, of his obstinacy and unfaith, he\nresolved to carry out his project; and rising up walked  towards\nthe store-room dish in hand.  By chance he met his wife who said,\n\"I am no partner with thee in this ill-action:  in very truth\nsome evil shall befal thee an thou do such deed.\"  He heard her\nbut heeded her not; and, going to the store-room opened the jar\nand found the olives spoiled and white with mould; but presently\nhe tilted up the jar and pouring some of its contents into the\ndish, suddenly saw an Ashrafi fall from the vessel together with\nthe fruit.  Then, filled with greed, he turned out all that was\nwithin into another jar and wondered with exceeding wonder to\nfind the lower half full of golden coins.  Presently, putting up\nthe moneys and the olives he closed the vessel and going back\nsaid to his wife, \"Thou spakest sooth, for I have examined the\njar and have found the fruit mouldy and foul of smell; wherefore\nI returned it to its place and left it as it was aforetime.\"\nThat night the merchant could not sleep a wink for thinking of\nthe gold and how he might lay hands thereon; and when morning\nmorrowed he took out all the Ashrafis and buying some fresh\nolives in the Bazar filled up the jar with them and closed the\nmouth and set it in its usual place.  Now it came to pass by\nAllah's mercy that at the end of the month Ali Khwajah returned\nsafe and sound to Baghdad; and he first went to his old friend,\nto wit, the merchant who, greeting him with feigned joy, fell on\nhis neck, but withal was sore troubled and perplexed at what\nmight happen.  After salutations and much rejoicing on either\npart Ali Khwajah bespake the merchant on business and begged that\nhe might take back his jar of Asafiri-olives which he had placed\nin charge of his familiar.  Quoth the merchant to Ali Khwajah, \"O\nmy friend, I wot not where thou didst leave thy jar of olives;\nbut here is the key, go down to the store-house and take all that\nis thine own.\"  So Ali Khwajah did as he was bidden and carrying\nthe jar from the magazine took his leave and hastened home; but,\nwhen he opened the vessel and found not the gold coins, he was\ndistracted and overwhelmed with grief and made bitter\nlamentation.  Then he returned to the merchant and said, \"O my\nfriend, Allah, the All-present and the All-seeing, be my witness\nthat, when I went on my pilgrimage to Meccah the Magnified, I\nleft a thousand Ashrafis in that jar, and now I find them not.\nCanst thou tell me aught concerning them?  An thou in thy sore\nneed have made use of them, it mattereth not so thou wilt give\nthem back as soon as thou art able.\"  The merchant, apparently\npitying him, said, \"O good friend, thou didst thyself with thine\nhand set the jar inside the store-room.  I wist not that thou\nhadst aught in it save olives; yet as thou didst leave it, so in\nlike manner didst thou find it and carry it away; and now thou\nchargest me with theft of Ashrafis.  It seemeth strange and\npassing strange that thou shouldst make such accusation.  When\nthou wentest thou madest no mention of any money in the jar, but\nsaidst that it was full of olives, even as thou hast found it.\nHadst thou left gold coins therein, then surely thou wouldst have\nrecovered them.\"  Hereupon Ali Khwajah begged hard with much\nentreaty, saying, \"Those thousand Ashrafis were all I owned, the\nmoney earned by years of toil: I do beseech thee have pity on my\ncase and give them back to me.\"  Replied the merchant, waxing\nwroth with great wrath, \"O my friend, a fine fellow thou art to\ntalk of honesty and withal make such false and lying charge.\nBegone: hie thee hence and come not to my house again; for now I\nknow thee as thou art, a swindler and imposter.\"  Hearing this\ndispute between Ali Khwajah and the merchant all the people of\nthe quarter came crowding to the shop.--And as the morn began to\ndawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Forty-first Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the\nmultitude which thronged about the merchant's shop warmly took up\nthe matter; and thus it became well known to all, rich and poor,\nwithin the city of Baghdad how that one Ali Khwajah had hidden a\nthousand Ashrafis within a jar of olives and had placed it on\ntrust with a certain merchant; moreover how, after pilgrimaging\nto Meccah and seven years of travel the poor man had returned,\nand that the rich man had gainsaid his words anent the gold and\nwas ready to make oath that he had not received any trust of the\nkind.  At length, when naught else availed, Ali Khwajah was\nconstrained to bring the matter before the Kazi, and to claim one\nthousand Ashrafis of his false friend.  The Judge asked, \"What\nwitnesses hast thou who may speak for thee?\"  and the plantiff\nanswered, \"O my lord the Kazi, I feared to tell the matter to any\nman lest all come to know of my secret.  Allah Almighty is my\nsole testimony.  This merchant was my friend and I recked not\nthat he would prove dishonest and unfaithful.\"  Quoth the Judge,\n\"Then must I needs send for the merchant and hear what he saith\non oath;\" and when the defendant came they made him swear by all\nhe deemed holy, facing Ka'abah-wards with hands uplifted, and he\ncried, \"I swear that I know naught of any Ashrafis belonging to\nAli Khwajah.\"[FN#311]  Hereat the Kazi pronounced him innocent\nand dismissed him from court; and Ali Khwajah went home sad at\nheart and said to himself, \"Alas, what justice is this which hath\nbeen meted out to me, that I should lose my money, and my just\ncause be deemed unjust!  It hath been truly said, 'He loseth the\nlave who sueth before a knave.' \"  On the next day he drew out a\nstatement of his case; and, as the Caliph Harun al-Rashid was on\nhis way to Friday-prayers, he fell down on the ground before him\nand presented to him the paper.  The Commander of the Faithful\nread the petition and having understood the case deigned give\norder saying, \"To-morrow bring the accuser and the accused to the\naudience-hall and place the petition before my presence, for I\nmyself will enquire into this matter.\"  That night the Prince of\nTrue Believers, as was his wont, donned disguise to walk about\nthe squares of Baghdad and its streets and lanes and, accompanied\nby Ja'afar the Barmaki and Masr\u00far the Sworder of his vengeance,\nproceeded to espy what happened in the city.  Immediately on\nissuing forth he came upon an open place in the Bazar when he\nheard the hubbub of children a-playing and saw at scanty distance\nsome ten or dozen boys making sport amongst themselves in the\nmoonlight;  and he stopped awhile to watch their diversion.  Then\none amongst the lads, a goodly and a fair-complexioned, said to\nthe others, \"Come now and let us play the game of Kazi:  I will\nbe the Judge; let one of you be Ali Khwajah, and another the\nmerchant with whom he placed the thousand Ashrafis in pledge\nbefore faring on his pilgrimage:  so come ye before me and let\neach one plead his plea.\"  When the Caliph heard the name of Ali\nKhwajah he minded him of the petition which had been presented to\nhim for justice against the merchant, and bethought him that he\nwould wait and see how the boy would perform the part of Kazi in\ntheir game and upon what decision he would decide.  So the Prince\nwatched the mock-trial with keen interest saying to himself,\n\"This case hath verily made such stir within the city that even\nthe children know thereof and re-act it in their sports.\"\nPresently, he amongst the lads who took the part of Ali Khwajah\nthe plaintiff and his playmate who represented the merchant of\nBaghdad accused of theft, advanced and stood before the boy who\nas the Kazi sat in pomp and dignity.  Quoth the Judge, \"O Ali\nKhwajah, what is thy claim against this merchant?\"  and the\ncomplainant preferred his charge in a plea of full detail.  Then\nsaid the Kazi to the boy who acted merchant, \"What answerest thou\nto this complaint and why didst thou not return the gold pieces?\"\nThe accused made reply even as the real defendant had done and\ndenied the charge before the Judge, professing himself ready to\ntake oath thereto.  Then said the boy-Kazi, \"Ere thou swear on\noath that thou hast not taken the money, I would fain see for\nmyself the jar of olives which the plaintiff deposited with thee\non trust.\"  Then turning to the boy who represented Ali Khwajah\nhe cried, \"Go thou and instantly produce the jar that I may\ninspect it.\"  And when the vessel was brought the Kazi said to\nthe two contentious, \"See now and say me:  be this the very jar\nwhich thou, the plaintiff, leftest with the defendant?\"  and both\nanswered that it was and the same.  Then said the self-\nconstituted Judge, \"Open now the jar and bring hither some of the\ncontents that I may see the state in which the Asafiri-olives\nactually are.\"  Then tasting of the fruit, \"How is this?  I find\ntheir flavour is fresh and their state excellent.  Surely during\nthe lapse of seven twelvemonths the olives would have become\nmouldy and rotten.  Bring now before me two oil-merchants of the\ntown that they may pass opinion upon them.\"  Then two other of\nthe boys assumed the parts commanded and coming into court stood\nbefore the Kazi, who asked, \"Are ye olive-merchants by trade?\"\nThey answered, \"We are and this hath been our calling for many\ngenerations and in buying and selling olives we earn our daily\nbread.\"  Then said the Kazi, \"Tell me now, how long do olives\nkeep fresh and well-flavoured?\"  and said they, \"O my lord,\nhowever carefully we keep them, after the third year they change\nflavour and colour and become no longer fit for food, in fact\nthey are good only to be cast away.\"  Thereupon quoth the boy-\nKazi, \"Examine me now these olives that are in this jar and say\nme how old are they and what is their condition and savour.\"--And\nas the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Forty-second Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the two\nboys who played the parts of oil-merchants pretended to take some\nberries from the jar and taste them and presently they said, \"O\nour lord the Kazi, these olives are in fair condition and full-\nflavoured.\"  Quoth the Kazi, \"Ye speak falsely, for 'tis seven\nyears since Ali Khwajah put them in the jar as he was about to go\na-pilgrimaging;\" and quoth they, \"Say whatso thou wilt those\nolives are of this year's growth, and there is not an oil-\nmerchant in all Baghdad but who will agree with us.\"  Moreover\nthe accused was made to taste and smell the fruits and he could\nnot but admit that it was even so as they had avouched.  Then\nsaid the boy-Kazi to the boy-defendant, \" 'Tis clear thou art a\nrogue and a rascal, and thou hast done a deed wherefor thou\nrichly deservest the gibbet.\"  Hearing this the children frisked\nabout and clapped their hands with glee and gladness, then\nseizing hold of him who acted as the merchant of Baghdad, they\nled him off as to execution.  The Commander of the Faithful,\nHarun al-Rashid, was greatly pleased at this acuteness of the boy\nwho had assumed the part of judge in the play, and commanded his\nWazir Ja'afar saying, \"Mark well the lad who enacted the Kazi in\nthis mock-trial and see that thou produce him on the morrow:  he\nshall try the case in my presence substantially and in real\nearnest, even as we have heard him deal with it in play.  Summon\nalso the Kazi of this city that he may learn the administration\nof justice from this child.  Moreover send word to Ali Khwajah\nbidding him bring with him the jar of olives, and have also in\nreadiness two oil-merchants of the town.\"  Thus as they walked\nalong the Caliph gave orders to the Wazir and then returned to\nhis palace.  So on the morrow Ja'afar the Barmaki went to that\nquarter of the town where the children had enacted the mock-trail\nand asked the schoolmaster where his scholars might be, and he\nanswered, \"They have all gone away, each to his home.\"  So the\nminister visited the houses pointed out to him and ordered the\nlittle ones to appear in his presence.  Accordingly they were\nbrought before him, when he said to them, \"Who amongst you is he\nthat yesternight acted the part of Kazi in play and passed\nsentence in the case of Ali Khwajah?\"  The eldest of them\nreplied, \" 'Twas I, O my lord the Wazir;\" and then he waxed pale,\nnot knowing why the question was put.  Cried the Minister, \"Come\nalong with me; the Commander of the Faithful hath need of thee.\"\nAt this the mother of the lad was sore afraid and wept; but\nJa'afar comforted her and said, \"O my lady, have no fear and\ntrouble not thyself.  Thy son will soon return to thee in safety,\nInshallah--God willing--and methinks the Sultan will show much\nfavour unto him.\"  The woman's heart was heartened on hearing\nthese words of the Wazir and she joyfully dressed her boy in his\nbest attire and sent him off with the Wazir, who led him by the\nhand to the Caliph's audience-hall and executed all the other\ncommandments which had been issued by his liege lord.  Then the\nCommander of the Faithful, having taken seat upon the throne of\njustice, set the boy upon a seat beside him, and as soon as the\ncontending parties appeared before him, that is Ali Khwajah and\nthe merchant of Baghdad, he commanded them to state each man his\ncase in presence of the child who should adjudge the suit.  So\nthe two, plaintiff and defendant recounted their contention\nbefore the boy in full detail; and when the accused stoutly\ndenied the charge and was about to swear on oath that what he\nsaid was true, with hands uplifted and facing Ka'abah-wards, the\nchild-Kazi prevented him, saying, \"Enough!  swear not on oath\ntill thou art bidden; and first let the jar of olives be produced\nin Court.\"  Forthwith the jar was brought forward and placed\nbefore him; and the lad bade open it;  then, tasting one he gave\nalso to two oil-merchants who had been summoned, that they might\ndo likewise and declare how old was the fruit and whether its\nsavour was good or bad.  They did his bidding and said, \"The\nflavour of these olives hath not changed and they are of this\nyear's growth.\"  Then said the boy, \"Methinks ye are mistaken,\nfor seven years ago Ali Khwajah put the olives into the jar: how\nthen could fruit of this year find their way therein?\"  But they\nreplied, \" 'Tis even as we say: an thou believe not our words\nsend straightway for other oil-merchants and make enquiry of\nthem, so shalt thou know if we speak sooth or lies.\"  But when\nthe merchant of Baghdad saw that he could no longer avail to\nprove his innocence, he confessed everything; to wit, how he had\ntaken out the Ashrafis and filled the jar with fresh olives.\nHearing this the boy said to the Prince of True Believers, \"O\ngracious sovereign, last night in play we tried this cause, but\nthou alone has power to apply the penalty.  I have adjudged the\nmatter in thy presence and I humbly pray that thou punish this\nmerchant according to the law of the Koran and the custom of the\nApostle; and thou decree the restoring of his thousand gold\npieces to Ali Khwajah, for that he hath been proved entitled to\nthem.\"--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace\ntill\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Forty-third Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Caliph\nordered the merchant of Baghdad to be taken away and be hanged,\nafter he should have made known where he had put the thousand\nAshrafis and that these should have been restored their rightful\nowner, Ali Khwajah.  He also turned to the Kazi who had hastily\nadjudged the case, and bade him learn from that lad to do his\nduty more sedulously and conscientiously.  More-over the Prince\nof True Believers embraced the boy, and ordered that the Wazir\ngive him a thousand pieces of gold from the royal treasury and\nconduct him safely to his home and parents.[FN#312]  And after,\nwhen the lad grew to man's estate, the Commander of the Faithful\nmade him one of his cup-companions and furthered his fortunes and\never entreated him with the highmost honour.  But when Queen\nShahrazad had ended the story of Ali Khwajah and the merchant of\nBaghdad she said, \"Now, O auspicious King, I would relate a more\nexcellent history than any, shouldst thou be pleased to hear that\nI have to say;\" and King Shahryar replied, \"By Allah! what an\nadmirable tale is this thou hast told:  my ears do long to hear\nanother as rare and commendable.\"  So Shahrazad began forthright\nto recount the adventures of[FN#313]\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                   PRINCE AHMAD AND THE FAIRY\n                       PERI-BANU.[FN#314]\n\n\n\nIn days of yore and times long gone before there was a Sultan of\nIndia who begat three sons; the eldest hight Prince Husayn, the\nsecond Prince Ali, and the youngest Prince Ahmad; moreover he had\na niece, named Princess Nur al-Nih\u00e1r,[FN#315] the daughter of his\ncadet brother who, dying early, left his only child under her\nuncle's charge. The King busied himself with abundant diligence\nabout her instruction and took all care that she should be taught\nto read and write, sew and embroider, sing and deftly touch all\ninstruments of mirth and merriment. This Princess also in beauty\nand loveliness and in wit and wisdom far excelled all the maidens\nof her own age in every land. She was brought up with the Princes\nher cousins in all joyance; and they ate together and played\ntogether and slept together; and the king had determined in his\nmind that when she reached marriageable age he would give her in\nwedlock to some one of the neighbouring royalties; but, when she\ncame to years of discretion, her uncle perceived that the three\nPrinces his sons were all three deep in love of her, and each\ndesired in his heart to woo and to win and to wed her. Wherefore\nwas the King sore troubled in mind and said to himself, \"An I\ngive the Lady Nur al-Nihar in wedlock to any one of her cousins,\nthe other twain will be dissatisfied and murmur against my\ndecision; withal my soul cannot endure to see them grieved and\ndisappointed. And should I marry her to some stranger the three\nPrinces my sons will be sore distressed and saddened in soul;\nnay, who knoweth that they may not slay themselves or go forth\nand betake them to some far and foreign land? The matter is a\ntroublous and a perilous; so it behoveth me their sire to take\naction on such wise that if one of them espouse her, the other\ntwo be not displeased thereat.\" Long time the Sultan revolved the\nmatter in his mind; and at length he devised a device; and,\nsending for the three princes, addressed them saying, \"O my sons,\nye are in my opinion of equal merit one with other; nor can I\ngive preference to any of you and marry him to the Princess Nur\nal-Nihar; nor yet am I empowered to wed her with all three. But I\nhave thought of one plan whereby she shall be wife to one of you,\nand yet shall not cause aught of irk or envy to his brethren; so\nmay your mutual love and affection remain unabated, and one shall\nnever be jealous of the other's happiness. Brief, my device is\nthis:--Go ye and travel to distant countries, each one separating\nhimself from the others; and do ye bring me back the thing most\nwondrous and marvellous of all sights ye may see upon your\nwayfarings; and he who shall return with the rarest of\ncuriosities shall be husband to the Princess Nur al-Nihar.\nConsent ye now to this proposal; and whatso of money ye require\nfor travel and for the purchase of objects seld-seen and\nsingular, take ye from the royal treasury as much as ye desire.\"\nThe three Princes, who were ever submissive to their sire,\nconsented with one voice to this proposal, and each was satisfied\nand confident that he would bring the King the most extraordinary\nof gifts and thereby win the Princess to wife. So the Sultan bade\ngive to each what moneys he wanted without stint or account, and\ncounselled them to make ready for the journey without stay or\ndelay and depart their home in the Peace of Allah.--And as the\nmorn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Forty-fourth Night\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the three\nprincely brothers forthright made them ready for journey and\nvoyage. So they donned disguise, preferring the dress of\nwandering merchants; and, buying such things as they needed and\ntaking with them each his suite they mounted steeds of purest\nblood and rode forth in a body from the palace. For several\nstages they travelled the same road until, reaching a place where\nit branched off in three different ways, they alighted at a Khan\nand ate the evening meal. Then they made compact and covenant,\nthat whereas they had thus far travelled together they should at\nbreak of day take separate roads and each wend his own way and\nall seek different and distant regions, agreeing to travel for\nthe space of one year only, after which, should they be in the\nland of the living, all three would rendezvous at that same\ncaravanserai and return in company to the King their sire.\nFurthermore, they determined that the first who came back to the\nKhan should await the arrival of the next, and that two of them\nshould tarry there in expectancy of the third. Then, all this\nmatter duly settled, they retired to rest, and when the morning\nmorrowed they fell on one another's necks and bade farewell; and,\nlastly, mounting their horses, they rode forth each in his own\ndirection. Now Prince Husayn, the eldest, had oft heard recount\nthe wonders of the land Bishangarh[FN#316], and for a long while\nhad wished to visit it; so he took the road which led thither,\nand, joining himself to a caravan journeying that way,\naccompanied it by land and by water and traversed many regions,\ndesert wilds and stony wolds, dense jungles and fertile tracts,\nwith fields and hamlets and gardens and townships. After three\nmonths spent in wayfare at length he made Bishangarh, a region\nover-reigned by manifold rulers, so great was its extent and so\nfar reaching was its power. He put up at a Khan built specially\nfor merchants who came from the farthest lands, and from the folk\nwho dwelt therein he heard tell that the city contained a large\ncentral market[FN#317] wherein men bought and sold all manner of\nrarities and wondrous things. Accordingly, next day Prince Husayn\nrepaired to the Bazar and on sighting it he stood amazed at the\nprospect of its length and width. It was divided into many\nstreets, all vaulted over but lit up by skylights; and the shops\non either side were substantially builded, all after one pattern\nand nearly of the same size, while each was fronted by an awning\nwhich kept off the glare and made a grateful shade. Within these\nshops were ranged and ordered various kinds of wares; there were\nbales of \"woven air\"[FN#318] and linens of finest tissue,\nplain-white or dyed or adorned with life-like patterns wherefrom\nbeasts and trees and blooms stood out so distinctly that one\nmight believe them to be very ferals, bosquets and gardens. There\nwere moreover silken goods, brocaded stuffs, and finest satins\nfrom Persia and Egypt of endless profusion; in the China\nwarehouses stood glass vessels of all kinds, and here and there\nwere stores wherein tapestries and thousands of foot-carpets lay\nfor sale. So Prince Husayn walked on from shop to shop and\nmarvelled much to see such wondrous things whereof he had never\neven dreamt: and he came at length to the Goldsmiths' Lane and\nespied gems and jewels and golden and silvern vessels studded\nwith diamonds and rubies, emeralds, pearls and other precious\nstones, all so lustrous and dazzling bright that the stores were\nlit up with their singular brilliancy. Hereat he said to himself,\n\"If in one street only there be such wealth and jewels so rare,\nAllah Almighty and none save He knoweth what may be the riches in\nall this city.\" He was not less astonished to behold the\nBrahmins, how their women-kind for excess of opulence bedecked\nthemselves with the finest gems and were ornamented with the\nrichest gear from front to foot: their very slave-boys and\nhandmaids wore golden necklaces and bracelets and bangles studded\nwith precious stones. Along the length of one market street were\nranged hosts of flower-sellers; for all the folk, both high and\nlow, wore wreaths and garlands: some carried nosegays in hand,\nother some bound fillets round their heads, while not a few had\nropes and festoons surrounding and hanging from their necks. The\nwhole place seemed one huge parterre of bloomery; even traders\nset bouquets in every shop and stall, and the scented air was\nheavy with perfume. Strolling to and fro Prince Husayn was\npresently tired and would fain have sat him down somewhere to\nrest awhile, when one of the merchants, noting his look of\nweariness, with kindly courtesy prayed him be seated in his\nstore. After saluting him with the salam the stranger sat down;\nand anon he saw a broker come that way, offering for sale a\ncarpet some four yards square, and crying, \"This be for sale; who\ngiveth me its worth; to wit, thirty thousand gold pieces?\"--And\nas the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n        The end of the Six Hundred and Forty-fifth Night\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Prince\nmarvelled with excessive marvel at the price, and, beckoning the\ndealer, examined his wares right well; then said he, \"A carpet\nsuch as this is selleth for a few silverlings. What special\nvirtue hath it that thou demand therefor the sum of thirty\nthousand gold coins?\" The broker, believing Husayn to be a\nmerchant man lately arrived at Bishangarh, answered him saying,\n\"O my lord, thinkest thou I price this carpet at too high a\nvalue? My master hath bidden me not to sell it for less than\nforty thousand Ashrafis.\" Quoth the Prince, \"It surely cloth\npossess some wondrous virtue, otherwise wouldst thou not demand\nso prodigious a sum;\" and quoth the broker, \"'Tis true, O my\nlord, its properties are singular and marvellous. Whoever sitteth\non this carpet and willeth in thought to be taken up and set down\nupon other site will, in the twinkling of an eye, be borne\nthither, be that place nearhand or distant many a day's journey\nand difficult to reach.\"[FN#319] The Prince hearing these words\nsaid to himself, \"Naught so wonder-rare as this rug can I carry\nback to the Sultan my sire to my gift, or any that afford him\nhigher satisfaction and delight. Almighty Allah be praised, the\naim of my wayLare is attained and hereby, Inshallah! I shall win\nto my wish. This, if anything, will be to him a joy for ever.\"\nWherefore the Prince, with intent to buy the Flying Carpet,\nturned to the broker and said, If indeed it have properties such\nas thou describest, verily the price thou askest therefor is not\nover much, and I am ready to pay thee the sum required.\" The\nother rejoined, \"An thou doubt my words I pray thee put them to\nthe test and by such proof remove thy suspicions. Sit now upon\nthis square of tapestry, and at thy mere wish and will it shall\ntransport us to the caravanserai wherein thou abidest: on this\nwise shalt thou be certified of my words being sooth, and when\nassured of their truth thou mayest count out to me, there and\nthen, but not before, the value of my wares.\" Accordingly, the\nman spread out the carpet upon the ground behind his shop and\nseated the Prince thereupon, he sitting by his side. Then, at the\nmere will[FN#320] and wish of Prince Husayn, the twain were at\nonce transported as though borne by the throne of Solomon to the\nKhan. So the eldest of the brothers joyed with exceeding joy to\nthink that he had won so rare a thing, whose like could nowhere\nbe found in the lands nor amongst the Kings; and his heart and\nsoul were gladdened for that he had come to Bishangarh and hit\nupon such a prodigy. Accordingly he counted out the forty\nthousand Ashrafis as payment for the carpet, and gave, moreover,\nanother twenty thousand by way of sweetmeat to the broker.\nFurthermore, he ceased not saying to himself that the King on\nseeing it would forthright wed him to the Princess Nur al-Nihar;\nfor it were clear impossible that either of his brothers, e'en\nthough they searched the whole world over and over, could find a\nrarity to compare with this. He longed to take seat upon the\ncarpet that very instant and fly to his own country, or, at\nleast, to await his brothers at the caravanserai where they had\nparted under promise and covenant, pledged and concluded, to meet\nagain at the year's end. But presently he bethought him that the\ndelay would be long and longsome, and much he feared lest he be\ntempted to take some rash step; wherefore he resolved upon\nsojourning in the country whose King and subjects he had ardently\ndesired to behold for many a day, and determined that he would\npass the time in sight-seeing and in pleasuring over the lands\nadjoining. So Prince Husayn tarried in Bishangarh some months.\nNow the King of that country was wont to hold a high court once\nevery week for hearing disputes and adjudging causes which\nconcerned foreign merchants; and thus the Prince ofttimes saw the\nKing, but to none would he tell a word of his adventure. However,\ninasmuch as he was comely of countenance, graceful of gait, and\ncourteous of accost, stout hearted and strong, wise and ware and\nwitty, he was held by the folk in higher honour than the Sultan;\nnot to speak of the traders his fellows; and in due time he be\ncame a favourite at court and learned of the ruler himself all\nmatters concerning his kingdom and his grandeur and greatness.\nThe Prince also visited the most famous Pagodas[FN#321] of that\ncountry. The first he saw was wrought in brass and orichalch of\nmost exquisite workmanship: its inner cell measured three yards\nsquare and contained amiddlemost a golden image in size and\nstature like unto a man of wondrous beauty; and so cunning was\nthe workmanship that the face seemed to fix its eyes, two immense\nrubies of enormous value, upon all beholders no matter where they\nstood.[FN#322] He also saw another idol-temple, not less strange\nand rare than this, builded in a village on a plain surface of\nsome half acre long and broad, wherein bloomed lovely rose-trees\nand jasmine and herb-basil and many other sweet-scented plants,\nwhose perfume made the air rich with fragrance. Around its court\nran a wall three feet high, so that no animal might stray\ntherein; and in the centre was a terrace well-nigh the height of\na man, all made of white marble and wavy alabaster, each and\nevery slab being dressed so deftly and joined with such nice\njoinery that the whole pavement albeit covering so great a space,\nseemed to the sight but a single stone. In the centre of the\nterrace stood the domed fane towering some fifty cubits high and\nconspicuous for many miles around: its length was thirty cubits\nand its breadth twenty, and the red marbles of the revetment were\nclean polished as a mirror, so that every image was reflected in\nit to the life. The dome was exquisitely carved and sumptuously\nornamented without; and within were ranged in due rank and\nsequence rows and rows of idols. To this, the Holy of Holies,\nfrom morn till eve thousands of Brahmins, men and women, came\ndocking for daily worship. They had sports and diversions as well\nas rites and ceremonies: some feasted and others danced, some\nsang, others played on instruments of mirth and merriment, while\nhere and there were plays and revels and innocent merry-makings.\nAnd hither at every season flocked from distant lands hosts of\npilgrims seeking to fulfil their vows and to perform their\norisons; all bringing gifts of gold and silver coin and presents\nrare and costly which they offered to the gods in presence of the\nroyal officers.--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her\npeace till\n\n        The end of the Six Hundred and Forty-sixth Night\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Prince\nHusayn also saw a f\u00eate once a year within the city of Bishangarh\nand the Ryots all, both great and small, gathered together and\ncircumambulated the Pagodas; chiefly circuiting one which in size\nand grandeur surpassed all others. Great and learned Pandits\nversed in the Sh\u00e1stras[FN#323] made journeys of four or five\nmonths and greeted one another at that festival; thither too the\nfolk from all parts of India pilgrimaged in such crowds that\nPrince Husayn was astounded at the sight; and, by reason of the\nmultitudes that thronged around the temples, he could not see the\nmode in which the gods were worshipped. On one side of the\nadjacent plain which stretched far and wide, stood a new-made\nscaffolding of ample size and great magnificence, nine storeys\nhigh, and the lower part supported by forty pillars; and here one\nday in every week the King assembled his Wazirs for the purpose\nof meting out justice to all strangers in the land. The palace\nwithin was richly adorned and furnished with costly furniture:\nwithout, upon the wall faces were limned homely landscapes and\nscenes of foreign parts and notably all manner beasts and birds\nand insects even gnats and flies, portrayed with such skill of\nbrain and cunning of hand that they seemed real and alive and the\ncountry-folk and villagers seeing from afar paintings of lions\nand tigers and similar ravenous beasts, were filled with awe and\ndismay. On the other three sides of the scaffolding were\npavilions, also of wood, built for use of the commons,\nilluminated and decorated inside and outside like the first, and\nwroughten so cunningly that men could turn them round, with all\nthe people in them, and moving them about transfer them to\nwhatsoever quarter they willed. On such wise they shifted these\nhuge buildings by aid of machinery;[FN#324] and the folk inside\ncould look upon a succession of sports and games. Moreover, on\neach side of the square elephants were ranged in ranks, the\nnumber amounting to well nigh one thousand, their trunks and ears\nand hinder parts being painted with cinnabar and adorned with\nvarious lively figures; their housings were of gold brocade and\ntheir howdahs purfled with silver, carrying minstrels who\nperformed on various instruments, whilst buffoons delighted the\ncrowd with their jokes and mimes played their most diverting\nparts. Of all the sports, however, which the Prince beheld, the\nelephant-show amused him most and Wiled him with the greatest\nadmiration. One huge beast, which could be wheeled about where\nthe keepers ever listed, for that his feet rested upon a post\nwhich travelled on casters, held in his trunk a flageolet whereon\nhe played so sweetly well that all the people were fain to cry\nBravo! There was another but a smaller animal which stood upon\none end of a beam laid crosswise upon, and attached with hinges\nto, a wooden block eight cubits high, and on the further end was\nplaced an iron weight as heavy as the elephant, who would press\ndown for some time upon the beam until the end touched the\nground, and then the weight would raise him up again.[FN#325]\nThus the beam swung like a see saw aloft and adown; and, as it\nmoved, the elephant swayed to and fro and kept time with the\nbands of music, loudly trumpeting the while. The people moreover\ncould wheel about this elephant from place to place as he stood\nbalanced on the beam; and such exhibitions of learned elephants\nwere mostly made in presence of the King. Prince Husayn spent\nwell nigh a year in sight-seeing amongst the fairs and festivals\nof Bishangarh; and, when the period of the fraternal compact drew\nnear, he spread his carpet upon the court-ground behind the Khan\nwherein he lodged, and sitting thereon, together with his suite\nand the steeds and all he had brought with him, mentally wished\nthat he might be transported to the caravanserai where the three\nbrothers had agreed to meet. No sooner had he formed the thought\nthan straightway, in the twinkling of an eye, the carpet rose\nhigh in air and sped through space and carried them to the\nappointed stead where, still garbed as a merchant he remained in\nexpectation of his brothers' coming. Hearken now, O auspicious\nKing, to what befel Prince Ali, the second brother of Prince\nHusayn. On the third day after he had parted from the two others,\nhe also joined a caravan and journeyed towards Persia; then,\nafter a march of four months arriving at Shiraz, the capital of\nIran-land, he alighted at a Khan, he and his fellow-travellers\nwith whom he had made a manner of friendship; and, passing as a\njeweller, there took up his abode with them. Next day the traders\nfared forth to buy wares and to sell their goods; but Prince Ali,\nwho had brought with him naught of vendible, and only the things\nhe needed, presently doffed his travelling dress, and in company\nwith a comrade of the caravan entered the chief Bazar, known as\nthe Bazist\u00e1n,[FN#326] or cloth-market. Ali strolled about the\nplace, which was built of brick and where all the shops had\narched roofs resting on handsome columns; and he admired greatly\nto behold the splendid store-houses exposing for sale all manner\ngoods of countless value. He wondered much what wealth was in the\ntown if a single market street contained riches such as these.\nAnd as the brokers went about crying their goods for sale, he saw\none of them hending in hand an ivory tube in length about a\ncubit, which he was offering for sale at the price of thirty\nthousand Ashrafis. Hearing such demand Prince Ali thought to\nhimself, \"Assuredly this fellow is a fool who asketh such a price\nfor so paltry a thing.\"--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad\nheld her peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Forty-seventh Night\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Prince Ali\npresently asked one of the shopkeepers with whom he had made\nacquaintance, saying, \"O my friend, is this man a maniac that he\nasketh a sum of thirty thousand Ashrafis for this little pipe of\nivory? Surely none save an idiot would give him such a price and\nwaste upon it such a mint of money.\" Said the shop man, \"O my\nlord, this broker is wiser and warier than all the others of his\ncalling, and by means of him I have sold goods worth thousands of\nsequins. Until yesterday he was in his sound senses; but I cannot\nsay what state is his to day and whether or no he have lost his\nwits; but this wot I well, that if he ask thirty thousand for yon\nivory tube, 'twill be worth that same or even more. Howbeit we\nshall see with our own eyes. Sit thee here and rest within the\nshop until he pass this way.\" So Prince Ali abode where he was\nbidden and presently the broker was seen coming up the street.\nThen the shopman calling to him said, \"O man, rare merit hath yon\nlittle pipe; for all the folk are astounded to hear thee ask so\nhigh a price therefor; nay more, this friend of mine thinketh\nthat thou art crazy.\" The broker, a man of sense, was on no wise\nchafed at these words but answered with gentle speech, \"O my\nlord, I doubt not but that thou must deem me a madman to ask so\nhigh a price, and set so great a value upon an article so mean;\nbut when I shall have made known to thee its properties and\nvirtues, thou wilt most readily consent to take it at that\nvaluation. Not thou alone but all men who have heard me cry my\ncry laugh and name me ninny.\" So saying, the broker showed the\nSpying Tube to Prince Ali and handing it to him said, \"Examine\nwell this ivory, the properties of which I will explain to thee.\nThou seest that it is furnished with a piece of glass at either\nend;[FN#327] and, shouldst thou apply one extremity thereof to\nthine eye, thou shalt see what thing soe'er thou listest and it\nshall appear close by thy side though parted from thee by many an\nhundred of miles.\" Replied the Prince, \"This passeth all\nconception, nor can I believe it to be veridical until I shall\nhave tested it and I become satisfied that 'tis even as thou\nsayest.\" Hereupon the broker placed the little tube in Prince\nAli's hand, and showing him the way to handle it said, \"Whatso\nthou mayest wish to descry will be shown to thee by looking\nthrough this ivory.\" Prince Ali silently wished to sight his\nsire, and when he placed the pipe close to his eye forthwith he\nsaw him hale and hearty, seated on his throne and dispensing\njustice to the people of his dominion. Then the youth longed with\ngreat longing to look upon his lady love the Princess Nur\nal-Nihar; and straightway he saw her also sitting upon her bed,\nsound and sane, talking and laughing, whilst a host of handmaids\nstood around awaiting her commands. The Prince was astonished\nexceedingly to behold this strange and wondrous spectacle, and\nsaid to himself, \"An I should wander the whole world over for ten\nyears or more and search in its every corner and cranny, I shall\nnever find aught so rare and precious as this tube of ivory.\"\nThen quoth he to the broker, \"The virtues of thy pipe I find are\nindeed those thou hast described, and right willingly I give to\nthee its price the thirty thousand Ashrafis.\" Replied the sales-\nman, \"O my lord, my master hath sworn an oath that he will not\npart with it for less than forty thousand gold pieces.\" Here-upon\nthe Prince, understanding that the broker was a just man and a\ntrue, weighed out to him the forty thousand sequins and became\nmaster of the Spying Tube, enraptured with the thought that\nassuredly it would satisfy his sire and obtain for him the hand\nof Princess Nur al-Nihar. So with mind at ease Ali journeyed\nthrough Shiraz and over sundry parts of Persia; and in fine, when\nthe year was well nigh spent he joined a caravan and, travelling\nback to India, arrived safe and sound at the appointed\ncaravanserai whither Prince Husayn had foregone him. There the\ntwain tarried awaiting the third brother's safe return. Such, O\nKing Shahryar, is the story of the two brothers; and now I\nbeseech thee incline thine ear and hearken to what befel the\nyoungest, to wit Prince Ahmad; for indeed his adventure is yet\nmore peregrine and seld-seen of all. When he had parted from his\nbrothers, he took the road leading to Samarkand; and, arriving\nthere after long travel, he also like his brothers alighted at a\nKhan. Next day he fared forth to see the market square, which\nfolk call the Bazistan, and he found it fairly laid out, the\nshops wroughten with cunning workmanship and filled with rare\nstuffs and precious goods and costly merchandise. Now as he\nwandered to and fro he came across a broker who was hawking a\nMagical Apple and crying aloud, \"Who will buy this fruit, the\nprice whereof be thirty-five thousand gold pieces?\" Quoth Prince\nAhmad to the man, \"Prithee let me see the fruit thou holdest in\nhand, and explain to me what hidden virtue it possesseth that\nthou art asking for it so high a value.\" Quoth the other, smiling\nand handing to him the apple, \"Marvel not at this, O good my\nlord: in sooth I am certified that when I shall have explained\nits properties and thou shalt see how it advantageth all mankind,\nthou wilt not deem my demand exorbitant; nay, rather thou wilt\ngladly give a treasure house of gold so thou may possess\nit.\"--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Forty-eighth Night\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the broker\nsaid moreover to Prince Ahmad, \"Now hearken to me, O my lord, and\nI will tell thee what of virtue lieth in this artificial apple.\nIf anyone be sick of a sickness however sore, nay more if he be\nill nigh unto death, and perchance he smell this pome, he will\nforthwith recover and become well and whole of whatsoever disease\nhe had, plague or pleurisy, fever or other malignant distemper,\nas though he never had been attacked; and his strength will\nreturn to him forthright, and after smelling this fruit he will\nbe free from all ailment and malady so long as life shall remain\nto him.\" Quoth Prince Ahmad, \"How shall I be assured that what\nthou speakest is truth? If the matter be even as thou sayest,\nthen verily I will give thee right gladly the sum thou\ndemandest.\" Quoth the broker, \"O my lord, all men who dwell in\nthe parts about Samarkand know full well how there once lived in\nthis city a sage of wondrous skill who, after many years of toil\nand travail, wrought this apple by mixing medicines from herbs\nand minerals countless in number. All his good, which was great,\nhe expended upon it, and when he had perfected it he made whole\nthousands of sick folk whom he directed only to smell the fruit.\nBut, alas! his life presently came to an end and death overtook\nhim suddenly ere he could save himself by the marvellous scent;\nand, as he had won no wealth and left only a bereaved wife and a\nlarge family of young children and dependents manifold, his widow\nhad no help but provide for them a maintenance by parting with\nthis prodigy.\" While the salesman was telling his tale to the\nPrince a crowd of citizens gathered around them and one amongst\nthe folk, who was well known to the broker, came forward and\nsaid, \"A friend of mine lieth at home sick to the death: the\ndoctors and surgeons all despair of his life; so I beseech thee\nlet him smell this fruit that he may live.\" Hearing these words,\nPrince Ahmad turned to the salesman and said, \"O my friend, if\nthis sick man of whom thou hearest can recover strength by\nsmelling the apple, then will I straightway buy it of thee at a\nvaluation of forty thousand Ashrafis.\" The man had permission to\nsell it for a sum of thirty-five thousand; so he was satisfied to\nreceive five thousand by way of brokerage, and he rejoined, \"'Tis\nwell, O my lord, now mayest thou test the virtues of this apple\nand be persuaded in thy mind: hundreds of ailing folk have I made\nwhole by means of it.\" Accordingly the Prince accompanied the\npeople to the sick man's house and found him lying on his bed\nwith the breath in his nostrils; but, as soon as the dying man\nsmelt the fruit, at once recovering strength he rose in perfect\nhealth, sane and sound. Hereupon Ahmad bought the Magical Apple\nof the dealer and counted out to him the forty thousand Ashrafis.\nPresently, having gained the object of his travels, he resolved\nto join some caravan marching Indiawards and return to his\nfather's home; but meanwhile he resolved to solace himself with\nthe sights and marvels of Samarkand. His especial joy was to gaze\nupon the glorious plain highs Soghd,[FN#328] one of the wonders\nof this world: the land on all sides was a delight to the sight,\nemerald-green and bright, with crystal rills like the plains of\nParadise; the gardens bore all manner flowers and fruits and the\ncities and palaces gladdened the stranger's gaze. After some days\nPrince Ahmad joined a caravan of merchants wending Indiawards;\nand, when his long and longsome travel was ended, he at last\nreached the caravanserai where his two brothers, Husayn and Ali,\nimpatiently awaited his arrival. The three rejoiced with\nexceeding joy to meet once more and fell on one another's necks;\nthanking Allah who had brought them back safe and sound, hale and\nhearty, after such prolonged and longsome absence. Then Prince\nHusayn, being the eldest, turned to them and said, \"Now it\nbehoveth us each to recount what hath betided him and announce\nwhat rare thing he hath brought back and what be the virtues\nthereof; and I, being the first-born, will be the foremost to\ntell my adventures. I bring with me from Bishangarh, a carpet,\nmean to look at, but such are its properties that should any sit\nthereon and wish in mind to visit country or city, he will at\nonce be carried thither in ease and safety although it be distant\nmonths, nay years of journey. I have paid forty thousand gold\npieces to its price; and, after seeing all the wonders of\nBishangarh-land, I took seat upon my purchase and willed myself\nat this spot. Straightway I found myself here as I wished and\nhave tarried in this caravanserai three months awaiting your\narrival. The flying carpet is with me; so let him who listeth\nmake trial of it.\" When the senior Prince had made an end of\ntelling his tale, Prince Ali spake next and said, \"O my brother,\nthis carpet which thou hast brought is marvel-rare and hath most\nwondrous gifts; nor according to thy statement hath any in all\nthe world seen aught to compare with it.\" Then bringing forth the\nSpying Tube, he pursued, \"Look ye here, I too have bought for\nforty thousand Ashrafis somewhat whose merits I will now show\nforth to you.\"--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her\npeace till\n\n        The end of the Six Hundred and Forty-ninth Night\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Prince Ali\nenlarged upon the virtues of his purchase and said, \"Ye see this\nivory pipe? By means of it man may descry objects hidden from his\nsight and distant from him many a mile. 'Tis truly a most\nwondrous matter and right worthy your inspection, and you two may\ntry it an ye will. Place but an eye close to the smaller glass\nand form a wish in mind to see what thing soe'er your soul\ndesireth; and, whether it be near hand or distant many hundreds\nof miles, this ivory will make the object look clear and close to\nyou.\" At these words Prince Husayn took the pipe from Prince Ali\nand, applying his eye to one end as he had been directed, then\nwished in his heart to behold the Princess Nur al-Nihar;[FN#329]\nand the two brothers watched him to learn what he would say.\nSuddenly they saw his face change colour and wither as a wilted\nflower, while in his agitation and distress a flood of tears\ngushed from his eyes; and, ere his brothers recovered from their\namazement and could enquire the cause of such strangeness, he\ncried aloud, \"Alas! and well away. We have endured toil and\ntravail, and we have travelled so far and wide hoping to wed the\nPrincess Nur al-Nihar. But 'tis all in vain: I saw her lying on\nher bed death-sick and like to breathe her last and around her\nstood her women all weeping and wailing in the sorest of sorrow.\nO my brothers, an ye would see her once again for the last time,\ntake ye one final look through the glass ere she be no more.\"\nHereat Prince Ali seized the Spying Tube and peered through it\nand found the condition of the Princess even as his brother\nHusayn had described; so he presently passed it over to Prince\nAhmad, who also looked and was certified that the Lady Nur\nal-Nihar was about to give up the ghost. So he said to his elder\nbrothers, \"We three are alike love distraught for the Princess\nand the dearest wish of each one is to win her. Her life is on\nthe ebb, still I can save her and make her whole if we hasten to\nher without stay or delay.\" So saying he pulled from his pocket\nthe Magical Apple and showed it to them crying, \"This thing is\nnot less in value than either the Flying Carpet or the Spying\nTube. In Samarkand I bought it for forty thousand gold pieces and\nhere is the best opportunity to try its virtues. The folk told me\nthat if a sick man hold it to his nose, although on the point of\ndeath, he will wax at once well and hale again: I have myself\ntested it, and now ye shall see for yourselves its marvel-cure\nwhen I shall apply it to the case of Nur al-Nihar. Only, let us\nseek her presence ere she die.\" Quoth Prince Husayn, \"This were\nan easy matter: my carpet shall carry us in the twinkling of an\neye straight to the bedside of our beloved. Do ye without\nhesitation sit down with me thereupon, for there is room\nsufficient to accommodate us three; we shall instantly be carried\nthither and our servants can follow us.\" Accordingly, the three\nPrinces disposed themselves upon the Flying Carpet and each\nwilled in his mind to reach the bedside of Nur al-Nihar, when\ninstantly they found themselves within her apartment. The\nhandmaids and eunuchs in waiting were terrified at the sight and\nmarvelled how these stranger men could have entered the chamber;\nand, as the Castratos were fain fall upon them, brand in hand,\nthey recognised the Princes and drew back still in wonderment at\ntheir intrusion. Then the brothers rose forthright from the\nFlying Carpet and Prince Ahmad came forwards and put the Magical\nApple to the nostrils of the lady, who lay stretched on the couch\nin unconscious state; and as the scent reached her brain the\nsickness left her and the cure was complete. She opened wide her\neyes and sitting erect upon her bed looked all around and chiefly\nat the Princes as they stood before her; for she felt that she\nhad waxed hale and hearty as though she awoke after the sweetest\nof slumber. Presently she arose from her couch and bade her\ntire-women dress her the while they related to her the sudden\ncoming of the three Princes, her uncle's sons, and how Prince\nAhmad had made her smell something whereby she had recovered of\nher illness. And after she had made the Ablution of Health she\njoyed with exceeding joy to see the Princes and returned thanks\nto them, but chiefly to Prince Ahmad in that he had restored her\nto health and life.--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held\nher peace till\n\n         The end of the Six Hundred and Fiftieth Night.\n\nThen she said:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the\nbrothers also were gladdened with exceeding gladness to see the\nPrincess Nur al-Nihar recover so suddenly from mortal malady and,\npresently taking leave of her, they fared to greet their father.\nMeanwhile the Eunuchs had reported the whole matter to the\nSultan, and when the Princes came before him he rose and embraced\nthem tenderly and kissed them on their foreheads, filled with\nsatisfaction to see them again and to hear from them the welfare\nof the Princess, who was dear to him as she had been his\ndaughter. Then the three brothers produced each one the wondrous\nthing he had brought from his wayfare; and Prince Husayn first\nshowed the Flying Carpet which in the twinkling of an eye had\ntransported them home from far distant exile and said, \"For\noutward show this carpet hath no merit, but inasmuch as it\npossesseth such wondrous virtue, methinks 'tis impossible to find\nin all the world aught that can compare to it for rarity.\" Next,\nPrince Ali presented to the King his Spying Tube and said, \"The\nmirror of Jamsh\u00edd[FN#330] is as vain and naught beside this pipe,\nby means whereof all things from East to West and from North to\nSouth are made clearly visible to the ken of man.\" Last of all,\nPrince Ahmad produced the Magical Apple which wondrously saved\nthe dear life of Nur al-Nihar and said, \"By means of this fruit\nall maladies and grievous distempers are at once made whole.\"\nThus each presented his rarity to the Sultan, saying, \"O our\nlord, deign examine well these gifts we have brought and do thou\npronounce which of them all is most excellent and admirable; so,\naccording to thy promise, he amongst us on whom thy choice may\nfall shall marry the Princess Nur al-Nihar.\" When the King had\npatiently listened to their several claims and had understood how\neach gift took part in restoring health to his niece, for a while\nhe dove deep in the sea of thought and then answered, \"Should I\naward the palm of merit to Prince Ahmad, whose Magical Apple\ncured the Princess, then should I deal unfairly by the other two.\nAlbeit his rarity restored her to life and health from mortal\nillness, yet say me how had he known of her condition save by the\nvirtue of Prince Ali's Spying Tube? In like manner, but for the\nFlying Carpet of Prince Husayn, which brought you three hither in\na moment's space, the Magical Apple would have been of no avail.\nWherefore 'tis my rede all three had like part and can claim\nequal merit in healing her; for it were impossible to have made\nher whole if any one thing of the three were wanting; furthermore\nall three objects are wondrous and marvellous without one\nsurpassing other, nor can I, with aught of reason, assign\npreference or precedence to any. My promise was to marry the Lady\nNur al-Nihar to him who should produce the rarest of rarities,\nbut although strange 'tis not less true that all are alike in the\none essential condition. The difficulty still remaineth and the\nquestion is yet unsolved, whilst I fain would have the matter\nsettled ere the close of day, and without prejudice to any. So\nneeds must I fix upon some plan whereby I may be able to adjudge\none of you to be the winner, and bestow upon him the hand of\nPrincess Nur al-Nihar, according to my plighted word; and thus\nabsolve myself from all responsibility. Now I have resolved upon\nthis course of action; to wit, that ye should mount each one his\nown steed and all of you be provided with bow and arrows; then do\nye ride forth to the Mayd\u00e1n--the hippodrome--whither I and my\nMinisters of State and Grandees of the kingdom and Lords of the\nland will follow you. There in my presence ye shall each, turn by\nturn, shoot a shaft with all your might and main; and he amongst\nyou whose arrow shall fly the farthest will be adjudged by me\nworthiest to win the Princess Nur al-Nihar to wife.\" Accordingly\nthe three Princes, who could not gainsay the decision of their\nsire nor question its wisdom and justice, backed their coursers,\nand each taking his bow and arrows made straight for the place\nappointed. The King also, when he had stored the presents in the\nroyal treasury, arrived there with his Wazirs and the dignitaries\nof his realm; and as soon as all was ready, the eldest son and\nheir, Prince Husayn, essayed his strength and skill and shot a\nshaft far along the level plain. After him Prince Ali hent his\nbow in hand and, discharging an arrow in like direction, overshot\nthe first; and lastly came Prince Ahmad's turn. He too aimed at\nthe same end, but such was the decree of Destiny, that although\nthe knights and courtiers urged on their horses to note where his\nshaft might strike ground, withal they saw no trace thereof and\nnone of them knew if it had sunk into the bowels of earth or had\nflown up to the confines of the sky. Some, indeed, there were who\nwith evil mind held that Prince Ahmad had not shot any bolt, and\nthat his arrow had never left his bow. So at last the King bade\nno more search be made for it and declared himself in favour of\nPrince Ali and adjudged that he should wed the Princess Nur\nal-Nihar, forasmuch as his arrow had outsped that of Prince\nHusayn. Accordingly, in due course the marriage rites and\nceremonies were performed after the law and ritual of the land\nwith exceeding pomp and grandeur. But Prince Husayn would not be\npresent at the bride-feast by reason of his dis appointment and\njealousy, for he had loved the Lady Nur al-Nihar with a love far\nexceeding that of either of his brothers; and he doffed his\nprincely dress and donning the garb of a Fakir fared forth to\nlive a hermit's life. Prince Ahmad also burned with envy and\nrefused to join the wedding-feast; he did not, however, like\nPrince Husayn, retire to a hermitage, but he spent all his days\nin searching for his shaft to find where it had fallen. Now it so\nfortuned that one morning he went again, alone as was his wont,\nin quest thereof, and starting from the stead whence they had\nshot their shafts reached the place where the arrows of Princes\nHusayn and Ali had been found. Then going straight forwards he\ncast his glances on every side over hill and dale to his right\nand to his left.--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held\nher peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Fifty-first Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Prince\nAhmad went searching for his shaft over hill and dale when, after\ncovering some three parasangs, suddenly he espied it lying flat\nupon a rock.[FN#331] Hereat he marvelled greatly, wondering how\nthe arrow had flown so far, but even more so when he went up to\nit and saw that it had not stuck in the ground but appeared to\nhave rebounded and to have fallen flat upon a slab of stone.\nQuoth he to himself, \"There must assuredly be some mystery in\nthis matter: else how could anyone shoot a shaft to such a\ndistance and find it fallen after so strange a fashion.\" Then,\nthreading his way amongst the pointed crags and huge boulders, he\npresently came to a hollow in the ground which ended in a\nsubterraneous passage, and after pacing a few paces he espied an\niron door. He pushed this open with all ease, for that it had no\nbolt, and entering, arrow in hand, he came upon an easy slope by\nwhich he descended. But whereas he feared to find all pitch-dark,\nhe discovered at some distance a spacious square, a widening of\nthe cave, which was lighted on every side with lamps and\ncandelabra. Then advancing some fifty cubits or more his glance\nfell upon a vast and handsome palace, and presently there issued\nfrom within to the portico a lovely maiden lovesome and lovable,\na fairy-form robed in princely robes and adorned from front to\nfoot with the costliest of jewels. She walked with slow and\nstately gait, withal graceful and blandishing, whilst around her\nranged her attendants like the stars about a moon of the\nfourteenth night. Seeing this vision of beauty, Prince Ahmad\nhastened to salute her with the salam and she returned it; then\ncoming forwards greeted him graciously and said in sweetest\naccents, \"Well come and welcome, O Prince Ahmad: I am pleased to\nhave sight of thee. How fareth it with thy Highness and why hast\nthou tarried so long away from me?\" The King's son marvelled\ngreatly to hear her name him by his name; for that he knew not\nwho she was, as they had never seen each other aforetime--how\nthen came she to have learnt his title and condition? Then\nkissing ground before her he said, \"O my lady, I owe thee much of\nthanks and gratitude for that thou art pleased to welcome me with\nwords of cheer in this strange place where I, alone and a\nstranger, durst enter with exceeding hesitation and trepidation.\nBut it perplexeth me sorely to think how thou camest to learn the\nname of thy slave.\" Quoth she with a smile, \"O my lord, come\nhither and let us sit at ease within yon belvedere; and there I\nwill give an answer to thine asking.\" So they went thither,\nPrince Ahmad following her footsteps; and on reaching it he was\nfilled with wonder to see its vaulted roof of exquisite\nworkmanship and adorned with gold and lapis lazuli[FN#332] and\npaintings and ornaments, whose like was nowhere to be found in\nthe world. The lady seeing his astonishment said to the Prince,\n\"This mansion is nothing beside all my others which now, of my\nfree will, I have made thine own; and when thou seest them thou\nshalt have just cause for wonderment. Then that sylph-like being\ntook seat upon a raised dais and with abundant show of affection\nseated Prince Ahmad by her side. Presently quoth she, \"Albeit\nthou know me not, I know thee well, as thou shalt see with\nsurprise when I shall tell thee all my tale. But first it\nbehoveth me disclose to thee who I am. In Holy Writ belike thou\nhast read that this world is the dwelling-place not only of men,\nbut also of a race hight the Jann in form likest to mortals. I am\nthe only daughter of a Jinn chief of noblest strain and my name\nis Per\u00ed-B\u00e1n\u00fa. So marvel not to hear me tell thee who thou art and\nwho is the King thy sire and who is Nur al-Nihar, the daughter of\nthine uncle. I have full knowledge of all concerning thyself and\nthy kith and kin; how thou art one of three brothers who all and\neach were daft for love of Princess Nur al-Nihar and strave to\nwin her from one another to wife. Furthermore thy sire deemed it\nbest to send you all far and wide over foreign lands, and thou\nfaredest to far Samarkand and broughtest back a Magical Apple\nmade with rare art and mystery which thou boughtest for forty\nthousand Ashrafis; then by means whereof thou madest the Princess\nthy lady-love whole of a grievous malady, whilst Prince Husayn,\nthine elder brother, bought for the same sum of money a Flying\nCarpet at Bishangarh, and Prince Ali also brought home a Spying\nTube from Shiraz-city. Let this suffice to show thee that naught\nis hidden from me of all thy case; and now do thou tell me in\nvery truth whom dost thou admire the more, for beauty and\nloveliness, me or the lady Nur al-Nihar thy brother's wife? My\nheart longeth for thee with excessive longing and desireth that\nwe may be married and enjoy the pleasures of life and the joyance\nof love. So say me, art thou also willing to wed me, or pinest\nthou in preference for the daughter of thine uncle? In the\nfulness of my affection for thee I stood by thy side unseen\nduring the archery meeting upon the plain of trial, and when thou\nshottest thy shaft I knew that it would fall far short of Prince\nAli's,[FN#333] so I hent it in hand ere it touched ground and\ncarried it away from sight, and striking it upon the iron door\ncaused it rebound and lie flat upon the rock where thou didst\nfind it. And ever since that day I have been sitting in\nexpectancy, wotting well that thou wouldst search for it until\nthou find it, and by such means I was certified of bringing thee\nhither to me.\" Thus spake the beautiful maiden Peri-Banu who with\neyes full of love-longing looked up at Prince Ahmad; and then\nwith modest shame bent low her brow and averted her glance.--And\nas the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Fifty-Second Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that when Prince\nAhmad heard these words of Peri-Banu he rejoiced with joy\nexceeding, and said to himself, \"The Princess Nur al-Nihar is not\nwithin my power to win, and Peri-Banu doth outvie her in\ncomeliness of favour and in loveliness of form and in\ngracefulness of gait.\" In short so charmed was he and captivated\nthat he clean forgot his love for his cousin; and, noting that\nthe heart of his new enchantress inclined towards him, he\nreplied, \"O my lady, O fairest of the fair, naught else do I\ndesire save that I may serve thee and do thy bidding all my life\nlong. But I am of human and thou of non-human birth. Thy friends\nand family, kith and kin, will haply be displeased with thee an\nthou unite with me in such union.\" But she made answer, \"I have\nfull sanction of my parents to marry as I list and whomsoever I\nmay prefer. Thou sayest that thou wilt be my servant, nay, rather\nbe thou my lord and master; for I myself and my life and all my\ngood are very thine, and I shall ever be thy bondswoman. Consent\nnow, I beseech thee, to accept me for thy wife: my heart doth\ntell me thou wilt not refuse my request.\" Then Peri-Banu added,\n\"I have told thee already that in this matter I act with fullest\nauthority. Besides all this there is a custom and immemorial\nusage with us fairy-folk that, when we maidens come to\nmarriageable age and years of understanding, each one may wed,\naccording the dictates of her heart, the person that pleaseth her\nmost and whom she judgeth likely to make her days happy Thus wife\nand husband live with each other all their lives in harmony and\nhappiness. But if a girl be given away in marriage by the\nparents, according to their choice and not hers, and she be mated\nto a helpmate unmeet for her, because ill-shapen or ill-\nconditioned or unfit to win her affection, then are they twain\nlikely to be at variance each with other for the rest of their\ndays; and endless troubles result to them from such ill-sorted\nunion. Nor are we bound by another law which bindeth modest\nvirgins of the race of Adam; for we freely announce our\npreference to those we love, nor must we wait and pine to be\nwooed and won.\" When Prince Ahmad heard these words of answer, he\nrejoiced with exceeding joy and stooping down essayed to kiss the\nskirt of her garment, but she prevented him, and in lieu of her\nhem gave him her hand. The Prince clasped it with rapture and\naccording to the custom of that place, he kissed it and placed it\nto his breast and upon his eyes. Hereat quoth the Fairy, smiling\na charming smile, \"With my hand locked in thine plight me thy\ntroth even as I pledge my faith to thee, that I will alway true\nand loyal be, nor ever prove faithless or fail of constancy.\" And\nquoth the Prince, \"O loveliest of beings, O dearling of my soul,\nthinkest thou that I can ever become a traitor to my own heart, I\nwho love thee to distraction and dedicate to thee my body and my\nsprite; to thee who art my queen, the very empress of me? Freely\nI give myself to thee, do thou with me whatso thou wilt.\"\nHereupon Peri-Banu said to Prince Ahmad, \"Thou art my husband and\nI am thy wife.[FN#334] This solemn promise made between thee and\nme standeth in stead of marriage-contract: no need have we of\nKazi, for with us all other forms and ceremonies are superfluous\nand of no avail. Anon I will show thee the chamber where we shall\npass the bride-night; and methinks thou wilt admire it and\nconfess that there is none like thereto in the whole world of\nmen.\" Presently her handmaidens spread the table and served up\ndishes of various kinds, and the finest wines in flagons and\ngoblets of gold dubbed with jewels. So they twain sat at meat and\nate and drank their sufficiency. Then Peri-Banu took Prince Ahmad\nby the hand and led him to her private chamber wherein she slept;\nand he stood upon the threshold amazed to see its magnificence\nand the heaps of gems and precious stones which dazed his sight,\ntill recovering himself he cried, \"Methinks there is not in the\nuniverse a room so splendid and decked with costly furniture and\ngemmed articles such as this.\" Quoth Peri-Banu, \"An thou so\nadmire and praise this palace what wilt thou say when sighting\nthe mansions and castles of my sire the Jann-King? Haply too when\nthou shalt behold my garden thou wilt be filled with wonder and\ndelight; but now 'tis over late to lead thee thither and night\napproacheth.\" Then she ushered Prince Ahmad into another room\nwhere the supper had been spread, and the splendour of this\nsaloon yielded in naught to any of the others; nay, rather it was\nthe more gorgeous and dazzling. Hundreds of wax candles set in\ncandelabra of the finest amber[FN#335] and the purest crystal,\nranged on all sides, rained floods of light, whilst golden\nflowerpots and vessels of finest workmanship and priceless worth,\nof lovely shapes and wondrous art, adorned the niches and the\nwalls.--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace\ntill\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Fifty-third Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that tongue of\nman can never describe the magnificence of that room in which\nbands of virgin Peris, loveliest of forms and fairest of\nfeatures, garbed in choicest garments played on sweet-toned\ninstruments of mirth and merriment or sang lays of amorous\nsignificance to strains of heart bewitching music. Then they\ntwain, to wit the bride and bridegroom, sat down at meat, ever\nand anon delaying to indulge in toyings and bashful love-play and\nchaste caresses. Peri-Banu with her own hands passed the choicest\nmouthfuls to Prince Ahmad and made him taste of each dish and\ndainty, telling him their names and whereof they were composed.\nBut how shall I, O auspicious King Shahryar, avail to give thee\nany notion of those Jinn-made dishes or to describe with due meed\nof praise the delicious flavour of meats such as no mortal ever\ntasted or ever beheld? Then, when both had supped, they drank the\nchoicest wines, and ate with relish sweet conserves and dry fruit\nand a dessert of various delicacies. At length, when they had\ntheir requirement of eating and drinking, they retired into\nanother room which contained a raised dais of the grandest,\nbedecked with gold-purfled cushions and pillows wrought with\nseed-pearl and Ach menian tapestries, whereupon they took seat\nside by side for converse and solace. Then came in a troop of\nJinns and fairies who danced and sang before them with wondrous\ngrace and art; and this pretty show pleased Peri-Banu and Prince\nAhmad, who watched the sports and displays with ever-renewed\ndelight. At last the newly wedded couple rose and retired, weary\nof revelry, to another chamber, wherein they found that the\nslaves had dispread the genial bed, whose frame was gold studded\nwith jewels and whose furniture was of satin and sendal flowered\nwith the rarest embroidery. Here the guests who attended at the\nmarriage festival and the handmaids of the palace, ranged in two\nlines, hailed the bride and bridegroom as they went within; and\nthen, craving dismissal, they all departed leaving them to take\ntheir joyance in bed. On such wise the marriage-festival and\nnuptial merry-makings were kept up day after day, with new dishes\nand novel sports, novel dances and new music; and, had Prince\nAhmad lived a thousand years with mortal kind, never could he\nhave seen such revels or heard such strains or enjoyed such\nlove-liesse. Thus six months soon passed in the Fairy-land beside\nPeri-Banu, whom he loved with a love so fond that he would not\nlose her from his sight for a moment's space; but would feel\nrestless and ill-at-ease whenas he ceased to look upon her. In\nlike manner Peri-Banu was fulfilled with affection for him and\nstrove to please her bridegroom more and more every moment by new\narts of dalliance and fresh appliances of pleasure, until so\nabsorbing waxed his passion for her that the thought of home and\nkindred, kith and kin, faded from his thoughts and fled his mind.\nBut after a time his memory awoke from slumber and at times he\nfound himself longing to look upon his father, albeit well did he\nwot that it were impossible to find out how the far one fared\nunless he went himself to visit him. So one day quoth he to\nPeri-Banu, \"An it be thy pleasure, I pray thee give me thy\ncommand that I may leave thee for a few days to see my sire, who\ndoubtless grieveth at my long absence and suffereth all the\nsorrows of separation from his son.\" Peri-Banu, hearing these\nwords was dismayed with sore dismay, for that she thought within\nherself that this was only an excuse whereby he might escape and\nleave her after enjoyment and possession had made her love pall\nupon the palate of his mind. So quoth she in reply, \"Hast thou\nforgotten thy vows and thy plighted troth, that thou wishest to\nleave me now? Have love and longing ceased to stir thee, whilst\nmy heart always throbbeth in raptures as it hath ever done at the\nvery thought of thee?\" Replied the Prince, \"O dearling of my\nsoul, my queen, my empress, what be these doubts that haunt thy\nmind, and why such sad misgivings and sorrowful words? I know\nfull well that the love of thee and thine affection me-wards are\neven as thou sayest; and did I not acknowledge this truth or did\nI prove unthankful or fail to regard thee with a passion as warm\nand deep, as tender and as true as thine own, I were indeed an\ningrate and a traitor of the darkest dye. Far be it from me to\ndesire severance from thee nor hath any thought of leaving thee\nnever to return at any time crossed my mind. But my father is now\nan old man well shotten in years and he is sore grieved in mind\nat this long separation from his youngest son. If thou wilt deign\ncommand, I would fain go visit him and with all haste return to\nthine arms; yet I would not do aught in this matter against thy\nwill; and such is my fond affection for thee that I would fain be\nat all hours of the day and watches of the night by thy side nor\nleave thee for a moment of time.\" Peri-Banu was somewhat\ncomforted by this speech; and from his looks, words and acts she\nwas certified that Prince Ahmad really loved her with fondest\nlove and that his heart was true as steel to her as was his\ntongue. Whereupon she granted him leave and liberty to set forth\nand see his sire, whilst at the same time she gave him strict\ncommandment not to tarry long with his kith and kin. Hearken now,\nO auspicious King Shahryar, to what befel the Sultan of Hindostan\nand how it fared with him after the marriage of Prince Ali to\nPrincess Nur al-Nihar.--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad\nheld her peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Fifty-fourth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that not seeing\nPrince Husayn and Prince Ahmad for the space of many days the\nSultan waxed exceeding sad and heavy-hearted, and one morning\nafter Darbar,[FN#336] asked his Wazirs and Ministers what had\nbetided them and where they were. Hereto the councillors made\nanswer saying, \"O our lord, and shadow of Allah upon earth, thine\neldest son and fruit of thy vitals and heir apparent to thine\nEmpire the Prince Husayn, in his disappointment and jealousy and\nbitter grief hath doffed his royal robes to become a hermit, a\ndevotee, renouncing all worldly lusts and gusts. Prince Ahmad thy\nthird son also in high dudgeon hath left the city; and of him\nnone knoweth aught, whither he hath fled or what hath befallen\nhim.\" The King was sore distressed and bade them write without\nstay or delay and forthright despatch firmans and commands to all\nthe Nabobs and Governors of the provinces, with strict\ninjunctions to make straight search for Prince Ahmad and to send\nhim to his sire the moment he was found. But, albeit the\ncommandments were carried out to the letter and all the seekers\nused the greatest diligence none came upon any trace of him.\nThen, with increased sadness of heart, the Sultan ordered his\nGrand Wazir to go in quest of the fugitive and the Minister\nreplied, \"Upon my head be it and mine eyes! Thy servant hath\nalready caused most careful research to be made in every quarter,\nbut not the smallest clue hath yet come to hand: and this matter\ntroubleth me the more for that he was dear to me as a son.\" The\nMinisters and Grandees now understood that the King was\noverwhelmed with woe, tearful-eyed and heavy-hearted by reason of\nthe loss of Prince Ahmad; whereupon bethought the Grand Wazir of\na certain witch famed for the Black Art who could conjure down\nthe stars from heaven; and who was a noted dweller in the\ncapital. So going to the Sultan he spake highly of her skill in\nknowledge of the abstruse,[FN#337] saying \"Let the King, I pray\nthee, send for this sorceress and enquire of her concerning his\nlost son.\" And the King replied, \"'Tis well said: let her be\nbrought hither and haply she shall give me tidings of the Prince\nand how he fareth.\" So they fetched the Sorceress and set her\nbefore the Sultan, who said, \"O my good woman, I would have thee\nknow that ever since the marriage of Prince Ali with the Lady Nur\nal-Nihar, my youngest son Prince Ahmad,[FN#338] who was\ndisappointed in her love, hath disappeared from our sight and no\nman knoweth aught of him. Do thou forthright apply thy magical\ncraft and tell me only this:--Is he yet alive or is he dead? An\nhe live I would learn where is he and how fareth he; moreover, I\nwould ask, Is it written in my book of Destiny that I shall see\nhim yet again?\" To this the Witch made reply, \"O Lord of the Age\nand ruler of the times and tide, 'tis not possible for me at once\nto answer all these questions which belong to the knowledge of\nHidden Things; but, if thy Highness deign grant me one day of\ngrace, I will consult my books of gramarye and on the morrow will\ngive thee a sufficient reply and a satisfactory.\" The Sultan to\nthis assented, saying, \"An thou can give me detailed and adequate\nanswer, and set my mind at ease after this sorrow, thou shalt\nhave an exceeding great reward and I will honour thee with\nhighmost honour.\" Next day the Sorceress, accompanied by the\nGrand Wazir, craved permission to appear before the presence, and\nwhen it was granted came forward and said, \"I have made ample\ninvestigation by my art and mystery and I have assured myself\nthat Prince Ahmad is yet in the land of the living. Be not\ntherefore uneasy in thy mind on his account; but at present, save\nthis only, naught else can I discover regarding him, nor can I\nsay for sure where he be or how he is to be found.\" At these\nwords the Sultan took comfort, and hope sprang up within his\nbreast that he should see his son again ere he died. Now return\nwe to the story of Prince Ahmad. Whenas Peri-Banu understood that\nhe was bent upon visiting his sire and she was convinced that his\nlove her-wards remained firm and steadfast as before, she took\nthought and determined that it would ill become her to refuse him\nleave and liberty for such purpose; so she again pondered the\nmatter in her mind and debated with herself for many an hour till\nat length, one day of the days, she turned to her husband and\nsaid, \"Albeit my heart consenteth not to part from thee for a\nmoment or to lose sight of thee for a single instant, still\ninasmuch as thou hast ofttimes made entreaty of me and hast shown\nthyself so solicitous to see thy sire, I will no longer baffle\nthy wish. But this my favour will depend upon one condition;\notherwise I will never grant thy petition and give thee such\npermission. Swear to me the most binding of oaths that thou wilt\nhaste thee back hither with all possible speed, and thou wilt not\nby long absence cause me yearning grief and anxious waiting for\nthy safe return to me.\" Prince Ahmad, well pleased to win his\nwish, thanked her saying, \"O my beloved, fear not for me after\nany fashion and rest assured I will come back to thee with all\nhaste as soon as I shall have seen my sire; and life hath no\ncharms for me away from thy presence. Although I must needs be\nsevered from thee for a few days, yet will my heart ever turn to\nthee and to thee only.\" These words of Prince Ahmad gladdened the\nheart of Peri-Banu and drove away the darksome doubts and\nmysterious misgivings which ever haunted her nightly dreams and\nher daily musings.--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held\nher peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Fifty-fifth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Peri-Banu\ngladdened by these premises addressed her husband, Prince Ahmad,\n\"So now, as soon as thy heart desireth, go thou and pay thy\nrespects to thy sire; but ere thou set out I would charge thee\nwith one charge and look that on no wise thou forget my rede and\nmy counsel. Speak not to any a single word of this thy marriage\nnor of the strange sights thou hast seen and the wonders thou\nhast witnessed; but keep them carefully concealed from thy father\nand thy brethren and from thy kith and kin, one and all. This\nonly shalt thou tell thy sire, so his mind may be set at ease\nthat thou art buxom and happy; also that thou hast returned home\nfor a while only with the object of seeing him and becoming\nassured of his welfare.\" Then she gave orders to her people\nbidding them make ready for the journey without delay; and when\nall things were prepared she appointed twenty horsemen, armed\ncap-a-pie and fully accoutred, to accompany her husband, and gave\nhim a horse of perfect form and proportions, swift as the\nblinding leven or the rushing wind; and its housings and\nfurniture were bedeckt with precious ores and studded with\njewels. Then she fell on his neck and they embraced with warmest\nlove; and as the twain bade adieu, Prince Ahmad, to set her mind\nat rest, renewed his protestations and sware to her again his\nsolemn oath. Then mounting his horse and followed by his suite\n(all Jinn-born cavaliers) he set forth with mighty pomp and\ncircumstance, and riding diligently he soon reached his father's\ncapital. Here he was received with loud acclamations, the like of\nwhich had never been known in the land. The Ministers and\nOfficers of State, the citizens and the Ryots all rejoiced with\nexceeding joy to see him once more, and the folk left their work\nand with blessings and low obeisances joined the cavalcade; and,\ncrowding around him on every side, escorted him to the palace\ngates. When the Prince reached the threshold he dismounted and,\nentering the audience-hall, fell at his father's feet and kissed\nthem in a transport of filial affection. The Sultan, well nigh\ndistraught for delight at the unexpected sight of Prince Ahmad,\nrose from his throne and threw himself upon his son's neck\nweeping for very joy and kissed his forehead saying, \"O dear my\nchild, in despair at the loss of the Lady Nur al-Nihar thou didst\nsuddenly fly from thy home, and, despite all research, nor trace\nnor sign of thee was to be found however sedulously we sought\nthee; and I, distracted at thy disappearance, am reduced to this\ncondition in which thou seest me. Where hast thou been this long\nwhile, and how hast thou lived all this time?\" Replied Prince\nAhmad, \"'Tis true, O my lord the King, that I was downhearted and\ndistressed to see Prince Ali gain the hand of my cousin, but that\nis not the whole cause of my absence. Thou mayest remember how,\nwhen we three brothers rode at thy command to yonder plain for a\ntrial of archery, my shaft, albeit the place was large and flat,\ndisappeared from sight and none could find where it had fallen.\nNow so it fortuned that one day in sore heaviness of mind I fared\nforth alone and unaccompanied to examine the ground thereabout\nand try if haply I could find my arrow. But when I reached the\nspot where the shafts of my brothers, Princes Husayn and Ali, had\nbeen picked up, I made search in all directions, right and left,\nbefore and behind, thinking that thereabouts mine also might come\nto hand; but all my trouble was in vain: I found neither shaft\nnor aught else. So walking onwards in obstinate research, I went\na long way, and at last despairing, I would have given up the\nquest, for full well I knew that my bow could not have carried so\nfar, and indeed that 'twere impossible for any marksman to have\ndriven bolt or pile to such distance, when suddenly I espied it\nlying flat upon a rock some four parasangs[FN#339] distant from\nthis place.\" The Sultan marvelled with much marvel at his words\nand the Prince presently resumed, \"So when I picked up the arrow,\nO my lord, and considered it closely I knew it for the very one I\nhad shot, but admired in my mind how it had come to fly so far,\nand I doubted not but that there was a somewhat mysterious about\nthe matter. While I thus reflected I came upon the place where I\nhave sojourned ever since that day in perfect solace and\nhappiness. I may not tell thee more of my tale than this; for I\ncame only to ease thy mind on my account, and now I pray thee\ndeign grant me thy supreme permission that I return forthright to\nmy home of delights. From time to time I will not cease to wait\nupon thee and to enquire of thy welfare with all the affection of\na son.\" Replied the King, \"O my child, the sight of thee hath\ngladdened mine eyes; and I am now satisfied; and not unwillingly\nI give thee leave to go, since thou art happy in some place so\nnear hand; but shouldst thou at any time delay thy coming hither,\nsay me, how shall I be able to get tidings of thy good health and\nwelfare?\" And quoth Prince Ahmad, \"O my lord the King, that which\nthou requirest of me is part of my secret and this must remain\ndeep hidden in my breast: as I said before, I may not discover it\nto thee nor say aught that might lead to its discovery. However,\nbe not uneasy in thy soul, for I will appear before thee full\nmany a time and haply I may irk thee with continual coming.\" \"O\nmy son,\" rejoined the Sultan, \"I would not learn thy secret an\nthou would keep it from me, but there is one only thing I desire\nof thee, which is, that ever and anon I may be assured of thine\nenduring health and happiness. Thou hast my full permission to\nhie thee home, but forget not at least once a month to come and\nsee me even as now thou dost, lest such forgetfulness cause me\nanxiety and trouble, cark and care.\" So Prince Ahmad tarried with\nhis father three days full-told, but never for a moment did the\nmemory of the Lady Peri-Banu fade from his mind; and on the\nfourth day he mounted horse and returned with the same pomp and\npageantry wherewith he came.--And as the morn began to dawn\nShahrazad held her peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Fifty-sixth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Peri-Banu\njoyed with exceeding joy at the sight of Prince Ahmad as he\nreturned to his home; and it seemed to her as though they had\nbeen parted for three hundred years: such is love that moments of\nseparation are longsome and weary as twelvemonths. The Prince\noffered much of excuses for his short absence and his words\ndelighted Peri-Banu yet the more. So these twain, lover and\nbeloved, passed the time in perfect happiness, taking their\npleasure one with other. Thus a month went by and Prince Ahmad\nnever once mentioned the name of his sire nor expressed a wish to\ngo visit him according to his promise. Noting this change, the\nLady Peri-Banu said to him one day, \"Thou toldest me aforetime\nthat once in the beginning of each month thou wouldst fare forth\nand travel to thy father's court and learn news of his welfare:\nwhy then neglectest thou so to do, seeing that he will be\ndistressed and anxiously expecting thee?\" Replied Prince Ahmad,\n\"'Tis even as thou sayest, but, awaiting thy command and thy\npermission, I have forborne to propose the journey to thee.\" And\nshe made answer, \"Let thy faring and thy returning rest not on my\ngiving thee liberty of leave. At the beginning of each month as\nit cometh round, do thou ride forth, and from this time forwards\nthou hast no need to ask permission of me. Stay with thy sire\nthree days full-told and on the fourth come back to me without\nfail.\" Accordingly, on the next day betimes in the morning Prince\nAhmad took his departure and as aforetime rode forth with\nabundant pomp and parade and repaired to the palace of the Sultan\nhis sire, to whom he made his obeisance. On like manner continued\nhe to do each month with a suite of horsemen larger and more\nbrilliant than before, whilst he himself was more splendidly\nmounted and equipped. And whenever the Crescent appeared in the\nWestern sky he fondly farewelled his wife and paid his visit to\nthe King, with whom he tarried three whole days, and on the\nfourth returned to dwell with Peri-Banu. But, as each and every\ntime he went, his equipage was greater and grander than the last,\nat length one of the Wazirs, a favourite and cup-companion of the\nKing, was filled with wonderment and jealousy to see Prince Ahmad\nappear at the palace with such opulence and magnificence. So he\nsaid in himself, \"None can tell whence cometh this Prince, and by\nwhat means he hath obtained so splendid a suite.\" Then of his\nenvy and malice that Wazir fell to plying the King with deceitful\nwords and said, \"O my liege lord and mighty sovran, it ill\nbecometh thee to be thus heedless of Prince Ahmad's proceedings.\nSeest thou not how day after day his retinue increaseth in\nnumbers and puissance? What an he should plot against thee and\ncast thee into prison, and take from thee the reins of the realm?\nRight well thou wottest that inasmuch as thou didst wed Prince\nAli to the Lady Nur al-Nihar thou provokedest the wrath of Prince\nHusayn and Prince Ahmad; so that one of them in the bitterness of\nhis soul renounced the pomps and vanities of this world and hath\nbecome a Fakir, whilst the other, to wit; Prince Ahmad, appeareth\nbefore thy presence in such inordinate power and majesty.\nDoubtless they both seek their revenge; and, having gotten thee\ninto their power, the twain will deal treacherously with thee. So\nI would have thee beware, and again I say beware; and seize the\nforelock of opportunity ere it be too late; for the wise have\nsaid,\n\n'Thou canst bar a spring with a sod of clay * But when grown\n'twill bear a big host away.'\"\n\nThus spake that malicious Wazir; and presently he resumed, \"Thou\nknowest also that when Prince Ahmad would end his three days'\nvisits he never asketh thy leave nor farewelleth thee nor biddeth\nadieu to any one of his family. Such conduct is the beginning of\nrebellion and proveth him to be rancorous of heart. But 'tis for\nthee in thy wisdom to decide.\" These words sank deep in the heart\nof the simple-minded Sultan and grew a crop of the direst\nsuspicions. He presently thought within himself, \"Who knoweth the\nmind and designs of Prince Ahmad, whether they be dutiful or\nundutiful towards me? Haply he may be plotting vengeance; so it\nbesitteth me to make enquiries concerning him, to discover where\nhe dwelleth and by what means he hath attained to such puissance\nand opulence.\" Filled with these jealous thoughts, he sent in\nprivate one day, unbeknown to the Grand Wazir who would at all\ntimes befriend Prince Ahmad, to summon the Witch; and, admitting\nher by a secret postern to his private chamber, asked of her\nsaying, \"Thou didst aforetime learn by thy magical art that\nPrince Ahmad was alive and didst bring me tidings of him. I am\nbeholden to thee for this good office, and now I would desire of\nthee to make further quest into his case and ease my mind, which\nis sore disturbed. Albeit my son still liveth and cometh to visit\nme every month, yet am I clean ignorant of the place wherein he\ndwelleth and whence he setteth out to see me; for that he keepeth\nthe matter close hidden from his sire. Go thou forthright and\nprivily, without the knowledge of any, my Wazirs and Nabobs, my\ncourtiers and my household; and make thou diligent research and\nwith all haste bring me word whereabouts he liveth. He now\nsojourneth here upon his wonted visit; and, on the fourth day,\nwithout leave-taking or mention of departure to me or to any of\nthe Ministers and Officers, he will summon his suite and mount\nhis steed; then will he ride to some little distance hence and\nsuddenly disappear. Do thou without stay or delay forego him on\nthe path and lie perdue in some convenient hollow hard by the\nroad whence thou mayest learn where he hometh; then quickly bring\nme tidings thereof.\" Accordingly, the Sorceress departed the\npresence of the King; and, after walking over the four parasangs,\nshe hid herself within a hollow of the rocks hard by the place\nwhere Prince Ahmad had found his arrow, and there awaited his\narrival. Early on the morrow the Prince, as was his wont, set out\nupon his journey without taking leave of his sire or fare welling\nany of the Ministers. So when they drew nigh, the Sorceress\ncaught sight of the Prince and of the retinue that rode before\nand beside him; and she saw them enter a hollow way which forked\ninto a many of by-ways; and so steep and dangerous were the\ncliffs and boulders about the track that hardly could a footman\nsafely pace that path. Seeing this the Sorceress bethought her\nthat it must surely lead to some cavern or haply to a\nsubterraneous passage, or to a souterrain the abode of Jinns and\nfairies; when suddenly the Prince and all his suite vanished from\nher view. So she crept out of the hiding-place wherein she had\nensconced herself and wandered far and wide seeking, as\ndillgently as she was able, but never finding the subterraneous\npassage nor yet could she discern the iron door which Prince\nAhmad had espied, for none of human flesh and blood had power to\nsee this save he alone to whom it was made visible by the Fairy\nPeri-Banu; furthermore it was ever concealed from the prying eyes\nof womankind. Then said the Sorceress to herself, This toil and\nmoil have I undertaken to no purpose; yea, verily, I have failed\nto find out that wherefor I came.\" So she went forthright back to\nthe Sultan and reported to him all that had betided her, how she\nhad lain in wait amid the cliffs and boulders and had seen the\nPrince and suite ride up the most perilous of paths and, having\nentered a hollow way, disappear in an eyetwinkling from her\nsight. And she ended by saying, \"Albeit I strove my utmost to\nfind out the spot wherein the Prince abideth, yet could I on no\nwise succeed; and I pray thy Highness may grant me time to search\nfurther into the matter and to find out this mystery which by\nskill and caution on my part shall not long abide concealed.\"\nAnswered the Sultan, \"Be it as thou wilt: I grant thee leisure to\nmake enquiry and after a time I shall await thy return\nhither.\"--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace\ntill\n\n      The end of the Six Hundred and Fifty-seventh Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that moreover\nthe King largessed the Witch with a diamond of large size and of\ngreat price, saying, \"Take this stone to guerdon for thy trouble\nand travail and in earnest of future favours; so, when thou shalt\nreturn and bring me word that thou hast searched and found out\nthe secret, thou shalt have a Bakhshish of far greater worth and\nI will make thy heart rejoice with choicest joy and honour thee\nwith highmost honour.\" So the Sorceress looked forwards to the\ncoming of the Prince, for well she knew that at the sight of each\ncrescent he rode home to visit his sire and was bound to abide\nwith him three days, even as the Lady Peri-Banu had permitted and\nhad enjoined him. Now when the moon had waxed and waned, on the\nday before the Prince would leave home upon his monthly visit,\nthe Witch betook her to the rocks and sat beside the place whence\nshe imagined he would issue forth; and next morning early he and\nhis suite, composed of many a mounted knight with his esquire\na-foot, who now always accompanied him in increasing numbers,\nrode forth gallantly through the iron doorway and passed hard by\nthe place where she lay in wait for him. The Sorceress crouched\nlow upon the ground in her tattered rags; and, seeing a heap by\nhis way, the Prince at first supposed that a slice of stone had\nfallen from the rocks across his path. But as he drew nigh she\nfell to weeping and wailing with might and main as though in sore\ndolour and distress, and she ceased not to crave his countenance\nand assistance with increase of tears and lamentations. The\nPrince seeing her sore sorrow had pity on her, and reining in his\nhorse, asked her what she had to require of him and what was the\ncause of her cries and lamentations. At this the cunning crone\nbut cried the more, and the Prince was affected with compassion\nstill livelier at seeing her tears and hearing her broken, feeble\nwords. So when the Sorceress perceived that Prince Ahmad had ruth\non her and would fain show favour to her, she heaved a heavy sigh\nand in woeful tones, mingled with moans and groans, addressed him\nin these false words, withal holding the hem of his garment and\nat times stopping as if convulsed with pain, \"O my lord and lord\nof all loveliness, as I was journeying from my home in yonder\ncity upon an errand to such a place, behold, when I came thus far\nupon my way, suddenly a hot fit of fever seized me and a\nshivering and a trembling, so that I lost all strength and fell\ndown helpless as thou seest me; and still no power have I in hand\nor foot to rise from the ground and to return to my place.\"\nReplied the Prince, \"Alas, O good woman, there is no house at\nhand where thou mayest go and be fitly tended and tendered.\nHowbeit I know a stead whither, an thou wilt, I can convey thee\nand where by care and kindness thou shalt (Inshallah!) soon\nrecover of thy complaint. Come then with me as best thou canst.\"\nWith loud moans and groans the Witch made answer, \"So weak am I\nin every limb and helpless that I can by no means rise off the\nground or move save with the help of some friendly hand.\" The\nPrince then bade one of his horsemen lift up the feeble and\nailing old woman and set her upon his steed; and the cavalier did\nhis lord's bidding forthright and mounted her astraddle upon the\ncrupper of his courser: then, Prince Ahmad rode back with her and\nentering by the iron door carried her to his apartment and sent\nfor Peri-Banu. His wife hurriedly coming forth to the Prince\nasked him in her flurry, \"Is all well and wherefore hast thou\ncome back and what wouldst thou that thou hast sent for me?\"\nPrince Ahmad then told her of the old woman who was healthless\nand helpless, adding, \"Scarce had I set out on my journey when I\nespied this ancient dame lying hard by the roadside, suffering\nand in sore distress. My heart felt pity for her to see her in\nsuch case and constrained me to bring her hither as I could not\nleave her to die among the rocks; and I pray thee of thy bounty\ntake her in and give her medicines that she may soon be made\nwhole of this her malady. An thou wilt show this favour I shall\nnot cease to thank thee and be beholden to thee.\" --And as the\nmorn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Fifty-eighth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Peri-Banu\nlooked at the old woman and charged a twain of her handmaidens\nthat they carry her into a room apart and tend her with the\ntenderest care and the uttermost of diligence. The attendants did\nas she bade them and transported the Sorceress to the place she\nhad designed. Then Peri-Banu addressed Prince Ahmad saying, \"O my\nlord, I am pleased to see thy pitiful kindness towards this\nancient dame, and I surely will look to her case even as thou\nhast enjoined me; but my heart misgiveth me and much I fear some\nevil will result from thy goodness. This woman is not so ill as\nshe doth make believe, but practiseth deceit upon thee and I ween\nthat some enemy or envier hath plotted a plot against me and\nthee. Howbeit go now in peace upon thy journey.\" The Prince, who\non no wise took to heart the words of his wife, presently replied\nto her, \"O my lady, Almighty Allah forfend thee from all offence!\nWith thee to help and guard me I fear naught of ill: I know of no\nfoeman who would compass my destruction, for I bear no grudge\nagainst any living being, and I foresee no evil at the hands of\nman or Jann.\" Thereupon the Prince again took leave of Peri-Banu\nand repaired with his attendants to the palace of his sire who,\nby reason of the malice of his crafty Minister, was inwardly\nafraid to see his son; but not the less he welcomed him with\ngreat outward show of love and affection. Meanwhile the two fairy\nhandmaidens, to whom Peri-Banu had given charge of the Witch,\nbore her away to a spacious room splendidly furnished; and laid\nher on a bed having a mattress of satin and a brocaded coverlet.\nThen one of them sat by her side whilst the other with all speed\nfetched, in a cup of porcelain, an essence which was a sovereign\ndraught for ague and fever. Presently they raised her up and\nseated her on the couch saying, \"Drain thou this drink. It is the\nwater of the Lions' Fount and whoso tasteth of the same is\nforthwith made whole of what disease soever he hath.\" The\nSorceress took the cup with great difficulty and after swallowing\nthe contents lay back on the bed; and the handmaidens spread the\nquilt over her saying, \"Now rest awhile and thou shalt soon feel\nthe virtues of this medicine.\" Then they left her to sleep for an\nhour or so; but presently the Witch, who had feigned sickness to\nthe intent only that she might learn where Prince Ahmad abode and\nmight inform the Sultan thereof, being assured that she had\ndiscovered all that she desired, rose up and summoning the\ndamsels said to them, \"The drinking of that draught hath restored\nto me all my health and strength: I now feel hale and hearty once\nmore and my limbs are filled with new life and vigour. So at once\nacquaint your lady herewith, that I may kiss the hem of her robe\nand return my thanks for her goodness me-wards, then depart and\nhie me home again.\" Accordingly, the two handmaidens took the\nSorceress with them and showed her as they went along the several\napartments, each more magnificent and kingly than the other; and\nat length they reached the belvedere which was the noblest saloon\nof all, and fitted and filled with furniture exceeding costly and\ncurious. There sat Peri-Banu upon a throne which was adorned with\ndiamonds and rubies, emeralds, pearls and other gems of unwonted\nsize and water, whilst round about her stood fairies of lovely\nform and features, robed in the richest raiments and awaiting\nwith folded hands her commandments. The Sorceress marvelled with\nextreme marvel to see the splendour of the chambers and their\nfurniture, but chiefly when she beheld the Lady Peri-Banu seated\nupon the jewelled throne; nor could she speak a word for\nconfusion and awe, but she bent down low and placed her head upon\nPeri-Banu's feet. Quoth the Princess in soft speech and\nreassuring tones, \"O good woman, it pleaseth me greatly to see\nthee a guest in this my palace, and I joy even more to learn that\nthou be wholly quit of thy sickness. So now solace thy spirits\nwith walking all round about the place and my servants will\naccompany thee and show thee what there is worthy of thine\ninspection.\" Hereat the Witch again louted low and kissed the\ncarpet under Peri-Banu's feet, and took leave of her hostess in\ngoodly phrase and with great show of gratitude for her favours.\nThe handmaids then led her round the palace and displayed to her\nall the rooms, which dazed and dazzled her sight so that she\ncould not find words to praise them sufficiently. Then she went\nher ways and the fairies escorted her past the iron doorway\nwhereby Prince Ahmad had brought her in, and left her, bidding\nher God-speed and blessing her; and the foul crone with many\nthanks took the road to her own home. But when she had walked to\nsome distance she was minded to see the iron door, so might she\nwith ease know it again; so she went back, but lo and behold! the\nentrance had vanished and was invisible to her as to all other\nwomen. Accordingly, after searching on all sides and pacing to\nand fro and finding nor sign nor trace of palace or portal, she\nrepaired in despair to the city and, creeping along a deserted\npath-way, entered the palace, according to her custom, by the\nprivate postern. When safely within she straightway sent word by\nan eunuch to the Sultan, who ordered that she be brought before\nhim. She approached him with troubled countenance, whereat,\nperceiving that she had failed to carry out her purpose, he\nasked, \"What news? Hast thou accomplished thy design or hast thou\nbeen baffled therein?\" --And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad\nheld her peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Fifty-ninth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the\nSorceress, who was a mere creature of the malicious Wazir,\nreplied, \"O King of kings, this matter have I fully searched out\neven as thou gavest command, and I am about to tell thee all that\nhath betided me. The signs of sorrow and marks of melancholy thou\nnotest upon my countenance are for other cause which narrowly\nconcerneth thy welfare.\" Then she began to recount her adventure\nin these terms, \"Now when I had reached the rocks I sat me down\nfeigning sickness; and, as Prince Ahmad passed that way and heard\nmy complaining and saw my grievous condition, he had compassion\non me. After some 'said and say' he took me with him by a\nsubterranean passage and through an iron door to a magnificent\npalace and gave me in charge of a fairy, Peri-Banu hight, of\npassing beauty and loveliness, such as human eye hath never yet\nseen. Prince Ahmad bade her make me her guest for some few days\nand bring me a medicine which would complete my cure, and she to\nplease him at once appointed handmaidens to attend upon me. So I\nwas certified that the twain were one flesh, husband and wife. I\nfeigned to be exceeding frail and feeble and made as though I had\nnot strength to walk or even to stand; whereat the two damsels\nsupported me, one on either side, and I was carried into a room\nwhere they gave me somewhat to drink and put me upon a bed to\nrest and sleep. Then thought I to myself:--'Verily I have gained\nthe object wherefor I had feigned sickness'; and I was assured\nthat it availed no more to practise deceit. Accordingly, after a\nshort while I arose and said to the attendants that the draught\nwhich they had given me to drink had cut short the fever and had\nrestored strength to my limbs and life to my frame. Then they led\nme to the presence of the Lady Peri-Banu, who was exceeding\npleased to see me once more hale and hearty, and bade her\nhandmaidens conduct me around the palace and show each room in\nits beauty and splendour; after which I craved leave to wend my\nways and here am I again to work thy will.\" When thus she had\nmade known to the King all that had betided her, she resumed,\n\"Perchance, on hearing of the might and majesty, opulence and\nmagnificence of the Lady Peri-Banu, thou wilt be gladdened and\nsay within thyself, ''Tis well that Prince Ahmad is wedded to\nthis Fairy and hath gotten for himself such wealth and power;'\nbut to the thinking of this thy slave the matter is quite other.\nIt is not well, I dare avouch, that thy son should possess such\npuissance and treasures, for who knoweth but that he may by good\naid of Peri-Banu bring about division and disturbance in the\nrealm? Beware of the wiles and malice of women. The Prince is\nbewitched with love of her, and peradventure at her incitement he\nmay act towards thee otherwise than right, and lay hands on thy\nhoards and seduce thy subjects and become master of thy kingdom;\nand albeit he would not of his own free will do aught to his\nfather and his forbears save what was pious and dutiful, yet the\ncharms of his Princess may work upon him little by little and end\nby making him a rebel and what more I may not say. Now mayest\nthou see that the matter is a weighty, so be not heedless but\ngive it full consideration.\" Then the Sorceress made ready to\ngang her gait when spake the King, saying, \"I am beholden to thee\nin two things; the first, that thou tookest upon thyself much\ntoil and travail, and on my behalf riskedst thy life to learn the\ntruth anent my son Prince Ahmad. Secondly, I am thankful for that\nthou hast given me a rede so sound and such wholesome counsel.\"\nSo saying, he dismissed her with the highmost honour; but no\nsooner had she left the palace than he, sore distraught, summoned\nhis second Wazir, the malicious Minister who had incited him\nagainst Prince Ahmad, and when he and his friends appeared in the\npresence he laid before them the whole matter and asked of them,\nsaying, \"What is your counsel, and what must I do to protect\nmyself and my kingdom against the wiles of this Fairy?\" Replied\none of his councillors, \"'Tis but a trifling matter and the\nremedy is simple and nearhand. Command that Prince Ahmad, who is\nnow within the city if not in the palace, be detained as one\ntaken prisoner. Let him not be put to death, lest haply the deed\nmay engender rebellion; but at any rate place him under arrest\nand if he prove violent clap him in irons.\"--And as the morn\nbegan to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n         The end of the Six Hundred and Sixtieth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that this felon\ncounsel pleased the malicious Minister and all his fautors and\nflatterers highly approved his rede. The Sultan kept silence and\nmade no reply, but on the morrow he sent and summoned the\nSorceress and debated with her whether he should or should not\ncast Prince Ahmad into prison. Quoth she, \"O King of kings, this\ncounsel is clean contrary to sound sense and right reason. An\nthou throw Prince Ahmad into gaol, so must thou also do with all\nhis knights and their esquires; and inasmuch as they are Jinns\nand M\u00e1rids, who can tell their power of reprisals? Nor\nprison-cells nor gates of adamant can keep them in; they will\nforthwith escape and report such violence to the Fairy who, wroth\nwith extreme wrath to find her husband doomed to durance vile\nlike a common malefactor, and that too for no default or crime\nbut by a treacherous arrest, will assuredly deal the direst of\nvengeance on thy head and do us a damage we shall not be able to\nforfend. An thou wilt confide in me, I will advise thee how to\nact, whereby thou mayest win thy wish and no evil will come nigh\nthee or thy kingship. Thou knowest well that to Jinns and Fairies\nis power given of doing in one short moment deeds marvellous and\nwondrous, which mortals fail to effect after long years of toil\nand trouble. Now whenas thou goest a-hunting or on other\nexpedition, thou requirest pavilions for thyself and many tents\nfor thy retinue and attendants and soldiery; and in making ready\nand transporting such store much time and wealth are wastefully\nexpended. I would advise, O King of kings, that thou try Prince\nAhmad by the following test: do thou bid him bring to thee a\nSh\u00e1hmiy\u00e1nah[FN#340] so long and so broad that it will cover and\nlodge the whole of thy court and men-at-arms and camp-followers,\nlikewise the beasts of burthen; and yet it must be so light that\na man may hold it in the hollow of his hand and carry it\nwhithersoever he listeth.\" Then, after holding her peace for a\nwhile, she added, still addressing the Sultan, \"And as soon as\nPrince Ahmad shall acquit himself of this commission, do thou\ndemand of him a somewhat still greater and more wondrous\nwherewith I will make thee ware, and which he will find grievous\nof execution. On this wise shalt thou fill thy treasury with rare\ninventions and strange, the handicraft of J\u00e1nn, nor will this\ncease till such time in fine when thy son shall be at his wits'\nend to carry out thy requirements. Then, humbled and abashed, he\nwill never dare to enter thy capital or even thy presence; and\nthus shalt thou be saved from fear of harm at his hands, and thou\nshalt not have need to put him in gaol or, worse still, to do him\ndead.\" Hearing these words of wisdom, the Sultan made known the\nWitch's device to his advisers and asked them what they deemed\nthereof. They held their peace and answered not a word or good or\nill; while he himself highly approved it and said no more. Next\nday Prince Ahmad came to visit the King, who welcomed him with\noverflowing affection and clasping him to his bosom kissed him on\neyes and forehead. Long time they sat conversing on various\nsubjects, till at length the Sultan finding an occasion spake\nthus, \"O dear my son, O Ahmad, for many a day have I been sad at\nheart and sorrowful of soul because of separation from thee, and\nwhen thou camest back I was gladdened with great gladness at\nsight of thee, and albeit thou didst and dost still withhold from\nme the knowledge of thy whereabouts, I refrained from asking thee\nor seeking to find out thy secret, since it was not according to\nthy mind to tell me of thine abode. Now, however, I have heard\nsay that thou art wedded to a mighty Jinn\u00edyah[FN#341], of passing\nbeauty; and the tidings please me with the highmost possible\npleasure. I desire not to learn aught from thee concerning thy\nFairy-wife save whatso thou wouldst entrust to me of thine own\nfree will; but, say me, should I at any time require somewhat of\nthee, canst thou obtain it from her? Doth she regard thee with\nsuch favour that she will not deny thee anything thou askest of\nher?\" Quoth the Prince, \"O my lord, what dost thou demand of me?\nMy wife is devoted to her husband in heart and soul, so prithee\nlet me learn what it is thou wouldst have of me and her.\" Replied\nthe Sultan, Thou knowest that ofttimes I fare a-hunting or on\nsome foray and fray, when I have great need of tents and\npavilions and Shahmiyanahs, with herds and troops of camels and\nmules and other beasts of burden to carry the camp from place to\nplace. I would, therefore, that thou bring me a tent so light\nthat a man may carry it in the hollow of his hand, and yet so\nlarge that it may contain my court and all my host and camp and\nsuttlers and b\u00e2t-animals. An thou wouldst ask the Lady for this\ngift I know full well that she can give it; and hereby shalt thou\nsave me much of trouble in providing carriage for the tentage and\nspare me much waste and loss of beasts and men.\" The Prince\nreplied, \"O my sire the Sultan, trouble not thy thought. I will\nat once make known thy wish to my wife, the Lady Peri-Banu; and,\nalbeit little I wot an fairies have the faculty of making a\npavilion such as thou describest, or indeed (supposing that they\nhave such power), an she will grant me or not grant me her\naidance; and, moreover, although I cannot promise thee such\npresent, yet whatsoever lieth in my ability to do, that will I\ngladly do for thy service.\"--And as the morn began to dawn\nShahrazad held her peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Sixty-first Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that quoth the\nKing to Prince Ahmad, \"Shouldst thou perchance fail in this\nmatter and bring me not the gift required, O my son, I will never\nsee thy face again. A sorry husband thou, in good sooth, if thy\nwife refuse so mean a thing and hasten not to do all thou biddest\nher do; giving thee to see that thou art of small value and\nconsequence in her eyes, and that her love for thee is a quantity\nwell nigh to naught. But do thou, O my child, go forth and\nstraightway ask her for the tent. An she give it thee know thou\nshe desireth thee and thou art the dearest of all things to her;\nand I have been informed that she loveth thee with all her heart\nand soul and will by no means refuse thee aught thou requirest,\nwere it even the balls of her eyes.\" Now Prince Ahmad was ever\nwont to tarry three days each month with the Sultan his sire, and\nreturn to his spouse on the fourth; but this time he stayed two\ndays only and farewelled his father on the third. As he passed\ninto the palace Peri-Banu could not but note that he was sad at\nheart and downcast of face; so she asked of him, \"Is all well\nwith thee? Why hast thou come to-day and not tomorrow from the\npresence of the King thy father, and why carriest thou so triste\na countenance?\" Whereupon, after kissing her brow and fondly\nembracing her, he told her the whole matter, first to last, and\nshe made answer, \"I will speedily set thy mind at rest, for I\nwould not see thee so saddened for a moment longer. Howbeit, O my\nlove, from this petition of the Sultan thy sire I am certified\nthat his end draweth nigh, and he will soon depart this world to\nthe mercy of Allah the Almighty.[FN#342] Some enemy hath done\nthis deed and much of mischief hath made for thee; and the result\nis that thy father, all unmindful of his coming doom, cloth seek\ndiligently his own destruction.\" The Prince, anxious and alarmed,\nthus answered his wife, \"Almighty Allah be praised, the King my\nliege lord is in the best of health and showeth no sign of\ndisorder or decrepitude: 'tis but this morning I left him hale\nand hearty, and in very sooth I never saw him in better case.\nStrange, indeed, that thou shouldst ken what shall betide him\nbefore I have told thee aught concerning him, and especially how\nhe hath come to learn of our marriage and of our home.\" Quoth\nPeri-Banu, \"O my Prince, thou knowest what I said to thee whenas\nI saw the old dame whom thou broughtest hither as one afflicted\nwith the ague and fever. That woman, who is a Witch of Satan's\nbreed, hath disclosed to thy father all he sought to learn\nconcerning this our dwelling-place. And notwithstanding that I\nsaw full clearly she was nor sick nor sorry, but only feigning a\nfever, I gave her medicine to drink which cureth complaints of\nall kinds, and she falsely made believe that by its virtues she\nhad recovered health and strength. So when she came to take leave\nof me, I sent her with two of my damsels and bid them display to\nher every apartment in the palace together with its furniture and\ndecorations, that she might better know the condition of me and\nthee. Now all this did I on thy account only, for thou badest me\nshow compassion to the ancient woman and I was rejoiced to see\nher departing safe and sound and in the best of spirits. Save her\nalone, no human being had ever power to know aught of this place,\nmuch less to come hither.\" Prince Ahmad hearing these words\nthanked and praised her and said, \"O sun-faced beauty, I would\nbeg of thee to grant me a boon whereof my father hath made\nrequest of me; to wit, a Shahmiyanah of such dimensions that it\nmay shelter him and his many, his camp and bat-cattle and withal\nmay be carried in the hollow of the hand. An such marvel exist I\nwot not, yet would I do my utmost to procure it, and carry it to\nhim right loyally.\" Quoth she, \"Why trouble thyself for so small\na matter? I will forthright send for it and give it thee.\" Then\nshe summoned one of her handmaids who was treasurer to her and\nsaid, \"O Nur Jeh\u00e1n,[FN#343] go thou at once and bring me a\npavilion of such and such a fashion.\" So she fared forth without\ndelay and as quickly came back with the pavilion which, at her\nlady's bidding, she placed in the palm of Prince Ahmad's hand.\n--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Sixty-second Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Prince\nAhmad hent the pavilion in hand and thought to himself, \"What is\nthis Peri-Banu giveth me? Surely she doth make a mock of me.\" His\nwife, however, reading his mind in his face fell to laughing\naloud, and asked, \"What is it, O my dearling Prince? Dost thou\nthink that I am jesting and jibing at thee?\" Then she continued,\naddressing the treasurer Nur Jehan, \"Take now yon tent from\nPrince Ahmad and set it upon the plain that he may see its vast\nsize and know if it be such an one as required by the Sultan his\nsire.\" The handmaid took the pavilion and pitched it afar from\nthe Palace; and yet one end thereof reached thereto from the\nouter limit of the plain; and so immense was its size that (as\nPrince Ahmad perceived) there was room therein for all the King's\ncourt; and, were two armies ranged under it with their\ncamp-followers and b\u00e2t-animals, one would on no wise crowd or\ninconvenience the other. He then begged pardon of Peri-Banu\nsaying, \"I wot not that the Shahmiyanah was so prodigious of\nextent and of so marvellous a nature; wherefore I misdoubted when\nfirst I saw it.\" The Treasurer presently struck the tent and\nreturned it to the palm of his hand; then, without stay or delay,\nhe took horse and followed by his retinue rode back to the royal\npresence, where after obeisance and suit and service he presented\nthe tent. The Sultan also, at first sight of the gift, thought it\na small matter, but marvelled with extreme marvel to see its size\nwhen pitched, for it would have shaded his capital and its\nsuburbs. He was not, however, wholly satisfied, for the size of\nthe pavilion now appeared to him superfluous; but his son assured\nhim that it would always fit itself to its contents. He thanked\nthe Prince for bringing him so rare a present, saying, \"O my son,\nacquaint thy consort with my obligation to her and offer my\ngrateful thanks for this her bounteous gift. Now indeed know I of\na truth that she doth love thee with the whole of her heart and\nsoul and all my doubts and fears are well nigh set at rest.\" Then\nthe King commanded they should pack up the tent and store it with\nall care in the royal treasury. Now strange it is but true, that\nwhen the Sultan received this rare present from the Prince, the\nfear and doubt, the envy and jealousy of his son, which the Witch\nand the malicious Wazir and his other illadvisers had bred in his\nbreast, waxed greater and livelier than before; because he was\nnow certified that in very truth the Jinniyah was gracious beyond\nmeasure to her mate and that, notwithstanding the great wealth\nand power of the sovereign, she could outvie him in mighty deeds\nfor the aidance of her husband. Accordingly, he feared with\nexcessive fear lest haply she seek opportunity to slay him in\nfavour of the Prince whom she might enthrone in his stead. So he\nbade bring the Witch who had counselled him aforetime, and upon\nwhose sleight and malice he now mainly relied. When he related to\nher the result of her rede, she took thought for a while; then,\nraising her brow said, \"O King of kings, thou troublest thyself\nfor naught: thou needest only command Prince Ahmad to bring thee\nof the water of the Lions' Spring. He must perforce for his\nhonour's sake fulfil thy wish, and if he fail he will for very\nshame not dare to show his face again at court. No better plan\nthan this canst thou adopt; so look to it nor loiter on thy way.\"\nNext day at eventide, as the Sultan was seated in full Darbar\nsurrounded by his Wazirs and Ministers, Prince Ahmad came\nforwards and making due obeisance took seat by his side and below\nhim. Hereat, the King addressed him, as was his wont, with great\nshow of favour saying, \"It delighteth me mightily that thou hast\nbrought me the tent I required of thee; for surely in my Treasury\nthere be naught so rare and strange. Yet one other thing lack I,\nand couldst thou bring it me I shall rejoice with joy exceeding.\nI have heard tell that the Jinniyah, thy consort, maketh constant\nuse of a water which floweth from the Lions' Spring, the drinking\nwhereof doeth away with fevers and all other deadly diseases. I\nknow thou art anxious that I live in health; and thou wilt\ngladden me by bringing somewhat of that water, so I may drink\nthereof when occasion shall require, and well I wot that, as thou\nvaluest my love and affection thee wards, thou wilt not refuse to\ngrant me my request.\" Prince Ahmad on hearing this demand was\nstruck with surprise that his sire should so soon make a second\ndemand. So he kept silence awhile, thinking within himself, I\nhave managed by some means to obtain the tent from the Lady\nPeri-Banu, but Allah only knoweth how she will now act, and\nwhether this fresh request will or will not rouse her wrath.\nHowbeit I know that she will on no wise deny me any boon I may\nask of her.\" So after much hesitation Prince Ahmad made reply, \"O\nmy lord the King, I have no power to do aught in this matter,\nwhich resteth only with my spouse the Princess; yet will I\npetition her to give the water; and, if she vouchsafe consent I\nwill bring it straight to thee. Indeed I cannot promise thee such\nboon with all certainty: I would gladly do my endeavour in all\nand everything that can benefit thee, but to ask her for this\nwater is a work more weighty than asking for the tent.\" Next day\nthe Prince took his departure and returned to Peri-Banu; and\nafter loving embraces and greetings quoth he, \"O my lady and\nlight of my eyes, the Sultan my sire sendeth thee his grateful\nthanks for the granting of his wish; to wit, the pavilion; and\nnow he adventureth himself once more and, certified of thy bounty\nand beneficence, he would pray from thy hand the boon of a little\nwater from the Lions' Spring. Withal I would assure thee that an\nthe giving of this water please thee not, let the matter be clean\nforgotten; for to do all thou willest is my one and only wish.\"\nPeri-Banu made reply, \"Methinks the Sultan, thy sire, would put\nboth me and thee to the test by requiring such boons as those\nsuggested to him by the Sorceress.\" --And as the morn began to\ndawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Sixty-third Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Peri-Banu\nsaid further to Prince Ahmad, \"Natheless I will grant this\nlargesse also as the Sultan hath set his mind upon it, and no\nharm shall come therefrom to me or to thee, albe 'tis a matter of\ngreat risk and danger, and it is prompted by not a little of\nmalice and ungraciousness. But give careful heed to my words, nor\nneglect thou aught of them, or thy destruction is certain-sure. I\nnow will tell thee what to do. In the hall of yonder castle which\nriseth on that mountain is a fountain sentinelled by four lions\nfierce and ravening; and they watch and ward the path that\nleadeth thereto, a pair standing on guard whilst the other two\ntake their turn to rest, and thus no living thing hath power to\npass by them. Yet will I make known to thee the means whereby\nthou mayest win thy wish without any hurt or harm befalling thee\nfrom the furious beasts.\" Thus saying she drew from an ivory box\na clew of thread and, by means of a needle one of those wherewith\nshe had been plying her work, made thereof a ball. This she\nplaced in the hands of her husband, and said, \"First, be thou\ncareful that thou keep about thee with all diligence this ball,\nwhose use I shall presently explain to thee. Secondly, choose for\nthyself two horses of great speed, one for thine own riding,\nwhilst on the other thou shalt load the carcass of a freshly\nslaughtered sheep cut into four quarters. In the third place,\ntake with thee a phial wherewith I will provide thee, and this is\nfor carrying the water which thou, Inshallah--God willing--shalt\nbring back. As soon as the morn shall morrow do thou arise with\nthe light and go forth riding thy chosen steed and leading the\nother alongside of thee by the reins. When thou shalt reach the\niron portals which open upon the castle-court, at no great\ndistance from the gate, do thou cast the ball of thread upon the\nground before thee. Forthwith it will begin rolling onwards of\nits own will towards the castle door; and do thou follow it\nthrough the open entrance until such time as it stop its course.\nAt this moment thou shalt see the four lions; and the two that\nwake and watch will rouse the twain that sleep and rest. All four\nwill turn their jaws to the ground and growl and roar with\nhideous howlings, and make as though about to fall upon thee and\ntear thee limb from limb. However, fear not nor be dismayed, but\nride boldly on and throw to the ground from off the led-horse the\nsheep's quarters, one to each lion. See that thou alight not from\nthy steed, but gore his ribs with thy shovel stirrup[FN#344] and\nride with all thy might and main up to the basin which gathereth\nthe water. Here dismount and fill the phial whilst the lions will\nbe busied eating. Lastly, return with all speed and the beasts\nwill not prevent thy passing by them.\" Next day, at peep of morn,\nPrince Ahmad did according to all that Peri-Banu had bidden him\nand rode forth to the castle. Then, having passed through the\niron portals and crossed the court and opened the door, he\nentered the hall, where he threw the quarters of the sheep before\nthe lions, one to each, and speedily reached the Spring. He\nfilled his phial with water from the basin and hurried back with\nall haste. But when he had ridden some little distance he turned\nabout and saw two of the guardian lions following upon his track;\nhowever, he was on no wise daunted but drew his sabre from the\nsheath to prepare him for self-protection. Hereat one of the\ntwain seeing him bare his brand for defence, retired a little way\nfrom the road and, standing at gaze, nodded his head and wagged\nhis tail, as though to pray the Prince to put up his scymitar and\nto assure him that he might ride in peace and fear no peril. The\nother lion then sprang forwards ahead of him and kept close him,\nand the two never ceased to escort him until they reached the\ncity, nay even the gate of the Palace. The second twain also\nbrought up the rear till Prince Ahmad had entered the\nPalace-door; and, when they were certified of this, all four went\nback by the way they came. Seeing such wondrous spectacle, the\ntowns-folk all fled in dire dismay, albeit the enchanted beasts\nmolested no man; and presently some mounted horsemen espying\ntheir lord riding alone and unattended came up to him and helped\nhim alight. The Sultan was sitting in his audience-hall\nconversing with his Wazirs and Ministers when his son appeared\nbefore him; and Prince Ahmad, having greeted him and blessed him\nand, in dutiful fashion, prayed for his permanence of existence\nand prosperity and opulence, placed before his feet the phial\nfull of the water from the Lions' Spring, saying, \"Lo, I have\nbrought thee the boon thou desiredst of me. This water is most\nrare and hard to obtain; nor is there in all thy Treasure-house\naught so notable and of such value as this. If ever thou fall ill\nof any malady (Almighty Allah forfend this should be in thy\nDestiny!) then drink a draught thereof and forthwith thou shalt\nbe made whole of whatso distemper thou hast.\" When Prince Ahmad\nhad made an end of speaking, the Sultan, with all love and\naffection, grace and honour, embraced him and kissed his head;\nthen, seating him on his right said, \"O my son, I am beholden to\nthee, beyond count and measure, for that thou hast adventured thy\nlife and brought this water with great irk and risk from so\nperilous a place.\" Now the Witch had erewhile informed the King\nconcerning the Lions' Spring and of the mortal dangers which\nbeset the site; so that he knew right well how gallant was his\nson's derring-do; and presently he said, \"Say me, O my child, how\ncouldst thou venture thither and escape from the lions and\nbroughtest back the water, thyself remaining safe and sound?\"\n--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Sixty-fourth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Prince\nreplied, \"By thy favour, O my lord the Sultan, have I returned in\nsafety from that stead mainly because I did according to the\nbidding of my spouse, the Lady Peri-Banu; and I have brought the\nwater from the Lions' Spring only by carrying out her commands.\"\nThen he made known to his father all that had befallen him in\ngoing and returning; and when the Sultan noted the pre-eminent\nvaliance and prowess of his son he only feared the more, and the\nmalice and the rancour, envy and jealousy which filled his heart\nwaxed tenfold greater than before. However, dissembling his true\nsentiments he dismissed Prince Ahmad and betaking him to his\nprivate chamber at once sent word to bid the Witch appear in the\npresence; and when she came, he told her of the Prince's visit\nand all about the bringing of the water from the Lions' Spring.\nShe had already heard somewhat thereof by reason of the hubbub in\nthe city at the coming of the lions; but, as soon as she had\ngiven ear to the whole account, she marvelled with mighty marvel\nand, after whispering in the Sultan's ear her new device, said to\nhim in triumph, \"O King of kings, this time thou shalt lay a\ncharge on the Prince and such commandment methinks will trouble\nhim and it shall go hard with him to execute aught thereof.\"\n\"Thou sayest well,\" replied the Sovran, \"now indeed will I try\nthis plan thou hast projected for me.\" Wherefore, next day whenas\nPrince Ahmad came to the presence of his sire, the King said to\nhim, \"O dear my child, it delighteth me exceedingly to see thy\nvirtue and valour and the filial love wherewith thou art\nfulfilled, good gifts chiefly shown by obtaining for me the two\nrarities I asked of thee. And now one other and final requirement\nI have of thee; and, shouldst thou avail to satisfy my desire, I\nshall be wellpleased in my beloved son and render thanks to him\nfor the rest of my days.\" Prince Ahmad answered, \"What is the\nboon thou requirest? I will for my part do thy bidding as far as\nin me lieth.\" Then quoth the King in reply to the Prince, \"I\nwould fain have thee bring me a man of size and stature no more\nthan three feet high, with beard full twenty ells in length, who\nbeareth on his shoulder a quarter staff of steel, thirteen score\npounds in weight, which he wieldeth with ease and swingeth around\nhis head without wrinkle on brow, even as men wield cudgels of\nwood.\" On this wise the Sultan, led astray by the Doom of Destiny\nand heedless alike of good and evil, asked that which should\nbring surest destruction upon himself. Prince Ahmad also, with\nblind obedience out of pure affection to his parent, was ready to\nsupply him with all he required unknowing what was prepared for\nhim in the Secret Purpose. Accordingly he said, \"O my sire the\nSultan, I trow me 'twill be hard to find, all the world over, a\nman such as thou desirest, still I will work my best to do thy\nbidding.\" Thereupon the Prince retired from the presence and\nreturned, as usual, to his palace where he greeted Peri-Banu with\nlove and gladness; but his face was troubled and his heart was\nheavy at the thought of the King's last behest. Perceiving his\npre-occupation the Princess asked him, saying, \"O dear my lord,\nwhat tidings bringest thou for me to-day?\" Hereto replied he,\n\"The Sultan at each visit requireth of me some new thing and\nburtheneth me with his requests; and to-day he purposeth to try\nme and, in the hopes of putting me to shame, he asketh somewhat\nwhich 'twere vain to hope I can find in all the world.\" Thereupon\nPrince Ahmad told her all the King had said to him.--And as the\nmorn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Sixty-fifth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Peri-Banu\nhearing these words said to the Prince, \"Trouble not thyself at\nall in this matter. Thou didst venture at great risk to carry off\nfor thy father water from the Lions' Spring and thou succeededst\nin winning thy wish. Now this task is on no wise more difficult\nor dangerous than was that: nay 'tis the easier for that he thou\ndescribest is none other than Shabbar, my brothergerman. Although\nwe both have the same parents, yet it pleased Almighty Allah to\nenform us in different figures and to make him unlike his sister\nas being in mortal mould can be. Moreover he is valiant and\nadventurous, always seeking some geste and exploit whereby to\nfurther my interest, and right willingly doth he carry out whatso\nhe undertaketh. He is shaped and formed as the Sultan thy sire\nhath described, nor useth he any weapons save the Nabb\u00fat[FN#345]\nor quarter staff of steel. And see now I will send for him, but\nbe not thou dismayed at sighting him.\" Replied Prince Ahmad, \"If\nhe be in truth thine own brother what matter how he looketh? I\nshall be pleased to see him as when one welcometh a valued friend\nor a beloved kinsman. Wherefore should I fear to look upon him?\"\nHearing these words Peri-Banu despatched one of her attendants\nwho brought to her from her private treasury a chafing-dish of\ngold; then she bade a fire be lit therein, and sending for a\ncasket of noble metals studded with gems, the gift of her\nkinsmen, she took therefrom some incense and cast it upon the\nflames. Herewith issued a dense smoke spireing high in air and\nspreading all about the palace; and a few moments after,\nPeri-Banu who had ceased her conjurations cried, \"Lookye my\nbrother Shabbar cometh! canst thou distinguish his form?\" The\nPrince looked up and saw a mannikin in stature dwarfish and no\nmore than three feet high, and with a boss on breast and a hump\non back; withal he carried himself with stately mien and majestic\nair. On his right shoulder was borne his quarter staff of steel\nthirteen score pounds in weight. His beard was thick and twenty\ncubits in length but arranged so skilfully that it stood clear\noff from the ground; he wore also a twisted pair of long\nmustachios curling up to his ears, and all his face was covered\nwith long pile. His eyes were not unlike unto pig's eyes; and his\nhead, on which was placed a crown-like coiffure, was enormous of\nbulk, contrasting with the meanness of his stature. Prince Ahmad\nsat calmly beside his wife, the Fairy, and felt no fear as the\nfigure approached; and presently Shabbar walked up and glancing\nat him asked Peri-Banu saying, \"Who be this mortal who sitteth\nhard by thee?\" Hereto she replied, \"O my brother, this is my\nbeloved husband, Prince Ahmad, son of the Sultan of Hindostan. I\nsent thee not an invitation to the wedding as thou wast then\nengaged on some great expedition; now, however, by the grace of\nAlmighty Allah thou hast returned triumphant and victorious over\nthy foes, wherefore I have summoned thee upon a matter which\nnearly concerneth me.\" Hearing these words Shabbar looked\ngraciously at Prince Ahmad, saying, \"O my beloved sister, is\nthere any service I can render to him?\" and she replied, \"The\nSultan his sire desireth ardently to see thee, and I pray thee go\nforthright to him and take the Prince with thee by way of guide.\"\nSaid he, \"This instant I am ready to set forth;\" but said she,\n\"Not yet, O my brother. Thou art fatigued with journeying; so\ndefer until the morrow thy visit to the King, and this evening I\nwill make known to thee all that concerneth Prince Ahmad.\"\nPresently the time came; so Peri-Banu informed her brother\nShabbar concerning the King and his ill-counsellors; but she\ndwelt mainly upon the misdeeds of the old woman, the Witch; and\nhow she had schemed to injure Prince Ahmad and despitefully\nprevent his going to city or court, and she had gained such\ninfluence over the Sultan that he had given up his will to hers\nand ceased not doing whatso she bade him. Next day at dawn\nShabbar the Jinn and Prince Ahmad set out together upon a visit\nto the Sultan; and when they had reached the city gates, all the\nfolk, nobles and commons, were struck with consternation at the\ndwarf's hideous form; and, flying on every side in affright and\nrunning into shops and houses, barred the doors and closed the\ncasements and hid themselves therein. So panic-stricken indeed\nwas their flight that many feet lost shoes and sandals in\nrunning, while from the heads of others their loosened turbands\nfell to earth. And when they twain approached the palace through\nstreets and squares and market-places desolate as the Desert of\nSam\u00e1wah,[FN#346] all the keepers of the gates took to their heels\nat sight of Shabbar and fled, so there was none to hinder their\nentering. They walked straight on to the audience-chamber where\nthe Sultan was holding Darbar, and they found in attendance on\nhim a host of Ministers and Councillors, great and small, each\nstanding in his proper rank and station. They too on seeing\nShabbar speedily took flight in dire dismay and hid themselves;\nalso the guards had deserted their posts nor cared in any way to\nlet or stay the twain. The Sovran still sat motionless on his\nthrone, where Shabbar went up to him with lordly mien and royal\ndignity and cried, \"O King, thou hast expressed a wish to see me;\nand lo, I am here. Say now what wouldst thou have me do?\"--And as\nthe morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Sixty-sixth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the King\nmade no reply to Shabbar, but held up his hands before his eyes\nthat he might not behold that frightful figure, and turning his\nhead would fain have fled in terror. Shabbar was filled with fury\nat this rudeness on the part of the Sultan, and was wroth with\nexceeding wrath to think that he had troubled himself to come at\nthe bidding of such a craven, who now on seeing him would fain\nrun away. So the Jinn, without an instant's delay, raised his\nquarter staff of steel, and, swinging it twice in air, before\nPrince Ahmad could reach the throne or on any wise interfere,\nstruck the Sultan so fiercely upon the poll that his skull was\nsmashed and his brains were scattered over the floor. And when\nShabbar had made an end of this offender, he savagely turned upon\nthe Grand Wazir who stood on the Sultan's right and incontinently\nwould have slain him also, but the Prince craved pardon for his\nlife and said, \"Kill him not: he is my friend and hath at no time\nsaid one evil word against me. But such is not the case with the\nothers, his fellows.\" Hearing these words the infuriated Shabbar\nfell upon the Ministers and ill-counsellors on either side, to\nwit, all who had devised evil devices against Prince Ahmad, and\nslew them each and every and suffered none to escape save only\nthose who had taken flight and hidden themselves. Then, going\nfrom the hall of justice to the courtyard, the Dwarf said to the\nWazir whose life the Prince had saved, \"Harkye, there is a Witch\nwho beareth enmity against my brother, the husband of my sister.\nSee that thou produce her forthright; likewise the villain who\nfilled his father's mind with hate and malice, envy and jealousy\nagainst him, so may I quite them in full measure for their\nmisdeeds.\" The Grand Wazir produced them all, first the\nSorceress, and then the malicious minister with his rout of\nfautors and flatterers, and Shabbar felled them one after the\nother with his quarter staff of steel and killed them pitilessly,\ncrying to the Sorceress, \"This is the end of all thy machinations\nwith the King, and this is the fruit of thy deceit and treachery;\nso learn not to feign thyself sick.\" And in the blindness of his\npassion he would have slain all the inhabitants of the city, but\nPrince Ahmad prevented him and pacified him with soft and\nflattering words. Hereupon Shabbar habited his brother in the\nroyal habit and seated him on the throne and proclaimed him\nSultan of Hindostan. The people all, both high and low, rejoiced\nwith exceeding joy to hear these tidings, for Prince Ahmad was\nbeloved by every one; so they crowded to swear fealty and bring\npresents and Nazar\u00e1nahs[FN#347] and raised shouts of acclamation\ncrying out, \"Long live King Ahmad!\" When all this was done,\nShabbar sent for his sister, Peri-Banu, and made her Queen under\nthe title of Shahr-Banu;[FN#348] and in due time taking leave of\nher and of King Ahmad, the Jinni returned to his own home. And as\nthe morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n      The end of the Six Hundred and Sixty-seventh Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that after these\nthings King Ahmad summoned Prince Ali his brother and Nur\nal-Nihar and made him governor of a large city hard by the\ncapital, and dismissed him thither in high state and splendour.\nAlso he commissioned an official to wait upon Prince Husayn and\ntell him all the tidings, and sent word saying, \"I will appoint\nthee ruler over any capital or country thy soul desireth; and, if\nthou consent, I will forward thee letters of appointment.\" But\ninasmuch as the Prince was wholly content and entirely happy in\nDarwaysh-hood, he cared naught for rule or government or aught of\nworldly vanities; so he sent back the official with his duty and\ngrateful thanks, requesting that he might be left to live his\nlife in solitude and renunciation of matters mundane. Now when\nQueen Shahrazad had made an end of telling her story and yet the\nnight was not wholly spent, King Shahryar spake saying, \"This thy\nstory, admirable and most wonderful, hath given me extreme\ndelight; and I pray thee do thou tell us another tale till such\ntime as the last hours of this our night be passed.\" She replied,\n\"Be it as thou wilt, O auspicious King: I am thy slave to do as\nthou shalt bid.\" Then she began to relate the tale of\n\n\n\n\n\n                THE TWO SISTERS WHO ENVIED THEIR\n                        CADETTE[FN#349]\n\n\n\nIn days of yore and in times long gone before there lived a king\nof Persia, Khusrau Sh\u00e1h hight, renowned for justice and\nrighteousness. His father, dying at a good old age, had left him\nsole heir to all the realm and, under his rule, the tiger and the\nkid drank side by side at the same Gh\u00e1t;[FN#350] and his treasury\nwas ever full and his troops and guards were numberless. Now it\nwas his wont to don disguise and, attended by a trusty Wazir, to\nwander about the street at night-time. Whereby things seld-seen\nand haps peregrine became known to him, the which, should I tell\nthee all thereof, O auspicious King, would weary thee beyond\nmeasure. So he took seat upon the throne of his forbears and when\nthe appointed days of mourning were ended, according to the\ncustom of that country, he caused his exalted name, that is\nKhusrau Shah, be struck upon all the coins of the kingdom and\nentered into the formula of public prayer.[FN#351] And when\nstablished in his sovranty he went forth as aforetime on one\nevening accompanied by his Grand Wazir, both in merchant's habit,\nwalking the streets and squares, the markets and lanes, the\nbetter to note what might take place both of good and of bad. By\nchance they passed, as the night darkened, through a quarter\nwhere dwelt people of the poorer class; and as they walked on,\nthe Shah heard inside a house women talking with loud voices;\nthen going near, he peeped in by the door-chink, and saw three\nfair sisters who having supped together were seated on a divan\ntalking one to other. The King thereupon applied his ear to the\ncrack and listened eagerly to what they said, and heard each and\nevery declaring what was the thing she most desired.[FN#352]\nQuoth the eldest, \"I would I were married to the Shah's head\nBaker for then should I ever have bread to eat, the whitest and\nchoicest in the city, and your hearts would be fulfilled with\nenvy and jealousy and malice at my good luck.\" Quoth the second,\n\"I would rather wive with the Shah's chief Kitchener and eat of\ndainty dishes that are placed before his Highness, wherewith the\nroyal bread which is common throughout the Palace cannot compare\nfor gust and flavour.\" And quoth the third and youngest of the\nthree, and by far the most beautiful and lively of them all, a\nmaiden of charming nature, full of wit and humour; sharp-witted,\nwary and wise, when her turn came to tell her wish, \"O sisters,\nmy ambition is not as ordinary as yours. I care not for fine\nbread nor glutton-like do I long for dainty dishes. I look to\nsomewhat nobler and higher: indeed I would desire nothing less\nthan to be married by the King and become the mother of a\nbeautiful Prince, a model of form and in mind as masterful as\nvalorous. His hair should be golden on one side and silvern on\nthe other: when weeping he should drop pearls in place of tears,\nand when laughing his rosy lips should be fresh as the blossom\nnew-blown.\" The Shah was amazed with exceeding amazement to hear\nthe wishes of the three sisters, but chiefly of the youngest and\ndetermined in himself that he would gratify them all. Wherefore\nquoth he to the Grand Wazir, \"Mark well this house And on the\nmorrow bring before me these maidens whom we Heard discoursing;\"\nand quoth the Wazir, \"O Asylum of the Universe, I hear but to\nobey.\" Thereupon the twain walked back to the palace and laid\nthem down to rest. When morning morrowed, the Minister went for\nthe sisters and brought them to the King, who, after greeting\nthem and heartening their hearts, said to them in kindly tone, \"O\nye maidens of weal, last night what was it that in merry word and\njest ye spake one to other? Take heed ye tell the Shah every whit\nin full detail, for all must become known to us; something have\nwe heard, but now the King would have ye recount your discourse\nto his royal ears.\"--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held\nher peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Sixty-eighth Night\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that at these\nwords of the Shah the sisters, confused and filled with shame,\ndurst not reply but stood before him silent with heads bent low;\nand despite all questioning and encouragement they could not\npluck up courage. However, the youngest was of passing comeliness\nin form and feature and forthwith the Shah became desperately\nenamoured of her; and of his live began reassuring them and\nsaying, \"O ye Princesses of fair ones, be not afraid nor troubled\nin thought; nor let bashfulness or shyness prevent you telling\nthe Shah what three wishes you wished, for fain would he fulfil\nthem all.\" Thereat they threw themselves at his feet and, craving\nhis pardon for their boldness and freedom of speech, told him the\nwhole talk, each one repeating the wish she had wished; and on\nthat very day Khusrau Shah married the eldest sister to his chief\nBaker, and the second sister to his head Cook, and bade make all\nthings ready for his own wedding with the youngest sister. So\nwhen the preparations for the royal nuptials had been made after\ncostliest fashion, the King's marriage was celebrated with royal\npomp and pageantry, and the bride received the titles of Light of\nthe Harem and B\u00e1n\u00fa of Ir\u00e1n-land. The other two maidens were\nlikewise married, one to the King's Baker the other to his Cook,\nafter a manner according to their several degrees in life and\nwith little show of grandeur and circumstance. Now it had been\nonly right and reasonable that these twain having won each her\nown wish, should have passed their time in solace and happiness,\nbut the decree of Destiny doomed otherwise; and, as soon as they\nsaw the grand estate whereto their youngest sister had risen, and\nthe magnificence of her marriage-festival, their hearts were\nfired with envy and jealousy and sore despite and they resolved\nupon giving the rein to their hatred and malignancy and to work\nher some foul mischief. On this wise they remained for many\nmonths consumed with rancour, day and night; and they burned with\ngrief and anger whenever they sighted aught of her superior style\nand state. One morning as the two met at the Hamm\u00e1m and found\nprivacy and opportunity, quoth the eldest sister to the second,\n\"A grievous thing it is indeed that she, our youngest sister, no\nlovelier than ourselves, should thus be raised to the dignity and\nmajesty of Queendom and indeed the thought is overhard to bear.\"\nQuoth the other, \"O sister mine, I also am perplexed and\ndispleased at this thing, and I know not what of merit the Shah\ncould have seen in her that he was tempted to choose her for his\nconsort. She ill befitteth that high estate with that face like a\nmonkey's favour; and, save her youth, I know nothing that could\ncommend her to his Highness that he should so exalt her above her\nfellows. To my mind thou and not she art fit to share the royal\nbed; and I nurse a grudge against the King for that he hath made\nthis jade his Queen.\" And the eldest sister rejoined, \"I likewise\nmarvel beyond all measure; and I swear that thy youth and beauty,\nthy well-shaped figure and lovely favour and goodliness of gifts\npast challenge or compare, might well have sufficed to win the\nKing and have tempted him to wed and bed with thee and make thee\nhis crowned Queen and Sovran Lady in lieu of taking to his arms\nthis paltry strumpet. Indeed he hath shown no sense of what is\nright and just in leaving thee disappointed; and on this account\nonly the matter troubleth me with exceeding trouble.\"--And as the\nmorn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Sixty-ninth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the two\nsisters took counsel each with other how they might abase their\nyoungest sister in the Shah's sight and cause her downfall and\nutter ruin. Day and night they conned over the matter in their\nminds and spoke at great length about it when they ever met\ntogether, and pondered endless plans to injure the Queen their\nsister, and if possible bring about her death; but they could fix\nupon none. And, whilst they bore this despite and hatred towards\nher and diligently and deliberately sought the means of\ngratifying their bitter envy, hatred and malice, she on the other\nhand regarded them with the same favour and affection as she had\ndone before marriage and thought only how to advantage their low\nestate. Now when some months of her wedded life had passed, the\nfair Queen was found to be with child whereof the glad tidings\nfilled the Shah with joy; and straightway he commanded all the\npeople of the capital and throughout the while Empire keep\nholiday with feasts and dancing and every manner jollity as\nbecame so rare and important an occasion. But as soon as the news\ncame to the ears of the two Envious Sisters they were constrained\nperforce to offer their congratulations to the Queen; and, after\na long visit, as the twain were about to crave dismissal they\nsaid, \"Thanks be to Almighty Allah, O our sister, who hath shown\nus this happy day. One boon have we to ask of thee: to wit, that\nwhen the time shall come for thee to be delivered of a child, we\nmay assist as midwives at thy confinement, and be with thee and\nnurse thee for the space of forty days.\" The Queen in her\ngladness made reply, \"O sisters mine, I fain would have it so;\nfor at a time of such need I know f none on whom to rely with\nsuch dependence as upon you. During my coming trial your presence\nwith me will be most welcome and opportune; but I can do only\nwhat thing the Shah biddeth anor can I do aught save by his\nleave. My advice is thus:--Make known this matter to your mates\nwho have always access to the royal presence, and let them\npersonally apply for your attendance as midwives; I doubt not but\nthat the Shah will give you leave to assist me and remain by my\nside, considering the fond relationship between us three.\" Then\nthe two sisters returned home full of evil thoughts and malice,\nand told their wishes to their husbands who, in turn, bespake\nKhusrau Shah, and proffered their petition with all humility,\nlittle knowing what was hidden from them in the Secret Purpose.\nThe King replied, \"When I shall have thought the matter over in\nmy mind, I will give you suitable orders.\" So saying he privately\nvisited the Queen and to her said, \"O my lady, an it please thee,\nmethinks 'twould be well to summon thy sisters and secure their\naidance, when thou shalt be labouring of child, in lieu of any\nstranger: and if thou be of the same mind as myself let me at\nonce learn and take steps to obtain their consent and concert ere\nthy time arriveth. They will wait on thee with more loving care\nthan any hired nurse and thou wilt find thyself the safer in\ntheir hands.\" Replied the Queen, \"O my lord the Shah, I also\nventure to think that 'twould be well to have my sisters by my\nside and not mere aliens at such an hour.\" Accordingly he sent\nsword to them and from that day they dwelt within the palace to\nmake all ready for the expected confinement; and on this wise\nthey found means to carry out their despiteful plot which during\nso many days they had devised to scanty purpose. When her full\ntale of months had been told, the Banu was brought to bed of a\nman-child marvellous in beauty, whereat the fire of envy and\nhatred was kindled with redoubled fury in the sisters' breasts.\nSo they again took counsel not suffered ruth nor natural\naffection to move their cruel hearts; and presently, with great\ncare and secrecy, they wrapped the new-born in a bit of blanket\nand putting him into a basket cast him into a canal which flowed\nhard by the Queen's apartment.[FN#353] They then placed a dead\npuppy in the place of the prince and showed it to the other\nmidwives and nurses, averring that the Queen had given birth to\nsuch abortion. When these untoward tidings reached the King's ear\nhe was sore discomforted and waxed wroth with exceeding wrath.--\nAnd as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n        The end of the Six Hundred and Seventieth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the King,\nenflamed with sudden fierceness, drew his sword and would have\nslain his Queen had not the Grand Wazir, who happened to be in\nhis presence at the time, restrained his rage and diverted him\nfrom his unjust design and barbarous purpose. Quoth he, \"O Shadow\nof Allah upon earth, this mishap is ordained of the Almighty Lord\nwhose will no man hath power to gainsay. The Queen is guiltless\nof offence against thee, for what is born of her is born without\nher choice, and she indeed hath no hand therein.\" With this and\nother sage counsels he dissuaded his lord from carrying out his\nfell purpose and saved the guiltless Queen from a sudden and\ncruel death. Meanwhile the basket wherein lay the newly-born\nPrince was carried by the current into a rivulet which flowed\nthrough the royal gardens; and, as the Intendant of the pleasure\ngrounds and pleasaunces chanced to walk along the bank, by the\ndecree of Destiny he caught sight of the basket floating by, and\nhe called a gardener, bidding him lay hold of it and bring it to\nhim that he might see what was therein. The man ran along the\nrivulet side; and, with a long stick drawing the basket to land,\nshowed it to the Intendant who opened it and beheld within a new-\nborn babe, a boy of wondrous beauty wrapped in a bit of blanket;\nat which sight he was astounded beyond measure of surprise. Now\nit chanced that the Intendant, who was one of the Emirs and who\nstood high in favour with the Sovran, had no children: withal he\nnever ceased offering prayers and vows to Almighty Allah that he\nmight have a son to keep alive his memory and continue his name.\nDelighted at the sight he took home the basket with the babe and\ngiving it to his wife said, \"See how Allah hath sent to us this\nman-child which I just now found floating upon the waters; and do\nthou apply thee forthright and fetch a wet-nurse to give him milk\nand nourish him; and bring him up with care and tenderness as\nthough he were thine own.\" So the Intendant's wife took charge of\nthe child with great gladness and reared him with her whole\nheart, diligently as though born of her own womb; nor did the\nIntendant say aught to any, or seek to find out whose might be\nthe child lest haply some one claim and take it from him. He was\ncertified in his mind that the boy came from the Queen's quarter\nof the palace, but deemed inexpedient to make too strict enquiry\nconcerning the matter; and he and his spouse kept the secret with\nall secrecy. A year after this the Queen gave birth to a second\nson, when her sisters, the Satanesses full of spite, did with\nthis babe, even as they had done by the first: they wrapped it in\na cloth and set it in a basket which they threw into the stream,\nthen gave out that the Queen had brought forth a kitten. But once\nmore, by the mercy of Allah Almighty, this boy came to the hands\nof that same Intendant of the gardens who carried him to his wife\nand placed him under her charge with strict injunctions to take\ncare of the second foundling sedulously as she had done with the\nfirst. The Shah, enraged to hear the evil tidings, again rose up\nto slay the Queen; but as before the Grand Wazir prevented him\nand calmed his wrath with words of wholesome rede and a second\ntime saved the unhappy mother's life. And after another year had\ngone by the Banu was brought to bed and this time bore a daughter\nby whom the sisters did as they had done by her brothers: they\nset the innocent inside a basket and threw her into the stream;\nand the Intendant found her also and took her to his wife and\nbade her rear the infant together with the other two castaways.\nHereupon the Envious Sisters, wild with malice, reported that the\nQueen had given birth to a musk-ratling;[FN#354] whereat King\nKhusrau could no longer stay his wrath and indignation. So he\ncried in furious rage to the Grand Wazir, \"What, shall the Shah\nsuffer this woman, who beareth naught but vermin and abortions,\nto share the joys of his bed? Nay more, the King can no longer\nallow her to live, else she will fill the palace with monstrous\nbirths: in very sooth, she is herself a monster, and it behoveth\nus to rid this place of such unclean creature and accursed.\" So\nsaying the Shah commanded them do her to death; but the ministers\nand high officers of estate who stood before the presence fell at\nthe royal feet and besought pardon and mercy for the Queen. The\nGrand Wazir also said with folded hands, \"O Sh\u00e1hihsh\u00e1h[FN#355]--O\nKing of the kings--thy slave would fain represent that 'tis not\nin accordance with the course of justice or the laws of the land\nto take the life of a woman for no fault of her own. She cannot\ninterfere with Destiny, nor can she prevent unnatural births such\nas have thrice betided her; and such mishaps have oftentimes\nbefallen other women, whose cases call for compassion and not\npunishment. An the King be displeased with her then let him cease\nto live with her, and the loss of his gracious favour will be a\npenalty dire enough; and, if the Shah cannot suffer the sight of\nher, then let her be confined in some room apart, and let her\nexpiate her offence by alms deed and charity until 'Izr\u00e1\u00edl, the\nAngel of Death, separate her soul from her flesh.\" Hearing these\nwords of counsel from his aged Councillor, Khusrau Shah\nrecognised that it had been wrong to slay the Queen, for that she\ncould on no wise do away with aught that was determined by Fate\nand Destiny; and presently he said to the Grand Wazir, \"Her life\nis spared at thine intercession, O wise man and ware; yet will\nthe King doom her to a weird which, haply, is hardly less hard to\nbear than death. And now do thou forthright make ready, by the\nside of the Cathedral-mosque, a wooden cage with iron bars and\nlock the Queen therein as one would confine a ferocious wild\nbeast.[FN#356] Then every Mussulman who wendeth his way to public\nprayers Shall spit in her face ere he set foot within the fane,\nand if any fail to carry out this command he shall be punished in\nlike manner. So place guards and inspectors to enforce obedience\nand let me hear if there be aught of gainsaying.\" The Wazir durst\nnot make reply but carried out the Shah's commandments; and this\npunishment inflicted upon the blameless Queen had far better\nbefitted her Envious Sisters.--And as the morn began to dawn\nShahrazad held her peace till\n\n      The End of the Six Hundred and Seventy-first Night.\n\nThen said she--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the cage was\nmade ready with all speed; and, when the forty days after\npurification of child-bed[FN#357] had come to an end, the Banu\nwas locked therein; and, according to the King's commandment, all\nwho came to prayer in the Great Mosque would first spit in her\nface. The hapless woman, well knowing that she as not worthy of\nthis ignominy, bore her sufferings with all patience and\nfortitude; nor were they few who deemed her blameless and\nundeserving to endure these torments and tortures inflicted upon\nher by the Shah; and they pitied her and offered prayers and made\nvows for her release. Meanwhile the Intendant of the gardens and\nhis wife brought up the two Princes and the Princess with all\nlove and tenderness; and, as the children grew in years, their\nlove for these adopted ones increased in like proportion. They\ngave the eldest Prince the name Bahman,[FN#358], and to his\nbrother Parwez,[FN#359], and as the maiden was of rare of beauty\nand passing of loveliness and graciousness, they called her\nPer\u00edz\u00e1dah.[FN#360] When the Princes became of years to receive\ninstruction, the Intendant of the gardens appointed tutors and\nmasters to teach them reading and writing and all the arts and\nsciences: the Princess also, showing like eagerness to acquire\nknowledge, was taught letters by the same instructors, and soon\ncould read and write with as perfect fluency and fluency as could\nher brothers. Then they were placed under the most learned of the\nPhilosophers and the Olema, who taught them the interpretation of\nthe Koran and the sayings of the Apostle; the science of geometry\nas well as poetry and history, and even the abstruse sciences and\nthe mystic doctrines of the Enlightened; and their teachers were\nastonished to find how soon and how far all three made progress\nin their studies and bid fair to outstrip even the sages however\nlearned. Moreover, they all three were reared to horsemanship and\nskill in the chase, to shooting with shafts and lunging with\nlance and sway with sabre and jerking the Jer\u00edd, with other manly\nand warlike sports. Besides all this the Princess Perizadah was\ntaught to sing and play on various instruments of mirth and\nmerriment, wherein she became the peerless pearl of her age and\ntime. The Intendant was exceeding glad of heart to find his\nadopted children prove themselves such proficients in every\nbranch of knowledge; and presently, forasmuch as his lodging was\nsmall and unfit for the growing family, he bought at a little\ndistance from the city a piece of land sufficiently large to\ncontain fields and meadows and copses. Here he fell to building a\nmansion of great magnificence; and busied himself day and night\nwith supervising the architects and masons and other artificers.\nHe adorned the walls inside and out with sculptural work of the\nfinest and paintings of the choicest, and he fitted every\napartment with richest furniture. In the front of his mansion he\nbade lay out a garden and stocked it with scented flowers and\nfragrant shrubs and fruit trees whose produce was as that of\nParadise. There was moreover a large park girt on all sides by a\nhigh wall wherein he reared game, both fur and feather, as sport\nfor the two Princes and their sister. And when the mansion was\nfinished and fit for habitation, the Intendant, who had\nfaithfully served the Shah for many generations of men, craved\nleave of his lord that he might bid adieu to the city and take up\nhis abode in his new country seat; and the King, who had always\nlooked upon him with the eye of favour, granted to him the\nrequired boon right heartily; furthermore, to prove his high\nopinion of his old servant and his services, he inquired of him\nif he had aught to request that it might granted to him. Replied\nthe other, \"O my liege lord, thy slave desireth naught save that\nhe may spend the remnant of his days under the shadow of the\nShah's protection, with body and soul devoted to his service,\neven as I served the side before the son,\" The Shah dismissed him\nwith words of thanks and comfort, when he left the city and\ntaking with him the two Princes and their sister, he carried them\nto his newly-built mansion. Some years before this time his wife\nhad departed to the mercy of Allah, and he had passed only five\nor six months in his second home when he too suddenly felt sick\nand was admitted into the number of those who have found ruth.\nWithal he had neglected every occasion of telling his three\nfoundlings the strange tale of their birth and how he had carried\nthem to his home as castaways and had reared them as rearlings\nand had cherished them as his own children. But he had time to\ncharge them, ere he died, that they three should never cease to\nlive together in love and honour and affection and respect one\ntowards other. The loss of their protector caused them to grieve\nwith bitter grief for they all thought he was their real father;\nso they bewailed them and buried him as befitted; after which the\ntwo brothers and their sister dwelt together in peace and plenty.\nBut one day of the days the Princes, who were full of daring and\nof the highest mettle, rode forth a-hunting and Princess\nPerizadah was left alone at home when an ancient woman--And as\nthe morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n      The end of the Six Hundred and Seventy-second Night.\n\nThen said she--I have heard, O auspicious King, that perchance an\nancient woman of the Moslems, a recluse and a devotee, came to\nthe door and begged leave to enter within and repeat her prayers,\nas it was then the canonical hour and she had but time to make\nthe Wuz\u00fa-ablution. Perizadah bade being her and saluted her with\nthe salam and kindly welcomed her; then, when the holy woman had\nmade an end of her orisons, the handmaids of the Princess, at her\ncommand, conducted her all through the house and grounds, and\ndisplayed to her the rooms with their furniture and fittings, and\nlastly the garden and orchard and game-park. She was well pleased\nwith all she saw and said within herself, \"The man who built this\nmansion and laid out these parterres and vergiers was verily an\naccomplished artist and a wight of marvellous skill.\" At last the\nslaves led her back to the Princess who, awaiting her return, was\nsitting in the belvedere; and quoth she to the devotee, \"Come, O\ngood my mother, do thou sit beside me and make me happy by the\ncompany of a pious recluse whom I am fortunate enough to have\nentertained unawares, and suffer I listen to thy words of grace\nand thereby gain no small advantage in this world and the next.\nThou hast chosen the right path and straight whereon to walk, and\nthat which all men strive for and pine for.\" The holy woman would\nfain have seated herself at the feet of the Princess, but she\ncourteously arose and took her by the hand and constrained her to\nsit beside her. Quoth she, \"O my lady, mine eyes never yet beheld\none so well-mannered as thou art: indeed, I am unworthy to sit\nwith thee, natheless, as thou biddest, I will e'en do thy\nbidding.\" As they sat conversing each with other the slave-girls\nset before them a table whereon were placed some platters of\nbread and cakes with saucers full of fruits both fresh and dried,\nand various kinds of cates and sweetmeats. The Princess took one\nof the cakes and giving it to the good woman said, \"O my mother,\nrefresh thyself herewith and eat of the fruits such as thou\nlikest. 'Tis now long since thou didst leave thy home and I trow\nthou hast not tasted aught of food upon the road.\" Replied the\nholy woman, \"O lady of gentle birth, I am not wont to taste of\ndainty dishes such as these, but I can ill refuse thy provision,\nsince Allah the Almighty deigneth send me food and support by so\nliberal and generous a hand as thine.\" And when they twain had\neaten somewhat and cheered their hearts, the Princess asked the\ndevotee concerning the manner of her worship and of her austere\nlife; whereto she made due answer and explained according to her\nknowledge. The Princess then exclaimed, \"Tell me, I pray thee,\nwhat thou thinkest of this mansion and the fashion of its\nbuilding and the furniture and the appurtenances; and say me is\nall perfect and appropriate, or is aught still lacking in mansion\nor garden?\" And she replied, \"Since thou deignest ask my opinion,\nI confess to thee that both the buildings and the parterres are\nfinished and furnished to perfection; and the belongings are in\nthe best of taste and in the highest of ordinance. Still to my\nthinking there be three things here wanting, which if thou hadst\nthe place would be most complete.\" The Princess Perizadah adjured\nher saying, \"O my aunt, I beseech thee tell me what three\narticles yet are lacking, that I may lose no pains nor toil to\nobtain them;\" and as the maiden pressed her with much intreaty,\nthe devotee was constrained to tell her. Quoth she, \"O gentle\nlady, the first thing is the Speaking-Bird, called Bulbul-i-\nhaz\u00e1r-d\u00e1st\u00e1n;[FN#361] he is very rare and hard to find but,\nwhenever he poureth out his melodious notes, thousands of birds\nfly to him from every side and join him in his harmony. The next\nthing is the Singing-Tree, whose smooth and glossy leaves when\nshaken by the wind and rubbed against one another send forth\ntuneful tones which strike the ear like the notes of sweet-voices\nminstrels ravishing the heart of all who listen. The third thing\nis the Golden-Water of transparent purity, whereon should but one\ndrop be dripped into a basin and this be placed inside the garden\nit presently will fill the vessel brimful and will spout upwards\nin gerbes playing like a fountain that jets: moreover it never\nceaseth playing, and all the water as it shooteth up falleth back\nagain inside the basin, not one gout thereof being lost.\" Replied\nthe Princess, \"I doubt not but thou knowest for a certainty the\nvery spot where these wondrous things are to be found; and I pray\nthee tell me now the place and means whereby I may take action to\nobtain them.\"--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her\npeace till\n\n      The end of the Six Hundred and Seventy-third Night.\n\nThen said she--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the holy\nwoman thus answered the Princess, \"These three rarities are not\nto be found, save on the boundary-line that lieth between the\nland of Hind and the confining countries, a score of marches\nalong the road that leadeth Eastwards from this mansion. Let him\nwho goeth forth in quest of them ask the first man he meeteth on\nthe twentieth stage concerning the spot where he may find the\nSpeaking-Bird, the Singing-Tree and the Golden-Water; and he will\ndirect the seeker where to come upon all three.\" When she had\nmade an end of speaking the Devotee, with many blessings and\nprayers and vows for her well-being, farewelled the lady\nPerizadah and fared forth homewards. The Princess, however,\nceased not to ponder her words and ever to dwell in memory upon\nthe relation of the holy woman who, never thinking that her\nhostess had asked for information save by way of curiosity, nor\nreally purposed in mind to set forth with intent of finding the\nrarities, ahd heedlessly told all she knew and had given a clue\nto the discovery. But Perizadah kept these matters deeply graven\non the tablets of her heart with firm resolution to follow the\ndirections and, by all means in her power, to gain possession of\nthese three wonders. Withal, the more she reflected the harder\nappeared the enterprise, and her fear of failing only added to\nher unease. Now whilst she sat perplexed with anxious thought and\nanon terrified with sore affright, her brothers rode back from\nthe hunting-ground; and they marvelled much to see her sad of\nsemblance and low-spirited, wondering the while what it was that\ntroubles her. Presently quoth Prince Bahman, \"O sister mine, why\nart thou so heavy of heart this day? Almighty Allah forbid thou\nill in health or that aught have betided thee to cause thy\ndispleasure or to make thee melancholy. Tell us I beseech thee\nwhat it is, that we may be sharers in thy sorrow and be alert to\naid thee.\" The Princess answered not a word, but after long\nsilence raised her head and looked up at her brothers; then\ncasting down her eyes she said in curt phrase that naught was\namiss with her. Quoth Prince Bahman, \"Full well I wot that there\nis a somewhat on my mind which thou hesitateth to tell us; and\nnow hear me swear a strong oath that I will never leave thy side\ntill thou shalt have told us what cause it is that troubleth\nthee. Haply thou art aweary of our affection and thou wouldest\nundo the fraternal tie which hath united us from our infancy.\"\nWhen she saw her brothers so distressed and distraught, she was\ncompelled to speak and said, \"Albeit, O my dearlings, to tell you\nwherefore I am sad and sorrowful may cause you grief, still there\nis no help but I explain the matter to you twain. This mansion,\nwhich our dear father (who hath found ruth) builded for us, is\nperfect in every attribute nor lacketh it any condition of\ncomfort or completion. Howbeit I have found out by chance this\nday that there are yet three things which, were they set within\nthese walls, of the house and grounds, would make our place\nbeyond compare, and in the wide world there would be naught with\nit to pair. These three things are the Speaking-Bird an the\nSinging-Tree and the Golden- Water; and ever since I heard of\nthem my heart is filled with extreme desire to place them within\nour domain and excessive longing to obtain them by any means\nwithin my power. It now behoveth you to help me with your best\nendeavour and to consider what person will aid me in getting\npossession of these rarities.\" Replied Prince Bahman, \"My life\nand that of my brother are at thy service to carry out thy\npurpose with heart and soul; and, couldst thou give me but a clue\nto the place where these strange things are found, I would sally\nforth in quest of them at day-break as soon as the morning shall\nmorrow.\" When Prince Parwez understood that his brother was about\nto make this journey, he spake saying, \"O my brother, thou art\neldest of us, so do thou stay at home while I go forth to seek\nfor these three things and bring them to our sister. And indeed\nit were more fitting for me to undertake a task which may occupy\nme for years.\" Replied Prince Bahman, \"I have full confidence in\nthy strength and prowess, and whatso I am able to perform thou\ncanst do as well as I can. Still it is my firm resolve to fare\nforth upon this adventure alone and unaided, and thou must stay\nand take care of our sister and our house.\" So next day Prince\nBahman learned from the Princess the road whereon he was to\ntravel and the marks and signs whereby to find the place.\nPresently, he donned armour and arms and bidding the twain adieu,\nhe took horse and was about to ride forth with the stoutest of\nhearts, whereat Princess Perizadah's eyes brimmed with tears and\nin faltering accents she addressed him saying, \"O dear my\nbrother, this bitter separation is heart-breaking; and sore\nsorrowful am I to see thee part from us. This disunion and thine\nabsence in a distant land cause me grief and woe far exceeding\nthat wherewith I mourned and pined for the rarities wherefor thou\nquittest us. If only we might have some news of thee from day to\nday then would I fell somewhat comforted and consoled; but not\n'tis clear otherwise and regret is of none avail.\"--And as the\nmorn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n      The end of the Six Hundred and Seventy-fourth Night.\n\nThen she said--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Prince\nBahman made answer in these words: \"O sister mine, I am fully\ndetermined in mind to attempt this derring-do; be thou not\nhowever anxious or alarmed, for Inshallah--God willing--I shall\nreturn successful and triumphant. After my departure shouldst\nthou at any time feel in fear for my safety, then by this token\nwhich I leave thee thou shalt know of my fate and lot, good or\nevil.\" Then, drawing from his waist-shawl a little hunting-knife\nlike a whittle, he gave it to Princess Perizadah, saying, \"Take\nnow this blade and keep it ever by thee; and shouldst thou at any\nday or hour be solicitous concerning my condition, draw it from\nits sheath; and if the steel be clean and bright as 'tis now then\nknow that I am alive and safe and sound; but an thou find stains\nof blood thereon then shalt thou know that I am slain, and naught\nremaineth for thee to do save to pray for me as for one dead.\"\nWith these words of solace the Prince departed on his journey,\nand travelled straight along the road to India, turning nor to\nright hand nor to left but ever keeping the same object in view.\nThus a score of days was spent in journeying from the land of\nIran, and upon the twentieth he reached the end of his travel.\nHere he suddenly sighted an ancient man of frightful aspect\nsitting beneath a tree hard by his thatched hut wherein he was\nwont to shelter himself from the rains of spring and the heats of\nsummer and the autumnal miasmas and the wintry frosts. So shotten\nin years was this Shaykh that hair and beard, mustachios and\nwhiskers were white as snow, and the growth of his upper lip was\nso long and so thick that it covered and concealed his mouth,\nwhile his beard swept the ground and the nails of his hands and\nfeet had grown to resemble the claws of a wild beast. Upon his\nhead he wore a broad-brimmed hat of woven palm-leaves like that\nof a Mal\u00e1b\u00e1r fisherman, and all his remaining habit was a strip\nof matting girded around his waist. Now this Shaykh was a\nDarwaysh who for many years had fled the world and all worldly\npleasures; who lived a holy life of poverty and chastity and\nother-worldliness whereby his semblance had become such as I, O\nauspicious King, have described to thee. From early dawn that day\nPrince Bahman had been watchful and vigilant, ever looking on all\nsides to descry some one who could supply him with information\ntouching the whereabouts of the rarities he sought; and this was\nthe first human being he had sighted on that stage, the twentieth\nand last of his journey. So he rode up to him, being assured that\nthe Shaykh must be the wight of whom the holy woman had spoken.\nThen Prince Bahman dismounting and making low obeisance to the\nDarwaysh, said, \"I my father, Allah Almighty prolong thy years\nand grant thee all thy wishes!\" Whereto the Fakir made answer but\nin accents so indistinct that the Prince could not distinguish a\nsingle word he said; and presently Bahman understood that his\nmoustache was on such wise closed and concealed his mouth that\nhis utterance became indistinct and he only muttered when he\nwould have spoken. He therefore haltered his horse to a tree and\npulling out a pair of scissors said, \"O holy man, thy lips are\nwholly hidden by this overlong hair; suffer me, I pray thee, clip\nthe bristling growth which overspreadeth thy face and which is so\nlong and thick that thou art fearsome to behold; nay, more like\nto a bear than to a human being.\" The Darwaysh with a nod\nconsented, and when the Prince had clipped it and trimmed the\ngrowth, his face once more looked young and fresh as that of a\nman in the prime of youth. Presently quoth Bahman to him, \"Would\nHeaven that I had a mirror wherein to show thee thy face, so\nwouldst thou see how youthful thou seemest, and how thy favour\nhath become far more like that of folk than whilom it was.\" These\nflattering words pleased the Darwaysh who smiling said, \"I thank\nthee much for this thy goodly service and kindly offices; and, if\nin return, I can do aught of favour for thee, I pray thee let me\nknow, and I will attempt to satisfy thee in all things with my\nvery heart and soul.\" Then said the Prince, \"O holy man, I have\ncome hither from far distant lands along a toilsome road in quest\nof three things; to wit, a certain Speaking-Bird, a Singing-Tree\nand a Golden-Water; and this know I for certain that they are all\nto be found hard by this site.\"--And as the morn began to dawn\nShahrazad held her peace till\n\n      The end of the Six Hundred and Seventy-Fifth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Prince,\nturning to the Darwaysh, continued, \"O Devotee, albeit well I wot\nthat the three things I seek are in this land and nearhand, yet I\nknow not the exact spot wherein to find them. An thou have true\ninformation concerning the place and will inform me thereof, I on\nmy part will never forget thy kindness, and I shall have the\nsatisfaction of feeling that this long and toilsome wayfare hath\nnot been wholly vain.\" Hearing these words of the Prince, the\nDarwaysh changed countenance and his face waxed troubled and his\ncolour wan; then he bent his glance downwards and sat in deepest\nsilence. Whereat the other said, \"O holy father, dost thou not\nunderstand the words wherewith I have bespoken thee? An thou art\nignorant of the matter prithee let me know straightway that I may\nagain fare onwards until such time as I find a man who can inform\nme thereof.\" After a long pause the Darwaysh made reply, \"O\nstranger, 'tis true I ken full well the site whereof thou are in\nsearch; but I hold thee dear in that thou hast been of service to\nme; and I am loath for thine own sake to tell thee where to find\nthat stead.\" And the Prince rejoined, \"Say me, O Fakir, why dost\nthou withhold this knowledge from me, and wherefore art thou not\nlief to let me learn it?\" Replied the other, \"'Tis a hard road to\ntravel and full of perils and dangers. Besides thyself many have\ncome hither and have asked the path of me, and I refused to tell\nthem, but they heeded not my warning and pressed me sore and\ncompelled me to disclose the secret which I would have buried in\nmy breast. Know, O my son, that all those braves have perished in\ntheir pride and not one of them hath returned to me safe and\nsound. Now, an thy life be dear to thee, follow my counsel and\nfare no further, but rather turn thee back without stay or delay\nand make for house and home and family.\" Hereto Prince Bahman,\nstern in resolution, made reply, \"Thou hast after kindly guise\nand friendly fashion advised me with the best of advice; and I,\nhaving heard all thou hast to day, do thank thee gratefully. But\nI reck not one jot or tittle of what dangers affront me, nor\nshall thy threats however fatal deter me from my purpose:\nmoreover, if thieves or foemen haply fall upon me, I am armed at\npoint and can and will protect myself, for I am certified that\nnone can outvie me in strength and stowre.\" To this the Fakir\nmade reply, \"The beings who will cut thy path and bar thy\nprogress to that place are unseen of man, nor will they appear to\nthee on any wise: how then canst thou defend thyself against\nthem?\" And he replied, \"So be it, still I fear not and I pray\nthee only show me the road thither.\" When the Darwaysh was\nassured that the Prince had fully determined in mind to attempt\nthe exploit and would by no means turn or be turned back from\ncarrying out his purpose, he thrust his hand into a bag which lay\nhard by and took therefrom a ball, and said, \"Alas, O my son,\nthou wilt not accept my counsel and I needs must let thee follow\nthy wilful way. Take this ball and, mounting thy horse, throw it\nin front of thee, and as long as it shall roll onwards do thou\nride after it, but when it shall stop at the hill-foot dismount\nfrom thy horse and throw the reins upon his neck and leave him\nalone, for he will stay there without moving until such time as\nthou return. Then manfully breast the ascent, and on either side\nof the path, right and left, thou shalt see a scatter of huge\nblack boulders. Here the sound of many voices in confused clamour\nand frightful will suddenly strike thine ears, to raise thy wrath\nand to fill thee with fear and hinder thy higher course uphill.\nHave a heed that thou be not dismayed, also beware, and again say\nI beware, lest thou turn they head at any time, and cast a look\nbackwards. An thy courage fail thee, or thou allow thyself one\nglance behind thee, thou shalt be transformed that very moment\ninto a black rock; for know thou, O Prince, that all those stones\nwhich thou shalt see strewn upon thy way were men whilome and\nbraves like thyself, who went forth with intent to gain the three\nthings thou seekest, but frightened at those sounds lost human\nshape and became black boulders. However, shouldst thou reach the\nhill-top sae and sound, thou shalt find on the very summit a cage\nand perched therein the Speaking-Bird ready to answer all thy\nqueries. So ask of him where thou mayest find the Singing-Tree\nand the Golden-Water, and he will tell thee all thou requirest.\nWhen thou shalt safely have seized all three thou wilt be free\nfrom further danger; yet, inasmuch as thou hast not yet set out\nupon this journey give ear to my counsel. I beg of thee to desist\nfrom this thy purpose and return home in peace whilst thou hast\nyet the power.\"--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her\npeace till\n\n      The end of the Six Hundred and Seventy-sixth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Prince\nmade answer to the Darwaysh, \"Until, O thou holy man, such time\nas I win to my purpose I will not go back; no, never; therefore\nadieu.\" So he mounted his horse and threw the ball in front of\nhim; and it rolled forward at racing-speed and he, with gaze\nintent thereupon, rode after it and did not suffer it to gain\nupon him. When it had reached the hill whereof the Darwaysh\nspake, it ceased to make further way, whereupon the Prince\ndismounted and throwing the reins on his horse's neck left him\nand fared on afoot to the slope. As far as he could see, the line\nof his path from the hill-foot to the head was strown with a\nscatter of huge black boulders; withal his heart felt naught of\nfear. He had not taken more than some four or five paces before a\nhideous din and a terrible hubbub of many voices arose, even as\nthe Darwaysh had forewarned him. Prince Bahman, however, walked\non valiantly with front erect and fearless tread, but he saw no\nliving thing and heard only the Voices[FN#362] sounding all\naround him. Some said, \"Who is yon fool man and whence hath he\ncome?\" Stop him, let him not pass!\" Others shouted out, \"Fall on\nhim, seize this zany and slay him!\" Then the report waxed louder\nand louder still, likest to the roar of thunder, and many Voices\nyelled out, \"Thief! Assassin! Murderer!\" Another muttered in\ntaunting undertones, \"Let him be, fine fellow that he is! Suffer\nhim to pass on, for he and he only shall get the cage and the\nSpeaking-Bird.\" The Prince feared naught but advanced hot foot\nwith his wonted verve and spirit; presently, however, when the\nVoices kept approaching nearer and nearer to him and increased in\nnumber on every side, he was sore perplexed. His legs began to\ntremble, he staggered and in fine overcome by fear he clean\nforgot the warning of the Darwaysh and looked back, whereat he\nwas incontinently turned to stone like the scores of knights and\nadventurers who had foregone him. Meantime the Princess Perizadah\never carried the hunting-knife, which Bahman her brother had\ngiven her, sheathed as it was in her maiden zone. She had kept it\nthere ever since he set out upon his perilous expedition, and\nwhenever she felt disposed she would bare the blade and judge by\nits sheen how fared her brother. Now until that day when he was\ntransmewed to stone she found it, as often as she looked at it,\nclean and bright; but on the very evening when that evil fate\nbetided him perchance Prince Parwez said to Perizadah, \"O sister\nmine, give me I pray thee the hunting-knife that I may see how\ngoeth it with our brother.\" She took it from her waist-belt and\nhanded it to him; and as soon as he unsheathed the knife lo and\nbehold! he saw gouts of gore begin to drop from it. Noting this\nhe dashed the hunting-knife down and burst out into loud\nlamentations, whilst the Princess who divined what had happened\nshed a flood of bitter tears and cried with sighs and sobs,\n\"Alas, O my brother, thou hast given thy life for me. Ah, woe is\nme and well-away! why did I tell thee of the Speaking-Bird and\nthe Singing-Tree and the Golden- Water? Wherefore did I ask that\nholy woman how she liked our home, and hear of those three things\nin answer to my question? Would to Heaven she had never crossed\nour threshold and darkened our doors! Ungrateful hypocrite, dost\nthou requite me on such wise for the favour and the honour I was\nfain to show thee; and what made me ask of thee the means whereby\nto win these things? If now I obtain possession of them what will\nthey advantage me, seeing that my brother Bahman is no more? What\nshould I ever do with them?\" Thus did Perizadah indulge her grief\nbewailing her sad fate; while Parwez in like manner moaned for\nhis brother Bahman with exceeding bitter mourning. At last the\nPrince, who despite his sorrow was assured that his sister still\nardently desired to possess the three marvels, turned to\nPerizadah and said, \"It behoveth me, O my sister, to set out\nforthright and to discover whether Bahman our brother met his\ndeath by doom of Destiny, or whether some enemy have slain him;\nand if he hath been killed then must I take full vengeance on his\nmurtherer.\" Perizadah besought him with much weeping and wailing\nnot to leave her, and said, \"O joy of my heart, Allah upon thee,\nfollow not in the footsteps of our dear departed brother or quit\nme in order to attempt a journey so rife in risks. I care naught\nfor those things in my fear lest I lose thee also while\nattempting such enterprise.\" But Prince Parwez would in no wise\nlisten to her lament and next day took leave of her, but ere he\nfared she said to him, \"The hunting-knife which Bahman left with\nme was the means of informing us concerning the mishap which\nhappened to him; but, say me how I shall know what happeneth to\nthee?\" Then he produced a string of pearls which numbered one\nhundred and said, \"As long as thou shalt see these pearls all\nparted one from other and each running loose upon the string,\nthen do thou know that I am alive; but an thou shouldst find them\nfixed and adhering together then be thou ware that I am dead.\"\nThe Princess taking the string of pearls hung it around her neck,\ndetermined to observe it hour after hour and find out how it\nfared with her second brother. After this Prince Parwez set out\nupon his travels and at the twentieth stage came to the same spot\nwhere Bahman had found the Darwaysh and saw him there in like\ncondition. Then, after saluting him with the salam, the Prince\nasked, \"Canst thou tell me where to find the Speaking-Bird and\nthe Singing-Tree and the Golden-Water; and by what manner of\nmeans I may get possession of them? An thou can I pray thee\ninform me of this matter.\"--And as the morn began to dawn\nShahrazad held her peace till\n\n     The end of the Six Hundred and Seventy-seventh Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the\nDarwaysh strave to stay Prince Parwez from his design and shewed\nhim all the dangers on the way. Quoth he, \"Not many days ago one\nlike unto thee in years and in features came hither and enquired\nof me concerning the matter you now seekest. I warned him of the\nperils of the place and would have weaned him from his wilful\nways, but he paid no wise heed to my warnings and refused to\naccept my counsel. He went off with full instructions from me on\nhow to find those things he sought; but as yet he hath not\nreturned, and doubtless he also hath perished like the many who\npreceded him upon that perilous enterprise.\" Then said Prince\nParwez, \"O holy father, I know the man of whom thou speakest, for\nthat he was my brother; and I learned that he was dead, but have\nno inkling of the cause whereby he died.\" Replied the Darwaysh,\n\"O my lord, I can inform thee on this matter; he hath been\ntransmewed into a black stone, like the others of whom I just now\nspake to thee. If thou wilt not accept my advice and act\naccordingly to my counsel thou also shalt perish by the same\nmeans as did thy brother; and I solemnly forewarn thee to desist\nfrom this endeavour.\" Prince Parwez having pondered these words,\npresently made reply, \"O Darwaysh, I thank thee again and again\nand am much beholden to thee that thou art fain of my welfare and\nthou hast given me the kindest of counsel and the friendliest of\nadvice; nor am I worthy of such favours bestowed upon a stranger.\nBut now remaineth naught for me to beseech that thou wilt point\nout the path, for I am fully purposed to fare forwards and in no\nwise to desist from my endeavour. I pray thee favour me with full\ninstructions for the road even as thou favouredst my brother.\"\nThen said the Darwaysh, \"An thou wilt not lend ear to my warnings\nand do as I desire thee, it mattereth to me neither mickle nor\nlittle. Choose for thyself and I by doom of Destiny must perforce\nforward thy attempt and albeit, by reason of my great age and\ninfirmities, I may not conduct thee to the place I will not\ngrudge thee a guide.\" Then Prince Parwez mounted his horse and\nthe Darwaysh taking one of many balls from out his scrip placed\nit in the youth's hands, directing him the while what to do, as\nhe had counselled his brother Bahman; and, after giving him much\nadvice and many warnings he ended with saying, \"O my lord, have a\nheed not to be perplexed and terrified by the threatening\nVoices[FN#363], and sounds from unseen beings, which shall strike\nthine ear; but advance dauntless to the hill-top where thou shalt\nfind the cage with the Speaking-Bird and the Singing-Tree and the\nGolden-Water.\" The Fakir then bid him adieu with words of good\nomen and the Prince set forth. He threw the ball upon the ground\nbefore him and, as it rolled up the path, he urged his horse to\nkeep pace with it. But when he reached the hill-foot and saw that\nthe ball had stopped and lay still, he dismounted forthright and\npaused awhile ere he should begin to climb and conned well in his\nmind the directions, one and all, given to him by the Darwaysh.\nThen, with firm courage and fast resolve, he set out afoot to\nreach the hill-top. But hardly had he begun to climb before he\nheard a voice beside him threatening him in churlish tongue and\ncrying, \"O youth of ill-omen, stand still that I may trounce thee\nfor this thine insolence.\" Hearing these insulting words of the\nInvisible Speaker, Prince Parwez felt his blood boil over; he\ncould not refrain his rage and in his passion he clean forgot the\nwords of wisdom wherewith the Fakir was warned him. He seized his\nsword and drawing it from the scabbard, turned about to slay the\nman who durst insult him in such wise; but he saw no one and, in\nthe act of looking back both he and his horse became black\nstones. Meanwhile the Princess ceased not at all hours of the day\nand watches of the night to consult the string of pearls which\nParwez had left her; she counted them overnight when she retired\nto rest, she slept with them around her neck during the hours of\ndarkness, and when she awoke at the dawn of day she first of all\nconsulted them and noted their condition. Now at the very hour\nwhen her second brother was turned to stone she found the pearls\nsticking one to other so close together that she might not move a\nsingle bead apart from its fellows and she knew thereby that\nPrince Parwez also was lost to her for ever.--And as the morn\nbegan to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n      The end of the Six Hundred and Seventy-eight Night.\n\nThen said she:\u02daI have heard, O auspicious King, that the Princess\nPerizadah was sore grieved at so sudden a blow and said to\nherself, \"Ah! Woe is me and well-away! How bitter will be living\nwithout the love of such brothers whose youthtide was sacrificed\nfor me! 'Tis but right that I share their fate whate'er be my\nlot; else what shall I have to say on the Day of Doom and the\nResurrection of the Dead and the Judgment of Mankind?\" Wherefore\nnext morning, without further let or stay, she donned disguise of\nman's attire; and, warning her women and slaves that she would be\nabsent on an errand for a term of days during which they would be\nin charge of the house and goods, she mounted her hackney and set\nout alone and unattended. Now, inasmuch as she was skilled in\nhorsemanship and had been wont to accompany her brothers when\nhunting and hawking, she was better fitted than other women to\nbear the toils and travails of travel. So on the twentieth day\nshe arrived safe and sound at the hermitage-hut where, seeing the\nsame Shaykh, she took seat beside him and after salaaming to him\nand greeting him she asked him, \"O holy father, suffer me to rest\nand refresh myself awhile in this site of good omen; then deign\npoint out to me, I pray thee, the direction of the place, at no\nfar distance herefrom, wherein are found a certain Speaking-Bird\nand a Singing-Tree and a Golden-Water. An thou wilt tell me I\nshall deem this the greatest of favour.\" Replied the Darwaysh,\n\"Thy voice revealeth to me that thou art a woman and no man,\nalbeit attired in male's apparel. Well I wot the stead whereof\nthou speakest and which containeth the marvellous things thou\nhast named. But say me, what is thy purpose in asking me?\" The\nPrincess made reply, \"I have been told many a tale anent these\nrare and wondrous things, and I would fain get possession of them\nand bear them to my home and make them its choicest adornments.\"\nAnd said the Fakir, \"O my daughter, in very truth these matters\nare exceeding rare and admirable: right fit are they for fair\nones like thyself to win and take back with thee, but thou hast\nlittle inkling of the dangers manifold and dire that encompass\nthem. Better far were it for thee to cast away this vain thought\nand go back by the road thou camest.\" Replied the Princess, \"O\nholy father and far-famed anchorite, I come from a distant land\nwhereto I will nevermore return, except after winning my wish;\nno, never! I pray thee tell me the nature of those dangers and\nwhat they be, that hearing thereof my heart may judge if I have\nor have not the strength and the spirit to meet them.\" Then the\nShaykh described to the Princess all the risks of the road as\nerst he had informed Princes Bahman and Parwez; and he ended with\nsaying, \"The dangers will display themselves as soon as thou\nshalt begin to climb the hill-head where is the home of the\nSpeaking-Bird. Then, if thou be fortunate enough to seize him, he\nwill direct thee where to find the Singing-Tree and the Golden-\nWater. All the time thou climbest the hill, Voices from throats\nunseen and accents fierce and fell shall resound in thine ears.\nFurthermore, thou shalt see black rocks and boulders strewn upon\nthy path; and these, thou must know, are the transformed bodies\nof men who with exceeding courage attempted the same enterprise,\nbut filled with sudden fear and tempted to turn and to look\nbackwards were changed into stones. Now do thou steadily bear in\nmind what was their case. At the first the listened to those\nfearful sounds and cursings with firm souls, but anon their\nhearts and minds misgave them, or, haply, they fumed with fury to\nhear the villain words addressed to them and they turned about\nand gazed behind them, whereat both men and horses became black\nboulders.\" But when the Darwaysh had told her every whit, the\nPrincess made reply, \"From what thou sayest it seemeth clear to\nme that these Voices can do nothing but threaten and frighten by\ntheir terrible din; furthermore that there is naught to prevent a\nman climbing up the hill, nor is there any fear of any one\nattacking him; all he hath to do is on no account to look behind\nhim.\" And after a short pause she presently added, \"O Fakir,\nalbeit a woman yet I have both nerve and thews to carry me\nthrough this adventure. I shall not heed the Voices not be\nenraged thereat, neither will they have any power to dismay me:\nmoreover, I have devised a device whereby my success on this\npoint is assured.\" \"And what wilt thou do?\" asked he, and she\nanswered, \"I will stop mine ears with cotton so may not my mind\nbe disturbed and reason perturbed by hearing those awesome\nsounds.\" The Fakir marvelled with great marvel and presently\nexclaimed, \"O my lady, methinks thou art destined to get\npossession of the things thou seekest. This plan hath not\noccurred to any hitherto[FN#364] and hence it is haply that one\nand all have failed miserably and have perished in the attempt.\nTake good heed to thyself, however, not run any risk other than\nthe enterprise requireth.\" She replied, \"I have no cause for fear\nsince this one and only danger is before me to prevent happy\nissue. My heart doth bear me witness that I shall surely gain the\nguerdon wherefor I have undertaken such toil and trouble, But now\ndo thou tell me what I must do, and whither to win my wish I must\nwend.\" The Darwaysh once more besought her to return home, but\nPerizadah refused to listen and remained as firm and resolute as\nbefore; so when he saw that she was fully bent upon carrying out\nher purpose he exclaimed, \"Depart, O my daughter, in the peace of\nAlmighty Allah and His blessing; and may He defend thy youth and\nbeauty from all danger.\" Then taking from his bag a ball he gave\nit her and said, \"When thou art seated in saddle throw this\nbefore thee and follow it whitherso it lead thee; and when it\nshall stop at the hill-foot then dismount and climb the slope.\nWhat will happen after I have already told thee.\"--And as the\nmorn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n      The end of the Six Hundred and Seventy-ninth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the\nPrincess after farewelling the Fakir straightway bestrode her\nsteed and threw the ball in front of his hooves as she had been\nbidden do. It rolled along before her in the direction of the\nhill and she urged her hackney to keep up with it, until reaching\nthe hill it suddenly stopped. Hereat the Princess dismounted\nforthwith and having carefully plugged both her ears with cotton,\nbegan to breast the slope with fearless heart and dauntless soul;\nand as soon as she had advanced a few steps a hubbub of voices\nbroke out all around her, but she heard not a sound, by reason of\nher hearing being blunted by the cotton-wool. Then hideous cries\narose with horrid din, still she heard them not; and at last they\ngrew to a storm of shouts and shrieks and groans and moans\nflavoured with foul language such as shameless women use when\nrailing one at other. She caught now and then an echo of the\nsounds but recked naught thereof and only laughed and said to\nherself, \"What care I for their scoffs and jeers and fulsome\ntaunts? Let them hoot on and bark and bay as they may: this at\nleast shall not turn me from my purpose.\" As she approached the\ngoal the path became perilous in the extreme and the air was so\nfilled with an infernal din and such awful sounds that even\nRustam would have quailed thereat and the bold spirit of\nAsfandiyar[FN#365] have quaked with terror. The Princess,\nhowever, pressed on with uttermost speed and dauntless heart till\nshe neared the hill-top and espied above her the cage in which\nthe Speaking-Bird was singing with melodious tones; but, seeing\nthe Princess draw nigh, he broke out despite his puny form in\nthundering tones and cried, \"Return, O fool: hie thee back not\ndare come nearer.\" Princess Perizadah heeded not his clamour a\nwhit but bravely reached the hill-top, and running over the level\npiece of ground made for the cage and seized it saying, \"At last\nI have thee and thou shalt not escape me.\" She then pulled out\nthe cotton-wool wherewith she had stopped her ears, and heard the\nSpeaking-Bird reply in gentle accents, \"O lady valiant and noble,\nbe of good cheer for no harm or evil shall betide thee, as hath\nhappened to those who essayed to make me their prize. Albeit I am\nencaged I have much secret knowledge of what happeneth in the\nworld of men and I an content to become thy slave, and for thee\nto be my liege lady. Moreover I am more familiar with all that\nconcerneth thee even than thou art thyself; and one day of the\ndays I will do thee a service which shall deserve thy gratitude.\nWhat is now thy command? Speak that I may fulfil thy wish.\"\nPrincess Perizadah was gladdened by these words, but in the midst\nof her joy she grieved at the thought of how she had lost her\nbrothers whom she loved with a love so dear, and anon she said to\nthe Speaking-Bird, \"Full many a thing I want, but first tell me\nof the Golden-Water, of which I have heard so much, be nigh unto\nthis place and if so do thou show me where to find it.\" The Bird\ndirected her accordingly and the Princess took a silver flagon\nshe had brought with her and filled it brimful from the magical\nfount. Then quoth she to the Bird, \"The third and last prize I\nhave come to seek is the Singing- Tree; discover to me where that\nalso can be found.\" The Bird replied, \"O Princess of fair ones,\nbehind thy back in yonder clump that lieth close at hand groweth\nthe Tree;\" so she went forthright to the copse and found the Tree\nshe sought singing with sweetest toned voice. But inasmuch as it\nwas huge in girth she returned to her slave the Bird and said,\n\"The Tree indeed I found but 'tis lofty and bulky; how then shall\nI pull it up?\" and he made answer, \"Pluck but a branchlet of the\nTree and plant it in thy garden; 'twill at once take root and in\nshortest time be as gross and fair a growth as that in yonder\ncopse.\" So the Princess broke off a twig, and now that she had\nsecured the three things, whereof the holy woman spake to her,\nshe was exceeding joyful and turning to the Bird said, \"I have in\nvery deed won my wish, but one thing is yet wanting to my full\nsatisfaction. My brothers who ventured forth with this same\npurpose are lying hereabouts turned into black stones; and I fain\nwould have them brought to life again and the twain return with\nme in all satisfaction and assurance of success. Tell me now some\nplan whereby mine every desire may be fulfilled.\"--And as the\nmorn began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n        The end of the Six Hundred and Eightieth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the\nSpeaking-Bird replied, \"O Princess, trouble not thyself, the\nthing is easy. Sprinkle some of the Golden-Water from the flagon\nupon the black stones lying round about, and by virtue thereof\neach and every shall come to life again, thy two brothers as well\nas the others.\" So Princess Perizadah's heart was set at rest and\ntaking the three prizes with her she fared forth and scattered a\nfew drops from the silver flagon upon each black stone as she\npassed it when, lo and behold! they came to life as men and\nhorses. Amongst them were her brothers who she at once knew and\nfalling on their necks she embraced them, and asked in tones of\nsurprise, \"O my brothers, what do ye here?\" To this they\nanswered, \"We lay fast asleep.\" Quoth she, \"Strange indeed that\nye take delight in slumber away from me and ye forget the purpose\nwherefor ye left me; to wit, the winning of the Speaking-Bird and\nthe Singing-Tree and the Golden-Water. Did ye not see this place\nall bestrown with dark hued rocks? Look now and say if there be\naught left of them. These men and horses now standing around us\nwere all black stones as ye yourselves also were; but, by the\nboon of Almighty Allah, all have come to life again and await the\nsignal to depart. And if now ye wish to learn by what strange\nmiracle both ye and they have recovered human shape, know ye that\nit hath been wrought by virtue of a water contained in this\nflagon which I sprinkled in the rocks with leave of the Lord of\nall Living. When I had gained possession of this cage and its\nSpeaking-Bird, and also of the Singing-Tree, a wand whereof ye\nsee in my hand, and lastly of the Golden-Water, I would not take\nthem home with me unless ye twain could also bear me company; so\nI asked of this Bird the means whereby ye could be brought to\nlife again. He made me drop some drops of the Golden-Water on the\nboulders and when I had done this ye two like all the others\nreturned to life and to your proper forms.\" Hearing these her\nwords the Princes Bahman and Parwez thanked and praised their\nsister Perizadah; and all the other she had saved showered thanks\nand blessings on her hear saying with one accord, \"O our lady, we\nare now thy slaves; nor can a lifelong service repay the debt of\ngratitude we owe thee for this favour thou hast shown us. Command\nand we are ready to obey thee with our hearts and our souls.\"\nQuoth Perizadah, \"The bringing back to life of these my brothers\nwere my aim and purpose, and in so doing ye too have profited\nthereby; and I accept your acknowledgements as another pleasure.\nBut now do ye mount each and every man his horse and ride back by\nthe way ye came to your homes in Allah's peace.\" On this wise the\nPrincess dismissed them and made herself ready to depart; but, as\nshe was about to bestride her steed, Prince Bahman asked\npermission of her that he might hold in hand the cage and ride in\nfront of her. She answered, \"Not so, O brother mine; this Bird is\nnow my slave and I will carry him myself. An thou wilt, take thou\nthis twig with thee, but hold the cage only till I am seated in\nsaddle.\" She then mounted her hackney and, placing the cage\nbefore her on the pommel, bade her brother Parwez take charge of\nthe Golden-Water in the silver flagon and carry it with all ease\nand the Prince did her bidding without gainsaying. And when they\nwere all ready to ride forth, including the knights and the\nsquires whom Perizadah had brought to life by sprinkling the\nWater the Princess turned to them and said, \"Why delay we our\ndeparture and how is it that none offereth to lead us?\" Bur as\nall hesitated she gave command, \"Now let him amongst you number\nwhose noblesse and high degree entitle him to such distinction\nfare before us and show us the way.\" Then all with one accord\nreplied, \"O Princes of fair ones, there be none amongst us worthy\nof such honour, nor may any wight dare to ride before thee.\" So\nwhen she saw that none amongst them claimed preeminence or right\nof guidance, and none desired to take precedence of the rest, she\nmade excuse and said, \"O my lords, 'tis not for me by right to\nlead the way, but since ye order I must needs obey.\" Accordingly\nshe pushed on to the front, and after came her brothers and\nbehind them the rest. And as they journeyed on all desired to see\nthe holy man, and thank him for his favours and friendly rede,\nbut when they reached the spot where he dwelt they found him\ndead, and they knew not if old age had taken him away, or if he\nperished in his prise because the Princess Perizadah had found\nand carried off the three things whereof he had been appointed by\nDestiny guard and guide.--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad\nheld her peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Eighty-first Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that all the\ncompany rode on, and as each one arrived at the road which led\nhim to his natal land he took leave of the Lady Perizadah and\nwent his way, until all were gone and the Princess and her\nbrothers were the only left. At last they reached their journey's\nend safe and sound, and on entering their mansion Perizadah hung\nthe cage inside the garden hard by the belvedere and no sooner\ndid the Speaking-Bird begin to sing than flights of ring-doves\nand bulbuls and nightingales and skylarks and parrots and other\nsongsters came flocking around him from afar and anear. Likewise\nshe set the twig, which she had taken from the Singing-Tree, in a\nchoice parterre also hard by the belvedere, and forthright it\ntook root and put forth boughs and buds and grew goodly in\ngrowth, till it became a trunk as large as that from which she\nhad plucked the twig, whilst from its leafage went forth\nbewitching sounds rivalling the music of the parent tree. She\nlastly bid them carve her a basin of pure white marble and set it\nin the centre of the pleasure grounds; then she poured therein\nthe Golden-Water and forthright it filled the bowl and sot\nupwards like a spouting fountain some twenty feet in height;\nmoreover the gerbes and jets fell back whence they came and not\none drop was lost: whereby the working of the waters was unbroken\nand ever similar. Now but few days passed ere the report of these\nthree wonders was bruited abroad and flocked the folk daily from\nthe city to solace themselves with the sight, and the gates stood\nalways open wide and all who came had entrance to the house and\ngardens and free leave to walk about at will and see these\nrarities which affected them with admiration and delight. Then\nalso, as soon as both the Princes had recovered from the toils of\ntravel, they began to go a-hunting as heretofore; and it chanced\none day they rode forth several miles from home and were both\nbusies in the chase, when the Shah of Iran-land came by decree of\nDestiny to the same place for the same purpose. The Princes,\nseeing a band of knights and huntsmen drawing near, were fain to\nride home and to avoid such meeting; so they left the hunting-\ngrounds and turned them homewards. But as Fate and lot would have\nit they hit upon the very road whereby King Khusrau Shah was\ncoming, and so narrow was the path that they could not avoid the\nhorsemen by wheeling round and wending another way. So they drew\nrein perforce and dismounting the salaamed and did obeisance to\nthe Shah and stood between his hands with heads held low. The\nSovran, seeing the horses' fine trappings and the Princes' costly\ngarments, thought that the two youths were in the suite of his\nWazirs and his Ministers of state and much wished to look upon\ntheir faces; he therefore bade them raise their heads and stand\nupright in the presence and they obeyed his bidding with modest\nmien and downcast eyes. He was charmed to behold their comeliness\nof favour and their graceful forms and their noble air and their\ncourtly mien; and, after gazing at them for some time in not a\nlittle wonder and admiration, he asked them who they were and\nwhen might be their names and where they abode. Hereto Prince\nBahman made reply, \"O Asylum of the Universe, we are the sons of\none whose life was spent in serving the Shah, the Intendant of\nthe royal gardens and pleasaunces. As his days grew to a close he\nbuilded him a home without the town for us to dwell in till we\nshould grow to man's estate and become fit to do thy Highness\nsuit and service and carry out thy royal commands.\" The Shah\nfurthermore asked them, \"How is it that ye go a-hunting? This is\na special sport of Kings and is not meant for the general of his\nsubjects and dependants.\" Prince Bahman rejoined, \"O Refuge of\nthe World, we are yet young in years and being brought up at home\nwe know little of courtly customs; but, as we look to bear arms\nin the armies of the Shah we fain would train our bodies to toil\nand moil.\" This answer was honoured by the royal approof and the\nKing rejoined, \"The Shah would see how ye deal with noble game;\nso choose ye whatever quarry ye will and bring it down in the\npresence.\" The Princes hereat remounted their horses and joined\nthe Sovran; and when they reached the thickmost of the forest,\nPrince Bahman started a tiger and Prince Parwez rode after a\nbear; and the twain used their spears with such skill and good\nwill that each killed his quarry and laid it at the Shah's feet.\nThen entering the wood again Prince Bahman slew a bear, and\nPrince Parwez, a tiger[FN#366] and did as before; but when they\nwould have ridden off the third time the King forbade them\nsaying, \"What! would ye strip the royal preserve of all the game?\nThis be enough and more than enough, that Shah wished only to put\nyour valour to the proof and having seen it with his own eyes he\nis fully satisfied. Come now with us and stand before us as we\nsit at meat.\" Prince Bahman made reply, \"We are not worthy of the\nhigh honour and dignity wherewith thou favourest us thy humble\nservants. We dutifully and humbly petition thy Highness to hold\nus excused for this day; but if the Asylum of the Universe deign\nappoint some other time thy slaves will right gladly execute thy\nauspicious orders.\"--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held\nher peace till\n\n      The end of the Six Hundred and Eighty-Second Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that Khusrau\nShah, astonished at their refusal, asked the cause thereof when\nPrince Bahman answered, \"May I be thy sacrifice,[FN#367] O King\nof kings, we have at home an only sister; and all three are bound\ntogether with bonds of the fondest affection; so we brothers go\nnot anywhere without consulting her nor doth she aught save\naccording to our counsel.\" The King was pleased to see such\nfraternal love and union and presently quoth he, \"By the head of\nthe Shah,[FN#368] he freely giveth you leave to go to-day:\nconsult your sister and meet the Shadow of Allah[FN#369] to-\nmorrow at this hunting-ground, and tell him what she saith and if\nshe content to let to twain and wait upon the Shah at meat.\" So\nthe Princes farewelled and prayed for him; then rode back home;\nbut they both forgot to tell their sister how they had fallen in\nwith the King; and of all that passed between them they\nremembered not one word.[FN#370] Next day again they went\nahunting and on returning from the chase the Shah enquired of\nthem, \"Have ye consulted with your sister if ye may serve the\nKing, and what saith she thereto? Have ye obtained permission\nfrom her?\" On hearing these words the Princes waxed aghast with\nfear; the colour of their faces changed, and each began to look\ninto the other's eyes. Then Bahman said, \"Pardon, O Refuge of the\nWorld, this our transgression. We both forgot the command and\nremembered not to tell her sister.\" Replied the King, \"It\nmattereth not! ask her to-day and bring me word tomorrow.\" But it\nso happened that on that day also they forgot the message yet the\nKing was not annoyed at their shortness of memory, but taking\nfrom his pocket three little balls of gold, and tying them in a\nkerchief of sillk he handed them to Prince Bahman saying, \"Put\nthese balls in thy waist shawl, so shalt thou not forget to ask\nthy sister; and if perchance the matter escape thy memory, when\nthou shalt go to bed and take off thy girdle, haply the sound of\nthem falling to the ground will remind thee of thy promise.\"\nDespite this strict injunction of the Shadow of Allah the Princes\non that day also clean forgot the order and the promise they had\nmade to the King. When, however, night came on, and Prince Bahman\nwent to his bed-chamber for sleep, he loosed his girdle and down\nfell the golden balls and at the sound the message of the Shah\nflashed across his thought. So he and his brother Parwez at once\nhastened to Perizadah's bower, where she was about retiring to\nrest; and, with many excuses for troubling her at so unseasonable\nan hour, reported to her all that happened. She lamented their\nthoughtlessness which for three successive days had caused them\nto forget the royal behest and ended with saying, \"Fortune hath\nfavoured you, O my brothers, and brought you suddenly to the\nnotice of the Asylum of the Universe, a chance which often hath\nled to the height of good. It grieveth me sore that on your over\nregard for our fraternal love and union ye did not take service\nwith the King when he deigned command you. Moreover ye have far\ngreater cause for regret and repentance than I in that ye failed\nto plead a sufficient excuse and that which ye offered must have\nsounded rude and churlish. A right dangerous thing it is to\nthwart Kingly wishes. In his extreme condescension the Shah\ncommandeth you to take service with him and ye, in rebelling\nagainst his exalted orders have done foolishly and ye have caused\nme much trouble of mind. Howbeit I will sue counsel from my slave\nthe Speaking-Bird and see what he may say; for when I have ever\nany hard and weighty question to decide I fail not to ask his\nadvice.\" Hereupon the Princess set the cage by her side and after\ntelling her slave all that her brothers have made known to her,\nasked admonition of him regarding what they should do. The\nSpeaking-Bird made answer, \"It behoveth the Princes to gratify\nthe Shah in all things he requireth of them; moreover, let them\nmake ready a feast for the King and humbly pray them to visit\nthis house, and thereby testify to him loyalty and devotion to\nhis royal person.\" Then said the Princess, \"O Bird, my brothers\nare most dear to me nor would I suffer them leave my sight for\none moment if it were possible; and Allah forfend that this\ndaring on their part do injury to our love and affection.\" Said\nthe Speaking-Bird, \"I have counselled thee for the best and have\noffered thee the right rede; nor do thou fear aught in following\nit, for naught save good shall come therefrom.\" \"But,\" quoth the\nPrincess, \"an the Shadow of Allah honour us by crossing the\nthreshold of this house needs must I present myself before him\nwith face unveiled?\"[FN#371] \"By all means,\" quoth the Speaking-\nBird, \"this will not harm thee, nay rather 'twill be to thine\nadvantage.\"--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her\npeace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Eighty-third Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that early next\nday the two Princes Bahman and Parwez rode as aforetime to the\nhunting-ground and met Khusrau Shah, who asked them, saying,\n\"What answer bring ye from your sister?\" Hereupon the elder\nbrother advancing said, \"O shadow of Allah, verily we are thy\nslaves and whatever thou deign bid that we are ready to obey.\nThese less than the least have referred the matter to their\nsister and have obtained their consent; nay more, she blamed and\nchided them for that they did not hurry to carry out the commands\nof the Refuge of the World the moment they were delivered.\nTherefore being sore displeased at us, she desireth us on her\nbehalf to plead forgiveness with the Sh\u00e1hinshah[FN#372] for this\noffence by us offered.\" Replied the King, \"No crime have ye\ncommitted to call forth the royal displeasure: nay more, it\ndelighteth the Shadow of Allah exceedingly to see the love ye\ntwain bear towards your sister.\" Hearing such words of\ncondescension and kindliness from the Shah, the Princes held\ntheir peace and hung their heads for shame groundwards; and the\nKing who that day was not keen, according to his custom, after\nthe chase, whenever he saw the brothers hold aloof, called them\nto his presence and heartened their hearts with words of favour;\nand presently, when a-weary of sport, he turned the head of his\nsteed palace-ward and deigned order the Princes to ride by his\nside. The Wazirs and Councillors and Courtiers one and all fumed\nwith envy and jealousy to see two unknowns entreated with such\nespecial favour; and as they rode at the head of the suite adown\nthe market-street all eyes were turned upon the youths and men\nasked one of other, \"Who be the two who ride beside the Shah?\nBelong they to this city, or come they from some foreign land?\"\nAnd the folk praised and blessed them saying, \"Allah send our\nKing of kings two Princes as godly and gallant as are these twain\nwho ride beside him. If our hapless Queen who languisheth in\ndurance had brought forth sons, by Allah's favour they would now\nbe of the same age as these young lords.\" But as soon as the\ncavalcade reached the palace the King alighted from his horse and\nled the Princes to his private chamber, a splendid retreat\nmagnificently furnished, wherein a table had been spread with\nsumptuous meats and rarest cates; and having seated himself\nthereat he motioned them to do likewise. Hereupon the brothers\nmaking low obeisance also took their seats and ate in well-bred\nsilence with respectful mien. Then the Shah, desiring to warm\nthen into talk[FN#373] and thereby to test their wit and wisdom,\naddressed them on themes galore and asked of them many questions;\nand, inasmuch as they had been taught well and trained in every\nart and science, they answered with propriety and perfect ease.\nThe Shah struck with admiration bitterly regretted that Almighty\nAllah had not vouchsafed to him sons so handsome in semblance and\nso apt and so learned as these twain; and, for the pleasure of\nlistening to them, he lingered at meat longer than he was wont to\ndo. And when he rose from table and retired with them to his\nprivate apartment he still sat longwhile talking with them and at\nlast in his admiration he exclaimed, \"Never until this day have I\nset eyes on youths so well brought up and so comely and so\ncapable as are these, and methinks 'twere hard to find their\nequals anywhere.\" In fine quoth he, \"The time waxeth late, so now\nlet us cheer our hearts with music.\" And forthright the royal\nband of minstrels and musicians began to sing and perform upon\ninstruments of mirth and merriment, whilst dancing-girls and boys\ndisplayed their skill, and mimes and mummers played their parts.\nThe Princes enjoyed the spectacle with extreme joy and the last\nhours of the afternoon passed in royal revelry and regale. But\nwhen the sun had set and evening came on, the youths craved\ndismissal from the Shah with many expressions of gratitude for\nthe exalted favours he had deigned bestow on them; and ere they\nfared forth the King of kings bespake them, saying, \"Come ye\nagain on the morrow to our hunting-ground as heretofore, and\nthence return to the palace. By the beard of the Shah, he fain\nwould have you always with him, and solace him with your\ncompanionship and converse.\" Prince Bahman, prostrating himself\nbefore the presence, answered, \"'Tis the very end and aim of all\nour wishes, O Shadow of Allah upon Earth, that on the morrow when\nthou shalt come from the chase and pass by our poor house, thou\ngraciously deign enter and rest in it awhile, thereby conferring\nthe highmost of honours upon ourselves and upon our sister.\nAlbeit the place is not worthy of the Shahinshah's exalted\npresence, yet at times do mighty Kings condescend to visit the\nhuts of their slaves.\" The King, ever more and more enchanted\nwith their comeliness and pleasant speech, vouchsafed a most\ngracious answer, saying, \"The dwelling place of youths in your\nestate and degree will certainly be goodly and right worthy of\nyou; and the Shah willingly consenteth for the morrow to become\nthe guest of you twain and of your sister whom, albeit he have\nnot yet seen, he is assured to find perfect in all gifts of body\nand mind. Do ye twain therefore about early dawn-tide expect the\nShah at the usual trysting-place.\" The Princes then craved leave\nto wend their ways; and going home said to their sister, \"O\nPerizadah, the Shah hath decreed that to-morrow he will come to\nour house and rest here awhile after the hunt.\" Said she, \"An so\nit be, needs must we see to it that all be made ready for a royal\nbanquet and we may not be put to shame when the Shadow of Allah\nshall deign shade us. There is no help but that in this matter I\nask of my slave, the Speaking-Bird, what counsel he would give;\nand that I prepare according thereto such meats as are meet for\nhim and are pleasing to the royal palate.\"--And as the morn began\nto dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n      The end of the Six Hundred and Eighty-fourth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the Princes\nboth approved of her plan and went to seek repose; whereupon\nPerizadah sent for the cage and setting it before her said, \"O\nBird, the Shah hath made a promise and hath decreed that he will\ndeign honour this our house on the morrow, wherefore we must\nneeds make ready for our liege lord the best of banquets and I\nbid thee say me what dishes should the kitcheners cook for him?\"\nThe Speaking-Bird replied, \"O my lady, thou hast the most skilful\nof cooks and confectioners. Do thou bid them dress for thee the\nchoicest dainties, but above all others see thou with thine own\neyes that they set before the Shah a dish of new green cucumbers\nstuffed with pearls.\" Quoth the Princess in utter wonderment,\n\"Never until this time heard I of such a dainty! How? Cucumbers\nwith a filling of pearls! And what will the King, who cometh to\neat bread and not to gaze on stones, say to such meat?\nFurthermore, I have not in my possession pearls enough to serve\nfor even a single cucumber.\" Replied the Speaking-Bird, \"This\nwere an easy matter: do thou dread naught but only act as I shall\nadvise thee. I seek not aught save thy welfare and would on no\nwise counsel thee to thy disadvantage. As for the pearls thou\nshalt collect them on this wise: go thou to-morrow betimes to the\npleasure-gardens and bid a hole be dug at the foot of the first\ntree in the avenue by thy right hand, and there shalt thou find\nof pearls as large a store as thou shalt require.\" So after dawn\non the next day Princess Perizadah bade a gardener-lad accompany\nher and fared to the sire within the pleasure-gardens whereof the\nSpeaking-Bird had told her. Here the boy dug a hole both deep and\nwide when suddenly his spade struck upon somewhat hard, and he\nremoved with his hands the earth and discovered to view a golden\ncasket well nigh one foot square. Hereupon the young gardener\nshowed it to the Princess who explained, \"I brought thee with me\nfor this very reason. Take heed and see that no harm come to it,\nbut dig it out and bring it to me with all care.\" When the lad\ndid her bidding she opened it forthright and found it filled with\npearls and unions fresh from the sea, round as rings and all of\none and the same size perfectly fitted for the purpose which the\nSpeaking-Bird had proposed. Perizadah rejoiced with extreme joy\nat the sight and taking up the box walked back with it to the\nhouse; and the Princes who had seen their sister faring forth\nbetimes with the gardener-lad and had wondered why she went to\nthe park thus early unaccording to her wonted custom, catching\nsight of her from the casement quickly donned their walking\ndresses and came to meet her. And as the two brothers walked\nforwardes they saw the Princess approaching them with somewhat\nunusual under her arm, which when they met, proved to be a golden\ncasket whereof they knew naught. Quoth they, \"O our sister at\nearly light we espied thee going to the pleasure- grounds with a\ngardener-lad empty handed, but now thou bringest back this golden\ncasket; so disclose to us where and how thou hast found it; and\nhaply there may be some hoard close hidden in the parterre?\"\nPerizadah replied, \"Sooth ye say, O my brothers: I took this lad\nwith me and made him dig under a certain tree where we came upon\nthis box of pearls, at the sight whereof methinks your hearts\nwill be delighted.\" The Princess straightway opened the box and\nher brothers sighting the pearls and unions were amazed with\nextreme amazement and rejoiced greatly to see them. Quoth the\nPrincess, \"Come now ye twain with me, for that I have in hand a\nweighty matter;\" and quoth Prince Bahman, \"What is there to do? I\npray thee tell us without delay for never yet hast thou kept\naught of thy life from us.\" She made reply, \"O my brothers, I\nhave naught to hide from you, nor think ye any ill of me, for I\nam now about to tell you all the tale.\" Then she made known to\nthem what advice the Speaking-Bird had given to her; and they,\nconning the matter over in this minds, marvelled much why her\nslave had bidden them set a dish of green cucumbers stuffed with\npearls before the Shah, nor could they devise any reason for it.\nPresently the Princess resumed, \"The Speaking-Bird indeed is wise\nand ware; so methinks this counsel must be for our advantage; and\nat any rate it cannot be without some object and purpose. It\ntherefore behoveth us to do even as he hath commanded.\" Hereupon\nthe Princess went to her own chamber and summoning the head cook\nsaid to him, \"This day the Shah, the Shadow of Allah upon Earth,\nwill condescend here to eat the noon-meal. So do thou take heed\nthat the meats be of choiest flavour and fittest to set before\nthe Asylum of the World, but of all the dishes there is one thou\nalone must make and let not another have a hand therein. This\nshall be of the freshest green cucumbers with a stuffing of\nunions and pearls.\"--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held\nher peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Eighty-fifth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the head\nCook listened to this order of the Princess with wonderment and\nsaid in himself, \"Who ever heard of such a dish or dreamed of\nordering such a one.\" The Lady seeing his astonishment betrayed\nin his semblance without the science of thought-reading,[FN#374]\nsaid to him, \"It seemeth from thy countenance that thou deemest\nme daft of wit to give thee such order. I know that no one ever\ntasted a dish of the kind, but what is that to thee? Do thou e'en\nas thou art bidden. Thou seest this box brimful on pearls; so\ntake of them as many as thou needest for the dish, and what\nremaineth over leave in the box.\" The Kitchener who could answer\nnothing in his confusion and amazement, chose as many precious\nstones as he required, and presently fared away to superintend\nthe meats being cooked and made ready for the feast. Meanwhile\nthe Princess when over the house and grounds and gave directions\nto the slaves about the ordinance thereof, leading especial\nattention to the carpets and divans, the lamps and all other\nfurniture. Next day at break of dawn Princes Bahman and Parwez\nrode forth in rich attire to the appointed place where they first\nmet the Shah, who was also punctual to his promise and vouchsafed\nto join them in the hunt. Now when the sun had risen high and its\nrays waxed hot, the King gave up the chase, and set forth with\nthe Princes to their house; and as they drew nigh thereto the\ncadet pushed forwards and sent word to the Princess that the\nAsylum of the World was coming in all good omen. Accordingly, he\nhastened to receive him and stood waiting his arrival at the\ninner entrance; and after, when the King rode up to the gate and\ndismounting within the court stepped over the threshold of the\nhouse-door, she fell down at his feet and did worship. Hereat her\nbrothers said, \"O Asylum of the World, this is our sister of whom\nwe spake;\" and the Shah with gracious kindness and condescension\nraised her by the hand, and when he saw her face he marvelled\nmuch at its wondrous comeliness and loveliness. He thought in\nhimself, \"How like she is to her brothers in favour and form, and\nI trow there be none of all my lieges in city or country who can\ncompare with them for beauty and noble bearing. This country-\nhouse also exceedeth all that I have ever seen in splendour and\ngrandeur.\" The Princess then led the Shah through the house and\nshowed him all the magnificence thereof, while he rejoiced with\nextreme joy at everything that met his sight. So when King\nKhusrau had considered whatso was in the mansion he said to the\nPrincess, \"This home of thine is far grander than any palace\nowned by the Shah, who would now stroll about the pleasure-\ngarden, never doubting but that it will be delightsome at the\nhouse.\" Hereat the Princess threw wide open the door whence the\ngrounds could be seen; and at once the King beheld before and\nabove all other things, the fountain which cast up incessantly,\nin gerbes and jets, water clear as crystal withal golden of hue.\nSeeing such prodigy he cried, \"This is indeed a glorious gusher:\nnever before saw I one so admirable. But say me where is its\nsource, and by what means doth it shoot up in spurts so high?\nWhence cometh this constant supply and in what fashion was it\nformed? The Shah would fain see it near hand.\" \"O King of kings,\nand Lord of the lands,\" quoth the Princess, \"be pleased to do\nwhatso thou desirest.\" Thereupon they went up to the fountain and\nthe Shah stood gazing upon it with delight when behold, he heard\na concert of sugar-sweet voices choiring with the harmony and\nmelody of wit-ravishing music. So he turned him around and gazed\nabout him to discover the singers, but no one was in sight; and\nalbeit he looketh both hard and near all was in vain, he heard\nthe voices but he could descry no songster. At length completely\nbaffled he exclaimed, \"Whence come these most musical of sounds;\nand rise they from the bowels of earth or are they floating in\nthe depths of air? They fill the heart with rapture, but\nstrangely surprise the senses to see that no one singer is in\nsight.\" Replied the Princess with a smile \"O Lord of lords, there\nare no minstrels here and the strains which strike the Shah's ear\ncome from yonder tree. Deign walk on, I pray thee, and examine it\nwell.\" So be advanced thereto, ever more and more enchanted with\nthe music, and he gazed now at the Golden-Water and now at the\nSinging-Tree till lost in wonderment and amazement; then, \"O\nAllah,\" said he to himself, \"is all this Nature-made or magical,\nfor in very deed the place is full of mystery?\" Presently,\nturning to the Princess quoth he, \"O my lady, prithee whence came\nye by this wondrous tree which hath been planted in the\nmiddlemost of this garden: did anyone bring it from some far\ndistant land as a rare gift, and by what name is it known?\" Quoth\nPerizadah in reply, \"O King of kings, this marvel hight Singing-\nTree groweth not in our country. 'Twere long to recount whence\nand by what means I obtained it; and suffice it for the present\nto say that the Tree, together with the Golden-Water and the\nSpeaking-Bird, were all found by me at one and the same time.\nDeign now accompany thy slave and look upon this third rarity;\nand when the Shah shall have rested and recovered from the toils\nand travails of hunting, the tale of these three strange things\nshall be told to the Asylum of the World in fullest detail.\"\nHereto the King replied, \"All the Shah's fatigue hath gone for\ngazing upon these wonders; and now to visit the Speaking-Bird.\"--\nAnd as the morning began to dawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n       The end of the Six Hundred and Eighty-sixth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the\nPrincess took the King and when she had shown to him the\nSpeaking-Bird, they returned to the garden where he never ceased\nconsidering the fountain with extreme surprise and presently\nexclaimes, \"How is this? No spring whence cometh all this water\nmeeteth the Shah's eye, and no channel; nor is there any\nreservoir large enough to contain it.\" She replied, \"Thou\nspeakest sooth, O King of kings! This jetting font hath no\nsource; and it springeth from a small marble basin which I filled\nfrom a single flagon of the Golden-Water; and by the might of\nAllah Almighty it increased and waxed copious until it shot up in\nthis huge gerbe which the Shah seeth. Furthermore it ever playeth\nday and night; and, marvellous to relate, the water falling back\nfrom that height into the basin minisheth not in quantity nor is\naught of it spilt or wasted.\" Hereat the King, filled with wonder\nand astonishment, bade go back to the Speaking-Bird; whereupon\nthe Princess led him to the belvedere whence he looked out upon\nthousands of all manner fowls carolling in the trees and filling\nair with their hymns and prises of the Creator; so he asked his\nguide, \"O my lady, whence come these countless songsters which\nhaunt yonder tree and make the welkin resound with their\nmelodious notes; yet they affect none other of the trees?\" Quoth\nPerizadah, \"O King of kings, they are all attracted by the\nSpeaking-Bird and flock hither to accompany his song; and for\nthat his cage hangeth to the window of this belvedere they prefer\nonly the nearest of the trees; and here he may be heard singing\nsweeter notes than any of the others, nay in a plaint more\nmusical than that of any nightingale.\" And as the Shah drew nigh\nthe cage and gave ear to the Bird's singing, the Princess called\nto her captive saying, \"Ho, my slave the Bird, dost thou not\nperceive the Asylum of the Universe is here that thou payest him\nnot due homage and worship?\" Hearing these words the Speaking-\nBird forthright ceased his shrilling and at the same moment all\nthe other songsters sat in deepest silence; for they were loyal\nto their liege lord nor durst any one utter a note when he held\nhis peace. The Speaking-Bird then spake in human voice saying, \"O\ngreat King, may Almighty Allah by His Might and Majesty accord\nthee health and happiness;\" so the Shah returned the salutation\nand the Slave of Princess Perizadah ceased not to shower\nblessings upon his head. Meanwhile the tables were spread after\nsumptuous fashion and the choicest meats were set before the\ncompany which was seated in due order and degree, the Shah\nplacing himself hard by the Speaking-Bird and close to the\ncasement where the cage was hung. Then the dish of green\ncucumbers having been set before him, he put forth his hand to\nhelp himself, but drew it back in wonderment when he saw that the\ncucumbers, ranged in order upon the plate, were stuffed with\npearls which appeared at either end. He asked the Princess and\nher brothers, \"What is this dish? It cannot be meant for food;\nthen wherefore is it placed before the Shah? Explain to me, I\ncommand you, what this thing meaneth.\" They could not give an\nanswer unknowing what reply to make, and as all held their peace\nthe Speaking-Bird answered for them saying, \"O King of the Age\nand the Time, dost thou deem it strange to see a dish of\ncucumbers stuffed with pearls? How much stranger then it is that\nthou wast not astonished to hear that the Queen thy Consort had,\ncontrary to the laws of Allah's ordinance, given birth to such\nanimals as dog and cat and musk-rat. This should have caused thee\nfar more of wonder, for who hath ever heard of woman bearing such\nas these?\" Hereat the Shah made answer to the Speaking-Bird, \"All\nthat thou sayest is right indeed and I know that such things are\nnot after the law of Almighty Allah; but I believed the reports\nof the midwives, the wise women who were with the Queen such time\nshe was brought to bed, for they were not strangers but her own\nsisters, born of the same parents as herself. How then could I do\notherwise than trust their words?\" Quoth the Speaking-Bird, \"O\nKing of kings, indeed the truth of the matter is not hidden from\nme. Albeit they be the sisters of thy Queen, yet seeing the royal\nfavours and affection towards their cadette they were consumed\nwith anger and hatred and despite by reason of their envy and\njealousy. So they devised evil devices against her and their\ndeceits at last succeeded in diverting thy thoughts from her, and\nin hiding her virtues from thy sight. Now are their malice and\ntreason made manifest to thee; and, if thou require further\nproof, do thou summon them and question them of the case. They\ncannot hide it from thee and will be reduced to confess and crave\nthy pardon.\"--And as the morn began to dawn Shahrazad held her\npeace till\n\n      The end of the Six Hundred and Eighty-seventh Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King, that the\nSpeaking-Bird also said to Khusrau Shah, \"These two royal\nbrothers so comely and stalwart and this lovely Princess, their\nsister, are thine own lawful children to whom the Queen thy\nConsort gave birth. The midwives, thy sisters-in-law, by reason\nof the blackness of their hearts and faces bore them away as soon\nas they were born: indeed every time a child was given to thee\nthey wrapped it in a bit of blanket and putting it in a basket\ncommitted it to the stream which floweth by the palace to the\nintent that it might die an obscure death. But it so fortuned\nthat the Intendant of thy royal gardens espied these baskets one\nand all as they floated past his grounds, and took charge of the\ninfants he found therein. He then caused them to be nursed and\nreared with all care and, whilst they were growing up to man's\nestate, he looked to their being taught every art and science;\nand whilst his life endured he dealt with them and brought them\nup in love and tenderness as though they had been his very own.\nAnd now, O Khusrau Shah, wake from thy sleep of ignorance and\nheedlessness, and know that these two Princes Bahman and Parwez\nand the Princess Perizadah their sister are thine own issue and\nthy rightful heirs.\" When the King heard these words and was\nassured of the purport being true and understood the evil doing\nof those Satans, his sisters-in-law, he said, \"O Bird, I am\nindeed persuaded of thy soothfastness, for when I first saw these\nyouths at the hunting-ground my bowels yearned with affection\ntowards them and my heart felt constrained to love them as though\nthey had been my own seed. Both they and their sister have drawn\nmy affections to them as a magnet draweth iron: and the voice of\nblood crieth to me and compelleth me to confess the tie and to\nacknowledge that they are my true children, borne in the womb of\nmy Queen, whose direful Destiny I have been the means of carrying\nout.\" Then turning to the Princes and their sister he said with\ntearful eyes and broken voice, \"Ye are my children and henceforth\ndo ye regard me as your father.\" At this they ran to him with\nrare delight and falling on his neck embraced him. Then they all\nsat down to meat and when they had finished eating, Khusrau Shah\nsaid to them, \"O my children, I must now leave you, but\nInshallah--Allah willing--I will come again to-morrow and bring\nwith me the Queen your mother.\" So saying he farewelled them\nfondly and mounting his horse departed to his palace; and no\nsooner had he seated himself upon his throne than he summoned the\nGrand Wazir and commanded him saying, \"Do thou send this instant\nand bind in heaviest bonds those vile women, the sisters of my\nQueen; for their ill deeds have at last come to light and they\ndeserve to die the death of murtherers. Let the Sworder\nforthright make sharp his sword; for the ground thirsteth for\ntheir blood. Go see thyself that they are beheaded without stay\nor delay: await not other order, but instantly obey my\ncommandment.\" The Grand Wazir went forth at one and in his\npresence the Envious Sisters were decapitated and this underwent\nfit punishment for their malice and their evil doing. After this,\nKhusrau Shah with his retinue walked afoot to the Cathedral-\nmosque whereby the Queen had been imprisoned for so many years in\nbitter grief and tenderly embraced her. Then seeing her sad\nplight and her careworn countenance and wretched attire he wept\nand cried, \"Allah Almighty forgive me this mine unjust and\nwrongful dealing towards thee. I have put to death thy sisters\nwho deceitfully and despitefully raised my wrath and anger\nagainst thee, the innocent, the guiltless; and they have received\ndue retribution for their misdeeds.\"--And as the morn began to\ndawn Shahrazad held her peace till\n\n      The end of the Six Hundred and Eighty-eighth Night.\n\nThen said she:--I have heard, O auspicious King that the King\nspake kindly and fondly to his Consort, and told her all that had\nbetided him, and what the Speaking-Bird had made known to him,\nending with these words, \"Come now with me to the palace where\nthou shalt thee thy two sons and daughter grown up to become the\nloveliest of things. Hie with me and embrace them and take them\nto thy bosom, for they are our children, the light of our etes.\nBut first do thou repair to the Hammam and don thy royal robes\nand jewels.\" Meanwhile tidings of these events were noised about\nthe city how the King had at length shown due favour to the\nQueen, and had released her from bondage with his own hands and\nprayed forgiveness for the wrongs he had done to her; and how the\nPrinces and the Princess had been proved to be her true-born\nchildren, and also how Khusrau Shah had punished her sisters who\nconspired against her; so joy and gladness prevailed both in city\nand kingdom, and all the folk blessed the Shah's B\u00e1n\u00fa and cursed\nthe Satanesses her sisters. And next day when the Queen had\nbathed in the Hammam and had donned royal dress and regal jewels,\nshe went to meet her children together with the King who led up\nto her the Princes Bahman and Parwez and the Princess Perizadah\nand said, \"See, here are thy children, fruit of thy womb and core\nof thy heart, thine own very sons and thy daughter: embrace them\nwith all a mother's love and extend thy favour and affection to\nthem even as I have done. When thou didst give them birth, thine\nillomened sisters bore them away from thee and cast them into\nyonder stream and said that thou hadst been delivered first of a\npuppy, then of a kitten and lastly of a musk-ratling. I cannot\nconsole myself for having credited their calumnies and the only\nrecompense I can make is to place in thine embrace these three\nthou broughtest forth, and whom Allah Almighty hath restored to\nus and hath made right worthy to be called our children.\" Then\nthe Princes and Princess fell upon their mother's neck and fondly\nembraced her weeping tear-floods of joy. After this the Shah and\nthe Banu sai down to meat together with their children; and when\nthey had made an end of eating, King Khusrau Shah repaired to the\ngarden with his Consort that he might show her the Singing-Tree\nand the fountain of Golden-Water, whereat the Queen was filled\nwith wonder and delight. Next they turned to the belvedere and\nvisited the Speaking-Bird of whom, as they sat at meat, the King\nhad spoken to her in highest praise, and the Queen rejoiced in\nhis sweet voice and melodious singing. And when they had seen all\nthese things, the King mounted horse, Prince Bahman riding on his\nright hand and on his left Prince Parwez, while the Queen took\nPrincess Perizadah with her inside her litter, and thus they set\nforth for the palace. As the royal cavalcade passed the city\nwalls and entered the capital with royal pomp and circumstance,\nthe subjects who had heard the glad tidings thronged in\nmultitudes to see their progress and volleyed shouts of\nacclamation; and as the lieges had grieved aforetime to see the\nQueen-consort imprisoned, so now the rejoiced with exceeding joy\nto find her free once more. But chiefly they marvelled to look\nupon the Speaking-Bird, for the Princess carried the cage with\nher, and as they rode along thousands of sweet-toned songsters\ncame swarming round them from every quarter, and flew as an\nescort to the cage, filling the air with marvellous music; while\nflocks of others, perching upon the trees and the housetops,\ncarolled and warbled as it were to greet their lord's cage\naccompanying the royal cavalcade. And when the palace was\nreached, the Shah and his Queen and his children sat down to a\nsumptuous banquet; and the city was illuminated, and everywhere\ndancings and merry-makings testified to the joy of the lieges;\nand for many days these revels and rejoicings prevailed\nthroughout the capital and the kingdom where every man was blithe\nand happy and had feastings and festivities in his house, After\nthese festivals King Khusrau Shah made his elder son Bahman heir\nto his throne and kingdom and committed to his hands the affairs\nof state in their entirety, and the Prince administered affairs\nwith such wisdom and success that the greatness and glory of the\nrealm were increased twofold. The Shah also entrusted to his\nyoungest son Parwez the charge of his army, both of horsemen and\nfoot-soldiers; and Princess Perizadah was given by her sire in\nmarriage to a puissant King who reigned over a mighty country;\nand lastly the Queen-mother forgot in perfect joy and happiness\nthe pangs of her captivity. Destiny ever afterwards endowed them,\none and all, with days the most delectable and they led the\nliefest of lives until at last there came to them the Destroyer\nof delights and the Sunderer of societies and the Depopulator of\npalaces and the Garnerer of graveyards and the Reaper for\nResurrection-day, and they became as though they had never been.\nSo laud be to the Lord who dieth not and who knoweth no shadow of\nchange.\n\n\n\n\n\nEnd of Volume 9.\n\n\n\n\n                           Appendix.\n\n\n\n\n      VARIANTS AND ANALOGUES OF THE TALES In VOLUME XIII.\n\n                       By W. A. Clouston.\n\n\n\n\n                The Tale of Zayn Al-Asnam--p. 1.\n\n\n\nThis story is a compound of two distinct tales, namely, the Dream of Riches\nand the Quest of the Ninth Image. It has always been one of the most popular\nof the tales in our common version of the \"Arabian Nights,\" with this\nadvantage, that it is perhaps the only one of the whole collection in which\nsomething like a moral purpose may be discovered--\"a virtuous woman is more\nprecious than fine gold.\" Baron de Sacy has remarked of The Nights, that in\nthe course of a few years after Galland's version appeared \"it filled Europe\nwith its fame, though offering no object of moral or philosophical interest,\nand detailing stories merely for the pleasure of relating them.\" But this last\nstatement is not quite accurate: Shahrazad relates her stories merely to\nprolong her own life.\n\nIt is a curious fact--and one perhaps not very generally known--that the Tale\nof Zayn al-Asn\u00e1m is one of two (the other being that of Khud\u00e1d\u00e1d) which\nGalland repudiated, as having been foisted into his 8th volume without his\nknowledge, as he expressly asserts in the \"Avertissement\" to the 9th vol.,\npromising to remove them in a second edition, which, however, he did not live\nto see. I understand that M. Herrmann Zotenberg purposes showing, in his\nforthcoming edition of \"Aladdin,\" that these two histoires (including that of\nthe Princess of Dary\u00e1b\u00e1r, which is interwoven with the tale of Khud\u00e1d\u00e1d and\nhis Brothers) were Turkish tales translated by M. Petis de la Croix and were\nintended to appear in his \"Mille et un Jours,\" which was published, after his\ndeath, in 1710; and that, like most of the tales in that work, they were\nderived from the Turkish collection entitled \"Al-Far\u00e1j ba'd al-Shiddah,\" or\nJoy after Affliction. But that Turkish story-book is said to be a translation\nof the Persian collection entitled \"Haz\u00e1r \u00fa Yek R\u00faz\" (the Thousand and One\nDays), which M. Petis rendered into French.\n\nIn the preface to Petis' work it is stated that during his residence in\nPersia, in 1675, he made a transcript of the \"Haz\u00e1r \u00fa Yek R\u00faz,\" by permission\nof the author, a dervish named Mukhlis, of Isfah\u00e1n. That transcript has not, I\nunderstand, been found; but Sir William Ouseley brought a manuscript from\nPersia which contained a portion of the \"Haz\u00e1r \u00fa Yek R\u00faz,\" and which he says\n(\"Travels\" vol. ii. p. 21, note) agreed so far with the French version. And it\ndoes seem strange that Petis should go to the Turkish book for tales to\ninclude in his \"Mille et un Jours\" when he had before him a complete copy of\nthe Persian original, and even if he did so, how came his French rendering of\nthe tales in question into the hands of Galland's publisher? The tales are not\nfound in Petis' version, which is regularly divided into 1001 Days, and the\nTurkish work, judging from the titles of the eleven first tales, of which I\nhave seen a transcript by M. Zotenberg, has a number of stories which do not\noccur in the Persian.[FN#375] But I think it very unlikely that the tales of\nKhud\u00e1d\u00e1d and the Princess foisted into Galland's 8th volume, were translated\nfrom the Turkish collection. In Galland the story of the Princess Dary\u00e1b\u00e1r is\ninserted in that of Khud\u00e1d\u00e1d; while in the Turkish story-book they are\nseparate tales, the 6th recital being under the title, \"Of the Vaz\u00edr with the\nDaughter of the Prince of Dary\u00e1b\u00e1n,\" and the 9th story is \"Of the Sons of the\nSovereign of Harr\u00e1n with Khud\u00e1d\u00e1d.\" This does not seem to support the\nassertion that these tales in Galland were derived from the Turkish versions:\nand it is not to be supposed, surely, that the translator of the versions in\nGalland conceived the idea of fusing the two stories together?\n\nThe first part of the tale of Zaun al-Asnam--the Dream of Riches--is an\ninteresting variant of the tale in The Nights, vol. iv. p. 289, where (briefly\nto recapitulate, for purposes of comparison by-and-by) a man of Baghdad,\nhaving lost all his wealth and become destitute, dreams one night that a\nfigure appeared before him and told him that his fortune was in Cairo. To that\ncity he went accordingly, and as it was night when he arrived, he took shelter\nin a mosque. A party of thieves just then had got into an adjacent house from\nthat same mosque, and the inmates, discovering them, raised such an outcry as\nto bring the police at once on the spot. The thieves contrive to get away, and\nthe wal\u00ed, finding only the man of Baghdad in the mosque, causes him to be\nseized and severely beaten after which he sends him to prison, where the poor\nfellow remains thirty days, when the wal\u00ed sends for him and begins to question\nhim. The man tells his story, at which the wal\u00ed laughs, calls him an ass for\ncoming so far because of a dream, and adds that he himself had had a similar\ndream of a great treasure buried in the garden of such a house in Baghdad, but\nhe was not so silly as to go there. The poor man recognises his own house and\ngarden from the wal\u00ed's description, and being set at liberty returns to\nBaghdad, and finds the treasure on the very spot indicated.\n\nLane, who puts this story (as indeed he has done with much better ones) among\nhis notes, states that it is also related by El-Ish\u00e1k\u00ed, who flourished during\nthe reign of the Khal\u00edf El-Ma'm\u00fan (9th century), and his editor Edward Stanley\nPoole adds that he found it also in a MS. of Lane's entitled \"Murshid ez-Z\u00fawar\nil\u00e1 el-Abrar,\" with the difference that it is there related of an Egyptian\nsaint who travelled to Baghdad, and was in the same manner directed to his own\nhouse in El-Fust\u00e1t.\n\nThe same story is told in the 6th book of the \"Masnav\u00ed,\" an enormously long\nsuf\u00ed poem, written in Persian, by Jel\u00e1d ed-Din, the founder of the sect of\nMuslim devotees generally known in Europe as the Dancing Dervishes, who died\nin 1272. This version differs from the Arabian in but a few and unimportant\ndetails: Arriving at Cairo, destitute and hungry, he resolves to beg when it\nis dark, and is wandering about, \"one foot forward, one foot backwards,\" for a\nthird of the night, when suddenly a watchman pounces on him and beats him with\nfist and stick--for the people having been plagued with robbers, the Khal\u00edf\nhad given orders to cut off the head of any one found abroad at night. The\nwretched man begs for mercy till he has told his story, and when he has\nfinished the watchman acquaints him of a similar dream he had had of treasure\nat Baghdad.[FN#376]\n\nA Turkish variant occurs in the \"History of the Forty Vaz\u00edrs,\" where a poor\nwater-carrier of Cairo, named Nu'm\u00e1n, presents his son's teacher with his only\ncamel, which he used daily for carrying his skins of water, as a reward for\ninstructing the lad in the Kur\u00e1n, and his wife rails at him for his folly in\nno measured terms. In his sleep a white haired old man appears to him in a\ndream and tells him to go to Damascus, where he would find his portion. After\nthis has occurred three times in succession, poor Nu'm\u00e1n, spite of his wife's\nremonstrances, sets out for Damascus, enters a mosque there, and receives a\nloaf of bread from a man who had been baking, and having eaten it falls\nasleep. Returning home, his wife reviles him for giving away a camel and doing\nother mad things. But again the venerable old man appears to him thrice in a\ndream, and bids him dig close by himself, and there he would find his\nprovision. When he takes shovel and pick-axe to dig, his wife's tongue is more\nbitter than before, and after he had laboured a while and begins to feel\nsomewhat fatigued, when he asks her to take a short spell at the work, she\nmocks him and calls him anything but a wise man. But on his laying bare a\nstone slab, she thinks there must be something beneath it, and offers to\nrelieve him. \"Nu'm\u00e1n,\" quoth she \"thou'rt weary now.\" \"No, I'm rested, says\nhe. In the end he discovers a well, goes down into it, and finds a jar full of\nsequins, upon seeing which his wife clasps him lovingly round the neck,\nexclaiming, \"O my noble little hubby! Blessed be God for thy luck and thy\nfortune!\" Her tune changes, however, when the honest water-carrier tells her\nthat he means to carry the treasure to the King, which he does, and the King\nhaving caused the money to be examined, the treasure is found to have the\nfollowing legend written on it: \"This is an alms from God to Nu'm\u00e1n, by reason\nof his respect for the Kur\u00e1n.\"[FN#377]\n\nThis curious story, which dates, as we have seen, at least as far back as the\n9th century appears to be spread over Europe. Mr. E. Sidney Hartland, in an\nable paper treating of several of its forms in \"The Antiquary\" for February,\n1887, pp. 45-48, gives a Sicilian version from Dr. Pitre's collection, which\nis to this effect:\n\nA poor fellow at Palermo, who got his living by salting tunny and selling it\nafterwards dreamt one night that a person came to him and said that if he\nwished to find his fortune he would find it under the bridge of the Teste.\nThither he goes and sees a man in rags and is beginning to retire when the man\ncalls him back, informs him that he is his fortune and bids him go at midnight\nof that same night to the place where he had deposited his casks of tunny, dig\nthere, and whatever he found was his own. The tunny-seller gets a pick-axe and\nat midnight begins to dig. He comes upon a large flat stone, which he raises\nand discovers a staircase; he descends, and at the bottom finds an immense\ntreasure of gold. In brief, he becomes so rich that he lends the King of Spain\n\"a million,\" to enable him to carry on his wars; the King makes him Viceroy of\nSicily, and by-and by, being unable to repay the loan, raises him to the\nhighest royal dignities.\n\nJohannes Fungerus, in his \"Etymologicon Latino-Gr cum,\" published at Leyden in\n1607, in art. Somnus, gravely relates the story, with a young Dutchman for the\nhero and as having happened \"within the memory of our fathers, both as it has\nbeen handed down in truthful and honourable fashion as well as frequently told\nto me.\"[FN#378] His \"true story\" may thus be rendered:\n\nA certain young man of Dort, in Holland, had squandered his wealth and all his\nestate and having contracted a debt, was unable to pay it. A certain one\nappeared to him in a dream, and advised him to betake himself to Kempen, and\nthere on the bridge he would receive information from some one as to the way\nin which he should be extricated from his difficulties. He went there, and\nwhen he was in a sorrowful mood and thinking upon what had been told him and\npromenaded almost the whole day, a common beggar, who was asking alms, pitying\nhis condition, sat down and asked him, \"Why so sad?\" Thereupon the dreamer\nexplained to him his sad and mournful fate, and why he had come there\nforsooth, under the impulse of a dream, he had set out thither, and was\nexpecting God as if by a wonder, to unravel this more than Gordian knot. The\nmendicant answered \"Good Heaven! are you so mad and foolish as to rely on a\ndream, which is emptier than nothing, and journey hither? I should betake\nmyself to Dort, to dig up a treasure buried under such a tree in such a man's\ngarden (now this garden had belonged to the dreamer's father), likewise\nrevealed to me in a dream.\" The other remained silent and pondering all that\nhad been said to him, then hastened with all speed to Dort, and under the\naforesaid tree found a great heap of money, which freed him from his\nobligations, and having paid off all his debts, he set up in a more sumptuous\nstyle than before.\n\nThe second part of the tale, or novelette, of \"The Spectre Barber,\" by Musaeus\n(1735-1788), is probably an elaboration of some German popular legend closely\nresembling the last-cited version, only in this instance the hero does not\ndream, but is told by a ghost, in reward for a service he had done it (or\nhim), to tarry on the great bridge over the Weser, at the time when day and\nnight are equal, for a friend who would instruct him what he must do to\nretrieve his fortune. He goes there at dawn, and walks on the bridge till\nevening comes, when there remained no one but himself and a wooden legged\nsoldier to whom he had given a small coin in the early morning, and who\nventured at length to ask him why he had promenaded the bridge all day. The\nyouth at first said he was waiting for a friend, but on the old soldier\nremarking that he could be no friend who would keep him waiting so long, he\nsaid that he had only dreamt he was to meet some friend (for he did not care\nto say anything about his interview with the ghost), the old fellow observed\nthat he had had many dreams, but put not the least faith in them. \"But my\ndream,\" quoth the youth, \"was a most remarkable one.\" \"It couldn't have been\nso remarkable as one I had many years ago,\" and so on, as usual, with this\naddition, that the young man placed the old soldier in a snug little cottage\nand gave him a comfortable annuity for life--taking care, we may be sure, not\nto tell him a word as to the result of acting upon his dream.\n\nTo what extent Musaeus has enlarged his original material it is impossible to\nsay; but it is well known that, like Hans Andersen in later times, he did\n\"improve and add to such popular tales and traditions as he dealt with--a\ncircumstance which renders him by no means trustworthy for folk-lore purposes.\n\nIn Denmark our well-travelled little tale does duty in accounting for the\nbuilding of a parish church, as we learn from Thorpe, in his \"Northern\nMythology,\" vol. ii. p. 253:\n\nMany years ago there lived in Errits\u02dc, near Frederica, a very poor man who one\nday said, \"If I had a large sum of money, I would build a church for the\nparish.\" The following night he dreamed that if he went to the south bridge at\nVeile he would make his fortune. He followed the intimation and strolled\nbackwards and forwards on the bridge until it grew late, but without seeing\nany sign of good fortune. When just on the point of returning, he was accosted\nby an officer, who asked him why he had spent a whole day so on the bridge. He\ntold him his dream, on hearing which the officer related to him in return that\nhe also on the preceding night had dreamed that in a barn in Errits\u02dc,\nbelonging to a man whose name he mentioned, a treasure lay buried. Now the\nname he mentioned was the man's own, who prudently kept his own counsel,\nhastened home, and found the treasure in a barn. The man was faithful to his\nword, and built the church.[FN#379]\n\nEqually at home, as we have seen, in Sicily, Holland, Germany, and Denmark,\nthe identical legend is also domiciled in Scotland and England. Thus Robert\nChambers, in his \"Popular Rhymes of Scotland,\" ed. 1826, p. 56, speaking of\nDundonald Castle, in Ayrshire, the ancient seat of King Robert II., relates\nthe following local tradition:\n\nDonald, the builder, was originally a poor man, but had the faculty of\ndreaming lucky dreams. Upon one occasion he dreamed thrice in one night that\nif he were to go to London Bridge he would make a fortune. He went\naccordingly, and saw a man looking over the parapet of the bridge, whom he\naccosted courteously, and after a little conversation, intrusted him with the\nsecret of the occasion of his visiting London Bridge. The stranger told him\nthat he had made a very foolish errand, for he had himself once had a similar\nvision, which directed him to go to a certain spot in Ayrshire, in Scotland,\nwhere he would find a vast treasure, and for his part he had never once\nthought of obeying the injunction. From his description of the spot, however,\nthe sly Scot at once perceived that the treasure in question must be concealed\nnowhere but in his own humble kail-yard at home, to which he immediately\nrepaired, in full expectation of finding it. Nor was he disappointed; for\nafter destroying many good and promising cabbages, and completely cracking\ncredit with his wife, who considered him as mad, he found a large potful of\ngold coin, with which he built a stout castle for himself, and became the\nfounder of a flourishing family.\n\n\"This absurd story,\" adds Chambers, \"is localised in almost every district of\nScotland always referring to London Bridge, and Hogg (the Ettrick Shepherd)\nhas worked up the fiction in a very amusing manner in one of his 'Winter\nEvening Tales,' substituting the Bridge at Kelso for that of London.\"\n\nBut the legend of the Chapman, or Pedlar, of Swaffam, in Norfolk, handed down,\nas it has been, from one credulous generation to another, with the most minute\ndetails and perfect local colour, throws quite into the shade all other\nversions or variants of the ancient tale of the poor man of Baghdad.\nBlomfield, in his \"History of Norfolk,\" 8vo ea., vol. vi. 211-213, reproduces\nit as follows, from Sir Roger Twysden's \"Reminiscences\":\n\n\"The story of the Pedlar of Swaffam Market is in substance this: That dreaming\none night, if he went to London, he should certainly meet with man upon London\nBridge which should tell him good news; he was so perplexed in his mind that\ntill he set upon his journey he could have no rest. To London therefore he\nhastes, and walked upon the Bridge for some hours, where being espied by a\nshopkeeper and asked what he wanted, he answered, 'You may well ask me that\nquestion, for truly (quoth he) I am come hither upon a very vain errand,' and\nso told the story of his dream which occasioned his journey. Whereupon the\nshopkeeper replied, 'Alas, good friend, should I have heeded dreams I might\nhave proved myself as very a fool as thou hast; for 'tis not long since that I\ndreamt that at a place called Swaffam Market, in Norfolk, dwells one John\nChapman, a pedlar, who hath a tree in his back yard, under which is buried a\npot of money. Now, therefore if I should have made a journey thither to dig\nfor such hidden treasure, judge you whether I should not have been counted a\nfool.' To whom the Pedlar cunningly said, 'Yes, truly: I will therefore return\nhome and follow my business, not heeding such dreams hence-forward.' But when\nhe came home (being satisfied that his dream was fulfilled), he took occasion\nto dig in that place, and accordingly found a large pot full of money, which\nhe prudently concealed, putting the pot among the rest of his brass. After a\ntime, it happened that one who came to his house, and beholding the pot,\nobserved an inscription upon it, which being in Latin he interpreted it, that\nunder that there was another twice as good.[FN#380] Of this inscription the\nPedlar was before ignorant, or at least minded it not; but when he heard the\nmeaning of it, he said, ' 'Tis very true, in the shop where I bought this pot\nstood another under it which was twice as big'; but considering that it might\ntend to his further profit to dig deeper in the same place where he found\nthat, he fell again to work and discovered such a pot as was intimated by the\ninscription, full of old coin; notwithstanding all which, he so concealed his\nwealth that the neighbours took no notice of it. But not long after the\ninhabitants of Swaffam resolving to re-edify their church, and having\nconsulted the workmen about the charge, they made a levy, wherein they taxed\nthe Pedlar according to no other rate but what they had formerly done. But he,\nknowing his own ability, came to the church and desired the workmen to show\nhim their model and to tell him what they esteemed the charge of the north\naisle would amount to, which when they told him, he presently undertook to pay\nthem for building it, and not only that, but for a very tall and beautiful\ntower steeple.\n\n\"This is the tradition of the inhabitants, as it was told me there. And in\ntestimony thereof, there was then his picture, with his wife and three\nchildren, in every window of the aisle, with an inscription running through\nthe bottom of all those windows, viz., 'Orate pro bono statu Johannis\nChapman.... Uxoris ejus, et Liberorum quorum, qui quidem Johannes hanc alam\ncum fenestris tecto et . . . fieri fecit.' It was in Henry the Seventh's time,\nbut the year I now remember not, my notes being left with Mr. William\nSedgwicke, who trickt the pictures, he being then with me. In that aisle is\nhis seat, of an antique form, and on each side the entrance, the statue of the\nPedlar of about a foot in length, with pack on his back, very artificially\n[?artistically] cut. This was sent me from Mr. William Dugdale, of Blyth Hall,\nin Warwickshire, in a letter dated Jan. 29th, 1652-3, which I have since\nlearned from others to have been most True.\u02daRoger Twysden.\"\n\nMr. William E. A. Axon, in \"The Antiquary,\" vol. xi. p. 168, gives the same\nversion, with some slight variations, from a work entitled \"New Help to\nDiscourse,\" which he says was often printed between 1619 and 1696: The dream\nwas \"doubled and tripled,\" and the Pedlar stood on the bridge for two or three\ndays; but no mention is made of his finding a second pot of money: \"he found\nan infinite mass of money, with part of which he re-edified the church, having\nhis statue therein to this day, cut out in stone, with his pack on his back\nand his dog at his heels, his memory being preserved by the same form or\npicture in most of the glass windows in taverns and alehouses in that town to\nthis day.\" The story is also told of a cobbler in Somersetshire (in an article\non Dreams, \"Saturday Review,\" Dec. 28, 1878), who dreamt three nights in\nsuccession that if he went to London Bridge he would there meet with something\nto his advantage. For three days he walked over the bridge, when at length a\nstranger came up to him, and asked him why he had been walking from end to end\nof the bridge for these three days, offering nothing for sale nor purchasing\naught. The man having told him of his strange dream, the stranger said that he\ntoo had dreamt of a lot of gold buried in a certain orchard in such a place in\nSomersetshire. Upon this the cobbler returned home and found the pot of gold\nunder an apple-tree. He now sent his son to school, where he learnt Latin, and\nwhen the lad had come home for his holidays, he happened to look at the pot\nthat had contained the gold and seeing some writing on it he said, \"Father, I\ncan show you what I have learnt at school is of some use.\" He then translated\nthe Latin inscription on the pot thus: \"Look under and you will find better \"\nThey did look under and a large quantity of gold was found. Mr. Axon gives a\nversion of the legend in the Yorkshire dialect in \"The Antiquary,\" vol. xii.\npp. 121-2, and there is a similar story connected with the parish church of\nLambeth.[FN#381]\n\nRegarding the Norfolk tradition of the lucky and generous Pedlar, Blomfield\nsays that the north side of the church of Swaffam (or Sopham) was certainly\nbuilt by one John Chapman, who was churchwarden in 1462; but he thinks that\nthe figures of the pedlar, etc., were only put \"to set forth the name of the\nfounder: such rebuses are frequently met with on old works.\" The story is also\ntold in Abraham de la Prynne's Diary under date Nov. 10, 1699, as \"a constant\ntradition\" concerning a pedlar in Soffham.\n\nSuch is the close resemblance between the Turkish version of the Dream and\nthat in the tale of Zayn al-Asnam that I am disposed to consider both as\nhaving been derived from the same source, which, however, could hardly have\nbeen the story told by El-Ish\u00e1ki. In Zayn al-Asnam a shaykh appears to the\nprince in a dream and bids him hie to Egypt, where he will find heaps of\ntreasure; in the Turkish story the shaykh appears to the poor water-carrier\nthree times and bids him go to Damascus for the like purpose. The prince\narrives at Cairo and goes to sleep in a mosque, when the shayka again presents\nhimself before him in a dream and tells him that he has done well in obeying\nhim--he had only made a trial of his courage: \"now return to thy capital and I\nwill make thee wealthy,\"-- in the Turkish story the water-carrier also goes\ninto a mosque at Damascus and receives a loaf of bread there from a baker.\nWhen the prince returns home the shaykh appears to him once more and bids him\ntake a pickaxe and go to such a palace of his sire and dig in such a place,\nwhere he should find riches,--in the Turkish story the water-carrier having\nreturned to his own house, the shaykh comes to him three times more and bids\nhim search near to where he is and he should find wealth. The discovery by\nZayn al-Asnam of his father's hidden treasure, after he had recklessly\nsquandered all his means, bears some analogy to the well-known ballad of the\n\"Heir of Linne,\" who, when reduced to utter poverty, in obedience to his dying\nfather's injunction, should such be his hap, went to hang himself in the\n\"lonely lodge\" and found there concealed a store of gold.\n\nWith regard to the second part of the tale of Zayn al-Asnam--the Quest of the\nNinth Image--and the Turkish version of which my friend Mr. Gibb has kindly\nfurnished us with a translation from the mystical work of 'Al\u00ed 'Az\u00edz Efendi,\nthe Cretan, although no other version has hitherto been found,[FN#382] I have\nlittle doubt that the story is of either Indian or Persian extraction, images\nand pictures being abhorred by orthodox (or sunni) Muslims generally; and such\nalso, I think, should we consider all the Arabian tales of young men becoming\nmadly enamoured of beautiful girls from seeing their portraits--though we can\nreadily believe that an Arab as well as a Persian or Indian youth might fall\nin love with a pretty maid from a mere description of her personal charms, as\nwe are told of the Bedouin coxcomb Amarah in the Romance of Antar. If the\nTurkish version, which recounts the adventures of the Prince Abd es-Samed in\nquest of the lacking image (the tenth, not the ninth, as in the Arabian) was\nadapted from Zayn al-Asnam, the author has made considerable modifications in\nre-telling the fascinating story, and, in my opinion, it is not inferior to\nthe Arabian version. In the Turkish, the Prince's father appears to him in a\nvision of the night,[FN#383] and conducts him to the treasure-vault, where he\nsees the vacant pedestal and on it the paper in which his father directs him\nto go to Cairo and seek counsel of the Shaykh Mubarak, who would instruct him\nhow to obtain the lacking image; and the prince is commissioned by the shaykh\nto bring him a spotless virgin who has never so much as longed for the\npleasures of love, when he should receive the image for his reward. The shaykh\ngives him a mirror which should remain clear when held before such a virgin,\nbut become dimmed when reflecting the features of another sort of girl; also a\npurse which should be always full of money.[FN#384] In the Arabian story the\nShaykh Mubarak accompanies Zayn al-Asnam in his quest of the image to the land\nof Jinnist\u00e1n, the King whereof it is who requires the prince to procure him a\npure virgin and then he would give him the lacking image. In the Turkish\nversion the prince Abd es-Samed proceeds on the adventure alone, and after\nvisiting many places without success he goes to Baghdad, where by means of the\nImam he at last finds the desiderated virgin, whom he conducts to Mubarak. In\nthe Arabian story the Imam, Abu Bakr (Haji Bakr in the Turkish), is at first\ninimical towards the prince and the shaykh but after being propitiated by a\npresent of money he is all complaisance, and, as in the Turkish, introduces\nthe prince to the fallen vaz\u00edr, the father of the spotless virgin. The sudden\nconversion of the Imam from a bitter enemy to an obliging friend is related\nwith much humour: one day denouncing the strangers to the folk assembled in\nthe mosque as cutpurses and brigands, and the next day withdrawing his\nstatement, which he says had been made on the information of one of the\nprince's enviers, and cautioning the people against entertaining aught but\nreverence for the strangers. This amusing episode is omitted in the Turkish\nversion. In one point the tale of Zayn al-Asnam has the advantage of that of\nAbd es-Samed: it is much more natural, or congruous, that the King of the\nGenii should affect to require the chaste maiden and give the prince a magical\nmirror which would test her purity, and that the freed slave Mubarak should\naccompany the prince in his quest.\n\n\n\n\n            Aladdin; Or, the Wonderful Lamp--p. 31.\n\n\n\nThose scholars who declared a number of the tales in Galland's \"Mille et une\nNuits\" to be of his own invention, because they were not found in any of the\nArabic MS. texts of The Nights preserved in European libraries, were\nunconsciously paying that learned and worthy man a very high compliment, since\nthe tales in question are among the best in his work and have ever been, and\nprobably will continue to be, among the most popular favourites. But that fact\nthat Galland seized the first opportunity of intimating that two of those\ntales were not translated or inserted by himself ought to have been alone\namply sufficient presumptive evidence of his good faith with regard to the\nothers.\n\nA friendly reviewer of my \"Popular Tales and Fictions\" etc. states that modern\ncollectors of European M\u00e4rchen, though \"working from 100 to 150 years after\nthe appearance of the 'Thousand and One Nights,' in European literature, have\nnot found the special versions therein contained distributed widely and\nprofusely throughout Europe,\" and that my chapter on Aladdin is proof\nsufficient that they have not done so. The reviewer goes on to say that I cite\n\"numerous variants, but, save one from Rome, variants of the theme, not of the\nversion; some again, such as the Mecklenburg and Danish forms, are more\nprimitive in tone; and all lack those effective and picturesque details which\nare the charm of the Arabian story, and which a borrower only interested in\nthe story as a story might just be expected to retain.''[FN#385]\n\nBut it is not contended that the folk-tales of Europe owe much, if indeed\nanything at all, to the \"Arabian Nights,\" which is not only as it now exists a\ncomparatively modern work--Baron de Sacy has adduced good reasons for placing\nthe date of its composition in the middle of the 9th century of the Hijra, or\nabout 1446 A.D. but was first made known in Europe so late as the first\nquarter of the last century. Several of the tales, and incidents of the tales,\nin the \"Thousand and One Nights\" were current in Europe in the 12th century--\nimported by the Moors of Spain, and by European travellers, pilgrims, and\nminstrels from the East. Thus the Arabian tale of the Ebony (or Enchanted)\nHorse is virtually identical with the Hispano-French romance of Cleomades and\nClaremonde; that of Prince Kamar al Zaman is fairly represented by the romance\nof Peter of Provence and the Fair Maguelone. The episode of Astolphy and\nJoconde in Ariosto's \"Orlando Furioso\" is identical with the opening story of\nThe Nights which constitutes the frame of the collection.[FN#386] The Magnetic\nRock (or rock of adamant) which figures in the adventures of Sindb\u00e1d occurs in\nthe popular German story of \"Herzog Ernst von Baiern,\" which is extant in a\nLatin poem that cannot be later than the 13th century and is probably a\nhundred years earlier.[FN#387] The Valley of Diamonds in the History of\nSindb\u00e1d is described by Marco Polo who travelled in the East in the 13th\ncentury; moreover, it had been known in Europe from the 4th century, when the\nstory connected with it was related by Epiphanius, bishop of Salamis, who lays\nthe scene in Scythia, while Marco Polo and the author of Sindb\u00e1d's Voyages\nboth place it in India, where the fiction probably had its origin\n\nWhen we find a popular (i.e. oral) European tale reproduce the most minute\ndetails of a story found in The Nights, we should conclude that it has been\nderived therefrom and within quite recent times, and such I am now disposed to\nthink is the case of the Roman version of Aladdin given by Miss Busk under the\ntitle of \"How Cajusse was Married,\" notwithstandtng the circumstance that the\nold woman from whom it was obtained was almost wholly illiterate. A child who\ncould read might have told the story out of Galland to his or her nurse,\nthrough whom it would afterwards assume local colour, with some modifications\nof the details. But stories having all the essential features of the tale of\nAladdin were known throughout Europe long before Galland's work was published,\nand in forms strikingly resembling other Asiatic versions, from one of which\nthe Arabian tale must have been adapted. The incidents of the Magician and\nAladdin at the Cave, and the conveying of the Princess and the vaz\u00edr's son\nthree nights in succession to Aladdin's house (which occurs, in modified\nforms, in other tales in The Nights), I consider as the work of the Arabian\nauthor. Stripped of these particulars, the elements of the tale are identical\nin all versions, Eastern and Western: a talisman, by means of which its\npossessor can command unlimited wealth, &c.; its loss and the consequent\ndisappearance of the magnificent palace erected by supernatural agents who are\nsubservient to the owner of the talisman, and finally its recovery together\nwith the restoration of the palace to its original situation. The Arabian tale\nis singular in the circumstance of the talisman (the Lamp) being recovered by\nhuman means--by the devices of the hero himself, in fact, since in all the\nEuropean and the other Asiatic forms of the story it is recovered by, as it\nwas first obtained from, grateful animals. To my mind, this latter is the\npristine form of the tale, and points to a Buddhist origin--mercy to all hying\ncreatures being one of the leading doctrines of pure Buddhism.\n\nThe space at my disposal does not admit of the reproduction in extenso of the\nnumerous versions or variants of Aladdin: a brief outline of their features\nwill however serve my purpose. In the tale of Mar\u00faf the Cobbler, which\nconcludes the B\u00fal\u00e1k and Calcutta printed texts of The Nights, we have an\ninteresting version of Aladdin. The hero runs away from his shrewish wife and\nunder false presences is married to a king's daughter. He confesses his\nimposture to the princess, who loves him dearly, and she urges him to flee\nfrom her father's vengeance and not to return until his death should leave the\nthrone vacant, and having furnished him with money, he secretly quits the city\nat daybreak. After riding some distance, he begins to feel hungry, and seeing\na peasant ploughing a field he goes up to him and asks for some food. The\npeasant sets off to his house for eatables and meanwhile Mar\u00faf begins to\nplough a furrow, when presently the ploughshare strikes against something\nhard, which he finds to be an iron ring. He tugs at the ring and raises a\nslab, which discovers a number of steps, down which he goes and comes into a\ncavern filled with gold and precious stones, and in a box made of a single\ndiamond he finds a talismanic ring, on placing which on his finger a monstrous\nfigure appears and expresses his readiness and ability to obey all his\ncommands. In brief, by means of this genie, the hero obtains immense wealth in\ngold and jewels, and also rich merchandise, which enable him to return to the\ncity in the capacity of a merchant, which he had professed himself when he\nmarried the princess. The vaz\u00edr, who had from the first believed him to be an\narrant impostor, lays a plot with the King to worm out of him the secret of\nhis wealth, and succeeds so well at a private supper, when Mar\u00faf is elevated\nwith wine, that he obtains possession of the ring, summons the genie, and\ncauses him to carry both the King and Mar\u00faf into a far distant desert. He then\ncompels the other ministers and the people to acknowledge him as king, and\nresolves to marry the princess. She temporises with him; invites him to sup\nwith her; plies him with wine, induces him to throw the ring into a corner of\nthe room, pretending to be afraid of the demon who is held captive in it; and\nwhen he has become insensible (in plain English, dead drunk), she seizes the\nring, summons the genie, and commands him to secure the vaz\u00edr and bring back\nher father and husband, which he does \"in less than no time.\" The vaz\u00edr is of\ncourse put to death, and the princess takes charge of the ring for the future,\nalleging that neither the King nor her husband is to be trusted with the\ncustody of such a treasure.\n\nAnother Arabian version is found--as Sir Richard Burton points out, note 1, p.\n119--in \"The Fisherman's Son,\" one of the tales translated by Jonathan Scott\nfrom the Wortley Montague MS. text of The Nights, where the hero finds a magic\nring inside a cock: like Aladdin, he marries the King's daughter and has a\ngrand palace built for him by the genii. The ring is afterwards disposed of to\na Jew, in the same manner as was the Lamp to the Magician, and the palace with\nthe princess is conveyed to a distant desert island. The fisherman's son takes\nto flight. He purchases of a man who offered them for sale a dog, a cat, and a\nrat, which turn out to be well-disposed magicians, and they recover the ring\nfrom the Jew's mouth while he is asleep. The ring is dropped into the sea\naccidentally while the animals are crossing it to rejoin their master, but is\nbrought to the hero by a fish which he had returned to the sea out of pity in\nhis fisherman days. The genie conveys the palace back again, and so on.--In a\nMongolian version (\"Siddh\u00ed K\u00far\") a young merchant parts with all his wares to\nsave a mouse, an ape, and a bear from being tortured to death by boys. One of\nthose creatures procures for him a wishing-stone, by means of which he has a\ngrand palace built and obtains much treasure. He foolishly exchanges his\ntalisman with the chief of a caravan for all their gold and merchandise, and\nit is afterwards restored to him by the grateful and ingenious animals.--In a\nTamil version--referred to by Sir Richard, p. 30, note 2--which occurs in the\n\"Madanak\u00e1mar\u00e1jankadai,\" a poor wandering young prince buys a cat and a\nserpent; at his mother's suggestion, he sets the serpent at liberty and\nreceives from his father a wishing ring. He gets a city built in the jungle--\nor rather where the jungle was--and marries a beautiful princess. An old hag\nis employed by another king to procure him the princess for his wife. She\nwheedles herself into the confidence of the unsuspecting young lady, and\nlearning from her the properties of the ring, induces her to borrow it of her\nhusband for a few minutes, in order that she (the old trot) might apply it to\nher head to cure a severe headache. No sooner has she got possession of the\nring than she disappears, and having delivered it to the other King, he\n\"thought\" of the princess, and in the twinkling of an eye she is carried\nthrough the air and set down before him. The ring is recovered by means of the\ncat which the hero had fostered, and so on.\n\nSir Richard has referred to a number of Italian versions (p. 30, note 2),\nwhich will be found epitomised in a most valuable and interesting paper, by my\nlate friend Mr. H. C. Coote, on the sources of some of M. Galland's Tales, in\nthe First Part of the Folk-Lore Record for 1880, and, in conclusion, I may\nbriefly glance at a few other European variants. Among those which not only\nbear a close analogy one to another but also to the Asiatic versions cited\nabove are the following: No. 15 of M. Leger's French collection of Slav Tales\nis a Bohemian version, in which the hero, Jenik, saves a dog, a cat, and a\nserpent from being killed. From the serpent's father he gets an enchanted\nwatch (evidently a modern substitute for a talismanic stone, or ring), which\nprocures him a splendid palace and the King's daughter for his bride. But the\nyoung lady, unlike the Princess Badr al-Budur with Aladdin, does not love\nJenik, and having learned from him the secret of his great wealth, she steals\nthe talisman and causes a palace to be built in the middle of the sea, where\nshe goes to live, after making Jenik's palace disappear. Jenik's faithful dog\nand cat recover the talisman, which, as in the Arabian story of the\nFisherman's Son, is dropped in the sea while they are swimming back and\nrestored by a fish.--In No. 9 of M. and so \"Comes Albanais\" the hero saves a\nserpent's life and gets in return a wishing-stone and so on. The talisman is\nstolen by a rascally Jew on the night of the wedding, and the palace with the\nprincess is transported to the distant sea-shore. The hero buys a cat and\nfeeds it well. He and his cat arrive at the spot where the palace now stands,\nand the cat compels the chief of a colony of mice to steal the talisman from\nthe Jew while he is asleep.--A popular Greek version in Hahn's collection\ncombines incidents found in Aladdin and in the versions in which grateful\nanimals play prominent parts: The hero rescues a snake which some boys are\nabout to kill and gets in reward from the snake's father a seal-ring, which he\nhas only to lick and a black man will present himself, ready to obey his\norders. As in Aladdin, the first use he makes of the talisman is to have his\nmother's cupboard filled with dainty food. Then he bids his mother \"go to the\nKing, and tell him he must give me his daughter in marriage.\" After many\nobjections, she goes to deliver her message to the King, who replies that if\nher son build a castle larger than his, he shall have the princess to wife.\nThe castle is built that same night, and when the mother goes next morning to\nrequire the King's performance of his promise, he makes a further stipulation\nthat her son should first pave the way between the two castles with gold. This\nis done at once, and the King gives the hero his daughter. Here the\nresemblance to the Aladdin story ceases and what follows (as well as what\nprecedes) is analogous to the other Asiatic forms. The princess has a black\nservant of whom she is enamoured. She steals the ring and elopes with her\nsable paramour to an island in the sea, where she has a castle erected by the\npower of the ring. The black man sleeps with the ring under his tongue, but\nthe hero's dog takes the cat on his back and swims to the island; and the cat\ncontrives to get the ring and deliver it to her master, who straightway causes\nthe castle to be removed from the island, then kills the black man, and\nafterwards lives happily with the princess.--In a Danish version (Prof.\nGrundtvig's \"Danske Folke\u00e4ventyr\") a peasant gets from an aged man a\nwishing-box, and henceforward lives in grand style. After his death the\nsteward and servants cheat his son and heir, so that in ten years he is ruined\nand turned out of house and home. All the property he takes with him is an old\nsheepskin jacket, in which he finds the wishing-box, which had been, unknown\nto him, the cause of his father's prosperity. When the \"slave\" of the box\nappears, the hero merely asks for a fiddle that when played upon makes\neverybody who hears it to dance.[FN#388] He hires himself to the King, whose\ndaughter gives him, in jest, a written promise to marry him, in exchange for\nthe fiddle. The King, when the hero claims the princess, insists on her\nkeeping her promise, and they are married. Then follows the loss of the\nwishing-box, as in the Greek version, only in place of a black man it is a\nhandsome cavalier who is the lady's paramour. The recovery of the box is\naccomplished by very different means, and may be passed over, as belonging to\nanother cycle of tales.[FN#389]\n\nIt is perhaps hardly worth while to make a critical analysis of the tale of\nAladdin, since with all its gross inconsistencies it has such a hold of the\npopular fancy that one would not wish it to be otherwise than it is. But it\nmust have occurred to many readers that the author has blundered in\nrepresenting the Magician as closing the Cave upon Aladdin because he refused\nto give up the Lamp before he had been helped out. As the lad was not aware of\nthe properties of the Lamp, he could have had no object in retaining it for\nhimself, while the Magician in any case was perfectly able to take it by force\nfrom him. And if he wished to do away with Aladdin, yet incur no\n\"blood-guiltiness\" (see ante, p. 52 and note), he might surely have contrived\nto send him down into the Cave again and then close it upon him. As to the\nMagician giving his ring to Aladdin, I can't agree with Sir Richard in\nthinking (p. 48, note 1) that he had mistaken its powers; this seems to me\nquite impossible. The ring was evidently a charm against personal injury as\nwell as a talisman to summon an all-powerful and obedient genie. It was only\nas a charm that the Magician placed it on Aladdin's finger, and, as the\nHindustani Version explains, he had in his rage and vexation forgot about the\nring when he closed the entrance to the Cave. It appears to me also\nincongruous that the Lamp, which Aladdin found burning, should afterwards only\nrequire to be rubbed in order to cause the genie to appear. One should have\nsupposed that the lighting of it would have been more natural or appropriate;\nand it is possible that such was in the original form of the Aladdin version\nbefore it was reduced to writing, since we find something of the kind in a\nMecklenburg version given in Grimm under the title of \"Des blaue Licht.\" A\nsoldier who had long served his King is at last discharged without any pay. In\nthe course of his wanderings he comes to the hut of an old woman, who proves\nto be a witch, and makes him work for her in return for his board and lodging.\nOne day she takes him to the edge of a dry well, and bids him go down and get\nher the Blue Light which he would find at the bottom. He consents, and she\nlets him down by a rope. When he has secured the Light he signals to the old\nwitch to draw him up, and when she has pulled him within her reach, she bids\nhim give her the Light, he refuses to do so until he is quite out of the well,\nupon which she lets him fall to the bottom again. After ruminating his\ncondition for some time he bethinks him of his pipe, which is in his pocket--\nhe may as well have a smoke if he is to perish. So he lights his pipe at the\nBlue Light, when instantly there appears before him a black dwarf, with a hump\non his back and a feather in his cap, who demands to know what he wants, for\nhe must obey the possessor of the Blue Light. The soldier first requires to be\ntaken out of the well, and next the destruction of the old witch, after which\nhe helps himself to the treasures in the hag's cottage, and goes off to the\nnearest town, where he puts up at the best inn and gets himself fine clothes.\nThen he determines to requite the King, who had sent him away penniless, so he\nsummons the Dwarf[FN#390] and orders him to bring the King's daughter to his\nroom that night, which the Dwarf does, and very early in the morning he\ncarries her back to her own chamber in the palace. The princess tells her\nfather that she has had a strange dream of being borne through the air during\nthe night to an old soldier's house. The King says that if it was not a dream,\nshe should make a hole in her pocket and put peas into it, and by their\ndropping out the place where she was taken to could be easily traced. But the\nDwarf when he transports her the second night discovers the trick, and strews\npeas through all the other streets, and the only result was the pigeons had a\nrare feast. Then the King bids the princess hide one of her shoes in the\nsoldier's room, if she is carried there again. A search is made for the shoe\nin every house the next day, and when it is found in the soldier's room he\nruns off, but is soon caught and thrown into prison. In his haste to escape he\nforgot to take the Blue Light with him. He finds only a ducat in his pocket,\nand with this he bribes an old comrade whom he sees passing to go and fetch\nhim a parcel he had left at the inn, and so he gets the Blue Light once more.\nHe summons the Dwarf, who tells him to be of good cheer, for all will yet be\nwell, only he must take the Blue Light with him when his trial comes on. He is\nfound guilty and sentenced to be hung upon the gallows-tree. On his way to\nexecution he asks as a last favour to be allowed to smoke, which being\ngranted, he lights his pipe and the Dwarf appears. \"Send,\" says the soldier--\n\"send all these people to the right about; as for the King, cut him into three\npieces.\" The Dwarf lays about him with a will, and soon makes the crowd\nscuttle off. The King begs hard for his life, and agrees to let the soldier\nhave the princess for his wife and the kingdom afterwards.\n\nThus, it will be seen, popular tales containing all the essential elements of\nthe story of Aladdin are spread over Europe, though hardly any of the versions\nwas probably derived from it; and the conclusion at which I have arrived is\nthat those elements, or incidents have been time out of mind the common\nproperty of European and Asiatic peoples, and that the tale of Aladdin may be\nconsidered as an almost unique version. The Mecklenburg legend is the only\nvariant which has the incident of the Magician requiring the Lamp before\nhelping the hero out of the Cave and that of the transporting of the princess\nfrom her palace to the hero's house during the night, but these are not, I\nthink, sufficient evidence that it was adapted from Galland.\n\nThe royal command that all shops are to be closed and everybody must keep\nwithin doors while the Princess Badr al-Bad\u00far proceeds to the bath and\nAladdin's playing the part of Peeping Tom of Coventry occur in many Eastern\nstories and find a curious analogue in the Adventures of Kurrogl\u00fa, the\ncelebrated robber-poet, as translated by Dr. Alexander Chodzko m his \"Popular\nPoetry of Persia,\" printed for the Oriental Translation Fund, and copies of\nthat work being somewhat scarce, I daresay the story will be new to most of my\nreaders:\n\nListen now to the tale about the Princess Nighara, daughter of the Turkish\nsultan Mur\u00e1d. In the neighbourhood of Constantinople lived a man who was known\nthere under the name of Belli Ahmad. One day the Princess Nighara went out for\na walk through the baz\u00e1rs of Constantinople. At the same time Kurrogl\u00fa's fame\nspread all over Turkey; everybody was telling stories about him, and all were\nstruck with wonder. The Princess Nighara's fond heart particularly was filled\nwith an ardent wish of seeing this extraordinary hero, and she often thought\nin her mind, \"O my God, when will you allow me to behold Kurrogl\u00fa?\" It\nhappened that while Belli Ahmad was taking a walk in the baz\u00e1rs of Istamb\u00fal,\nhe looked and beheld on the platform of the building daroghs beating drums,\nwhilst all the inmates of the baz\u00e1r, the workmen as well as the merchants,\nwere flying in a great hurry after having left their shops ajar. \"Why are they\nthus running;\" inquired Belli Ahmad of a Turk. \"Doss thou know nothing? Then\nlisten: Our king, Sultan Murad, is gone on a pilgrimage to Mecca. His son\nBurji Sultan reigns until his father's return. He has a sister whose name is\nthe Princess Nighara. Every Friday she goes to pray in the great mosque. The\nSultan's will is that during the passage of the princess through the baz\u00e1rs,\nno man should remain there, but that all the shops be left open. This is the\nreason of this panic and flight. As soon as the princess has passed, the\nmerchants and workmen will return to their shops again.\"\n\nBelli Ahmad said in his heart, \"Thy name is Belli Ahmad, and shalt thou not\nsee this beautiful Princess Nighara? If not, thou art unworthy of the name of\nBelli[FN#391] Ahmad \" He then looked to the right and left and entered\nstealthily into a greengrocer's shop enclosed within a few boards. The train\nof the princess now appeared. First passed with their whips farashes and\nyass\u00e1ls, who led the procession and were followed by eunuchs with canes of\noffice (chogan) in their hands. At last appeared the Princess Nighara,\nsurrounded by a score of waiting-women. She walked with a downcast countenance\nin front of them, and bending her head towards the ground said to herself, \"O\nthou earth on which my foot is treading, I beseech thee, receive my\nprayer!\"[FN#392] Belli Ahmad saw and heard her through the chinks of the\nboards behind which he sat concealed When Nighara saw the shop with vegetables\nshe wondered why it should be the only shop enclosed with boards whilst all\nthe other shops were standing open. She then said to her waiting-women, \"What\nis the reason of this? Whilst goldsmiths who possess a capital of a hundred\nthousand tomans have left their shops open, how is it that this petty merchant\nof vegetables, whose poor shop used always to be open, has shut it up to-day?\nThere must be something extraordinary in all this. Break down the enclosure,\nmy girls, and throw the boards aside.\"\n\nBelli Ahmad heard, and his soul was on the point of making its exit. He threw\nhimself with his face downwards as if he was prostrated by a severe illness.\nWhen her orders had been executed Nighara entered the shop. Perceiving a\nfellow stretched out his whole length and embracing the floor with both hands,\nshe kicked him with her foot,[FN#393] exclaiming, \"Who art thou that wallowest\nin the dirt?\" Belli Ahmad sprang to his feet and bowing to the Princess said,\n\"Lady, I am a stranger here. God preserve you from being in a strange land\nanywhere! I saw that the merchants of the bazar were beaten and driven away,\nand I was frightened. But what was I to do? If I should hide myself in some\nrich shop I might be taken for a thief. I have therefore chosen this miserable\nhovel, where nothing can be found except greens, onions, and mouldy biscuits.\nAnd even if there were in it a few copper pieces, the owner at his departure\nmust have taken them away. Pardon me, Princess; my soul was at stake and I hid\nmyself.\"\n\nNighara inquired, \"Stranger, what countryman art thou?\" \"I am a native of\nErzer\u00fam.\" \"Hast thou seen in those parts the Castle of Chamley-bill?\"[FN#394]\n\"Yes, lady, I have seen it.\" \"In that valley lives a man named Kurrogl\u00fa: didst\nthou see him?\" \"O my Princess, I am one of his servants, I am a slave\npurchased with his gold.\" \"Canst thou delver him a letter from me?\" \"And\nwherefore not, fairest? Thou hast only to write and entrust it to me.\" The\nPrincess Nighara immediately wrote a letter to Kurrogl\u00fa with her own hand. And\nwhat did she write? Here it is: \"O thou who art called Kurrogl\u00fa, the glory of\nthy name has thrown a spell over the countries of Turkey. I have heard that\nthou hast carried away Ayvaz from the town of Orfah. My name is Princess\nNighara, Sultan Murad's daughter. I tell thee, that thou mayest learn if thou\ndost not know it, that for a long time I have felt an ardent desire of seeing\nthee. If thou art distinguished by courage, come to Istambul and carry me\naway.\"\n\nAnd the bold Kurrogl\u00fa, when he read the lady's billet, assumed the dress of a\nHaji, gained access to the seraglio gardens on the presence that he was\nentrusted with a private message to the Princess Nighara from her father the\nSultan, whom he had met on the road to Mecca, and carried the amorous young\nlady to his fortress of Chamley-bill.--The story, together with the scene\nbetween the princess and Kurrogl\u00fa in the gardens and the palace, is, no doubt,\na true picture of the \"ways\" of Turkish ladies of high degree in former times,\nand confirms much that Sir Richard has stated regarding Eastern women in his\nnotes to The Nights and his Terminal Essay.\n\n                A VERY DIFFERENT SORT OF ALADDIN\n\nfigures in a story which in the first part bears some analogy to the\ncelebrated Arabian tale, and which occurs in an interesting little work, now\napparently forgotten, entitled \"The Orientalist, or, Letters of a Rabbi (see\nVol. 16, App. 4). With Notes by James Noble, Oriental Master in the Scottish\nNaval and Military Academy,\" Edinburgh, 1831. The substance of the story is as\nfollows (p. 118 ff.):\n\nAn aged Dervish falls ill in the house of a poor widow, who tends him with\ngreat care, with which he is so touched that he offers to take charge of her\nonly son Abdallah. The good woman gladly consents, and the Dervish sets out\naccompanied by his young ward, having intimated to his mother that they must\nperform a journey which would last about two years. One day they arrived at a\nsolitary place, and the Dervish said to Abdallah, \"My son, we are now at the\nend of our journey. I shall employ my prayers to obtain from Allah that the\nearth shall open and make an entrance wide enough to permit thee to descend\ninto a place where thou shalt find one of the greatest treasures that the\nearth contains. Hast thou courage to descend into the subterranean vault?\"\nAbdallah swore he might depend upon his obedience and zeal. Then the Dervish\nlighted a small fire, into which he cast a perfume; he read and prayed for\nsome moments, after which the earth opened, and he said to the young man,\n\"Thou mayest now enter. Remember that it is in thy power to do me a great\nservice, and that this is perhaps the only opportunity thou shalt ever have of\ntestifying to me that thou art not ungrateful. Do not let thyself be dazzled\nby all the riches that thou shalt find there: think only of seizing upon an\niron candlestick with twelve branches, which thou shalt find close to the\ndoor. That is absolutely necessary to me; come up immediately and bring it to\nme.\"\n\nAbdallah descended, and, neglecting the advice of the Dervish, filled his vest\nand sleeves with the gold and jewels which he found heaped up in the vault,\nwhereupon the opening by which he had entered closed of itself. He had,\nhowever, sufficient presence of mind to seize the iron candlestick, and\nendeavoured to find some other means of escape from the vault. At length he\ndiscovers a narrow passage, which he follows until he reaches the surface of\nthe earth, and looking about for the Dervish saw him not, but to his surprise\nfound that he was close to his mother's house. On showing his wealth to his\nmother it all suddenly vanished. But the candlestick remained. He lighted one\nof the branches, upon which a dervish appeared, and after turning round for an\nhour, he threw down an asper (about 3 farthings) and vanished. Next night he\nput a light in each of the branches, when twelve dervishes appeared, and after\ncontinuing their gyrations an hour, each threw down an asper and vanished.\n\nThus Abdallah and his mother contrived to live for a time, till at length he\nresolved to carry the candlestick to the Dervish, hoping to obtain from him\nthe treasure which he had seen in the vault. He remembered his name and city,\nand on reaching his dwelling he found the Dervish living in a magnificent\npalace with fifty porters at the gate. Quoth the Dervish, when Abdallah\nappeared before him, \"Thou art an ungrateful wretch! Hadst thou known the\nvalue of the candlestick, thou wouldst never have brought it to me. I will\nshow thee its true use.\" Then the Dervish placed a light in each branch,\nwhereupon twelve dervishes appeared and began to whirl, but on his giving each\na blow with a cane in an instant they were changed into twelve heaps of\nsequins, diamonds and other precious stones.\n\nUngrateful as Abdallah had shown himself, yet the Dervish gave him two camels\nladen with gold and a slave, telling him he must depart the next morning.\nDuring the night Abdallah stole the candlestick and placed it at the bottom of\none of his sacks. In the morning he took his leave of the generous Dervish and\nset off. When about half a day's journey from his own city he sold the slave,\nthat there should be no witness to his former poverty and bought another in\nhis stead. Arriving home, he carefully placed his loads of treasure in a\nprivate chamber, and then put a light in each branch of the candlestick, and\nwhen the twelve dervishes appeared, as usual, he dealt each a blow with a\ncane. But he had not observed that the Dervish employed his left hand, and he\nhad naturally used his right in consequence of which the twelve dervishes each\ndrew from under their robes a heavy club and beat him till he was nearly dead,\nand then vanished, as did also the treasure, the camels, the slave, and the\nwonder-working candlestick.\n\nIt is to be regretted that the author has not stated the sources whence he\ndrew his stories, but that they are without exception of Eastern extraction\ndoes not admit of any doubt: some are taken from the \"Panchatantra,\"\n\"Hitopadesa,\" or \"Anv\u00e1r-i-Suhayl\u00ed,\" and others are found in other Asiatic\nstory-books. I have however not met with the foregoing elsewhere than in\nNoble's little volume. The beginning of the story is near akin to that of\nAladdin: for the wicked magician who pretends to take the tailor's son under\nhis care we have a dervish who in good faith takes charge of the son of a poor\nwidow who had nursed him through a severe illness. The cave scene is very\nsimilar in both, only the magician performs diabolical incantations, while the\ndervish practices \"white magic\" and prays to Allah for assistance. The\ntwelve-branched candlestick takes the place of the Wonderful Lamp. Like\nAladdin, young Abdallah is shut in the cavern, though not because he refused\nto give up the candlestick until he was safe above ground again, but because\nhis cupidity induced him to pocket some of the treasures which filled the\ncave.\n\nThere is a strong Indian--even Buddhistic--flavour in the story of Abdallah\nand the Dervish, and the apparition of the twelve whirling fakirs, who when\nstruck with a cane held in the left hand fall into so many heaps of gold coin,\nhas its analogue in the \"Hitopadesa\" and also in the Persian Tales of a Parrot\n(\"T\u00fat\u00ed N\u00e1ma\"). The 10th Fable of Book iii. of the \"Hitopadesa' goes thus: In\nthe city of Ayodhya (Oude) there was a soldier named Churamani, who, being\nanxious for money, for a long time with pain of body worshipped the deity the\njewel of whose diadem is the lunar crescent.[FN#395] Being at length purified\nfrom his sins, in his sleep he had a vision in which, through the favour of\nthe deity, he was directed by the lord of the Yakshas[FN#396] to do as\nfollows: 'Early in the morning, having been shaved, thou must stand, club in\nhand, concealed behind the door of thy house; and the beggar whom thou seest\ncome into the court thou wilt put to death without mercy by blows of thy\nstaff. Instantly the beggar will become a pot full of gold, by which thou wilt\nbe comfortable the rest of thy life.\" These instructions being followed, it\ncame to pass accordingly. But the barber who had been brought to shave him,\nhaving witnessed it all, said to himself, \"O, is this the mode of gaining\ntreasure? Why, then, may not I also do the same?\" From that day forward the\nbarber in like manner, with club in hand, day after day awaited the coming of\nthe beggar. One day a beggar being so caught was attacked by him and killed\nwith the stick, for which offence the barber himself was beaten by the King's\nofficers and died.\n\nThe same story is differently told, at greater length and with considerable\nhumour, in Nakhshab\u00ed's Parrot-Book, but the outline of it only can be given\nhere: A rich merchant named Abd-el-Malik resolved to give all his substance to\nthe poor and needy before he departed this life. At midnight an apparition\nstood before him in the habit of a fak\u00edr and thus addressed him: \"I am the\napparition of thy good fortune and the genius of thy future happiness.[FN#397]\nWhen thou, with such unbounded generosity, didst bequeath all thy wealth to\nthe poor, I determined not to pass by thy door unnoticed, but to enrich thee\nwith an inexhaustible treasure, suitable to the greatness of thy capacious\nsoul. To accomplish which I will every morning in this shape appear to thee;\nthou shalt strike me a few blows on the head, and I shall instantly fall at\nthy feet, transformed into an image of gold. From this take as much as thou\nshalt have occasion for; and every member that shall be separated from the\nimage shall instantly be replaced by another of the same precious\nmetal.\"[FN#398] In the morning a covetous neighbour named Hajm visited the\nmerchant, and soon after the apparition presented itself. Abd-el-Malik at once\narose and after striking it several blows on the head with a stick, it fell\ndown and was changed into an image of gold. He took what sufficed for the\nday's needs and gave the larger portion to his visitor. When Hajm the covetous\nreturned to his own house he pondered what he had seen, and concluding it\nwould be as easy for him to convert fak\u00edrs into gold, invited to a feast at\nhis house all the fak\u00edrs of the province. When they had feasted to their\nhearts' content, Hajm seized a heavy club and began to unmercifully belabour\nhis guests till he broke their heads and \"the crimson torrent stained the\ncarpet of hospitality.\" The cries of the fak\u00edrs soon brought the police to\ntheir assistance, and a great crowd of people gathered outside the house. Hajm\nwas immediately haled before the magistrate, and attempted to justify his\nconduct by giving an account of what he had seen done in the house of\nAbd-el-Malik. The merchant was sent for and declared Hajm to be mad, no better\nproof of which could be desired than his treatment of the fak\u00edrs. So Hajm the\ncovetous was sent forthwith to the hospital for lunatics.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n               Khudadad and His Brothers--p. 145.\n\n\n\nReaders of The Nights must have observed that a large number of the tales\nbegin with an account of a certain powerful king, whose dominions were almost\nboundless, whose treasury overflowed, and whose reign was a blessing to his\npeople; but he had one all-absorbing care--he had no son. Thus in the tale of\nKhudadad we read that in the city of Harr\u00e1n there dwelt a sultan \"of\nillustrious lineage, a protector of the people, a lover of his lieges, a\nfriend of mankind, and renowned for being gifted with every good quality.\nAllah Almighty had bestowed upon him all that his heart could desire, save the\nboon of a child, for though he had lovely wives within his harem-door and\nconcubines galore [far too many, no doubt!], he had not been blessed with a\nson,\" and so forth. This is the \"regulation\" opening of by far the greater\nnumber of Asiatic stories, even as it was de rigueur for the old pagan Arab\npoets to begin their kas\u00eddas with a lamentation for the departure of a fair\none, whether real or imaginary. The Sultan of our story is constantly\npetitioning Heaven for the boon of a son (who among Easterns is considered as\nthe \"light of the house\"), and at length there appears to him in his slumbers\na comely man who bids him go on the morrow to his chief gardener and get from\nhim a pomegranate, of which he should eat as many seeds as he pleases, after\nwhich his prayers for offspring should be granted. This remedy for barrenness\nis very common in Indian fictions (to which I believe Khudadad belongs), only\nit is usually the king's wives who eat the seeds or fruit.[FN#399] A few\nparallels to the opening of our tale from Indian sources may prove somewhat\ninteresting, both to students of popular fictions and to those individuals who\nare vaguely styled \"general readers.\"\n\nA Kashmiri tale, entitled \"The Four Princes,\" translated by the Rev. J. Hinton\nKnowles, in the \"Indian Antiquary,\" 1886,[FN#400] thus begins: In days long\nsince gone by there lived a king most clever, most holy, and most wise, who\nwas a pattern king. His mind was always occupied with plans for the\nimprovement of his country and people; his darb\u00e1r was open to all; his ear was\never ready to listen to the petition of the humblest subject, he afforded\nevery facility for trade; he established hospitals for the sick, inns (sar\u00e1'e)\nfor travellers, and large schools for those who wished to learn. These and\nmany other such things he did. Nothing was left undone that ought to be done,\nand nothing was done that ought not to have been done. Under such a wise,\njust, and beneficent ruler the people of course lived very happily. Few poor\nor unenlightened or wicked persons were to be found in the country. But the\ngreat and good king had not a son. This was an intense sorrow to him--the one\ndark cloud that now and again overshadowed his otherwise happy and glorious\nlife. Every day he prayed earnestly to Siva to grant him an heir to sit upon\nthe throne after him. One day Siva appeared to him in the garb of a\nyogi,[FN#401] and bade him ask a boon and it should be granted. \"Take these\nfour fruits,\" said Siva, \"and give them to your wife to eat on such a day\nbefore sunrise. Then shall your wife give birth to four sons who will be\nexceedingly clever and good.\" The king follows these instructions and in due\ncourse his wife is delivered of four sons at one birth and thereupon dies. The\nrest of the story is a variant of the Tamil romance \"Alak\u2044sa Kath\u00e0,''[FN#402]\nand of \"Strike, but hear!\" in Rev. Lal Behari Day's \"Folk-Tales of Bengal.\"\n\nThis is how the Tamil story of The Four Good Sisters begins (\"Folk-Lore in\nSouthern India,\" Part iii., by Pandit S. M. Nat\u2044sa S\u00e1stri[FN#403]): In the\ntown of Ta\u00b1jai there reigned a king named Hariji, who was a very good and\ncharitable sovereign. In his reign the tiger and the bull drank out of the\nsame pool, the serpent and the peacock amused themselves under the same tree;\nand thus even birds and beasts of a quarrelsome and inimical disposition lived\ntogether like sheep of the same flock. While the brute creation of the great\nGod was thus living in friendship and happiness, need it be said that this\nking's subjects led a life of peace and prosperity unknown in any other\ncountry under the canopy of heaven? But for all the peace which his subjects\nenjoyed, Hariji himself had no joy: his face was always drooping, his lips\nnever moved in laughter, and he was as sad as sad could be because he had no\nson.--After trying in vain the distribution of charitable gifts which his\nministers and the priests recommended, the king resolves to retire into the\nwilderness and there endeavour to propitiate Mah\u2044svara [i.e. Siva], hoping\nthus to have his desire fulfilled. He appoints his ministers to order the\nrealm during his absence, and doffing his royal robes clothes himself in the\nbark of trees and takes up his abode in the desert. After practising the most\nsevere austerities for the space of three years, Siva, mounted on his bull,\nwith his spouse P\u00e1rvat\u00ed by his side, appears before the hermit, who is\noverjoyed at the sight of the deity. Siva bids him ask any boon and it should\nbe granted. The royal ascetic desires to have a son. Then says Siva: \"For thy\nlong penance we grant thy request. Choose then--a son who shall always be with\nthee till death, but shall be the greatest fool in the whole world, or four\ndaughters who shall live with thee for a short time, then leave thee and\nreturn before thy death, but who shall be the incarnation of learning. To thee\nis left to choose which thou wilt have,\" and so saying, the deity gives him a\nmango fruit for his wife to eat, and then disappears. The king elects to have\nthe four learned daughters, whose history is very entertaining.\n\nAnother tale in the Pandit's collection (No. 4) informs us that once upon a\ntime in a town named Va\u00b1jaim\u00e1nagar there ruled a king named Siv\u00e1char. He was a\nmost just king and ruled so well that no stone thrown up fell down, no crow\npecked at the new-drawn milk, the lion and the bull drank water from the same\npond, and peace and prosperity reigned throughout the kingdom. Notwithstanding\nall these blessings, care always sat on his face. His days and nights he spent\nin praying that God might bless him with a son. Wherever he saw p\u00edpal trees he\nordered Brahmans to circumambulate them.[FN#404] Whatever medicines the\ndoctors recommended he was ever ready to swallow, however bitter they might\nbe. At last fortune favoured Siv\u00e1ch\u00e1r; for what religious man fails to obtain\nhis desire? The king in his sixtieth year had a son, and his joy knew no\nbounds.\n\nIn like fashion does the Persian \"Sindib\u00e1d N\u00e1ma\" begin: There reigned in India\na sage and mighty monarch, the bricks of whose palace were not of stone or\nmarble but of gold; the fuel of whose kitchen was fresh wood of aloes; who had\nbrought under the signet of his authority the kingdoms of R\u00fam and Abyssinia;\nand to whom were alike tributary the Ethiop Mahar\u00e1j and the Roman Kaysar. He\nwas distinguished above all monarchs for his virtue clemency, and justice. But\nalthough he was the refuge of the Khal\u00edfate, he was not blessed with an heir:\nlife and the world appeared profitless to him, because he had no fruit of the\nheart in the garden of his soul. One night, while reclining on his couch, sad\nand thoughtful, consumed with grief like a morning taper, he heaved a deep\nsigh upon which one of his favourite wives (he had a hundred in his harem),\nadvancing towards him and kissing the ground, inquired the cause of his\ndistress. He discloses it. His wife consoles him, encourages him to hope, and\nassures him that if he prayed, his prayers would be answered, but that at all\nevents it was his duty to be resigned to the will of God. \"Prayer is the only\nkey that will open the door of difficulty.\" The king fasted for a whole week\nand was assiduous in his devotions. One night he prayed with peculiar\nearnestness and self-abasement till morning. The companion of his couch was\none of his wives, fairer than the sun and the envy of a pert. He clasped her\nin his embrace, exclaiming, \"There is no strength, no power, save in God!\" and\nhe felt assured in his heart that his prayer was granted. In due time a son\nwas born to him, and, eager to show his gratitude, he bestowed munificent\ngifts and lavished his treasures on all his subjects.\n\nThe seventh of Lal Behari Day's \"Folk-Tales of Bengal\" opens as follows: Once\non a time there reigned a king who had seven queens. He was very sad, for the\nseven queens were all barren. A holy mendicant, however, one day told the king\nthat in a certain forest there grew a tree, on a branch of which hung seven\nmangoes; if the king himself plucked those mangoes and gave one to each of the\nqueens they would all become mothers. So the king went to the forest, plucked\nthe seven mangoes that grew upon one branch, and gave a mango to each of the\nqueens to eat. In a short time the king's heart was filled with joy as he\nheard that the seven queens were pregnant.--In Miss Stokes' \"Indian Fairy\nTales,' p. 91, R\u00e1j\u00e1 Barb\u00e1l receives from an ascetic 160 lich\u00ed fruits, one of\nwhich he is to give to each of his 160 wives, who would have each a son.--\nSimilar instances occur in Steel and Temple's \"Wide Awake Stories,\" from the\nPanj\u00e1b and Kashm\u00edr, pp. 47 and 290, and in Nat\u2044sa S\u00e1str\u00ed's \"Dravidian Nights'\nEntertainments\" (a translation of the Tamil romance entitled\n\"Madanak\u00e1mar\u00e1jankadai\"), pp. 55, 56.--Among biblical instances of women having\noffspring after being long barren are: Sarah, the wife of Abraham (Gen. ch.\nxv. 2 4, xxi. 1, 2); Rachel, the wife of Jacob (Gen. ch. xxx., 1, 22, 23); and\nElisabeth, the wife of Zacharias, the high-priest, who were the parents of\nJohn the Baptist (Luke, ch. i.). Whether children be a \"blessing,\"\nnotwithstanding all that has been said and sung about the exquisite joys of\npaternity and maternity, is perhaps doubtful, generally speaking: one thing is\ncertain, that many an honest fellow has had too much cause to \"wonder why the\ndevil he got an heir!\"[FN#405]\n\nAlthough no version or variant of the story of Khudadad and his Brothers has\nyet been found besides the one in the Turkish collection \"Al-Far\u00e1j ba'd\nal-Shiddah,\" yet the elements of which it is composed occur in many European\nand Asiatic tales. As we have in Galland a story of sisters who envied their\ncadette, so, by way of justice to the \"fair sex,\" we have likewise this tale\nof envious brothers, which is a favourite theme of popular fictions, only in\nthe story of Khudadad, the brothers were not at first aware of the hero's\nkinship to them, though they had been informed of it when they most\nungratefully cut and slashed him with their swords as he lay asleep by the\nside of his beauteous bride the Princess of Daryab\u00e1r.\n\nSometimes it is not a brother, or brothers, but a treacherous friend or a\nsecret, cowardly rival, who attempts the life of the hero and claims the\ncredit and reward for his bold achievement. Many examples must occur to\nreaders familiar with Icelandic, Norwegian, and German folk-tales which need\nnot here be cited. In the old French romance of the Chevalier Berinus and his\ngallant son Aigres de l'Aimant, the King of Loquiferne is in love with the\nPrincess Melia, daughter of a king named Absalon, who would give her only to\nthe prince who should bring with him two knights prepared to combat with and\nslay two fierce lions, or would attempt this feat himself. None of the barons\nof the King of Loquiferne offering themselves for the adventure, Aigres\nundertakes it very readily, and is accompanied by a knight named A\u00e7ars, who\nhas charge of a casket of jewels destined for the princess as a wedding-gift.\nYoung Aigres encounters and kills the lions singlehanded, and the lily-livered\nand faithless A\u00e7ars envies him the glory of his exploit. On their way back to\nLoquiferne with the Princess Melia, as they pass near a deep well A\u00e7ars\npurposely allows the casket of jewels to fall into it and pretends to be\ndistracted at the misfortune. But the gallant Aigres securing one end of his\nhorse's reins to the top of the well descends by this improvised rope, and\nwhen he dives into the water to recover the casket the rascal A\u00e7ars cuts the\nreins and compels the princess and her maid to follow him. His triumph is\nbrief, however, for Melia and her maid are taken from him, without his\nstriking a blow in their defence, by a king who is in love with the princess.\nA\u00e7ars proceeds to the court of the King of Loquiferne and tells him how the\nlady had been snatched out of his hands by a king who attacked him with a\ngreat army while Aigres had fled like a craven. Meanwhile Aigres contrives to\nget out of the well, and finds his steed and armour close by: he is fortunate\nin rescuing the princess and her maid from the king who had taken them from\nA\u00e7ars, and arriving at the court of Loquiferne denounces A\u00e7ars as a coward and\ntraitor, and the princess Melia confirms his assertions; so the carpet-knight\nis for ever disgraced.\n\nAnother example not very generally known is found in the Urd\u00fa romance, \"Gul-\u00ed\nBak\u00e1wal\u00ed:\" When the hero, Taj al-Mal\u00fak, the youngest son of King Zayn\nal-Mal\u00fak, is born, the astrologers cast his horoscope and predict that the\nking will lose his sight as soon as he looks upon him. In order to prevent\nsuch a calamity, the king causes the child and his mother to be placed in a\nhouse far distant from the city, where Zayn al-Mal\u00fak grows up into a handsome,\ncourageous youth. By chance he meets his father, the king, while the latter is\nhunting, and the king no sooner casts his eyes on the youth than he becomes\nblind. The royal physicians tell him that only the Rose of Bak\u00e1wal\u00ed can\nrestore his sight, and the four other sons of the king set out together to\nprocure this wonderful flower. They fall victims to the wiles of a courtesan,\nwho wins all their money at play and ultimately imprisons them in her house.\nIn the meantime Taj al-Mal\u00fak has started on the same errand; he outwits the\ncourtesan, obtains the liberation of his brothers, and then journeys to\nJinnist\u00e1n, where, by the help of a friendly demon, he plucks the Rose in the\ngarden of the beauteous fairy Bak\u00e1wal\u00ed, and retraces his way homeward. Meeting\nwith his four brothers on the road, he acquaints them of his success, and on\ntheir doubting the virtue of the flower, it is applied to the eyes of a blind\nman, and his sight is instantly restored. Upon this the brothers take the\nflower from Taj al-Mal\u00fak by force and hasten with it to their father. But the\nhero's friends the demons build for him a splendid palace, and the fame of his\nwealth soon reaches the court of his father, who, with the four brothers and\nthe ministers of state, visits him, and after a great feast Taj al-Mal\u00fak makes\nhimself known to the king and relates the whole story of how he procured the\nflower that had restored his sight. The king falls upon his son's neck and\nweeps tears of joy, saying, \"You have restored the light of my eyes by the\nRose of Bak\u00e1wal\u00ed, and by the sight of you the door of cheerfulness has been\nopened in my sorrowful heart. It is incumbent on me to make known this\nenlivening news to your mother, who has looked out for you with anxiety and I\nmust cause her, who has been afflicted with grief at your absence, to drink\nthe sherbet of the glad tidings of your safety.\" Then the king went to Taj\nal-Mal\u00fak's mother, made many apologies for his ill treatment of her, exalted\nher higher than she was previously, and gave her the joyful news of her son's\narrival. The remainder of the romance recounts the marvellous adventures of\nthe hero in fairyland, whither he proceeds to rejoin Bak\u00e1wal\u00ed, and where he\nundergoes many strange transformations; but ultimately all is \"merry as\nmarriage beds.\"--Nothing is said about the punishment or pardon of the\ntreacherous brothers, but doubtless in the original form of the story the hero\nacted as generously towards them as did Khudadad when his father would have\nput the forty brothers to death. It seems somewhat strange that after\nKhudadad's brothers had killed him (as they believed) they did not take the\nPrincess Daryab\u00e1r away with them, which generally happens in stories of this\nkind.\n\n\n\n\n       The Story of the Blind Man, Baba Abdullah--p. 178.\n\n\n\nAn incident in the Muhammedan version of the legend of the Seven Sleepers may\nhave furnished a hint for this well-told tale. When the evil-minded Dekianus\nviews the Hid Treasure, which he had covenanted with the aged man who read the\nTablet for him and conducted him to the spot should be equitably divided\nbetwixt them--when he had beheld with wonder and astonishment the incalculable\nriches contained in the seven chambers, he says within himself, \"And must I\nshare this with the old man?\" Then he ponders and thinks, \"Nay, but I will\ngive him a goodly portion ;\" but finally he resolves to give him nothing--nay\nmore, to take away his life so that there should be none on earth besides\nhimself acquainted with the source of his wealth. In vain does the old man bid\nhim take all the treasure and swear that he will ever preserve the secret:\nDekianus smote him with his sword so that he died.\n\nThere is a tale in the Persian story-book \"Shamsah wa Kahkahah\" (also entitled\n\"Mahb\u00fab al-Kal\u00fab\") which bears some analogy to the story of the Blind Man,\nBaba Abdullah. A skilful geomancer is desired by a tradesman to cast his\nhoroscope. He does so, and informs the tradesman that he is to find a\ntreasure. The man is incredulous, but after the operation is repeated with the\nsame result at length becomes convinced of the accuracy of the geomancer's\ncalculations, locks his door, and forthwith they both begin to dig the floor.\nThey come upon a large stone which on removal is found to have covered a well.\nThe geomancer lowers the tradesman down it in a basket, which the latter fills\nwith gold and silver and precious stones, and it is drawn up by the geomancer.\nWhen this has been repeated several times and the geomancer views the immense\nquantity of glittering treasure heaped up beside him, covetous thoughts enter\nhis mind, and he determines to leave the tradesman to his fate at the bottom\nof the well, take all the wealth for himself, and live in comfort and luxury\nthe rest of his days. Accordingly he does not again let the basket down, and\nthe poor tradesman, suspecting his iniquitous design, calls out piteously to\nhis perfidious friend, imploring him not to leave him there to perish, and\nswearing that the treasure should be equally shared as between brothers. But\nthe covetous geomancer is deaf to his appeal, and begins to consider how the\ntreasure might be conveyed to his own house without attracting the notice of\nany of the folk of the quarter, and in the midst of his cogitatious he falls\nasleep. Now it happened that the poor tradesman had an enemy who had long\nwaited for an opportunity to do him a personal injury, and that very night he\ncame to the house, and by means of a rope with a hook which he fastened to the\nwall he climbed on to the roof and descended into the place where the\ngeomancer was sleeping. The man, mistaking him for the tradesman, seized the\ngeomancer and with a sharp awl pierced his eyes, blinding him for ever. But,\nhaving thus effected his revenge as he thought, in groping his way out of the\nhouse he stumbled into the well and broke his foot. The tradesman, taking him\nfor the geomancer, come for more gold, upbraided him for his insatiable\navarice, and the man, in his turn, supposing him to have been thrown into the\nwell by the tradesman, replied, \"Be satisfied; I have punished him who cast\nyou into this place,\" but as he began to howl from the pain of his broken\nfoot, the tradesman knew that he was not the geomancer. Next morning the\ntradesman's son arrives from a long trading journey, with much gold and\nmerchandise and many slaves. On entering his father's house he is astounded to\nperceive the open well and by the side of it a vast heap of treasure and a man\nholding both hands to his eyes and wailing bitterly, lamenting the\ncovetousness which had caused him the loss of his eyesight. The young man\nsends a slave down into the well and the first person drawn up is the\ntradesman, who is both surprised and overjoyed to behold his son once more,\nand tells him the whole story. His enemy is then taken out and is dismayed to\nfind that he has blinded the wrong man. Both the geomancer and the tradesman's\nenemy are pardoned, but the latter dies soon after, while the geomancer\nretires to a cave in the mountains, where every morning and evening two small\nloaves are thrown in to him by an unknown hand, and during the rest of his\nlife he never ceased to repeat this distich:\n\n          If you possess one barley grain of justice,\n          You will never have half a grain of sorrow.\n\nBut much more closely resembling the story of Baba Adbullah is a tale in the\nPersian romance which recounts the imaginary adventures of Hatim Ta'\u00ed. A blind\nman is confined in a cage which is suspended from a branch of a tree, and\nconstantly exclaims, \"Do evil to none; if you do, evil will overtake you.\"\nHatim having promised to mend his condition and relieve him, he relates his\nhistory as follows:\n\n\"I am by occupation a merchant, and my name is Ham\u00edr. When I became of age my\nfather had finished the building of this city, and he called the same after my\nname. Shortly after, my father departed on a sea-voyage, and left me in charge\nof the city. I was a free hearted and social young man, and so in a short time\nexpended all the property left under my care by my father. Thus I became\nsurrounded with poverty and want, and as I knew that my father had hidden\ntreasures somewhere in the house, I resolved to discover them if possible. I\nsearched everywhere, but found nothing, and, to complete my woe, I received\nthe news of my father's death, the ship in which he sailed being wrecked.\n\n\"One day as I was sauntering, mournful and dejected, through the baz\u00e1r, I\nespied a learned man who cried out, 'If any one has lost his money by theft or\notherwise, my knowledge of the occult sciences enables me to recover the same,\nbut on condition that I receive one fourth of the amount.' When I heard this\nseasonable proclamation, I immediately approached the man of science, and\nstated to him my sad condition and how I had been reduced from affluence to\npoverty. The sage undertook to restore my wealth, and above all to discover\nthe treasures concealed in my father's house. I conducted him to the house and\nshowed him every apartment, which he carefully examined one after another. At\nlength by his art he discovered the stores we were in search of; and when I\nsaw the gold and silver and other valuables, which exceeded calculation, the\ndemon of fraud entered my heart, and I refused to fulfil my promise of giving\na fourth of the property to the man of wisdom. I offered him only a few small\npieces of silver; instead of accepting which, he stood for a few moments in\nsilent meditation, and with a look of scorn said, 'Do I thus receive the\nfourth part of your treasure which you agreed to give me? Base man, of what\nperjury are you guilty?' On hearing this I became enraged, and having struck\nhim several blows on the face, I expelled him from my house. In a few days\nhowever he returned. and so far ingratiated himself into my confidence that we\nbecame intimate friends; and night and day he displayed before my sight the\nvarious hidden treasures contained within the bowels of the earth. One day I\nasked him to instruct me in this wonderful science, to which he answered that\nno instruction was requisite. 'Here,' said he, 'is a composition of surma and\nwhoever applies the same to his eyes, to him will all the wealth of this world\nbecome visible.'[FN#406] 'Most learned sir,' I replied, 'if you will anoint\nmine eyes with this substance I promise to share with you the half of all such\ntreasures as I may discover.' 'I agree,' said my friend; 'meanwhile let us\nretire to the desert, where we shall be free from interruption.'\n\n\"We immediately set out, and when we arrived there I was surprised at seeing\nthis cage and asked my companion whose it was. I received for answer, that it\nbelonged to no one. In short, we both sat down at the foot of this tree, and\nthe sage, having produced the surma from his pocket, began to apply it to my\neyes. But, alas! no sooner had he applied this composition than I became\ntotally deprived of sight. In a voice of sorrow I asked him why he had thus\ntreated me, and he replied, 'Such is the reward of treachery; and if you wish\nto recover your sight, you must for some time undergo penance in this cage.\nYou must utter no complaint and you shall exclaim from time to time, 'Do no\nevil to any one; if you do, evil will befall you.' I entreated the sage to\nrelieve me, saying, 'You are a mere mortal like myself, and dare you thus\ntorment a fellow-creature? How will you account for your deeds to the Supreme\nJudge?' He answered, 'This is the reward of your treachery.' Seeing him\ninexorable, I begged of him to inform me when and how my sight was to be\nrestored, and he told me, that a noble youth should one day visit me, and to\nhim I was to make known my condition, and farther state, that in the desert of\nHimyar there is a certain herb called the Flower of Light, which the youth was\nto procure and apply to my eyes, by means of which my sight should be\nrestored.\"\n\nWhen the man in the cage had ended his story, the magnanimous Hatim bade him\nbe of good cheer, for he would at once endeavour to relieve him. By the aid of\nthe fairies, who carry him through the air for the space of seven days, he\narrives in the desert where the Flowers of Light shine brilliant as lamps on a\nfestival night, diffusing the sweetest perfume far and wide; and recking\nnaught for the serpents, scorpions, and beasts of prey which infested the\nplace (for he had a talisman that protected him), he advances and plucks three\nof the largest and most brilliant flowers. Returning in the same manner as he\nhad gone thither, he reaches the spot where the blind man Hamir is imprisoned;\ntaking down the cage, he releases the wretched man, compresses the stalk of\nthe flower so that the juice drops upon his sightless eyeballs, and when this\nhas been repeated three times Hamir opens his eyes, and seeing Hatim falls\nprostrate at his feet with a profusion of thanks.\n\nAlthough there are some differences in the details of the story of Baba\nAbdullah and that of Hamir, as above, yet the general similarity between them\nis sufficient to warrant the conclusion that if one was not adapted from the\nother, both must have been derived from the same source; and here we have, I\nthink, clear evidence of the genuineness of another of the tales which Galland\nwas believed to have invented himself.\n\n\n\n\n                History of Sidi Nu'man--p. 187.\n\n\n\nIt is curious to find this current as a folk-tale at Palena, in the Abruzzi,\nwithout any material variation except in the conclusion. My friend, Mr. E.\nSidney Hartland, has favoured me with the following abstract of the Italian\nversion, as given in vol. iii. of the \"Archivio per lo studio delle Tradizioni\nPopolari\" (Palermo, 1882), p. 222:\n\nThere was once a husband and wife. The wife says that she cannot eat anything,\nand only picks a few grains of rice with a large pin. Her husband asks why she\neats nothing, and she answers that she does not want to eat. Meantime she goes\nout secretly every night, and the husband begins to have suspicions of her.\nOne night he follows her softly and finds she goes to the burial ground, where\nshe meets with certain female companions. They open a grave and feed on the\nflesh of the dead. The next morning the husband cooks rice again, and the wife\npicks up a few grains of it with a pin as before. The husband exclaims, \"What!\nyou enjoy the flesh of dead men, and over rice you are so finical as to eat it\nwith a pin!\" The wife is so enraged at learning that her husband knows of her\ndoings that she goes to the water-bucket, fills a small bottle from it, and\nhaving muttered certain words over the water flings it upon him and he\ninstantly becomes transformed into a dog. A provision merchant sees him\nrunning about, and takes and sets him on his counter. When the people come to\nbuy provisions the dog examines the money to see if it be good, and the false\ncoin he throws on the ground. One day a man comes to buy bacon and offers\nfalse coin. The provision merchant refuses to take it; they dispute over the\nmatter, and it is referred to the dog, who throws the money on the ground. The\nman is astonished, and returning home tells his wife, who at once says that\nthe dog is not a dog, and desires her husband to bring her the animal that she\nmay see it. The man returns to the provision merchant and begs him to lend him\nthe dog for a little while, and takes it home. The wife, who is a companion of\nthe wife of him who has been changed into a dog, and understands witchcraft,\nfills a bottle with water, pronounces certain words over it, and throws the\nwater upon the dog, who immediately becomes a man again, and she advises him\nto do to his wife as she had done to him, and imparts the secret to him. As\nsoon as he returns home he fills the bottle with water from the bucket, says\nthe words he had learned, and throws the water over his wife, who becomes a\nmare. He drives her out of the house and beats her as flax is beaten. To every\none who asks why he is thrashing the mare he tells his story, and the people\nsay, \"Serve her right!\" This goes on for some time. At last, when the husband\nsees that his wife has voided enough foam from the mouth, with another dash of\nwater he changes her back to her proper form, and henceforward she eats\nwhatever is set before her, obeys her husband in all things, and never goes\nout by night again. So they live long, happy and contented.\n\nThis version from the Abruzzi so closely resembles the story of Sidi Nu'm\u00e1n\nthat we should perhaps be justified in concluding it to have been directly\nderived from Galland's Nights, in the absence of any Venetian version, which\nmight well have been imported independently from the East, but however this\nmay be, the story in Galland bears unquestionable internal evidence that it is\na genuine Arabian narrative, having nothing peculiarly European in its\ndetails.\n\nA somewhat similar story is quite familiar to me, but I cannot at present call\nto mind whether it occurs in a Persian collection or in The Nights, in which\nthe woman going out when she thinks her husband asleep, the latter follows her\nto a hut at some distance which she enters, and peeping into the hut, he sees\na hideous black give her a severe beating for not coming sooner, while she\npleads that she could not venture to quit the house until her husband was\nsound asleep. The two carouse together, and by-and-by the black going outside\nfor a purpose, the husband strikes off his head with his sword and then\nconceals himself close by. The woman, after waiting some time, goes out to see\nwhat is detaining her paramour, and finding his headless body, she moans over\nit in great sorrow, and then taking the corpse on her back carries it away and\nthrows it into the river. Her husband hastens home before her, and so she\nsuspects nothing. Some days after, when she refuses to do some light work\nbecause of her physical weakness, her husband can no longer control himself,\nand tells her that she had strength enough to carry on her back the body of\nher black paramour, and so on.[FN#407]\n\nThe ghoul-wife of Arabian tales, who eats little or nothing at home, has her\nin the r\u00e1kshas\u00ed of Indian fictions, who secretly devours antelopes, etc. There\nare many parallels in The Nights and other Asiatic story-books to the incident\nof Sidi Nu'man being changed back into his proper form, the most noteworthy\nbeing perhaps the case of the Second Calender in the shape of a monkey, or\nape, whom the princess, an adept in white magic, at once recognizes as a man\nand veils her face, as does the young woman in the case of Sidi Nu'man: but\nwhile the Calender is restored to his own form, the princess, alas! perishes\nin her encounter with the genie who had transformed him.--In most of the\nArabian tales of magical transformations of men and women into beasts the\nvictims are ultimately restored to their natural forms, but in the Indian\nromance of the princess Somasekhara and Chitrasekhara, a wicked king named\nUgrab\u00e1hu is permanently changed by some water taken from a magic fountain into\na monkey and sold to a beggar, who compels him to perform tricks in public for\nhis benefit. Heywood, in his \"History of Women\" (Book viii.), cites some\ncurious European stories of men being transformed into donkeys by eating a\ncertain kind of cheese,\n\n\n\n\n\n          History of Khwajah Hasan Al-habbal--p. 198.\n\n\n\nHow this entertaining story found its way into North Germany--and nowhere else\nin Europe, so far as I am aware--it is not easy to say, but its twin-brother\nseems to be orally current there, in all essential details, excepting the\nmarvellous conclusion. For the poor ropemaker, however, a struggling weaver\nand for the two gentlemen, Sa'd and Sa'd\u00ed, three rich students are\nsubstituted. There does not appear (according to the version given by Thorpe\nin his \"Yule Tide Stories,\" which he entitles, not inaptly, The Three Gifts)\nto be any difference of opinion among the students regarding the influence of\nDestiny, or Fate, upon men's fortunes: they simply give the poor weaver a\nhundred dollars \"to assist him in his housekeeping.\" The weaver hides the\nmoney in a heap of rags, unknown to his wife, who sells them to a\nrag-collector for a trifling sum. A year afterwards the students are again\npassing the house of the weaver and find him poorer than ever. He tells them\nof his mishap and they give him another hundred dollars warning him to be more\ncareful with the money this time. The weaver conceals the dollars in the\nash-tub, again without the cognisance of his wife, who disposes of the ashes\nfor a few pieces of soap. At the end of the second year the students once more\nvisit the wretched weaver, and on being informed of his loss, they throw a bit\nof lead at his feet, saying it's of no use to give such a fool money, and go\naway in a great huff. The weaver picks up the lead and places it on the window\nsill. By-and-by a neighbour, who is a fisherman, comes in and asks for a bit\nof lead or some other heavy thing, for his net, and on receiving the lead\nthrown down by the students promises to give him in return the first large\nfish he catches. The weaver does get a fine fish, which he immediately cuts\nopen, and finds in its stomach a \"large stone,\" which he lays on the\nwindow-sill, where, as it becomes dark, the stone gives forth a brighter and\nbrighter light, \"just like a candle,\" and then he places it so that it\nilluminates the whole apartment. \"That's a cheap lamp,\" quoth he to his wife:\n\"wouldst not like to dispose of it as thou didst the two hundred dollars?\" The\nnext evening a merchant happening to ride past the weaver's house perceives\nthe brilliant stone, and alighting from his horse, enters and looks at it,\nthen offers ten dollars for it, but the weaver says the stone is not for sale.\n\"What! not even for twenty dollars?\" \"Not even for that.\" The merchant keeps\non increasing his offers till he reaches a thousand dollars, which was about\nhalf its real value, for the stone was a diamond, and which the weaver\naccepts, and thus he becomes the richest man in all the village. His wife,\nhowever, took credit to herself for his prosperity, often saying to him, \"How\nwell it was that I threw away the money twice, for thou hast me to thank for\nthy good luck!\"--and here the German story ends. For the turban of the\nropemaker and the kite that carried it off, with its precious lining, we have\nthe heap of rags and the rag-collector; but the ashes exchanged for soap\nagrees with the Arabian story almost exactly.\n\nThe incident of the kite carrying off the poor ropemaker's turban in which he\nhad deposited the most part of the gold pieces that he received from the\ngentleman who believed that \"money makes money\"--an unquestionable fact, in\nspite of our story--is of very frequent occurrence in both Western and Eastern\nfictions. My readers will recollect its exact parallel in the abstract of the\nromance of Sir Isumbras, cited in Appendix to the preceding volumes: how the\nKnight, with his little son, after the soudan's ship has sailed away with his\nwife, is bewildered in a forest, where they fall asleep, and in the morning at\nsunrise when he awakes, an eagle pounces down and carries off his scarlet\nmantle, in which he had tied up his scanty store of provisions together with\nthe gold he had received from the soudan; and how many years after he found it\nin a bird's nest (Supp. Nights, vol. ii. p. 260 and p. 263).--And, not to\nmultiply examples, a similar incident occurs in the \"Kath\u00e1 Sarit S\u00e1gara,\" Book\nix. ch. 54, where a merchant named Samudras\u00fara is shipwrecked and contrives to\nreach the land, where he perceives the corpse of a man, round the loins of\nwhich is a cloth with a knot in it. On unfastening the cloth he finds in it a\nnecklace studded with jewels. The merchant proceeds towards a city called\nKalasapuri, carrying the necklace in his hand. Overpowered by the heat, he\nsits down in a shady place and falls asleep. The necklace is recognised by\nsome passing policemen as that of the king's daughter, and the merchant is at\nonce taken before the king and accused of having stolen it. While the merchant\nis being examined, a kite swoops down and carries off the necklace. Presently\na voice from heaven declares that the merchant is innocent, explains how the\nnecklace came into his possession, and orders the king to dismiss him with\nhonour. This celestial testimony in favour of the accused satisfies the king,\nwho gives the merchant much wealth and sends him on his way. The rest of the\nstory is as follows: \"And after he had crossed the sea, he travelled with a\ncaravan, and one day, at evening time, he reached a wood. The caravan encamped\nin the wood for the night, and while Samudras\u00fara was awake a powerful host of\nbandits attacked it. While the bandits were massacring the members of the\ncaravan, Samudras\u00fara left his wares and fled, and climbed up a banyan-tree\nwithout being discovered. The host of bandits departed, after they had carried\noff all the wealth, and the merchant spent that night there, perplexed with\nfear and distracted with grief. In the morning he cast his eves towards the\ntop of the tree, and saw, as fate would have it, what looked like the light of\na lamp, trembling among the leaves. And in his astonishment he climbed up the\ntree and saw a kite's nest, in which there was a heap of glittering priceless\njewelled ornaments. He took them all out of it, and found among the ornaments\nthat necklace which he had found in Svarnadv\u00edpa and the kite had carried off.\nHe obtained from that nest unlimited wealth, and descending from the tree, he\nwent off delighted, and reached in course of time his own city of Harshap\u00fara.\nThere the merchant Samudras\u00fara remained, enjoying himself to his heart's\ncontent, with his family, free from the desire of any other wealth.\"\n\nThere is nothing improbable--at all events, nothing impossible--in the History\nof Khwajah Hasan al-Habb\u00e1l. That he should lose the two sums of money in the\nmanner described is quite natural, and the incidents carry with them the\nmoral: \"Always take your wife into your confidence\" (but the Khwajah was a\nMuslim), notwithstanding the great good luck which afterwards befell, and\nwhich, after all, was by mere chance. There is nothing improbable in the\nfinding of the turban with the money intact in the bird's nest, but that this\nshould occur while the Khwajah's benefactors were his guests is--well, very\nextraordinary indeed! As to the pot of bran--why, some little license must be\nallowed a story-teller, that is all that need be said! The story from\nbeginning to end is a most charming one, and will continue to afford pleasure\nto old and young--to \"generations yet unborn.\"\n\n\n\n\n             Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves--p.219\n\n\n\nI confess to entertaining a peculiar affection for this tale. It was the first\nof the tales of the \"Arabian Nights Entertainments\" which I read in the days\nof my \"marvelling boyhood\" eheu! fugaces, &c, etc. I may therefore be somewhat\nprejudiced in its favour, just as I still consider Scott's \"Waverley\" as the\nbest of his long series of fascinating fictions, that being the first of them\nwhich I read--as it was the first he wrote. But \"All Baba and the Forty\nThieves\"--the \"open, sesame!\" \"shut, sesame!\"--the sackfuls of gold and silver\nand the bales of rich merchandise in the robbers' cave--the avaricious brother\nforgetting the magical formula which would open the door and permit him to\nescape with his booty--his four quarters hung up in terrorem--and above all,\nthe clever, devoted slave girl Morgiana, who in every way outwitted the crafty\nrobber-chief,--these incidents remain stamped in my memory ineffaceably: like\nthe initials of lovers' names cut into the bark of a growing tree, which, so\nfar from disappearing, become larger by the lapse of time. To me this\ndelightful tale will ever be, as Hafiz sings of something, \"freshly fresh and\nnewly new.\" I care not much though it never be found in an Arabic or any other\nOriental dress--but that it is of Asiatic invention is self-evident; there is,\nin my poor opinion nothing to excel it, if indeed to equal it, for intense\ninterest and graphic narrative power in all The Nights proper.\n\nSir Richard Burton has remarked, in note 1, p. 219, that Mr. Coote could only\nfind in the south of Europe, or in the Levant, analogues of two of the\nincidents of this tale, yet one of those may be accepted as proof of its\nEastern extraction, namely, the Cyprian story of \"Three Eyes,\" where the ogre\nattempts to rescue his wife with a party of blacks concealed in bales: \"The\nKing's jester went downstairs, in order to open the bales and takes something\nout of them. Directly he approached one of the sacks, the black man answered\nfrom the inside,'Is it time, master?' In the same manner he tried all the\nsacks, and then went upstairs and told them that the sacks were full of black\nmen. Directly the King's bride heard this, she made the jester and the company\ngo downstairs. They take the executioner with them, and go to the first sack.\nThe black man says from the inside, 'Is it time ?' 'Yes,' say they to him, and\ndirectly he came out they cut his head off. In the same manner they go to the\nother sacks and kill the other black men.''[FN#408]\n\nThe first part of the tale of Ali Baba--ending with the death of his greedy\nbrother--is current in North Germany, to this effect:\n\nA poor woodcutter, about to fell a beech at the back of the scattered ruins of\nthe castle of Dummburg, seeing a monk approach slowly through the forest, hid\nhimself behind a tree. The monk passed by and went among the rocks. The\nwoodcutter stole cautiously after him and saw that he stopped at a small door\nwhich had never been discovered by the villagers. The monk knocks gently and\ncries, \"Little door, open!\" and the door springs open. He also cries, \"Little\ndoor, shut!\" and the door is closed. The woodcutter carefully observes the\nplace, and next Sunday goes secretly and obtains access to the vault by the\nsame means as that employed by the monk. He finds in it \"large open vessels\nand sacks full of old dollars and fine guilders, together with heavy gold\npieces, caskets filled with jewels and pearls, costly shrines and images of\nsaints, which lay about or stood on tables of silver in corners of the vault.\"\nHe takes but a small quantity of the coin, and as he is quitting the vault a\nvoice cries, \"Come again!\" First giving to the church, for behoof of the poor,\na tenth of what he had taken, he goes to the town and buys clothes for his\nwife and children, giving out to his neighbours that he had found an old\ndollar and a few guilders under the roots of a tree that he had felled. Next\nSunday he again visits the vault, this time supplying himself somewhat more\nliberally from the hoard, but still with moderation and discretion, and \"Come\nagain!\" cries a voice as he is leaving. He now gives to the church two tenths,\nand resolves to bury the rest of the money he had taken in his cellar. But he\ncan't resist a desire to first measure the gold, for he could not count it. So\nhe borrows for this purpose a corn-measure of a neighbour--a very rich but\npenurious man, who starved himself, hoarded up corn, cheated the labourer of\nhis hire, robbed the widow and the orphan, and lent money on pledges. Now the\nmeasure had some cracks in the bottom, through which the miser shook some\ngrains of corn into his own heap when selling it to the poor labourer, and\ninto these cracks two or three small coins lodged, which the miser was not\nslow to discover. He goes to the woodcutter and asks him what it was he had\nbeen measuring. \"Pine-cones and beans. But the miser holds up the coins he had\nfound in the cracks of the measure, and threatens to inform upon him and have\nhim put to the question if he will not disclose to him the secret of his\nmoney. So the woodcutter is constrained to tell him the whole story and much\nagainst his will, but not before he had made the miser promise that he would\ngive one-tenth to the church, he conducts him to the vault. The miser enters,\nwith a number of sacks, the woodcutter waiting outside to receive them when\nfilled with treasure. But while the miser is gloating over the enormous wealth\nbefore him--even \"wealth beyond the dreams of avarice\"--a great black dog\ncomes and lays himself down on the sacks. Terrified at the flaming eyes of the\ndog, the miser crept towards the door but in his fear forgot the proper words,\nand instead of saying, \"Little door, open!\" he cried!, \"Little door, shut!\"\nThe woodcutter, having waited a long time, approached the door, and knocking\ngently and crying \"Little door, open!\" the door sprang open and he entered.\nThere lay the bleeding body of his wicked neighbour, stretched on his sacks,\nbut the vessels of gold and silver, and diamonds and pearls, sank deeper and\ndeeper into the earth before his eyes, till all had completely\nvanished.[FN#409]\n\nThe resemblance which this North German tale bears to the first part of \"All\nBaba\" is striking, and is certainly not merely fortuitous; the fundamental\noutline of the latter is readily recognisable in the legend of The Dummburg,\nnotwithstanding differences in the details. In both the hero is a poor\nwoodcutter, or faggot-maker; for the band of robbers a monk is substituted in\nthe German legend, and for the \"open, sesame\" and \"shut, sesame,\" we have\n\"little door, shut,\" and \"little door, open.\" In both the borrowing of a\ncorn-measure is the cause of the secret being revealed--in the one case, to\nKasim, the greedy brother of Ali Baba and in the other, to a miserly old\nhunks; the fate of the latter and the disappearance of all the treasure are\nessentially German touches. The subsequent incidents of the tale of Ali Baba,\nin which the main interest of the narrative is concentrated;--Ali Baba's\ncarrying off the four quarters of his brother's body and having them sewed\ntogether, the artifices by which the slave-girl checkmates the robber-chief\nand his followers in their attempts to discover the man who had learned the\nsecret of the treasure-cave--her marking all the doors in the street and her\npouring boiling oil on the robbers concealed in the oil-skins in the\ncourtyard;--these incidents seem to have been adapted, or imitated, from some\nversion of the world-wide story of the Robbery of the Royal Treasury, as told\nby Herodotus, of Rhampsinitus, King of Egypt, in which the hero performs a\nseries of similar exploits to recover the headless body of his brother and at\nthe same time escape detection. Moreover, the conclusion of the tale of Ali\nBaba, where we are told he lived in comfort and happiness on the wealth\nconcealed in the robbers' cave, and \"in after days he showed the hoard to his\nsons and his sons' sons, and taught them how the door could be caused to open\nand shut\"--this is near akin to the beginning of Herodotus' legend of the\ntreasury: the architect who built it left a stone loose, yet so nicely\nadjusted that it could not be discovered by any one not in the secret, by\nremoving which he gained access to the royal stores of gold, and having taken\nwhat he wanted replaced the stone as before; on his deathbed he revealed the\nsecret to his two sons as a legacy for their future maintenance. The discovery\nof Ali Baba's being possessed of much money from some coins adhering to the\nbottom of the corn-measure is an incident of very frequent occurrence in\npopular fictions; for instance, in the Icelandic story of the Magic Queen that\nground out gold or whatever its possessor desired (Powell and Magnusson's\ncollection, second series); in the Indian tale of the Six Brothers (Vernieux's\ncollection) and its Irish analogue \"Little Fairly;\" in the modern Greek\npopular tale of the Man with Three Grapes (Le Grand's French collection), and\na host of other tales, both Western and Eastern. The fate of Ali Baba's rich\nand avaricious brother, envious of his good luck, finds also many\nparallels--mutatis mutandis--as in the story of the Magic Queen, already\nreferred to, and the Mongolian tale of the poor man and the Dakinis, the 14th\nrelation of Siddh\u00ed K\u00far. Morgiana's counter-device of marking all the doors in\nthe street, so that her master's house should not be recognised, often occurs,\nin different forms: in my work on Popular Tales and Fictions, vol. ii. pp.\n164, 165, a number of examples are cited. The pretended merchant's objecting\nto eat meat cooked with salt, which fortunately aroused Morgiana's suspicions\nof his real character\u02dafor robber and murderer as he was, he would not be\n\"false to his salt''[FN#410]--recalls an anecdote related by D'Herbelot, which\nmay find a place here, in conclusion: The famous robber Yac\u00fab bin Layth,\nafterwards the founder of a dynasty of Persian monarchs called Soffarides, in\none of his expeditions broke into the royal palace and having collected a\nlarge quantity of plunder, was on the point of carrying it off when his foot\nstruck against something which made him stumble. Supposing it not to be an\narticle of value, he put it to his mouth, the better to distinguish it. From\nthe taste he found it was a lump of salt, the symbol and pledge of\nhospitality, on which he was so touched that he retired immediately without\ncarrying away any part of his booty. The next morning the greatest\nastonishment was caused throughout the palace on the discovery of the\nvaluables packed up and ready for removal. Yacub was arrested and brought\nbefore the prince, to whom he gave a faithful account of the whole affair, and\nby this means so ingratiated himself with his sovereign that he employed him\nas a man of courage and ability in many arduous enterprises, in which he was\nso successful as to be raised to the command of the royal troops, whose\nconfidence in and affection for their general induced them on the prince's\ndeath to prefer his interest to that of the heir to the throne, from whence he\nafterwards spread his extensive conquests.\n\n                      * * * * * * * * * *\n\nSince the foregoing was in type I discovered that I had overlooked another\nGerman version, in Grimm, which preserves some features of the Arabian tale\nomitted in the legend of The Dummburg:\n\nThere were two brothers, one rich, the other poor. The poor brother, one day\nwheeling a barrow through the forest, had just come to a naked looking\nmountain, when he saw twelve great wild men approaching, and he hid himself in\na tree, believing them to be robbers. \"Semsi mountain, Semsi mountain, open!\"\nthey cried, and the mountain opened, and they went in. Presently they came\nout, carrying heavy sacks. \"Semsi mountain, Semsi mountain, shut thyself!\"\nthey cried; and the mountain closed and they went away. The poor man went up\nthen and cried. \"Semsi mountain Semsi mountain, open!\" the mountain opens, he\ngoes in, finds a cavern full of gold, silver, and jewels, fills his pockets\nwith gold only, and coming out cries, \"Semsi mountain, Semsi mountain, shut\nthyself!\" He returns home and lives happily till his gold is exhausted. Then\n\"he went to his brother to borrow a measure that held a bushel, and brought\nhimself some more.\" This he does again, and this time the rich brother smears\nthe inside of the bushel with pitch and when he gets it back finds a gold coin\nsticking to it, so he taxes his poor brother with having treasure and learns\nthe secret. Off he drives, resolved to bring back, not gold, but jewels. He\ngets in by saying, \"Semsi mountain, Semsi mountain, open!\" He loads himself\nwith precious stones, but has forgotten the word, and cries only, \"Simeli\nmountain, Simeli mountain, open!\" The robbers return and charge him with\nhaving twice stolen from them. He vainly protests, \"It was not I \" and they\ncut his head off.\n\nHere the twelve wild men represent the forty robbers, and, as in Ali Baba, it\nis the hero's brother who falls a victim to his own cupidity. In the Arabian\ntale the hero climbs up into a tree when he sees the robbers approach, in The\nDummburg he hides himself behind a tree to watch the proceedings of the monk;\nand in Grimm's version he hides in a tree. On this last-cited story W. Grimm\nhas the following note: \"It is remarkable that this story, which is told in\nthe province of Munster, is told also in the Hartz, about The Dummburg, and\nclosely resembles the Eastern story of 'The Forty Thieves,' where even the\nrock Sesam, which falls open at the words Semsi and Semeli, recalls the name\nof the mountain in the German saga. This name for a mountain is, according to\na document in Pistorius (3, 642), very ancient in Germany. A mountain in\nGrabfeld is called Similes and in a Swiss song a Simeliberg is again\nmentioned. This makes us think of the Swiss word 'Sine!,' for 'sinbel,' round.\nIn Meier, No. 53, we find 'Open, Simson.' In Prohle's 'Marcher fur die\nJugend,' No. 30, where the story is amplified, it is Simsimseliger Mountain.\nThere is also a Polish story which is very like it.\" Dr. Grimm is mistaken in\nsaying that in the Arabian tale the \"rock Sesam\" falls open at the words Semsi\nand Semeli: even in his own version, as the brother finds to his cost, the\nword Simeli does not open the rock. In Ali Baba the word is \"Simsim\" (Fr.\nSesame), a species of grain, which the brother having forgot, he cries out\n\"Barley.\" The \"Open, Simson\" in Meier's version and the \"Semsi\" in Grimm's\nstory are evidently corruptions of \"Simsim,\" or \"Samsam,\" and seem to show\nthat the story did not become current in Germany through Galland's work.\n\nDr. N. B. Dennys, in his \"Folk-Lore of China, and its Affinities with that of\nthe Aryan and Semitic Races,\" p. 134, cites a legend of the cave Kwang-sio-foo\nin Kiang-si, which reflects part of the tale of Ali Baba: There was in the\nneighbourhood a poor herdsman named Chang, his sole surviving relative being a\ngrandmother with whom he lived. One day, happening to pass near the cave, he\noverheard some one using the following words: \"Shih mun kai, Kwai Ku hsen\nsh\u00eang lai,\" Stone door, open; Mr. Kwai Ku is coming. Upon this the door of the\ncave opened and the speaker entered. Having remained there for some time he\ncame out, and saying, \"Stone door, close; Mr. Kwai Ku is going,\" the door\nagain opened and the visitor departed. Chang's curiosity was naturally\nexcited, and having several times heard the formula repeated, he waited one\nday until the genie (for such he was) had taken his departure and essayed to\nobtain an entrance. To his great delight the door yielded, and having gone\ninside he found himself in a romantic grotto of immense extent. Nothing\nhowever in the shape of treasure met his eye, so having fully explored the\nplace he returned to the door, which shut at his bidding, and went home. Upon\ntelling his grandmother of his adventure she expressed a strong wish to see\nthe wonderful cavern; and thither they accordingly went together the next day.\nWandering about in admiration of the scenery, they became separated, and Chang\nat length, supposing that his grandmother had left, passed out of the door and\nordered it to shut. Reaching home, he found to his dismay that she had not yet\narrived. She must of course have been locked up in the cave, so back he sped\nand before long was using the magic sentence to obtain access. But alas! the\ntalisman had failed, and poor Chang fell into an agony of apprehension as he\nreflected that his grandmother would either be starved to death or killed by\nthe enraged genie. While in this perplexity the genie appeared and asked him\nwhat was amiss. Chang frankly told him the truth and implored him to open the\ndoor. This the genie refused to do, but told him that his grandmother's\ndisappearance was a matter of fate. The cave demanded a victim. Had it been a\nmale, every succeeding generation of his family would have seen one of its\nmembers arrive at princely rank. In the case of a woman her descendants would\nin a similar way possess power over demons. Somewhat comforted to know that he\nwas not exactly responsible for his grandmother's death, Chang returned home\nand in process of time married. His first son duly became Chang tien shih\n(Chang, the Master of Heaven), who about A.D. 25 was the first holder of an\noffice which has existed uninterruptedly to the present day.\n\n\n\n\n        Ali Khwajah and the Merchant of Baghdad--p. 246.\n\n\n\nPrecocious Children.--See note at end of the Tale, p. 256.--In the\n(apocryphal) Arabic Gospel of the Saviour's Infancy is the following passage:\n\n\"Now in the month of Adar, Jesus, after the manner of a King, assembled the\nboys together. They spread their clothes on the ground and he sat down upon\nthem. Then they put on his head a crown made of flowers, and like\nchamber-servants stood in his presence, on the right and on the left, as if he\nwas a king. And whoever passed by that way was forcibly dragged by the boys,\nsaying, 'Come hither and adore the king; then go away.'\"\n\nA striking parallel to this is found in the beginning of the Mongolian Tales\nof Ardshi Bordshi--i.e., the celebrated Indian monarch, R\u00e1j\u00e1 Bhoja, as given\nin Miss Busk's \"Sagas from the Far East,\" p. 252.\n\n\"Long ages ago there lived a mighty king called Ardshi Bordshi.[FN#411] In the\nneighbourhood of his residence was a hill where the boys who were tending the\ncalves were wont to pass the time by running up and down. But they had also\nanother custom, and it was that whichever of them won the race was king for\nthe day--an ordinary game enough, only that when it was played in this place\nthe Boy-King thus constituted was at once endowed with such extraordinary\nimportance and majesty that everyone was constrained to treat him as a real\nking. He had not only ministers and dignitaries among his playfellows, who\nprostrated themselves before him, and fulfilled all his behests, but whoever\npassed that way could not choose but pay him homage also.\"[FN#412]\n\nThis is followed by an analogous story to that of Ah Khwajah and the Merchant\nof Baghdad, under the title of \"The False Friend,\" in which a merchant on a\ntrading journey entrusts a friend with a valuable jewel to give to his wife on\nhis return home, and the friend retaining it for his own use suborns two men\nto bear witness that they saw him deliver it to the merchant's wife, so the\nKing dismisses the suit. But the Boy-King undertakes to try the case de novo;\ncauses the two witnesses to be confined in separate places, each with a piece\nof clay which he is required to make into the form of the jewel, and the\nmodels are found to be different one from the other, and both from the shape\nof the jewel as described by the false friend. A similar story occurs in\nseveral Indian collections, with a K\u00e1z\u00ed instead of the Boy-King.\n\nA curious instance of precocity is related in the Third Book of the \"Masnavi\"\n(see ante p. 365), of which Mr. E. H. Whinfield gives an outline in his\nadmirable and most useful abridgment of that work: The boys wished to obtain a\nholiday, and the sharpest of them suggested that when the master came into\nschool each boy should condole with him on his alleged sickly appearance.\nAccordingly, when he entered, one said, \"O master, how pale you are looking!\nand another said, You are looking very ill to-day, and so on. The master at\nfirst answered that there was nothing the matter with him, but as one boy\nafter another continued assuring him that he looked very ill, he was at length\ndeluded into imagining that he must really be ill. So he returned to his\nhouse, making the boys follow him there, and told his wife that he was not\nwell, bidding her mark how pale he was. His wife assured him he was not\nlooking pale, and offered to convince him by bringing a mirror, but he refused\nto look at it, and took to his bed. He then ordered the boys to begin their\nlessons; but they assured him that the noise made his head ache, and he\nbelieved them, and dismissed them to their homes, to the annoyance of their\nmothers.\n\nAnother example of juvenile cleverness is found in a Persian collection of\nanecdotes entitled \"Lat\u00e1'yif At-Taw'\u00e1yif,\" by 'Al\u00ed ibn Husain Al-Va'iz\nAl-K\u00e1shif\u00ed: One day N\u00farsh\u00edrv\u00e1n saw in a dream that he was drinking with a frog\nout of the same cup. When he awoke he told this dream to his vaz\u00edr, but he\nknew not the interpretation of it. The king grew angry and said, \"How long\nhave I maintained thee, that if any difficulty should arise thou mightest\nunloose the knot of it, and if any matter weighed on my heart thou shouldst\nlighten it? Now I give thee three days, that thou mayest find out the meaning\nof this dream, and remove the trouble of my mind; and if, within that space,\nthou art not successful, I will kill thee.\" The vaz\u00edr went from the presence\nof N\u00farsh\u00edrv\u00e1n confounded and much in trouble. He gathered together all the\nsages and interpreters of dreams, and told the matter to them, but they were\nunable to explain it; and the vaz\u00edr resigned his soul to death. But this story\nwas told in the city, and on the third day he heard that there was a mountain,\nten farsangs distant from the city, in which was a cave, and in this cave a\nsage who had chosen the path of seclusion, and lived apart from mankind, and\nhad turned his face to the wall. The vaz\u00edr set out for this place of\nretirement, saying to himself, \"Perhaps he will be able to lay a plaster on my\nwound, and relieve it from the throbbings of care.\" So he mounted his horse,\nand went to find the sage. At the moment he arrived at the hill a company of\nboys were playing together. One of them cried out with a loud voice, \"The\nvaz\u00edr is running everywhere in search of an interpreter, and all avails him\nnothing; now the interpretation of the dream is with me, and the truth of it\nis clear to me.\" When these words reached the ears of the vaz\u00edr he drew in the\nreins, and calling the boy to him asked him, \"What is thy name? He replied,\n\"Buzurjmibr.\" The vaz\u00edr said \"All the sages and interpreters have failed in\nloosing the knot of this difficulty--how dost thou, so young in years, pretend\nto be able to do it? He replied, \"All the world is not given to every one.\"\nThe vaz\u00edr said, \"If thou speakest truth, explain.\" Said the boy \"Take me to\nthe monarch, that I may there unloose the knot of this difficulty.\" The vaz\u00edr\nsaid, \"If thou shouldst fail, what then will come of it?\" The boy replied, \"I\nwill give up my own blood to the king, that they may slay me instead of thee.\"\nThe vaz\u00edr took the boy with him, returned, and told the whole matter to the\nking and produced the boy in his presence. The king was very angry, and said,\n\"All the wise men and dream interpreters of the court were unable to satisfy\nme, and thou bringest me a child, and expectest that he shall loose the knot\nof the difficulty.\" The vaz\u00edr bowed his head. And Buzurjmihr said, \"Look not\nupon his youth, but see whether he is able to expound the mystery or not.\" The\nking then said, \"Speak.\" He replied, \"I cannot speak in this multitude.\" So\nthose who were present retired, and the monarch and the youth were left alone.\nThen said the youth, \"A stranger has found entrance into thy seraglio, and is\ndishonouring thee, along with a girl who is one of thy concubines.\" The king\nwas much moved at this interpretation, and looked from one of the wise men to\nanother, and at length said to the boy, \"This is a serious matter thou hast\nasserted; how shall this matter be proceeded in, and in what way fully known?\"\nThe boy replied, \"Command that every beautiful woman in thy seraglio pass\nbefore thee unveiled, that the truth of this matter may be made apparent.\" The\nking ordered them to pass before him as the boy had said, and considered the\nface of each one attentively. Among them came a young girl extremely\nbeautiful, whom the king much regarded. When she came opposite to him, a\nshuddering as of palsy, fell upon her, and she shook from head to foot, so\nthat she was hardly able to stand. The king called her to him, and threatening\nher greatly, bade her speak the truth. She confessed that she loved a handsome\nslave and had privately introduced him into the seraglio. The king ordered\nthem both to be impaled, and turning to the rewarding of Buzurjmihr, he made\nhim the object of his special bounty.\n\nThis story has been imported into the \"History of the Seven Wise Masters of\nRome,\" the European form of the Book of Sindib\u00e1d, where the prince discovers\nto his father the paramour of his step-mother, the empress, in the person of a\nyoung man disguised as one of her maid-servants, and its presence in the work\nis quite inconsistent with the lady's violent lust after the young prince.\nThere is a similar tale in the Hebrew version, \"Mishl\u2044 Sandabar,\" but the\ndisguised youth is not detected. Vatsyayana, in his \"K\u00e1ma Sutra\" (or Aphorisms\nof Love), speaks of it as a common practice in India thus to smuggle men into\nthe women's apartments in female attire. In the Introduction to the \"Kath\u00e1\nSarit S\u00e1gara,\" Vararuchi relates how King Yogananda saw his queen leaning out\nof a window and asking questions of a B\u00e1hman guest that was looking up. That\ntrivial circumstance threw the king into a passion, and he gave orders that\nthe Br\u00e1hman should be put to death) for jealousy interferes with discernment.\nThen as that Br\u00e1hman was being led off to the place of execution in order that\nhe should be put to death, a fish in the market laughed aloud, though it was\ndead. The king hearing it immediately prohibited for the present the execution\nof the Br\u00e1hman, and asked Vararuchi the reason why the fish laughed. He\ndesired time to think over the matter and learned from the conversation of a\nr\u00e1kshas\u00ed with her children that the fish said to himself, \"All the king's\nwives are dissolute, for in every part of his harem there are men dressed up\nas women, and nevertheless while those escape, an innocent Brahm\u00e1n is to be\nput to death;\" and this tickled the fish so that he laughed. Mr. Tawney says\nthat Dr. Liebrecht, in \"Orient und Occident,\" vol. i. p. 341, compares this\nstory with one in the old French romance of Merlin. There Merlin laughs\nbecause the wife of Julius C sar had twelve young men disguised as\nladies-in-waiting. Benfey, in a note on Liebrecht's article, compares with the\nstory of Merlin one by the Countess d'Aulnois, No. 36 of Basile's\n\"Pentamerone,\" Straparola, iv. 1, and a story in the \"Suka Saptati.\" In this\nsome cooked fish laugh so that the whole town hears them; the reason being the\nsame as in the above story and in that of Merlin. In a Kashm\u00edr\u00ed version, which\nhas several other incidents and bears a close resemblance to No. 4 of M.\nLegrand's \"Recueil de Contes Populaires Grecs,\" to the story of \"The Clever\nGirl\" in Professor T. F. Crane's \"Italian Popular Tales,\" and to a fable in\nthe Talmud, the king requires his vaz\u00edr to inform him within six months why\nthe fish laughed in presence of the queen. The vaz\u00edr sends his son abroad\nuntil the king's anger had somewhat cooled--for himself he expects nothing but\ndeath. The vaz\u00edr's son learns from the clever daughter of a farmer that the\nlaughing of the fish indicates that there is a man in the palace unknown to\nthe king. He hastens home and tells his father the secret, who at once\ncommunicates it to the king. All the female attendants in the palace are\ncalled together and ordered to jump across the mouth of a pit which he has\ncaused to be dug: the man would betray his sex in the trial. Only one person\nsucceeded and he was found to be a man.[FN#413] Thus was the queen satisfied,\nand the faithful old vaz\u00edr saved, and his son, of course, married the farmer's\nclever daughter.\n\n\n\n\n            Prince Ahmad and the Peri Banu--p. 256.\n\n\n\nHow, in the name of all that is wonderful--how has it happened that this\never-delightful tale is not found in any text of The Nights? And how could it\nbe supposed for a moment that Galland was capable of conceiving such a tale--\nredolent, as it is, of the East and of Fairyland? Not that Fairyland where\n\"True Thomas,\" otherwise ycleped Thomas the Rymer, otherwise Thomas of\nErceldoune, passed several years in the bewitching society of the Fairy Queen,\nyears which appeared to him as only so many moments: but Eastern Fairyland,\nwith all its enchanting scenes; where priceless gems are as plentiful as\n\"autumnal leaves which strong the brooks in Vallombrosa;\" where, in the royal\nbanqueting hall, illuminated with hundreds of wax candles, in candelabra of\nthe finest amber and the purest crystal are bands of charming damsels, fairest\nof form and feature, who play on sweet- toned instruments which discourse\nheart-ravishing strains of melody;--meanwhile the beauteous Per\u00ed B\u00e1n\u00fa is\nseated on a throne adorned with diamonds and rubies and emeralds, and pearls\nand other gems, and by her side is the thrice-happy Prince Ahmad, who feels\nhimself amply indemnified for the loss of his fair cousin Princess\nN\u00far-en-Nih\u00e1r. Auspicious was that day when he shot the arrow which the\nenamoured Per\u00ed B\u00e1n\u00fa caused to be wafted through the air much farther than arm\nof flesh could ever send the feathered messenger! And when the Prince feels a\nnatural longing to visit his father in the land of mortals from time to time,\nbehold the splendid cavalcade issue from the portals of the fairy palace--the\ngallant jinn-born cavaliers, mounted on superb steeds with gorgeous housings,\nwho accompany him to his father's capital. But alas! the brightest sky is\nsooner or later overcast--human felicity is--etc., etc. The old king's mind is\npoisoned against his noble son by the whisperings of a malignant and envious\nminister--a snake in the grass--a fly in the ointment of Prince Ahmad's\nbeatitude! And to think of the old witch gaining access to the fairy palace--\nit was nothing less than an atrocity! And the tasks which she induces the king\nto set Prince Ahmad to perform--but they are all accomplished for him by his\nfairy bride. The only thing to regret--the fatal blemish in the tale--is the\nslaughter of the old king. Shabbar did right well to dash into the smallest\npieces the wicked vaz\u00edr and the foul witch and all who aided and abetted them,\nbut \"to kill a king!\" and a well-meaning if soft-headed king, who was, like\nmany better men, led astray by evil counsellors!\n\nHaving thus blown off the steam--I mean to say, having thus ventilated the\nenthusiasm engendered by again reading the tale of Prince Ahmad and the Per\u00ed\nB\u00e1n\u00fa, I am now in a fitter frame of mind for the business of examining some\nversions and variants of it, for though the tale has not yet been found in\nArabic, it is known from the banks of Ganga to the snow-clad hills and vales\nof Iceland--that strange land whose heart is full of the fiercest fires. This\ntale, like that of Zayn al-Asn\u00e1m, comprises two distinct stories, which have\nno necessary connection, to wit, (1) the adventures of the Three Princes, each\nin quest of the rarest treasure, wherewith to win the beautiful Princess\nN\u00far-en-Nih\u00e1r; and (2) the subsequent history of the third Prince and the Per\u00ed\nB\u00e1n\u00fa. The oldest known form of the story concludes with the recovery of the\nlady--not from death's door, but from a giant who had carried her off, and the\nrival claims of the heroes to the hand of the lady are left undecided:\ncertainly a most unsatisfactory ending, though it must be confessed the case\nwas, as the priest found that of Paddy and the stolen pullet, somewhat\n\"abstruse.\" In the \"Vet\u00e1lapanchavinsati,\" or Twenty-five Tales of a Vampyre\n(concerning which collection see Appendix to the preceding volumes, p. 230),\nthe fifth recital is to this purpose:\n\nThere was a Br\u00e1hman in Ajjayini (Oojein) whose name was Harisvamin; he had a\nson named Devasvamin and a daughter far famed for her wondrous beauty and\nrightly called Somaprabha (Moonlight). When the maiden had attained\nmarriageable age, she declared to her parents that she was only to be married\nto a man who possessed heroism, or knowledge, or magic power. It happened soon\nafter this that Harisvamin was sent by the king on state business to the\nDekkan, and while there a young Br\u00e1hman, who had heard the report of\nSomaprabha's beauty, came to him as a suitor for the hand of his daughter.\nHarisvamin informed him of the qualifications which her husband must possess,\nand the Br\u00e1hman answered that he was endowed with magic power, and having\nshown this to the father's satisfaction, he promised to give him his daughter\non the seventh day from that time. In like manner, at home, the son and the\nwife of Harisvamin had, unknown to each other, promised Somaprabha to a young\nman who was skilled in the use of missile weapons and was very brave, and to a\nyouth who possessed knowledge of the past, the present, and the future; and\nthe marriage was also fixed to take place on the seventh day. When Harisvamin\nreturned home he at once told his wife and son of the contract he has entered\ninto with the young Br\u00e1hman, and they in their turn acquainted him of their\nseparate engagements, and all were much perplexed what course to adopt in the\ncircumstances.\n\nOn the seventh day the three suitors arrived, but Somaprabha was found to have\ndisappeared in some inexplicable manner. The father then appealed to the man\nof knowledge, saying, \"Tell me where my daughter is gone?\" He replied, \"She\nhas been carried off by a r\u00e1kshasa to his habitation in the Vindhya forest.\"\nThen quoth the man of magic power \"Be of good cheer, for I will take you in a\nmoment where the possessor of knowledge says she is.\" And forthwith he\nprepared a magic chariot that could fly through the air, provided all sorts of\nweapons, and made Harisvamin, the man of knowledge, and the brave man enter it\nalong with himself, and in a moment carried them to the dwelling of the\nr\u00e1kshasa. Then followed a wonderful fight between the brave man and the\nr\u00e1kshasa, and in a short time the hero cut off his head, after which they took\nSomaprabha into the chariot and quickly returned to Harisvamin's house. And\nnow arose a great dispute between the three suitors. Said the man of\nknowledge, \"If I had not known where the maiden was how could she have been\ndiscovered?\" The man of magic argued, \"If I had not made this chariot that can\nfly through the air, how could you all have come and returned in a moment?\"\nThen the brave man said, \"If I had not slain the r\u00e1kshasa, how could the\nmaiden have been rescued?\" While they were thus wrangling Harisvamin remained\nsilent, perplexed in mind. The Vampyre, having told this story to the King,\ndemanded to know to whom the maiden should have been given. The King replied,\n\"She ought to have been given to the brave man; for he won her by the might of\nhis arm and at the risk of his life, slaying that r\u00e1kshasa in combat. But the\nman of knowledge and the man of magic power were appointed by the Creator to\nserve as his instruments.\" The perplexed Harisvamin would have been glad, no\ndoubt, could he have had such a logical solution of the question as this of\nthe sagacious King Trivikramasena--such was his six-syllabled name.\n\nThe Hind\u00ed version (\"Bayt\u00e1l Pach\u00edsi\") corresponds with the Sanskrit, but in the\nTamil version the father, after hearing from each of the three suitors an\naccount of his accomplishments, promises to give his daughter to \"one of\nthem.\" Meanwhile a giant comes and carries off the damsel. There is no\ndifference in the rest of the story.\n\nIn the Persian Parrot-Book (\"T\u00fat\u00ed N\u00e1ma\" ) where the tale is also found\n[FN#414]--it is the 34th recital of the loquacious bird in the India Office\nMS. No. 2573, the 6th in B. Gerrans' partial translation, 1792, and the 22nd\nin K\u00e1deri's abridgment--the first suitor says that his art is to discover\nanything lost and to predict future events; the second can make a horse of\nwood which would fly through the air; and the third was an unerring archer.\n\nIn the Persian \"Sindib\u00e1d N\u00e1ma,\" a princess, while amusing herself in a garden\nwith her maidens, is carried away by a demon to his cave in the mountains. The\nking proclaims that he will give his daughter in marriage to whoever should\nbring her back. Four brothers offer themselves for the undertaking: one is a\nguide who has travelled over the world; the second is a daring robber, who\nwould take the prey even from the lion's mouth; the third is a brave warrior;\nand the fourth is a skilful physician. The guide leads the three others to the\ndemons' cave, the robber steals the damsel while the demon is absent; the\nphysician, finding her at death's door, restored her to perfect health; while\nthe warrior puts to flight a host of demons who sallied out of the cave.\n\nThe Sanskrit story has undergone a curious transformation among the Kalmuks.\nIn the 9th Relation of Siddh\u00ed K\u00far (a Mongolian version of the Vampyre Tales)\nsix youths are companions: an astrologer, a smith, a doctor, a mechanic, a\npainter, and a rich man's son. At the mouth of a great river each plants a\ntree of life and separates, taking different roads, having agreed to meet\nagain at the same spot, when if the tree of any of them is found to be\nwithered it will be a token that he is dead. The rich man's son marries a\nbeautiful girl, who is taken from him by the Khan, and the youth is at the\nsame time put to death by the Khan's soldiers and buried under a great rock.\nWhen the four other young men meet at the time and place appointed they find\nthe tree of the rich youth withered. Thereupon the astrologer by his art\ndiscovers where the youth is buried; the smith breaks the rock asunder; the\nphysician restores the youth to life, and he tells them how the Khan had\nrobbed him of his wife and killed him. The mechanic then constructs a flying\nchariot in the form of Garuda--the bird of Vishnu; the counterpart of the\nArabian rukh--which the painter decorates, and when it is finished the rich\nyouth enters it and is swiftly borne through the air to the roof of the Khan's\ndwelling, where he alights. The Khan, supposing the machine to be a real\nGaruda, sends the rich youth's own wife to the roof with some food for it.\nCould anything have been more fortunate? The youth takes her into the wooden\nGaruda and they quickly arrive at the place where his companions waited for\nhis return. When they beheld the marvellous beauty of the lady the five\nskilful men instantly fell in love with her, and began to quarrel among\nthemselves, each claiming the lady as his by right, and drawing their knives\nthey fought and slew one another. So the rich youth was left in undisputed\npossession of his beautiful bride.\n\nComing back to Europe we find the primitive form of the story partly preserved\nin a Greek popular version given in Hahn's collection: Three young men are in\nlove with the same girl, and agree to go away and meet again at a given time,\nwhen he who shall have learned the best craft shall marry the girl. They meet\nafter three years' absence. One has become a famous astronomer; the second is\nso skilful a physician that he can raise the dead, and the third can run\nfaster than the wind. The astronomer looks at the girl's star and knows from\nits trembling that she is on the point of death. The physician prepares a\nmedicine which the third runs off with at the top of his speed, and pours it\ndown the girl's throat just in time to save her life--though, for the matter\nof that, she might as well have died, since the second suitor was able to\nresuscitate the dead!\n\nBut the German tale of the Four Clever Brothers, divested of the preliminary\nincidents which have been brought into it from different folk-tales, more\nnearly approaches the form of the original, as we may term the Sanskrit story\nfor convenience' sake: A poor man sends his four sons into the world, each to\nlearn some craft by which he might gain his own livelihood. After travelling\ntogether for some time they came to a place where four roads branched off and\nthere they separated, each going along one of the roads, having agreed to meet\nat the same spot that day four years. One learns to be an excellent astronomer\nand, on quitting, his master gives him a telescope,[FN#415] saying, \"With this\nthou canst see whatever takes place either on earth or in heaven, and nothing\ncan remain concealed from thee.\" Another becomes a most expert thief. The\nthird learns to be a sharpshooter and gets from his master a gun which would\nnever fail him: whatever he aimed at he was sure to hit. And the youngest\nbecomes a very clever tailor and is presented by his master with a needle,\nwhich could sew anything together, hard or soft. At the end of the four years\nthey met according to agreement, and returning together to their father's\nhouse, they satisfied the old man with a display of their abilities Soon after\nthis the king's daughter was carried off by a dragon, and the king proclaimed\nthat whoever brought her back should have her to wife. This the four clever\nbrothers thought was a fine chance for them, and they resolved to liberate the\nking's daughter. The astronomer looked through his telescope and saw the\nprincess far away on a rock in the sea and the dragon watching beside her.\nThen they went and got a ship from the king, and sailed over the sea till they\ncame to the rock, where the princess was sitting and the dragon was asleep\nwith his head in her lap. The hunter feared to shoot lest he should kill the\nprincess. Then the thief crept up the rock and stole her from under the dragon\nso cleverly that the monster did not awake. Full of joy, they hurried off with\nher and sailed away. But presently the dragon awoke and missing the princess\nflew after them through the air. Just as he was hovering above the ship to\nswoop down upon it, the hunter shot him through the heart and he tumbled down\ndead, but falling on the vessel his carcase smashed it into pieces. They laid\nhold of two planks and drifted about till the tailor with his wonderful needle\nsewed the planks together, and then they collected the fragments of the ship\nwhich the tailor also sewed together so skilfully that their ship was again\nsea-worthy, and they soon got home in safety. The king was right glad to see\nhis daughter and told the four brothers they must settle among themselves\nwhich of them should have her to wife. Upon this they began to wrangle with\none another. The astronomer said, \"If I had not seen the princess, all your\narts would have been useless, so she is mine.\" The thief claimed her, because\nhe had rescued her from the dragon; the hunter, because he had shot the\nmonster; and the tailor, because he had sewn the ship together and saved them\nall from drowning. Then the king decreed: \"Each of you has an equal right, and\nas all of you cannot have her, none of you shall; but I will give to each as a\nreward half a kingdom,\" with which the four clever brothers were well\ncontented.\n\nThe story has assumed a droll form among the Albanians, in which no fewer than\nseven remarkably endowed youths play their parts in rescuing a king's daughter\nfrom the Devil, who had stolen her out of the palace. One of the heroes could\nhear far off; the second could make the earth open; the third could steal from\nany one without his knowing it; the fourth could throw an object to the end of\nthe world; the fifth could erect an impregnable tower; the sixth could bring\ndown anything however high it might be in the air and the seventh could catch\nwhatever fell from any height. So they set off together, and after travelling\nalong way, the first lays his ear to the ground. \"I hear him,\" he says. Then\nthe second causes the earth to open, and down they go, and find the Devil\nsound asleep, snoring like thunder, with the princess clasped to his breast.\nThe third youth steals her without waking the fiend. Then the fourth takes off\nthe Devil's shoes and flings them to the end of the world, and off they all go\nwith the princess. The Devil wakes and goes after them, but first he must find\nhis shoes--though what need he could have for shoes it is not easy to say; but\nmayhap the Devil of the Albanians is minus horns, hoof and tail! This gives\nthe fifth hero time to erect his impregnable tower before the fiend returns\nfrom the end of the world. When he comes to the tower he finds all his skill\nis naught, so he has recourse to artifice, which indeed has always been his\nforte. He begs piteously to be allowed one last look of his beloved princess.\nThey can't refuse him so slight a favour, and make a tiny hole in the tower\nwall, but, tiny as it is, the Devil is able to pull the princess through it\nand instantly mounts on high with her. Now is the marksman's opportunity: he\nshoots at the fiend and down he comes, \"like a hundred of bricks\" (as we don't\nsay in the classics), at the same time letting go the princess, who is\ncleverly caught by the seventh hero, and is none the worse for her aerial\njourney. The princess chooses the seventh for her husband, as he is the\nyoungest and best looking, but her father the king rewards his companions\nhandsomely and all are satisfied.\n\nThe charming history of Prince Ahmad and his fairy bride is \"conspicuous from\nits absence\" in all these versions, but it re-appears in the Italian\ncollection of Nerucci: \"Novelle Popolari Montalesi,\" No. xl., p. 335, with\nsome variations from Galland's story:\n\nA certain king had three daughters, and a neighbouring king had three sons,\nwho were much devoted to the chase. They arrived at the city of the first\nking, and all fell in love with his daughter[FN#416] and wanted to marry her.\nHer father said it was impossible to content them all, but if one of them\nwould ask her, and if he pleased her, he would not oppose the marriage. They\ncould not agree which it was to be, and her father proposed that they should\nall travel, and the one who at the end of six months brought the most\nbeautiful and wonderful present should marry her. They set out in different\ndirections and at the end of six months they meet by appointment at a certain\ninn. The eldest brings a magic carpet on which he is wafted whithersoever he\nwill. (It goes a hundred miles in a day.) The second brings a telescope which\nshows whatever is happening a hundred miles away. The youngest brings three\nstones of a grape, one of which put into the mouth of a person who is dying\nrestores him to life. They at once test the telescope by wishing to see the\nprincess, and they find her dying--at the last gasp indeed. By means of the\ncarpet they reach the palace m time to save her life with one of the\ngrape-stones. Each claims the victory. Her father, almost at his wits' end to\ndecide the question, decrees that they shall shoot with the crossbow, and he\nwho shoots farthest shall win the princess. The second brother shoots farther\nthan the first; but the youngest shoots so far that they cannot find where\nkits arrow has fallen. He persists in the search and falls down a deep hole,\nfrom the bottom of which he can scarcely see a speck of the sky. There an ogre\n(mago) appears to him and also a bevy of young fairy maidens of extreme\nbeauty. They lead him to a marvellous palace, give him refreshments and\nprovide him with a room and a bed, where every night one of the fairies bears\nhim company. He spends his days in pleasure until the king's daughter is\nalmost forgotten. At last he begins to think he ought to learn what has become\nof his brothers, his father, and the lady. The chief fairy however, tries to\ndissuade him warning him that evil will befall him if he return to his\nbrothers. He persists, and she tells him that the princess is given to his\neldest brother, who reigns in his father-in-law's stead the latter having\ndied, and that his own father is also dead; and she warns him again not to go.\nBut he goes. His eldest brother says that he thought he was dead \"in that\nhole.\" The hero replies that, on the contrary, he fares so well with a bevy of\nyoung and beautiful fairies that he does not even envy him, and would not\nchange places with him for all the treasures in the world. His brother,\ndevoured by rage, demands that the hero bring him within eight days a pavilion\nof silk which will lodge three hundred soldiers, otherwise he will destroy his\npalace of delights. The hero, affrighted, returns to the fairies and relates\nhis brother's threats. The chief fairy says, \"Didn't I tell you so? You\ndeserve that I should leave you to your fate; but, out of pity for your youth,\nI will help you.\" And he returns to his brother within eight days with the\nrequired pavilion. But his brother is not satisfied: he demands another silk\npavilion for 600 soldiers, else he will lay waste the abode of the fairies.\nThis pavilion he also receives from the fairies, and it was much finer and\nricher than the first. His brother's demands rise when he sees that the hero\ndoes not find any difficulty in satisfying him. He now commands that a column\nof iron 12 cubits (braccia) high be erected in the midst of a piazza. The\nchief of the fairies also complies with this requirement. The column is ready\nin a moment, and as the hero cannot carry it himself, she gives it to the\nguardian ogre, who carries it upon his shoulders, and presents himself, along\nwith the hero, before the eldest brother. As soon as the latter comes to see\nthe column set in the piazza the ogre knocks him down and reduces him to pulp\n(cofaccino, lit., a cake), and the hero marries his brother's widow and\nbecomes king in his stead.\n\nAlmost suspiciously like the story in Galland in many of the details is an\nIcelandic version in Powell and Magn\u00fasson's collection, yet I cannot conceive\nhow the peasantry of that country could have got it out of \"Les Mille et une\nNuits.\" There are two ways by which the story might have reached them\nindependently of Galland's work: the Arabs and Persians traded extensively in\nformer times with Scandinavia, through Russia, and this as well as other Norse\ntales of undoubtedly Eastern extraction may have been communicated by the same\nchannel;[FN#417] or the Norsemen may have taken it back with them from the\nSouth of Europe. But however this may be, the Icelandic version is so quaint\nin its diction, has such a fresh aroma about it, and such novel particulars,\nthat I feel justified in giving it here in full:\n\nIt is said that once, in the days of old, there was a good and wealthy king\nwho ruled over a great and powerful realm; but neither his name nor that of\nhis kingdom is given, nor the latter's whereabouts in the world. He had a\nqueen, and by her three sons, who were all fine youths and hopeful, and the\nking loved them well. The king had taken, too, a king's daughter from a\nneighbouring kingdom, to foster her, and she was brought up with his sons. She\nwas of the same age as they, and the most beautiful and accomplished lady that\nhad ever been seen in those days, and the king loved her in no way less than\nhis own sons. When the princess was of age, all the king's sons fell in love\nwith her, and things even went so far that they all of them engaged her at\nonce, each in his own name. Their father, being the princess's foster-father,\nhad the right of bestowing her in marriage, as her own father was dead. But as\nhe was fond of all his sons equally the answer he gave them was, that he left\nit to the lady's own choice to take for a husband whichever of the brothers\nshe loved the most. On a certain day he had the princess called up to him and\ndeclared his will to her, telling her that she might choose for a husband\nwhichever she liked best of his sons. The princess answered, \"Bound I am in\nduty to obey your words. But as to this choice of one of your sons to be my\nhusband I am in the greatest perplexity; for I must confess they are all\nequally dear to me, and I cannot choose one before the other.\" When the king\nheard this answer of the princess he found himself in a new embarrassment, and\nthought a long while what he could do that should be equally agreeable to all\nparties, and at last hit upon the following decision of the matter: that all\nhis sons should after a year's travel return each with a precious thing, and\nthat he who had the finest thing should be the princess's husband. This\ndecision the king's sons found to be a just one and they agreed to meet after\none year at a certain castle in the country, whence they should go all\ntogether, to the town, in order to lay their gifts before the princess. And\nnow their departure from the country was arranged as well as could be.\n\nFirst the tale tells of the eldest, that he went from one land to another, and\nfrom one city to another, in search of a precious thing, but found nowhere\nanything that at all suited his ideas. At last the news came to his ears that\nthere was a princess who had so fine a spy-glass that nothing so marvellous\nhad ever been seen or heard of before. In it one could see all over the world,\nevery place, every city, every man, and every living being that moved on the\nface of the earth, and what every living thing in the world was doing. Now the\nprince thought that surely there could be no more precious thing at all likely\nto turn up for him than this telescope; he therefore went to the princess, in\norder to buy the spy-glass if possible. But by no means could he prevail upon\nthe king's daughter to part with her spy-glass, till he had told her his whole\nstory and why he wanted it, and used all his powers of entreaty. As might be\nexpected, he paid for it well. Having got it he returned home, glad at his\nluck, and hoping to wed the king's daughter.\n\nThe story next turns to the second son. He had to struggle with the same\ndifficulties as his elder brother. He travelled for a long while over the wide\nworld without finding anything at all suitable, and thus for a time he saw no\nchance of his wishes being fulfilled. Once he came into a very well-peopled\ncity; and went about in search of precious things among the merchants, but\nneither did he find nor even see what he wanted. He heard that there lived a\nshort way from the town a dwarf, the cleverest maker of curious and cunning\nthings. He therefore resolved to go to the dwarf in order to try whether he\ncould be persuaded to make him any costly thing. The dwarf said that he had\nceased to make things of that sort now and he must beg to be excused from\nmaking anything of the kind for the prince. But he said that he had a piece of\ncloth, made in his younger days, with which however, he was very unwilling to\npart. The king's son asked the nature and use of the cloth The dwarf answered,\n\"On this cloth one can go all over the world, as well through the air as on\nthe water. Runes are on it, which must be understood by him who uses it.\" Now\nthe prince saw that a more precious thing than this could scarcely be found,\nand therefore asked the dwarf by all means to let him have the cloth. And\nalthough the dwarf would not at first part with his cloth at all, yet at last,\nhearing what would happen if the king's son did not get it, he sold it to him\nat a mighty high price. The prince was truly glad to have got the cloth, for\nit was not only a cloth of great value, but also the greatest of treasures m\nother respects, having gold-seams and jewel-embroidery. After this he returned\nhome, hoping to get the best of his brothers in the contest for the damsel.\n\nThe youngest prince left home last of all the three brethren.[FN#418] First he\ntravelled from one village to another in his own country, and went about\nasking for precious things of every merchant he met on his way, as also on all\nsides where there was the slightest hope of his getting what he wanted. But\nall his endeavours were in vain, and the greater part of the year was spent in\nfruitless search till at last he waxed sad in mind at his lot. At this time he\ncame into a well-peopled city, whereto people were gathered from all parts of\nthe world. He went from one merchant to another till at last he came to one\nwho sold apples.[FN#419] This merchant said he had an apple that was of so\nstrange a nature that if it was put into the arm-hole of a dying man he would\nat once return to life. He declared that it was the property of his family and\nhad always been used in the family as a medicine. As soon as the king's son\nheard this he would by all means have the apple, deeming that he would never\nbe able to find a thing more acceptable to the king's daughter than this. He\ntherefore asked the merchant to sell him the apple and told him all the story\nof his search, and that his earthly welfare was based upon his being in no way\ninferior to his brethren in his choice of precious things for the princess.\nThe merchant felt pity for the prince when he had told him his story, so much\nso that he sold him the apple, and the prince returned home, glad and\ncomforted at his happy luck.\n\nNow nothing more is related of the three brothers till they met together at\nthe place before appointed. When they were all together each related the\nstriking points in his travelling. All being here, the eldest brother thought\nthat he would be the first to see the princess and find out how she was and\ntherefore he took forth his spy-glass and turned it towards the city. But what\nsaw he? The beloved princess lying in her bed, in the very jaws of death! The\nking, his father, and all the highest nobles of the court were standing round\nthe bed in the blackness of sorrow, sad in their minds, and ready to receive\nthe last sigh of the fair princess. When the prince saw this lamentable sight\nhe was grieved beyond measure. He told his brothers what he had seen and they\nwere no less struck with sorrow than himself. They began bewailing loudly,\nsaying that they would give all they had never to have undertaken this\njourney, for then at least they would have been able to perform the last\noffices for the fair princess. But in the midst of these bewailings the second\nbrother bethought him of his cloth, and remembered that he could get to the\ntown on it in a moment. He told this to his brothers and they were glad at\nsuch good and unexpected news. Now the cloth was unfolded and they all stepped\non to it, and in one of moment it was high in the air and in the next inside\nthe town. When they were there they made all haste to reach the room of the\nprincess, where everybody wore an air deep sadness. They were told that the\nprincess's every breath was her last. Then the youngest brother remembered his\nwonderful apple, and thought that it would never be more wanted to show its\nhealing power than now. He therefore went straight into the bed-room of the\nprincess and placed the apple under her right arm. And at the same moment it\nwas as if a new breath of life flushed through the whole body of the princess;\nher eyes opened, and after a little while she began to speak to the folk\naround her. This and the return of the king's sons caused great joy at the\ncourt of the king.\n\nNow some time went by until the princess was fully recovered. Then a large\nmeeting was called together, at which the brothers were bidden to show their\ntreasures. First the eldest made his appearance, and showing his spy-glass\ntold what a wonderful thing it was, and also how it was due to this glass that\nthe life of the fair princess had ever been saved, as he had seen through it\nhow matters stood in the town. He therefore did not doubt for a moment that\nhis gift was the one which would secure him the fair princess.\n\nNext stepped forward the second brother with the cloth. Having described its\npowers, he said, \"I am of opinion that my brother's having seen the princess\nfirst would have proved of little avail had I not had the cloth, for thereupon\nwe came so quickly to the place to save the princess; and I must declare that\nto my mind, the cloth is the chief cause of the king's daughter's recovery.\"\n\nNext stepped forward the youngest prince and said, as he laid the apple before\nthe people, \"Little would the glass and the cloth have availed to save the\nprincess's live had I not had the apple. What could we brothers have profited\nin being only witnesses of the beloved damsel's death? What would this have\ndone, but awaken our grief and regret? It is due alone to the apple that the\nprincess is yet alive; wherefore I find myself the most deserving of her.\"\n\nThen a long discussion arose in the meeting, and the decision at last came\nout, that all the three things had worked equally towards the princess's\nrecovery, as might be seen from the fact that if one had been wanting the\nothers would have been worthless. It was therefore declared that, as all gifts\nhad equal claim to the prize, no one could decide to whom the princess should\nbelong.\n\nAfter this the king planned another contrivance in order to come to some end\nof the matter. He soon should try their skill in shooting, and he who proved\nto be the ablest shooter of them should have the princess. So a mark was\nraised and the eldest brother stepped forward with his bow and quiver. He\nshot, and no great distance from the mark fell his arrow. After that stepped\nforward the second brother, and his arrow well-nigh reached the mark. Last of\nall stepped forward the third and youngest brother, and his arrow seemed to go\nfarther than the others, but in spite of continued search for many days it\ncould not be found. The king decided in this matter that his second son should\nmarry the princess They were married accordingly, and as the king, the father\nof the princess, was dead, his daughter now succeeded him, and her husband\nbecame king over his wife's inheritance. They are now out of this tale, as is\nalso the eldest brother, who settled in life abroad.\n\nThe youngest brother stayed at home with his father, highly displeased at the\ndecision the latter had given concerning the marriage of the princess. He was\nwont to wander about every day where he fancied his arrow had fallen, and at\nlast he found it fixed in an oak in the forest, and saw that it had by far\noutstripped the mark. He now called together witnesses to the place where the\narrow was, with the intention of bringing about some justice m his case. But\nof this there was no chance, for the king said he could by no means alter his\ndecision. At this the king's son was so grieved that he went well-nigh out of\nhis wits. One day he busked for a journey, with the full intention of never\nagain setting foot m his country. He took with him all he possessed of fine\nand precious things, nobody knowing his rede, not even his father, the king.\n\nHe went into a great forest and wandered about there many days, without\nknowing whither he was going, and at last, yielding to hunger and weariness,\nhe found himself no longer equal to travelling; so he sat down under a tree,\nthinking that his sad and sorrowful life would here come to a close. But after\nhe had sat thus awhile he saw ten people, all in fine attire and bright\narmour, come riding towards the stone. On arriving there they dismounted, and\nhaving greeted the king's son begged him to go with them, and mount the spare\nhorse they had with them, saddled and bridled in royal fashion. He accepted\nthis offer and mounted the horse, and after this they rode on their way till\nthey came to a large city. The riders dismounted and led the prince into the\ntown, which was governed by a young and beautiful maiden-queen. The riders led\nthe king's son at once to the virgin-queen, who received him with great\nkindness. She told him that she had heard of all the ill-luck that had\nbefallen him and also that he had fled from his father. \"Then,\" quoth she, \"a\nburning love for you was kindled in my breast and a longing to heal your\nwounds. You must know that it was I who sent the ten riders to find you out\nand bring you hither. I give you the chance of staying here; I offer you the\nrule of my whole kingdom, and I will try to sweeten your embittered life;--\nthis is all that I am able to do.\" Although the prince was in a sad and gloomy\nstate of mind, he saw nothing better than to accept this generous offer and\nagree to the marriage with the maiden-queen. A grand feast was made ready, and\nthey were married according to the ways of that country. And the young king\ntook at once in hand the government, which he managed with much ability.\n\nNow the story turns homewards, to the old king. After the disappearance of his\nson he became sad and weary of life, being, as he was, sinking in age. His\nqueen also had died sometime since. One day it happened that a wayfaring woman\ncame to the palace. She had much knowledge about many things and knew how to\ntell tales.[FN#420] The king was greatly delighted with her story-telling and\nshe got soon into his favour. Thus some time passed. But in course of time the\nking fell deeply in love with this woman, and at last married her and made her\nhis queen, in spite of strong dissent from the court. Shortly this new queen\nbegan meddling in the affairs of the government, and it soon turned out that\nshe was spoiling everything by her redes, whenever she had the chance. Once it\nhappened that the queen spoke to the king and said, \"Strange indeed it seems\nto me that you make no inquiry about your youngest son's running away: smaller\nfaults have been often chastised than that. You must have heard that he has\nbecome king in one of the neighbouring kingdoms, and that it is a common tale\nthat he is going to invade your dominions with a great army whenever he gets\nthe wished-for opportunity, in order to avenge the injustice he thinks he has\nsuffered in that bygone bridal question. Now I want you to be the first in\nthrowing this danger off-hand.\" The king showed little interest in the matter\nand paid to his wife's chattering but little attention. But she contrived at\nlength so to speak to him as to make him place faith in her words, and he\nasked her to give him good redes, that this matter might be arranged in such a\nway as to be least observed by other folk. The queen said, \"You must send men\nwith gifts to him and pray him to come to you for an interview, in order to\narrange certain political matters before your death, as also to strengthen\nyour friendship with an interchange of marks of kindred. And then I will give\nyou further advice as to what to do.\" The king was satisfied with this and\nequipped his messengers royally.\n\nThen the messengers came before the young king, saying they were sent by his\nfather, who wished his son to come and see him without delay. To this the\nyoung king answered well, and lost no time in bushing his men and himself. But\nwhen his queen knew this she said he would assuredly rue this journey. The\nking went off, however, and nothing is said of his travels till he came to the\ntown where his father lived. His father received him rather coldly, much to\nthe wonder and amazement of his son. And when he had been there a short while\nhis father gave him a good chiding for having run away. \"Thereby,\" said the\nold king, \"you have shown full contempt of myself and caused me such sorrow as\nwell-nigh brought me to the grave. Therefore, according to the law, you have\ndeserved to die; but as you have delivered yourself up into my power and are,\non the other hand, my son, I have no mind to have you killed. But I have three\ntasks for you which you must have performed within a year, on pain of death.\nThe first is that you bring me a tent which will hold one hundred men but can\nyet be hidden in the closed hand;[FN#421] the second, that you shall bring me\nwater that cures all ailments;[FN#422] and the third, that you shall bring me\nhither a man who has not his like in the whole world.\" \"Show me whither I\nshall go to obtain these things,\" said the young king. \"That you must find out\nfor yourself,\" replied the other.\n\nThen the old king turned his back upon his son and went off. Away went also\nthe young king, no farewells being said, and nothing is told of his travels\ntill he came home to his realm. He was then very sad and heavy-minded, and the\nqueen seeing this asked him earnestly what had befallen him and what caused\nthe gloom on his mind. He declared that this did not regard her. The queen\nanswered, \"I know that tasks must have been set you which it will not prove\neasy to perform. But what will it avail you to sit sullen and sad on account\nof such things? Behave as a man, and try if these tasks may not indeed be\naccomplished.\"\n\nNow the king thought it best tell the queen all that had happened and how\nmatters stood. \"All this,\" said the queen, \"is the rede of your stepmother,\nand it would be well indeed if she could do you no more harm by it than she\nhas already tried to do. She has chosen such difficulties she thought you\nwould not easily get over, but I can do something here. The tent is in my\npossession, so there is that difficulty over. The water you have to get is a\nshort way hence but very hard of approach. It is in a well and the well is in\na cave hellishly dark. The well is watched by seven lions and three serpents,\nand from these monsters nobody has ever returned alive; and the nature of the\nwater is that it has no healing power whatever unless it be drawn when all\nthese monsters are awake. Now I will risk the undertaking of drawing the\nwater.\" So the queen made herself ready to go to the cave, taking with her\nseven oxen and three pigs. When she came before the cave she ordered the oxen\nto be killed and thrown before the lions and the pigs before the serpents. And\nwhile these monsters tore and devoured the carcases the queen stepped down\ninto the well and drew as much water as she wanted. And she left the cave just\nin time as the beasts finished devouring their bait. After this the queen went\nhome to the palace having thus got over the second trial.\n\nThen she came to her husband and said, \"Now two of the tasks are done, but the\nthird and indeed the hardest, of them is left. Moreover, this is one you must\nperform yourself, but I can give you some hints as to whither to go for it. I\nhave got a half brother who rules over an island not far from hence. He is\nthree feet high, and has one eye in the middle of his forehead. He has a beard\nthirty ells long, stiff and hard as a hog's bristles. He has a dog's snout and\ncat's ears, and I should scarcely fancy he has his like in the whole world.\nWhen he travels he flings himself forward on a staff of fifty ells' length,\nwith a pace as swift as a bird's flight. Once when my father was out hunting\nhe was charmed by an ogress who lived in a cave under a waterfall, and with\nher he begat this bugbear. The island is one-third of my father's realm, but\nhis son finds it too small for him. My father had a ring the greatest gem,\nwhich each of us would have, sister and brother, but I got it, wherefore he\nhas been my enemy ever since. Now I will write him a letter and send him the\nring in the hope that that will soften him and turn him in our favour. You\nshall make ready to go to him, with a splendid suite, and when you come to his\npalace-door you shall take off your crown and creep bareheaded over the floor\nup to his throne. Then you shall kiss his right foot and give him the letter\nand the ring. And if he orders you to stand up, you have succeeded in your\ntask; if not, you have failed.\"\n\nSo he did everything that he was bidden by the queen, and when he appeared\nbefore the one-eyed king he was stupefied at his tremendous ugliness and his\nbugbear appearance; but he plucked up courage as best he could and gave him\nthe letter and the ring. When the king saw the letter and the ring his face\nbrightened up, and he said, \"Surely my sister finds herself in straits now, as\nshe sends me this ring.\" And when he had read the letter he bade the king, his\nbrother-in-law, stand up, and declared that he was ready to comply with his\nsister's wish and to go off at once without delay. He seized his staff and\nstarted away, but stopped now and then for his brother-in-law and his suite,\nto whom he gave a good chiding for their slowness.[FN#423] They continued thus\ntheir march until they came to the palace of the queen, the ugly king's\nsister; but when they arrived there the one-eyed king cried with a roaring\nvoice to his sister, and asked her what she wished, as she had troubled him to\ncome so far from home. She then told him all the matter as it really was and\nbegged him to help her husband out of the trial put before him. He said he was\nready to do so, but would brook no delay.\n\nNow both kings went off, and nothing is told of their journey until they came\nto the old king. The young king announced to his father his coming and that he\nbrought with him what he had ordered last year. He wished his father to call\ntogether a ting[FN#424] in order that he might show openly how he had\nperformed his tasks. This was done, and the king and the queen and other great\nfolk were assembled. First the tent was put forward and nobody could find\nfault with it. Secondly the young king gave the wondrous healing water to his\nfather. The queen was prayed to taste it and see if it was the right water,\ntaken at the right time. She said that both things were as they should be.\nThen said the old king, \"Now the third and heaviest of all the tasks is left:\ncome, and have it off your hands quickly.\" Then the young king summoned the\nking with one eye, and as he appeared on the ting he waxed so hideous that all\nthe people were struck with fright and horror, and most of all the king. When\nthis ugly monarch had shown himself for a while there he thrust his staff\nagainst the breast of the queen and tilted her up into the air on the top of\nit, and then thrust her against the ground with such force that every bone in\nher body was broken. She turned at once into the most monstrous troll ever\nbeheld. After this the one eyed king rushed away from the ting and the people\nthronged round the old king in order to help him, for he was in the very jaws\nof death from fright. The healing water was sprinkled on him and refreshed\nhim.\n\nAfter the death of the queen, who was killed of course when she turned into a\ntroll, the king confessed that all the tasks which he had given his son to\nperform were undeserved and that he had acted thus, egged on by the queen. He\ncalled his son to him and humbly begged his forgiveness for what he had done\nagainst him. He declared he would atone for it by giving into his hand all\nthat kingdom, while he himself only wished to live in peace and quiet for the\nrest of his days. So the young king sent for his queen and for the courtiers\nwhom he loved most. And, to make a long story short, they gave up their former\nkingdom to the king with one eye, as a reward, for his lifetime, but governed\nthe realm of the old king to a high age, in great glee and happiness,\n\n\n\n\n       The Two Sisters Who Envied Their Cadette--p. 313.\n\n\n\nLegends of castaway infants are common to the folk-lore of almost all\ncountries and date far back into antiquity. The most usual mode of exposing\nthem--to perish or be rescued, as chance might direct--is placing them in a\nbox and launching them into a river. The story of Moses in the bulrushes,\nwhich must of course be familiar to everybody, is not only paralleled in\nancient Greek and Roman legends (e.g. Perseus, Cyrus, Romulus), but finds its\nanalogue in Babylonian folk-lore.[FN#425] The leading idea of the tale of the\nEnvious Sisters, who substituted a puppy, a kitten, and a rat for the three\nbabes their young sister the queen had borne and sent the little innocents\naway to be destroyed, appealing, as it does to the strongest of human\ninstincts, is the theme of many popular fictions from India to Iceland. With a\nmalignant mother-in-law in place of the two sisters, it is the basis of a\nmedi val European romance entitled \"The Knight of the Swan,\" and of a similar\ntale which occurs in \"Dolopathus,\" the oldest version of the \"Seven Wise\nMasters,\" written in Latin prose about the year 1180: A king while hunting\nloses his way in a forest and coming to a fountain perceives a beautiful lady,\nwhom he carries home and duly espouses much against the will of his mother,\nMatabrun. Some time after, having to lead his knights and men-at-arms against\nan enemy, he commits the queen, now far advanced in pregnancy to the care of\nhis mother, who undertakes that no harm shall befall her during his absence.\nThe queen is delivered at one birth of seven lovely children, six boys and one\ngirl, each of whom has a silver chain around its neck.[FN#426] The king's\nmother plots with the midwife to do away with the babes and place seven little\ndogs in bed beside the poor queen. She gives the children to one of her\nsquires, charging him either to slay them or cast them into the river. But\nwhen the squire enters the forest his heart relents and laying the infants\nwrapped in his mantle, on the ground, he returns and tells his mistress that\nhe has done her behest. When the king returns, the wicked Matabrun accuses his\nwife to him of having had unnatural commerce with a dog, and shows him the\nseven puppies. The scene which follows presents a striking likeness to that in\nthe Arabian story after the birth of the third child. King Oriant is full of\nwrath, and at once assembles his counsellors, \"dukes, earls knights and other\nlords of the realm, with the bishop and prelate of the church,\" and having\nstated the case, the bishop pleads in favour of the queen, and finally induces\nhim not to put her to death, but confine her in prison for the rest of her\nlife. Meanwhile the children are discovered by an aged hermit, who takes them\nto his dwelling, baptises them and brings them up. After some years it happens\nthat a yeoman in the service of the king's mother, while hunting in the\nforest, perceives the seven children with silver chains round their necks\nseated under a tree. He reports this to Matabrun, who forthwith sends him back\nto kill the children and bring her their silver chains. He finds but six of\nthem one being absent with the hermit, who was gone alms seeking; and, touched\nby their innocent looks, he merely takes off the silver chains, whereupon they\nbecome transformed into pretty white swans and fly away. How the innocence of\nthe queen is afterwards vindicated by her son Helyas--he who escaped being\nchanged into a swan--and how his brethren and sister are restored to their\nproper forms would take too long to tell, and indeed the rest of the romance\nhas no bearing on the Arabian tale.[FN#427]\n\nIn another mediaeval work, from which Chaucer derived his Man of Law's Tale,\nthe Life of Constance, by Nicholas Trivet, an English Dominican monk, the\nsaintly heroine is married to a king, in whose absence at the wars his mother\nplots against her daughter-in- law. When Constance gives birth to a son, the\nold queen causes letters to be written to the king, in which his wife is\ndeclared to be an evil spirit in the form of a woman and that she had borne,\nnot a human child, but a hideous monster. The king, in reply, commands\nConstance to be tended carefully until his return. But the traitress contrives\nby means of letters forged in the king's name to have Constance and her son\nsent to sea in a ship, where she meets with strange adventures. Needless to\nsay, the old queen's wicked devices come to naught.\n\nThe story of the Envious Sisters as told by Galland was known in Italy (as Dr.\nW. Grimm points out in the valuable notes to his K. u. H.M.) many generations\nbefore the learned Frenchman was born, through the \"Pleasant Nights\" of\nStraparola. That Galland took his story from the Italian novelist it is\nimpossible to believe, since, as Mr. Coote has observed, Straparola's work\n\"was already known in France for a couple of centuries through a popular\nFrench translation,\" and Galland would at once have been an easily convicted\ncopyist. Moreover the story, imitated from Straparola, by Madame d'Aulnois,\nunder the title of \"La Belie Etoile et Le Prince Cheri,\" had been published\nbefore Galland's last two volumes appeared, and both those writers had the\nsame publisher. It is clear, therefore, that Galland neither invented the\nstory nor borrowed it from Straparola or Madame d'Aulnois. Whence, then, did\nhe obtain it?--that is the question. His Arabic source has not yet been\ndiscovered, but a variant of the world-wide story is at the present day orally\ncurrent in Egypt and forms No. xi. of \"Comes Arabes Modernes. Recueillis et\nTraduits par Guillaume Spitta Bey\" (Paris, 1883), of which the following is a\ntranslation:\n\n\n                     MODERN ARABIC VERSION.\n\nThere was once a King who said to his vaz\u00edr, \"Let us take a walk through the\ntown during the night.\" In walking about they came to a house where they heard\npeople talking, and stopping before it they heard a girl say, \"If the King\nwould marry me, I would make him a tart (or pie) so large that it would serve\nfor him and his army.\" And another said, \"If the King would marry me, I would\nmake him a tent that would shelter him and his whole army.\" Then a third said,\n\"If the King would marry me, I would present him with a daughter and a son,\nwith golden hair, and hair of hyacinth colour alternately; if they should\nweep, it would thunder, and if they should laugh, the sun and moon would\nappear.\" The King on hearing these words went away, and on the following day\nhe sent for the three girls and made the contract of marriage with them. He\npassed the first night with the one who had spoken first, and said to her,\n\"Where is the tart that would be sufficient for me and my army?\" She answered\nhim, \"The words of the night are greased with butter: when day appears they\nmelt away.\" The next night he slept with the second, saying to her, \"Where is\nthe tent which would be large enough for me and my army?\" She answered him,\n\"It was an idea that came into my mind.\" So the King ordered them to go down\ninto the kitchen among the slaves. He passed the third night with the tattle\none, saying, \"Where are the boy and girl whose hair is to be like gold and\nhyacinth?\" She replied, \"Tarry with me nine months and nine minutes.\" In due\ntime she became pregnant, and on the night of her confinement the midwife was\nsent for. Then the other wife of the King went and met her in the street and\nsaid to her, \"When she has been delivered, how much will the King give you ?\"\nShe answered, \"He will issue orders to give me fifteen mahb\u00fabs.[FN#428] The\nother said, \"Behold, here are forty mahh\u00fabs from me. Take these two little\nblind puppies, and when she has given birth to a son and a daughter, take them\nand place them in a box and put these two puppies in their stead, and remove\nthe children.\" The midwife took the money and the little dogs and went away.\nWhen the King's new wife was safely delivered, the midwife did according to\nher agreement with the other wife of the King, and then went before him and\nsaid, \"I fear to speak.\" He answered, \"Speak; I grant you pardon.\" Then said\nshe, \"Your wife has been delivered of two dogs.\" Then the King gave orders,\nsaying, \"Take and cover her with tar, and bind her to the staircase, and let\nany who may go up or down spit upon her,\" which was done accordingly. And the\nmidwife carried away the children and threw them into the river.\n\nNow there was a fisherman who lived on an island with his wife, and they had\nno children. On the morrow he went to the water-side to fish and found a box\ndriven on to the shore He carried it home to his wife, and placing it between\nthem, he said, \"Listen, my dear, I am going to make a bargain with you: if\nthis contains money, it will be for me, if it contains children, they will be\nfor you.\" She replied, \"Very well, I am quite content.\" They then opened the\nbox and found in it a baby boy and girl. The baby boy had his finger in the\nbaby girl's mouth and the latter had her finger in his mouth, and they were\nsucking one another's fingers. The woman took them out of the box and prayed\nto Heaven, \"Make milk come into my breasts, for the sake of these little\nones.\" And by the Almighty power the milk came into her breasts, and she\ncontinued to bring them up until they had reached the age of twelve years.\n\nOne day the fisherman caught two large white fish, and the youth said to him,\n\"These two white fish are pretty, my father; I will take and sell them, or\ncarry them as a present to the King.\" So the boy took them and went away. He\nsat down with them in the Fish Market: people gathered about him, and those\nwho did not look at the fish looked at the boy. The King also came past, and\nseeing the two white fish and the boy he called to him saying, \"What is the\nprice, my lad?\" The boy answered, \"They are a present for you, my prince.\"\nThereupon the King took him to the palace and said to him, \"What is your\nname?\" and he replied, \"My name is Muhammed, and my father is the fisherman\nwho lives on the island.\" Then the King gave him thirty mahb\u00fabs, saying, \"Go\naway, discreet one, and every day return here to my house.\" So the lad\nreturned home and gave the money to his father. The next morning two more\nwhite fish were caught and Muhammed carried them to the King, who took him\ninto his garden and made him sit down opposite him. The King remained there\ndrinking his wine and looking on the beauty of the youth: love for the lad\nentered his heart and he remained with him two hours.[FN#429] Then he gave\norders to provide the youth with a horse for his use in coming to and\nreturning from his house, and Muhammed mounted the horse and rode home.\n\nWhen he visited the King the following day he was again led into the garden,\nand the other wife of the King, looking from her window saw the lad and\nrecognised him. She at once sent for the old midwife, and said to her, \"I bade\nyou kill the children, yet they are still living upon the earth.\" Replied the\nold woman, \"Have patience with me, O Queen for three days, and I will kill\nhim.\" Then she went away, and having procured a pitcher tied it to her girdle,\nbewitched it, mounted on it, and struck it with a whip, and forthwith the\npitcher flew away with her and descended upon the island near the fisherman's\ncottage.[FN#430] She found the young girl, Muhammed's sister, sitting alone,\nand thus addressed her: \"My dear, why are you thus alone and sad? Tell your\nbrother to fetch you the rose of Arab Zandyk, that it may sing to you and\namuse you, instead of your being thus lonely and low-spirited.\" When her\nbrother came home, he found her displeased and asked her, \"Why are you vexed,\nmy sister?\" She replied, \"I should like the rose of Arab Zandyk, that it may\nsing to me and amuse me.\" \"At your command,\" said he; \"I am going to bring it\nto you.\"\n\nHe mounted his horse and travelled into the midst of the desert, where he\nperceived an ogress seated and pounding wheat with a millstone on her arm.\nAlighting, he came up to her and saluted her saying, \"Peace be with you,\nmother ogress.\" She replied, \"If your safety did not prevail over your words,\nI would eat the flesh from off your bones.\" Then she asked, \"Where are you\ngoing, Muhammed the Discreet?\" He answered, \"I am in quest of the singing rose\nof Arab Zandyk.\" She showed him the way, saying, \"You will find before the\npalace a kid and a dog fastened, and before the kid a piece of meat and before\nthe dog a bunch of clover: lift the meat and throw it to the dog, and give the\nclover to the kid.[FN#431] Then the door will open for you: enter and pluck\nthe rose; return immediately without looking behind you, because, if you do\nso, you will be bewitched and changed into stone, like the enchanted ones who\nare there.\" Muhammed the Discreet carefully followed the instructions of the\nogress: plucked the rose, went out by the door, put back the meat before the\nkid and the clover before the dog, and carried the rose home to his sister.\n\nThen he again went to the house of the King, who saluted him and said, \"Where\nhast thou been, discreet one? Why hast thou absented thyself so long from my\nhouse?\" And he answered, \"I was sick, O King.\" Then the King took him by the\nhand and entered the garden, and both sat down. The wife of the King saw them\nseated together, and sending for the midwife she angrily asked, \"Why do you\nbefool me, old woman?\" She replied \"Have patience with me for three days more,\nO Queen.\" Then she mounted her pitcher and arriving at the house of the young\ngirl, she said, \"Has thy brother fetched thee the rose?\" \"Yes,\" answered the\ngirl, \"but it does not sing.\" Quoth the old woman, \"It only sings with its\nlooking-glass,\" and then went away. When the youth returned he found his\nsister vexed, and he asked, \"Why are you so sad, my sister?\" She replied, \"I\nshould like the looking-glass of the rose, by means of which it sings.\" Quoth\nhe, \"I obey your orders, and will bring it to you.\"\n\nMuhammed the Discreet rode on till he came to the ogress, who asked him what\nhe wanted. \"I wish,\" said he, \"the looking-glass of the rose.\" \"Well, go and\ndo with the dog and kid as you did before. When you have entered the garden\nyou will find some stairs go up them, and in the first room you come to you\nwill find the mirror suspended. Take it, and set out directly, without looking\nbehind you. If the earth shake with you, keep a brave heart, otherwise you\nwill have gone on a fruitless errand.\" He went and did according to the\ninstructions of the ogress. In taking away the mirror the earth shook under\nhim, but he made his heart as hard as an anvil and cared nothing for the\nshaking. But when he brought the mirror to his sister and she had placed it\nbefore the rose of Arab Zandyk, still the rose sang not.\n\nWhen he visited the King, he excused his absence, saying, \"I was led on a\njourney with my father, but here am I, returned once more.\" The King led him\nby the hand into the garden, and the wife of the King again perceiving him she\nsent for the midwife and demanded of her, \"Why do you mock me again, old\nwoman?\" Quoth she, \"Have patience with me for three days, O Queen; this time\nwill be the beginning and the end.\" Then she rode on her pitcher to the\nisland, and asked the young girl, \"Has thy brother brought thee the mirror?\"\n\"Yes, but still the rose sings not.\" \"Ah, it only sings with its mistress, who\nis called Arab Zandyk,\" and so saying she departed. Muhammed the Discreet on\nhis return home again found his sister disconsolate, and in answer to his\ninquiries, she said, \"I desire Arab Zandyk, mistress of the rose and of the\nmirror, that I may amuse myself with her when you are absent.\"\n\nHe at once mounted his horse and rode on till he came to the house of the\nogress. \"How fares it with you, mother ogress?\" \"What do you want now,\nMuhammed the Discreet?\" \"I wish Arab Zandyk, mistress of the rose and of the\nmirror.\" Quoth the ogress, \"Many kings and pashas have not been able to bring\nher: she hath changed them all into stone; and thou art small and poor--what\nwill become of thee?\" \"Only, my dear mother ogress show me the way, and I\nshall bring her, with the permission of God.\" Said the ogress, \"Go to the west\nside of the palace; there you will find an open window. Bring your horse under\nthe window and then cry in a loud voice, 'Descend, Arab Zandyk!'\" Muhammed the\nWary went accordingly, halted beneath the window, and cried out, \"Descend,\nArab Zandyk!\" She looked from her window scornfully and said,\" Go away, young\nman.\" Muhammed the Discreet raised his eyes and found that half of his horse\nwas changed into stone. A second time cried he in a loud voice, \"Descend, Arab\nZandyk!\" She insulted him and said, \"I tell you, go away, young man.' He\nlooked again and found his horse entirely enchanted and half of himself as\nwell. A third time he cried in a loud voice, \"I tell you, descend, Arab\nZandyk!\" She inclined herself half out of the window, and her hair fell down\nto the ground. Muhammed the Discreet seized it, twined it round his hand\npulled her out, and threw her on the earth. Then said she, \"Thou art my fate,\nMuhammed the Wary; relinquish thy hold of my hair, by the life of thy father\nthe King.\" Quoth he \"My father is a fisherman.\" \"Nay,\" she replied, \"thy\nfather is the King, by-and-by I will tell thee his history.\" Quoth he, \"I will\nleave hold of your hair when you have set at liberty the enchanted men.\" She\nmade a sign with her right arm and they were at once set free. They rushed\nheadlong towards Muhammed the Prudent to take her from him but some of them\nsaid \"Thanks to him who hath delivered us: do you still wish to take her from\nhim?\" So they left him and went their several ways.\n\nArab Zandyk then took him by the hand and led him into her castle. She gave\nher servants orders to build a palace in the midst of the isle of the\nfisherman, which being accomplished, she took Muhammed the Discreet and her\nsoldiers and proceeded thither and then she said to him, \"Go to the King, and\nwhen he asks you where you have been reply, 'I have been preparing my nuptials\nand invite you, with your army.'\" He went to the King and spoke as Arab Zandyk\nhad instructed him, upon which the King laughed and said to his vaz\u00edr, \"This\nyoung man is the son of a fisherman and comes to invite me with my army!\"\nQuoth the vaz\u00edr, \"On account of your love for him, command that the soldiers\ntake with them food for eight days, and we also will take our provender for\neight days.\" The King having issued orders to that effect, and all being\nready, they all set out and arriving at the house of the fisherman's son, they\nfound a large number of beautiful tents erected for the soldiers'\naccommodation and the King was astonished. Then came the feasting--one dainty\ndish being quickly followed by another still more delicious and the soldiers\nsaid among themselves, \"We should like to remain here for two years to eat\nmeat and not be obliged to eat only beans and lentils.\" They continued there\nforty days until the nuptials were completed, well content with their fare.\nThen the King departed with his army. The King sent a return invitation, and\nArab Zandyk commanded her soldiers to set out in order to precede her to the\ncapital. When the soldiers arrived they filled the town so that there was\nscarcely sufficient house-room for them. Then Arab Zandyk set out accompanied\nby Muhammed and his sister. They entered the royal palace, and as they\nascended the staircase, Arab Zandyk perceived the mother of Muhammed covered\nwith tar and in chains, so she threw over her a cashmere shawl and covered\nher. The servants who were standing about said to Arab Zandyk, \"Why do you\ncover her with a shawl? Spit upon her when you go up and also when you come\ndown.\" She asked, \"Why so?\" Said they, \"Because she gave birth to two dogs.\"\nThen they went to the King and said, \"A lady amongst the strangers has thrown\na cashmere shawl over her who is fastened to the staircase, and has covered\nher without spitting upon her.\" The King went and met Arab Zandyk and asked,\n\"Why have you covered her?\" Said she, \"Give orders that she be conducted to\nthe bath, cleansed, and dressed in a royal robe, after which I will relate her\nhistory.\" The King gave the required orders, and when she was decked in a\nroyal robe they conducted her into the divan. Then said the King to Arab\nZandyk, \"Tell me now the history.\" Said she, \"Listen, O King, the fisherman\nwill speak,\" and then Arab Zandyk said to the fisherman, \"Is it true that your\nwife gave birth to Muhammed and his sister at one time or at separate times?\"\nHe replied, \"My wife has no children.\" \"Where, then did you get them?\" Quoth\nhe, \"I went one morning to fish, and found them in a box on the bank of the\nriver. I took them home, and my wife brought them up.\" Arab Zandyk then said,\n\"Hast thou heard, O King?\" and turning to his wife, \"Are these thy children, O\nwoman?\" Said she, \"Tell them to uncover their heads that I may see them.\" When\nthey uncovered their heads, they were seen to have alternately hair of gold\nand hair of hyacinth. The King then asked her, \"Are these thy children?\" \"Tell\nthem to weep: if it thunders and rains, they are my children, and if it does\nnot thunder or rain, they are not mine.\" The children wept, and it thundered\nand rained. Then he asked her again, \"Are these thy children?\" And she said,\n\"Tell them to laugh: if the sun and moon appear, they are my children.\" They\ntold them to laugh, and the sun and moon appeared. Then he asked her once\nmore, \"Are these thy children?\" and she said, \"They are my children!\" Then the\nKing appointed the fisherman vaz\u00edr of his right hand, and commanded that the\ncity be illuminated for forty whole days; on the last day he caused his other\nwife and the old witch (the midwife) to be led out and burnt, and their ashes\nto be dispersed to the winds.\n\nThe variations between this and Galland's story are very considerable, it must\nbe allowed, and though the fundamental outline is the same in both, they\nshould be regarded as distinct versions of the same tale, and both are\nrepresented by Asiatic and European stories. Here the fairy Arab Zandyk plays\nthe part of the Speaking-Bird, which, however, has its equivalent in the\npreceding tale (No. x.) of Spitta Bey's collection:\n\nA man dies, leaving three sons and one daughter. The sons build a palace for\ntheir sister and mother. The girl falls in love with some one who is not\nconsidered as an eligible parti by the brothers. By the advice of an old\nwoman, the girl asks her brothers to get her the singing nightingale, in hope\nthat the bird would throw sand on them and thus send them down to the seventh\nearth. The eldest before setting out on this quest leaves his chaplet with his\nyounger brother, saying that if it shrank it would be a token that he was\ndead. Journeying through the desert some one tells him that many persons have\nbeen lost in their quest of the singing nightingale: he must hide himself till\nhe sees the bird go into its cage and fall asleep, then shut the cage and\ncarry it off. But he does not wait long enough, and tries to shut the cage\nwhile the bird's feet are still outside, so the bird takes up sand with its\nfeet and throws it on him, and he descends to the seventh earth. The second\nbrother, finding the chaplet shrunk, goes off in his turn, leaving his ring\nwith the youngest brother--if it contract on the finger it will betoken his\ndeath. He meets with the same fate as his elder brother, and now the youngest,\nfinding the ring contract, sets out, leaving with his mother a rose, which\nwill fade if he dies. He waits till the singing nightingale is asleep, and\nthen shuts him in the cage. The bird in alarm implores to be set at liberty,\nbut the youth demands first the restoration of his brothers, and the bird\ntells him to scatter on the ground some sand from beneath the cage, which he\ndoes, when only a crowd of negroes and Turks (? T\u00e1t\u00e1rs) appear, and confess\ntheir failure to capture the singing nightingale. Then the bird bids him\nscatter white sand, which being done, 500 whites and the two lost brothers\nappear and the three return home with the bird, which sings so charmingly in\nthe palace that all the people come to listen to it outside.--The rest of this\nstory tells of the amours of the girl and a black, who, at her instigation,\nkills her eldest brother, but he is resuscitated by the Water of Life.\n\nThrough the Moors, perhaps, the story found its way among the wandering tribes\n(the Kabail) of Northern Africa, who have curiously distorted its chief\nfeatures, though not beyond recognition, as will be seen from the following\nabstract of their version, from M. Riviere's collection of \"Comes Populaires\nde la Kabylie du Djurdjura\" (Paris, 1882):\n\n\n                        KABA'IL VERSION.\n\nA man has two wives, one of whom is childless, the other bears in succession\nseven sons and a daughter. The childless wife cuts off the little finger of\neach and takes them one by one into the forest, where they are brought up. An\nold woman comes one day and tells the daughter that if her brothers love her\nthey will give her a bat. The girl cries to her brothers for a bat, and one of\nthem consults an aged man, who sends him to the sea shore. He puts down his\ngun under a tree, and a bat from above cries out, \"What wild beast is this ?\"\nThe youth replies, \"You just go to sleep, old fellow.\" The bat comes down,\ntouches the gun and it becomes a piece of wood; touches the youth and he\nbecomes microscopic. This in turn happens to all the brothers, after which the\ngirl goes to the sea-shore, and when she is under the tree the bat calls out,\n\"What wild beast is this?\" But she does not answer she waits till the bat is\nasleep, then climbs the tree, and catching the \"bird\" (sic), asks it where her\nbrothers are, and on her promising to clothe the bat in silver and gold, the\ncreature touches the guns and the brothers, and they are restored to their\nproper forms. The bat then conducts them to their father's house, where he\nasks lodgings and is refused by the childless wife. The husband takes them in\nhowever and kills a sheep for their entertainment. The childless wife poisons\nthe meat, and the bat warns the children, bidding them try a cock, a dog, and\na cat with it, which is done, and the animals die. The brothers now decline\nthe food and ask that their sister be allowed to prepare somewhat for them to\neat. Then the bat touches the eyes of the children, who immediately recognise\ntheir parents, and great is the rejoicing. The childless wife is torn in\npieces by being dragged at the tail of a wild horse, and the bat, having been\ndressed in silver and gold, is sent back to his tree.\n\nSir Richard has given (p. 313, note) some particulars of the version in Hahn's\ncollection of modern Greek tales, which generally corresponds with Galland's\nstory. There is a different version in M. Legrand's \"Recueil de Contes\nPopulaires Grecs\" (Paris, 1881), which combines incidents in the modern Arabic\nstory of Arab Zandyk with some of those in Galland and some which it has\nexclusively:\n\n\n                     MODERN GREEK VERSION.\n\nThree daughters of an old woman disobey the order of the King, not to use a\nlight at night because of the scarcity of oil, and work on as usual. The King\nin going round the town to see if his order is obeyed comes to their house,\nand overhears the eldest girl express a wish that she were married to the\nroyal baker, so that she should have plenty of bread. The second wishes the\nKing's cook for her husband, to have royal meals galore. The youngest wishes\nto have the King himself, saying she would bear him as children, \"Sun,\"\n\"Moon,\" and \"Star.\" Next day the King sends for them and marries each as she\nhad wished. When the youngest brings forth the three children, in successive\nyears, her mother-in-law, on the advice of a \"wise woman,\" (? the midwife)\nsubstitutes a dog, a cat and a serpent, and causes the infants to be put in a\nbox and sent down the river, and the queen is disgraced.\n\nAn old monk, in the habit of going down to the river and taking one fish\ndaily, one day gets two fishes, and asks God the reason. In reply he is told\nthat he will henceforth have two mouths to feed. Presently, he finds the box\nwith the infant \"Sun\" in it and takes him home. Next year he gets one day\nthree fishes, and finds the infant \"Moon\", and the third year he has four\nfishes one day and finds the baby-girl, \"Star.\" When the children have grown\nup the monk sends them to town in order that they should learn the ways of the\nworld. The eldest hearing a Jew offering a box for sale, saying, \"Whoever buys\nthis box will be sorry for it, and he who does not buy it will be equally\nsorry,\" purchases it and on taking it home finds his sister weeping for the\ngolden apple which the \"wise woman\" (who had found them out) told her she must\nget. He opens the Jew's box and finds a green and winged horse in it. The\nhorse tells him how to get the golden apple from the forty guardian dragons.\nThey go and get it. After this the old woman comes again and tells the sister\nthat she must get the golden bough, on which all the birds in the world sing,\nand this also is procured by the help of the green and winged horse. A third\ntime the old trot comes and says to the girl, \"You must get Tzitzin na to\nexplain the language of birds.\" The eldest brother starts off on the horse,\nand arriving at the dwelling of Tzitzin na he calls her name, whereupon he,\nwith the horse, is turned to stone up to the knees; and calling again on her\nthey become marble to the waist. Then the youth burns a hair he had got from\nthe monk, who instantly appears, calls out \"Tzitzinaena,\" and she comes forth,\nand with the water of immortality the youth and horse are disenchanted. After\nthe youth has returned home with Tzitzin na, the King sees the three children\nand thinks them like those his wife had promised to bear him. He invites them\nto dinner, at which Tzitzin na warns them of poisoned meats, some of which\nthey give to a dog they had brought with them, and the animal dies on the\nspot. They ask the King to dine at their house and he goes. Tzitzin na by\nclapping her hands thrice procures a royal feast for him; then, having induced\nthe King to send for his wife, she tells the whole story of the\nmother-in-law's evil doings, and shows the King that \"Sun,\" \"Moon\" and \"Star\"\nare his own children. The King's mother and the old woman are torn to pieces.\n\nIn Albania, as might be expected, our story is orally current in a form which\nresembles both the Greek version, as above, and the tale of Arab Zandyk, more\nespecially the latter; and it may have been derived from the Turks, though I\nam not aware that the story has been found in Turkish. This is an abstract of\nthe second of M. Dozon's \"Comes Albanais\" (Paris, 1881), a most entertaining\ncollection:\n\n\n                       ALBANIAN VERSION.\n\nThere was a King who had three daughters. When he died, his successor\nproclaimed by the crier an order prohibiting the use of lights during the\nnight of his accession. Having made this announcement, the King disguised\nhimself and went forth alone. After walking about from place to place he came\nto the abode of the daughters of the late King, and going up close to it he\noverheard their conversation. This is what the eldest was saying, \"If the King\ntook me for his wife, I would make him a carpet upon which the whole of his\narmy could be seated and there would still be room to spare.\" Then said the\nsecond, \"If the King would take me for his wife, I would make him a tent under\nwhich the whole army could be sheltered, and room would still remain.\" Lastly,\nthe youngest said, \"If the King should espouse me, I would bring him a son and\na daughter with a star on their foreheads and a moon on their shoulders.\"\n\nThe King, who had not lost a word of this conversation, sent for the sisters\non the morrow and married all three.[FN#432] The eldest, as she had declared,\nmade a carpet on which the whole army was seated, and yet there was room to\nspare. The second, in her turn, made a tent under which all the army found\nshelter. As to the youngest, after a time, she grew great, and her confinement\napproached. The day she was delivered the King was absent, and on his return\nhe inquired what she had given birth to. The two elder sisters replied, \"A\nlittle cat and a little mouse.\" On hearing this the King ordered the mother to\nbe placed upon the staircase, and commanded every one who entered to spit upon\nher.\n\nNow she had given birth to a boy and a girl, but her two sisters, after having\nshut them up in a box, sent them away by a servant to be exposed on the bank\nof the river, and a violent wind afterwards arising, the box was drifted to\nthe other side. There was a mill on that side, where dwelt an old man and his\nwife. The old man having found the box brought it home. They opened it, and\ndiscovered the boy and girl, with a star on their foreheads and a moon on\ntheir shoulders. Astonished thereat, they took them out and brought the\nchildren up as well as they could.\n\nTime passed away; the old woman died, and soon after came the turn of the old\nman. Before dying he called the youth to him and said, \"Know, my son, that in\nsuch a place is a cave where there is a bridle which belongs to me. That\nbridle is thine, but avoid opening the cave before forty days have elapsed, if\nyou wish the bridle to do whatever you command.\" The forty days having\nexpired, the young man went to the cave, and on opening it found the bridle.\nHe took it in his hand and said to it, \"I want two horses,\" and in a moment\ntwo horses appeared. The brother and sister mounted them, and in the twinkling\nof an eye they arrived in their father's country. There the young man opened a\ncaf\u2044, and his sister remained secluded at home.\n\nAs the caf\u2044 was the best in the country, the King came to hear of it, and when\nhe entered it he saw the youth, who had a star on his forehead. He thought him\nso beautiful [and lingered so long] that he returned late to the palace, when\nhe was asked why he had tarried so late. He replied, that a young lad had\nopened a caf\u2044, and was so beautiful that he had never seen his equal; and,\nwhat was most extraordinary, there was a star on his brow. The sisters no\nsooner heard these words of the King than they understood that he referred to\ntheir younger sister's son. Full of rage and spite, they quickly devised a\nplan of causing his death. What did they do? They sent to his sister an old\nwoman, who said to her, \"Thy brother, O my daughter, can hardly love thee, for\nhe is all day at the caf\u2044 and has a good time of it, while he leaves thee here\nalone. If he truly loves thee, tell him to bring thee a flower from the Belle\nof the Earth, so that thou too mayest have something to divert thyself with.\"\nOn returning home that evening the young man found his sister quite afflicted,\nand asked the cause of her grief. \"Why should I not grieve?\" said she \"You\nleave me alone, secluded here, while you go about as your fancy directs. If\nyou love me, go to the Belle of the Earth and bring a flower, so that I too\nmay be amused.\" \"Console yourself,\" replied he, and at once gave orders to the\nbridle. An enormous horse appeared, which he mounted and set off.\n\nAs he journeyed, a lamia presented herself before him, and said, \"I have a\ngreat desire to eat thee, but thou also excitest pity, and so I leave thee thy\nlife.\" The young man then inquired of her how he could find the Belle of the\nEarth. \"I know nothing about it, my son,\" replied the lamia; \"but go ask my\nsecond sister.\" So he rode off and came to her, and she drew near, intending\nto devour him, but seeing him so beautiful, she asked where he was going. He\ntold his story and said, \"Do you know the way to the Belle of the Earth'\" But\nshe in her turn sent him to her elder sister, who on seeing him rushed out to\neat him, but like the others, was touched by his comeliness and spared him;\nand when he inquired after the Belle of the Earth, \"Take this handkerchief,\"\nsaid she, \"and when thou arrivest at her abode, use it to open the door.\nInside thou wilt see a lion and a lamb; throw brains to the lion and grass to\nthe lamb.\" So he went forward and did all the lamia advised. He tried the door\nand it opened; threw brains to the lion and grass to the lamb, and they\nallowed him to pass. He went in and pulled a flower, and he had no sooner done\nso than he found himself at his own door.\n\nGreat was his sister's joy as she began playing with the flower. But on the\nmorrow the two sisters sent the old woman to her again. \"Has he brought thee\nthe flower?\" she asked. \"Yes, he has.\" Thou art content,\" said the old hag;\n\"but if thou hadst the handkerchief of the Belle of the Earth, it would be\nquite another thing.\" When her brother came home he found her in tears, and in\nreply to his inquiries, \"What pleasure,\" said she--\"what pleasure can this\nflower give me? So long as I have not the handkerchief of the Belle of the\nEarth I shall not be happy.\" Then he, desirous that his sister should have no\ncause for grief, mounted his horse, and in the same manner as he had obtained\nthe flower, possessed himself of the handkerchief and brought it home to his\nsister.\n\nOn the morrow, when the young man had gone to his caf\u2044, the old witch again\nvisited his sister, who informed her that her brother had brought her the\nhandkerchief. \"How happy,\" said the sorceress--\"how happy thou art in having a\nbrother who brings thee whatever thou desirest! But if thou cost wish to spend\nthy life like a pasha's wife, thou must also obtain the owner of that\nhandkerchief.\"\n\nTo please his sister, the young man once more sets out, and coming to the\neldest of the lamiae and telling her his errand, \"O my son,\" said she, \"thou\ncanst go there, but as to carrying away the mistress of the handkerchief, that\nis not so easy. However, try in some way to obtain possession of her ring, for\ntherein lies all her power.\" So he continues his journey, and after passing\nthe lion and the lamb he comes to the chamber of the Belle of the Earth. He\nfinds her asleep, and approaching her noiselessly draws the ring from her\nfinger, upon which she awakes and discovering that she had not her ring, there\nwas no alternative but to submit to his will. They set out together and in the\ntwinkling of an eye arrived at the young man's house. On perceiving them the\nsister was overcome with joy.\n\nIt happened next day that the King again went to the caf\u2044, and on his return\nhome ordered supper to be prepared, saying that he had invited the young man\nand all his friends. The sisters instructed the cooks to put poison in the\nfood, which they did accordingly. At nightfall the young man arrived,\naccompanied by the Belle of the Earth, whom he had married, and his sister.\nBut none of them, notwithstanding the entreaties of the King, would touch any\nfood, for the Belle of the Earth had revealed to them that the meats were\npoisoned: they merely ate a few mouthfuls out of the King's mess.\n\nSupper over, the King invited each one to tell a story, and when it came to\nthe young man's turn, he recounted the whole story of his adventures. Then the\nKing recognised in him the son of his fairest wife, whom, deceived by the lies\nof her sisters, he had exposed on the staircase. So he instantly ordered the\ntwo sisters to be seized and cut to pieces, and he took back his wife. As for\nthe young man, he became his heir. He grew old and prospered.\n\nThe points of difference between, and the relative merits of, Galland's story\nand Straparola's\n\n\n                        ITALIAN VERSION,\n\nand whence both were probably obtained, will be considered later on, as\nseveral other versions or variants remain to be noticed or cited, before\nattempting a comparative analysis, not the least interesting of which is a\n\n\n                        BRETON VERSION.\n\nIn \"Melusine,\" for 1878, colt 206 ff., M. Luzel gives a Breton version, under\nthe title of \"Les Trois Filles du Boulanger; ou, L'Eau qui dense, la Pomme qui\nchante, et l'Oiseau de V\u2044rit\u2044,\" which does not appear to have been derived\nfrom Galland's story, although it corresponds with it closely in the first\npart. A prince overhears the conversation of three daughters of an old baker,\nwho is a widower. The eldest says that she loves the king's gardener, the\nsecond, that she loves the king's valet, and the youngest says the prince is\nher love, to whom she would bear two boys, each with a star of gold on his\nbrow, and a girl, with a star of silver. The father chides them for talking\nnonsense and sends them to bed. The following day the prince sends for the\ngirls to come to the palace one after the other, and having questioned them,\ntells the youngest that he desires to see her father. When she delivers the\nroyal message the old baker begins to shake in his shoes, and exclaims, \"I\ntold you that your frivolous remarks would come to the ears of the prince, and\nnow he sends for me to have me punished, without a doubt.\" \"No, no, dear\nfather; go to the palace and fear nothing.\" He goes, and, to be brief, the\nthree marriages duly take place. The sisters married to the royal gardener and\nvalet soon become jealous of the young queen, and when they find she is about\nto become a mother they consult a fairy, who advises them to gain over the\nmidwife and get her to substitute a little dog and throw the child into the\nriver, which is done accordingly, when the first son with the gold star is\nborn. For the second son, a dog is also substituted, and the king, as on the\nformer occasion, says, \"God's will be done: take care of the poor creature.\"\nBut when the little girl with the silver star is smuggled away and the king is\nshown a third puppy as the queen's offspring, he is enraged. \"They'll call me\nthe father of dogs!\" he exclaims, \"and not without cause.\" He orders the queen\nto be shut up in a tower and fed on bread and water. The children are picked\nup by a gardener, who has a garden close to the river, and brought up by his\nwife as their own. In course of time the worthy couple die, and the king\ncauses the children to be brought to the palace (how he came to know of them\nthe story-teller does not inform us), and as they were very pretty and had\nbeen well brought up, he was greatly pleased with them. Every Sunday they went\nto grand mass in the church, each having a ribbon on the brow to conceal the\nstars. All the folk were astonished at their beauty.\n\nOne day, when the king was out hunting, an old woman came into the kitchen of\nthe palace, where the sister happened to be, and exclaimed, \"O how cold I am,\"\nand she trembled and her teeth chattered. \"Come near the fire, my good\nmother,\" said the little girl. \"Blessings on you, my child! How beautiful you\nare! If you had but the Water that dances, the Apple that sings, and the Bird\nof Truth, you'd not have your equal on the earth.\" \"Yes, but how to obtain\nthese wonders?\" \"You have two brothers who can procure them for you,\" and so\nsaying, the old woman went away. When she told her brothers what the old woman\nhad said, the eldest before setting out in quest of the three treasures leaves\na poignard which as long as it can be drawn out of its sheath would betoken\nhis welfare. One day it can't be drawn out, so the second brother goes off,\nleaving with his sister a rosary, as in Galland. When she finds the beads\nwon't run on the string, she goes herself, on horseback, as a cavalier. She\ncomes to a large plain, and in a hollow tree sees a little old man with a\nbeard of great length, which she trims for him. The old man tells her that 60\nleagues distant is an inn by the roadside; she may enter it, and having\nrefreshed herself with food and drink leave her horse there, and promise to\npay on her return After quitting the inn she will see a very high mountain, to\nclimb which will require hands and feet, and she'll have to encounter a\nfurious storm of hail and snow, it will be bitterly cold: take care and not\nlose courage, but mount on. She'll see on either side a number of stone\npillars--persons like herself who have been thus transformed because they lost\nheart. On the summit is a plain, bordered with flowers, blooming as in May.\nShe will see a gold seat under an apple-tree and should sit down and make it\nappear as if asleep; presently the bird will descend from branch to branch and\nenter the cage; quickly close it on the bird, for it is the Bird of Truth. Cut\na branch of the tree, with an apple on it, for it is the Apple that sings.\nLastly, there is also the fountain of water which dances: fill a flask from\nthe fountain and in descending the hill sprinkle a few drops of the water on\nthe stone pillars and the enchanted young princes and knights will come to\nlife again. Such were the instructions of the little old man, for which the\nprincess thanked him and went on her way. Arriving at the summit of the\nmountain, she discovered the cage and sitting down under the tree feigned to\nbe asleep, when presently the merle entered and she at once rose up and closed\nit. The merle, seeing that he was a prisoner, said, \"You have captured me,\ndaughter of the King of France. Many others have tried to seize me, but none\nhas been able till now, and you must have been counselled by some one.\" The\nprincess then cut a branch of the tree with an apple on it, filled her flask\nwith water from the fountain that danced, and as she went down the hill\nsprinkled a few drops on the stone pillars, which were instantly turned into\nprinces, dukes, barons, and knights, and last of all her two brothers came to\nlife, but they did not know her. All pressed about the princess, some saying,\n\"Give me the Water which dances,\" others, \"Give me the Apple which sings,\" and\nothers, \"Give me the Bird of Truth.\" But she departed quickly, carrying with\nher the three treasures, and passing the inn where she had left her horse she\npaid her bill and returned home, where she arrived long before her brothers.\nWhen at length they came home she embraced them, saying, \"Ah, my poor\nbrothers! How much anxiety you have caused me! How long your journey has\nlasted! But God be praised that you are back here again.\" \"Alas, my poor\nsister, we have indeed remained a long time away, and after all have not\nsucceeded in our quest. But we may consider ourselves fortunate in having been\nable to return.\" \"How!\" said the princess, \"do you not bring me the Water\nwhich dances, the Apple which sings, and the Bird of Truth?\" \"Alas! my poor\nsister, a young knight who was a stranger to us carried them all away--curse\nthe rascal.\" The old king who had no children (or rather, who believed he had\nnone) loved the two brothers and the sister very much and was highly delighted\nto see them back again. He caused a grand feast to be prepared, to which he\ninvited princes, dukes, marquises, barons, and generals. Towards the end of\nthe banquet the young girl placed on the table the Water, the Apple, and the\nBird, and bade each do its duty, whereupon the Water began to dance, and the\nApple began to sing, and the Bird began to hop about the table, and all\npresent, in ecstasy, mouth and eyes wide open, looked and listened to these\nwonders. Never before had they seen such a sight. \"To whom belong these\nmarvels?\" said the king when at length he was able to speak. \"To me, sire,\"\nreplied the young girl. \"Is that so?\" said the King. \"And from whom did you\nget them?\" \"I myself procured them with much trouble,\" answered she. Then the\ntwo brothers knew that it was their sister who had delivered them. As to the\nking, he nearly lost his head in his joy and admiration. \"My crown and my\nkingdom for your wonders, and you yourself, my young girl, shall be my queen,\"\nhe exclaimed. \"Patience for a little, sire,\" said she, \"until you have heard\nmy bird speak-- the Bird of Truth, for he has important things to reveal to\nyou. My little bird, now speak the truth.\" \"I consent,\" replied the bird; \"but\nlet no one go out of this room,\" and all the doors were closed. The old\nsorceress of a midwife and one of the king's sisters- in-law were present, and\nbecame very uneasy at hearing these words. \"Come now, my bird,\" then said the\ngirl, \"speak the truth,\" and this is what the bird said: \"Twenty years ago,\nsire, your wife was shut up in a tower, abandoned by everybody, and you have\nlong believed her to be dead. She has been accused unjustly.\" The old midwife\nand the king's sister-in-law now felt indisposed and wished to leave the room.\n\"Let no one depart hence,\" said the king. \"Continue to speak the truth, my\nlittle bird.\" \"You have had two sons and a daughter, sire,\" the bird went on\nto say--\"all three born of your lady, and here they are! Remove their bandages\nand you will see that each of them has a star on the forehead.\" They removed\nthe bandages and saw a gold star on the brow of each of the boys and a silver\nstar on the girl's brow. \"The authors of all the evil,\" continued the bird,\n\"are your two sisters-in-law and this midwife--this sorceress of the devil.\nThey have made you believe that your wife only gave birth to little dogs, and\nyour poor children were exposed on the Seine as soon as they were born. When\nthe midwife--that sorceress of hell--learned that the children had been saved\nand afterwards brought to the palace, she sought again to destroy them.\nPenetrating one day into the palace, disguised as a beggar, and affecting to\nbe perishing from cold and hunger, she incited in the mind of the princess the\ndesire to possess the Dancing-Water, the Singing Apple, and the Bird of Truth-\n-myself. Her two brothers went, one after the other, in quest of these things,\nand the sorceress took very good care that they should never return. Nor would\nthey have returned, if their sister had not succeeded in delivering them after\ngreat toil and trouble.\" As the bird ended his story, the king became\nunconscious, and when he revived he went himself to fetch the queen from the\ntower. He soon returned with her to the festive chamber, holding her by the\nhand. She was beautiful and gracious as ever, and having ate and drank a\nlittle, she died on the spot. The king, distraught with grief and anger,\nordered a furnace to be heated, and threw into it his sister-in-law and the\nmidwife--\"ce tison de l'enfer!\" As to the princess and her two brothers, I\nthink they made good marriages all three, and as to the bird, they do not say\nif it continues still to speak the truth;--\"mats je pr\u2044sume que oui, puisque\nce n'\u2044tait pas un homme!\"\n\nIt would indeed be surprising did we not find our story popularly known\nthroughout Germany in various forms. Under the title of \"The Three Little\nBirds\" a version is given in Grimm's K. u. H. M. (No. 96, vol. i. of Mrs.\nHunt's English translation), which reproduces the chief particulars of\nGalland's tale with at least one characteristic German addition;\n\n\n                        GERMAN VERSION.\n\nA king, who dwelt on the Keuterberg, was out hunting one day, when he was seen\nby three young girls who were watching their cows on the mountain, and the\neldest, pointing to him, calls out to the two others, \"If I do not get that\none, I'll have none;\" the second, from another part of the hill, pointing to\nthe one who was on the king's right hand, cries \"If I don't get that one, I'll\nhave none;\" and the youngest, pointing to the one who was on the king's left\nhand, shouts, \"And if I don't get him, I'll have none.\" When the king has\nreturned home he sends for the three girls, and after questioning them as to\nwhat they had said to each other about himself and his two ministers, he takes\nthe eldest girl for his own wife and marries the two others to the ministers.\nThe king was very fond of his wife, for she was fair and beautiful of face,\nand when he had to go abroad for a season he left her in charge of the two\nsisters who were the wives of his ministers, as she was about to become a\nmother. Now the two sisters had no children, and when the queen gave birth to\na boy who \"brought a red star into the world with him,\" they threw him into\nthe river, whereupon a little bird flew up into the air, singing:\n\n          \"To thy death art thou sped,\n          Until God's word be said.\n          In the white lily bloom,\n          Brave boy, is thy tomb.\"\n\nWhen the king came home they told him his queen had been delivered of a dog,\nand he said, \"What God does is well done.\" The same thing happens the two\nfollowing years: when the queen had another little boy, the sisters\nsubstituted a dog and the king said \"What God does is well done;\" but when she\nwas delivered of a beautiful little girl, and they told the king she had this\ntime borne a cat, he grew angry and ordered the poor queen to be thrown into\nprison. On each occasion a fisherman who dwelt near the river drew the child\nfrom the water soon after it was thrown in, and having no children, his wife\nlovingly reared them. When they had grown up, the eldest once went with some\nother boys to fish, and they would not have him with them, saying to him, \"Go\naway, foundling.\" The boy, much grieved, goes to the fisherman and asks\nwhether he is a foundling, and the old man tells him the whole story, upon\nwhich the youth, spite of the fisherman's entreaties, at once sets off to seek\nhis father. After walking for many days he came to a great river, by the side\nof which was an old woman fishing. He accosted her very respectfully, and she\ntook him on her back and carried him across the water. When a year had gone\nby, the second boy set out in search of his brother, and the same happened to\nhim as to the elder one. Then the girl went to look for her two brothers, and\ncoming to the water she said to the old woman, \"Good day, mother. May God help\nyou with your fishing.\" (The brothers had said to her that she would seek long\nenough before she caught any fish, and she replied, \"And thou wilt seek long\nenough before thou findest thy father\"--hence their failure in their quest.)\n\nWhen the old woman heard that, she became quite friendly, and carried her over\nthe water, gave her a wand, and said to her, \"Go, my daughter, ever onwards by\nthis road and when you come to a great black dog, you must pass it silently\nand boldly, without either laughing or looking at it. Then you will come to a\ngreat high castle, on the threshold of which you must let the wand fall, and\ngo straight through the castle and out again on the other side. There you will\nsee an old fountain out of which a large tree has grown whereon hangs a bird\nin a cage, which you must take down. Take likewise a glass of water out of the\nfountain, and with these two things go back by the same way. Pick up the wand\nagain from the threshold and take it with you, and when you again pass by the\ndog strike him in the face with it, but be sure that you hit him, and then\njust come back here to me.\" The maiden found everything exactly as the old\nwoman had said, and on her way hack she found her two brothers who had sought\neach other over half the world. They went together where the black dog was\nlying on the road; she struck it in the face and it turned into a handsome\nprince, who went with them to the river. There the old woman was still\nstanding. She rejoiced much to see them again, and carried them all over the\nwater, and then she too went away, for now she was freed. The others, however,\nwent to the old fisherman, and all were glad that they had found each other\nagain, and they hung the bird in its cage on the wall. But the second son\ncould not settle at home, and took his cross-bow and went a-hunting. When he\nwas tired he took his flute and played on it. The king happened to be also\nhunting, and hearing the music went up to the youth and said, \"Who has given\nthee leave to hunt here?\" \"O. no one.\" \"To whom dost thou belong, then?\" \"I am\nthe fisherman's son.\" \"But he has no children.\" \"If thou wilt not believe it,\ncome with me.\" The king did so, and questioned the fisherman, who told the\nwhole story, and the little bird on the wall began to sing:\n\n          \"The mother sits alone\n             There in the prison small;\n          O King of the royal blood,\n             These are thy children all.\n\n          The sisters twain, so false,\n             They wrought the children woe,\n          There in the waters deep,\n             Where the fishers come and go.\"\n\nThen the king took the fisherman, the three little children, and the bird back\nwith him to the castle, and ordered his wife to be taken out of prison and\nbrought before him. She had become very ill and weak, but her daughter gave\nher some of the water of the fountain to drink and she became strong and\nhealthy. But the two false sisters were burnt, and the maiden was married to\nthe Prince.\n\nEven in Iceland, as already stated, the same tale has long cheered the hardy\npeasant's fire-side circle, while the \"wind without did roar and rustle.\" That\nit should have reached that out-of-the-way country through Galland's version\nis surely inconceivable, notwithstanding the general resemblance which it\nbears to the \"Histoire des S\u00a3urs jalouses de leur Cadette.\" It is found in\nPowell and Magn\u00fasson's \"Legends of Iceland,\" second series, and as that\nexcellent work is not often met with (and why so, I cannot understand),\nmoreover, as the story is told with much na\u00a5vet\u2044, I give it here in full:\n\n\n                       ICELANDIC VERSION.\n\nNot very far from a town where dwelt the king lived once upon a time a farmer.\nHe was well to do and had three daughters; the eldest was twenty years of age,\nthe two others younger, but both marriageable. Once, when they were walking\noutside their father's farm, they saw the king coming riding on horseback with\ntwo followers, his secretary and his bootmaker. The king was unmarried, as\nwere also those two men. When they saw him, the eldest of the sisters said, \"I\ndo not wish anything higher than to be the wife of the king's shoemaker.\" Said\nthe second, \"And I of the king's secretary.\" Then the youngest said? \"I wish\nthat I were the wife of the king himself.\" Now the king heard that they were\ntalking together, and said to his followers, \"I will go to the girls yonder\nand know what it is they were talking about. It seemed to me that I heard one\nof them say, 'The king himself.\"' His followers said that what the girls had\nbeen chattering about could hardly be of much importance. The king did not\nheed this, however, but declared that they would all go to the girls and have\na talk with them. This they did. The king then asked what they had been\ntalking about a moment ago, when he and his men passed them. The sisters were\nunwilling to tell the truth, but being pressed hard by the king, did so at\nlast. Now as the damsels pleased the king, and he saw that they were both\nhandsome and fair-spoken particularly the youngest of them, he said that all\nshould be as they had wished it. The sisters were amazed at this, but the\nking's will must be done.\n\nSo the three sisters were married, each to the husband she had chosen. But\nwhen the youngest sister had become queen, the others began to cast on her\nlooks of envy and hatred, and would have her, at any cost, dragged down from\nher lofty position. And they laid a plot for the accomplishment of this their\nwill. When the queen was going to be confined for the first time, her sisters\ngot leave to act as her midwives. But as soon as the child was born they hid\nit away, and ordered it to be thrown into a slough into which all the filth\nwas cast. But the man to whom they had entrusted this task could not bring\nhimself to do it, so put the child on the bank of the slough, thinking that\nsome one might find it and save its life. And so it fell out; for an old man\nchanced to pass the slough soon afterwards and finding a crying child on the\nbank, thought it a strange find, took it up and brought it to his home,\ncherishing it as he could. The queen's sisters took a whelp and showed it to\nthe king as his queen's offspring. The king was grieved at this tale, but,\nbeing as fond of the queen as of his own life, he restrained his anger and\npunished her not.\n\nAt the second and third confinement of the queen her sisters played the same\ntrick: they exposed the queen's children in order to have them drowned in the\nslough. The man however, always left them on the bank, and it so happened that\nthe same old earl always passed by and took up the children, and carried them\nhome, and brought them up as best he could. The queen's sisters said that the\nsecond time the queen was confined she had given birth to a kitten, and the\nthird time, to a log of wood. At this the king waxed furiously wroth, and\nordered the queen to be thrown into the house where he kept a lion as he did\nnot wish this monster to fill his kingdom with deformities. And the sisters\nthought that they had managed their boat well and were proud of their success.\nThe lion, however, did not devour the queen, but even gave her part of his\nfood and was friendly towards her and thus the queen lived with the lion, a\nwretched enough life without anybody's knowing anything about it.\n\nNow the story turns to the old man who fostered the king's children. The\neldest of these, a boy, he called Vilhj\u00e1mr, the second, also a boy, Sigurdr;\nthe third child was a girl and her name was unknown. All that came to him, or\nwith whom he met, the old man would ask if they knew nothing of the children\nhe had found on the bank of the slough. But no one seemed to have the faintest\nnotion about their birth or descent. As the children grew up they were hopeful\nand fine-looking. The earl had now waxed very old, and, expecting his end, he\ngave the children this rede, always to ask every one to whom they spoke for\nnews of their family and birth, in order that they might perchance be able at\nlast to trace out the truth. He himself told them all he knew about the\nmatter. After this the old man died, and the children followed closely his\nadvice. Once there came to them an old man, of whom they asked the same\nquestions as of all others. He said he could not give them any hints on the\nmatter himself, but that he could point out one to them who was able to do so.\nHe told them that a short way from their farm was a large stone, whereupon was\nalways sitting a bird which could both understand and speak the tongue of men.\nIt would be best for them, he went on, to find this bird; but there was a\ndifficulty in the matter to be got over first, for many had gone there but\nnone had ever returned. He said that many king's children had gone to this\nbird in order to know their future fate, but they had all come short in the\nvery thing needed. He told them that whosoever wanted to mount the stone must\nbe so steady as never to look back, whatever he might hear or see, or whatever\nwonders seemed to take place around the rock. All who did not succeed in this\nwere changed into stones, together with everything they had with them. This\nsteadiness no one had had yet, but whosoever had it could easily mount the\nrock, and having once done so would be able to quicken all the others who have\nbeen turned to stone there. For the top of the rock was flat, and there was a\ntrap-door on it, wherein the bird was sitting. Underneath the trap-door was\nwater, the nature of which was that it would turn all the stones back to life\nagain. The old man ended by saying, \"Now he who succeeds in getting to the top\nis allowed by the bird to take the water and sprinkle the stone-changed folk,\nand call them to life again, just as they were before.\" This the king's\nchildren thought no hard task. The brothers, however, were the most outspoken\nabout the easiness of the thing. They thanked the old man much for his story\nand took leave of him.\n\nNot long after this, Vilhj\u00e1mr, the eldest brother, went to the rock. But\nbefore he left he said to his brother, that if three drops of blood should\nfall on his knife at table while he was away, Sigurdr should at once come to\nthe rock, for then it would be sure that he fared like the others. So Vilhj\u00e1mr\nwent away, following the old man's directions, and nothing further is told of\nhim for a while. But after three days, or about the time when his brother\nshould have reached the stone, three drops of blood fell upon Sigurdr's knife,\nonce, while at table. He was startled at this and told his sister that he must\nneeds leave her, in order to help his brother. He made the same agreement with\nhis sister as Vilhj\u00e1mr had before made with him. Then he went away, and, to\nmake the story short, all came to the same issue with him as with his brother,\nand the blood-drops fell on his sister's knife, at the time when Sigurdr\nshould have reached the stone.\n\nThen the damsel went herself, to see what luck she might have. She succeeded\nin finding the rock, and when she came there she was greatly struck with the\nnumber of stones that surrounded it, in every shape and position. Some had the\nform of chests, others of various animals, while some again were in other\nforms. She paid no heed to all this, but going straight forward to the great\nrock began climbing it. Then she heard, all of a sudden, behind her a loud\nmurmur of human voices, all talking, one louder than another, and amongst the\nnumber she heard those of her brothers. But she paid no heed to this, and took\ngood care never to look back, in spite of all she heard going on behind her.\nThen she got at last to the top of the rock, and the bird greatly praised her\nsteadiness and constancy and promised both to tell her anything she chose to\nask him and to assist her in every way he could. First, she would have the\nsurrounding stones recalled to their natural shapes and life. This the bird\ngranted her, pointing to one of the stones and saying, \"Methinks you would\nfree that one from his spell, if you knew who he was.\" So the king's daughter\nsprinkled water over all the stones and they returned to life again, and\nthanked her for their release with many fair words. Next she asked the bird\nwho were the parents of herself and her brothers, and to whom they might trace\ntheir descent. The bird said that they were the children of the king of that\ncountry, and told her how the queen's sisters had acted by them at their\nbirth, and last of all told her how her mother was in the lion's den, and how\nshe was nearer dead than alive from sorrow and want of good food and comfort.\n\nThe stone which the bird had pointed out to the princess was a king's son, as\nnoble as he was handsome. He cast affectionate looks to his life-giver and it\nwas plain that each loved the other. It was he who had brought the greater\npart of the chest-shaped stones thither, the which were coffers full of gold\nand jewels. When the bird had told to every one that which each wanted to\nknow, all the company of the disenchanted scattered, the three children and\nthe wealthy prince going together. When they came home the first thing they\ndid was to break into the lion's den. They found their mother lying in a\nswoon, for she had lost her senses on hearing the house broken into. They took\nher away, and she soon afterwards recovered. Then they dressed her in fitting\nattire, and taking her to the palace asked audience of the king. This granted,\nVilhj\u00e1mr, Sigurdr, and their sister declared to the king that they were his\nchildren and that they had brought with them their mother from the lion's den.\nThe king was amazed at this story and at all that had happened. The sisters of\nthe queen were sent for and questioned, and, having got into scrapes by\ndiffering in accounts, confessed at last their misdeed and told the truth.\nThey were thrown before the same lion that the queen had been given to, and it\ntore them to pieces immediately and ate them up, hair and all.\n\nNow the queen took her former rank, and a banquet was held in joy at this\nhappy turn of affairs, and for many days the palace resounded with the glee of\nthe feast. And at the end of it the foreign prince wooed the king's daughter\nand gained easily her hand, and thus the banquet was begun afresh and became\nthe young people's marriage-feast. Such glee has never been witnessed in any\nother kingdom. After the feast the strange prince returned to his home with\nhis bride and became king after his father. Vilhj\u00e1mr also married and took the\nkingdom after his father. Sigurdr married a king's daughter abroad, and became\nking after the death of his father-in-law; and all of them lived in luck and\nprosperity. And now is the story ended.\n\nFrom bleak Iceland to sunny India is certainly a \"far cry,\" but we had already\ngot half-way thither in citing the Egypto-Arabian versions, and then turned\nwestwards and northwards. We must now, however, go all the way to Bengal for\nour next form of the story, which is much simpler in construction than any of\nthe foregoing versions, and may be considered as a transition stage of the\ntale in its migration to Europe. This is an abridgment of the story--not of\nEnvious Sisters but of jealous co-wives--from the Rev. Lal Bahari Day's\n\"Folk-Tales of Bengal,''[FN#434] a work of no small value to students of the\ngenealogy of popular fictions:\n\n\n                        BENGALI VERSION.\n\nA certain King had six wives, none of whom had children, in spite of doctors\nand all sorts of doctors' stuff. He was advised by his ministers to take a\nseventh wife. There was in the city a poor woman who earned her livelihood by\ngathering cow-dung from the fields kneading it into cakes, which, after drying\nin the sun, she sold for fuel. She had a very beautiful daughter, who had\ncontracted friendship with three girls much above her rank namely, the\ndaughter of the King's minister, the daughter of a rich merchant, and the\ndaughter of the King's chaplain. It happened one day that all four were\nbathing together in a tank near the palace, and the King overheard them\nconversing as follows: Said the minister's daughter, \"The man who marries me\nwon't need to buy me any clothes, for the cloth I once put on never gets\nsoiled, never gets old, and never tears.\" The merchant's daughter said, \"And\nmy husband will also be a happy man, for the fuel which I use in cooking never\nturns to ashes, but serves from day to day, and from year to year.\" Quoth the\nchaplain's daughter, \"My husband too will be a happy man, for when once I cook\nrice it never gets finished; no matter how much we may eat, the original\nquantity always remains in the pot.\"[FN#434] Then said the poor woman's\ndaughter, \"And the man who marries me will also be happy, for I shall give\nbirth to twin children, a son and a daughter; the girl will be divinely\nbeautiful, and the boy will have a moon on his forehead and stars on the palms\nof his hands.\"\n\nThe King didn't care to have any of the three young ladies, but resolved at\nonce to marry the fourth girl, who would present him with such extraordinary\ntwin children, notwithstanding her humble birth, and their nuptials were\ncelebrated in due form, much to the chagrin of his six wives. Some time after\nthe King had occasion to go for six months to another part of his dominions,\nand when about to set out he told his new wife that he expected her to be\nconfined before the period of his absence was expired, and that he would like\nto be present with her at the time, lest her enemies (her co-wives) might do\nher some injury. So giving her a golden bell he bade her hang it in her room,\nand when the pains of labour came on to ring it, and he would be with her in a\nmoment, no matter where he might be at the time; but she must only ring it\nwhen her labour pains began. The six other wives had overheard all this, and\nthe day after the King had departed went to the new wife's room and affected\nto admire the golden bell, and asked her where she got it and what was its\nuse. The unsuspecting creature told them its purpose, upon which they all\nexclaimed that it was impossible the King could hear it ring at the distance\nof hundreds of miles, and besides, how could the King travel such a distance\nin the twinkling of an eye? They urged her to ring the bell and convince\nherself that what the King had said to her was all nonsense. So she rang the\nbell, and the King instantly appeared, and seeing her going about as usual, he\nasked her why she had summoned him before her time. Without saying anything\nabout the six other wives, she replied that she had rung the bell merely out\nof curiosity to know if what he had said was true. The King was angry, and,\ntelling her distinctly she was not to ring the bell until the labour pains\ncame upon her, went away again. Some weeks after the six wives once more\ninduced her to ring the bell, and when the King appeared and found she was not\nabout to be confined and that she had been merely making another trial of the\nbell (for, as on the former occasion, she did not say that her co-wives had\ninstigated her), he was greatly enraged, and told her that even should she\nring when in the throes of childbirth he should not come to her, and then went\naway. At last the day of her confinement arrived, and when she rang the bell\nthe King did not come.[FN#435] The six jealous wives seeing this went to her\nand said that it was not customary for the ladies of the palace to be confined\nin the royal apartments, and that she must go to a hut near the stables. They\nthen sent for the midwife of the palace, and heavily bribed her to make away\nwith the infant the moment it was born. The seventh wife gave birth, as she\nhad promised, to a son who had a moon on his forehead and stars on the palms\nof his hands, and also to an uncommonly beautiful girl. The midwife had come\nprovided with a couple of newly-littered pups, which she set before the\nmother, saying, \"You have given birth to these,\" and took away the\ntwin-children in an earthen vessel, while the mother was insensible. The King,\nthough he was angry with his seventh wife, yet recollecting that she was to\ngive birth to an heir to his throne, changed his mind, and came to see her the\nnext morning. The pups were produced before the King as the offspring of his\nnew wife, and great was his anger and vexation. He gave orders that she should\nbe expelled from the palace, clothed in leather, and employed in the\nmarket-place to drive away crows and keep off dogs, all of which was done\naccordingly.\n\nThe midwife placed the vessel containing the twins along with the unburnt clay\nvessels which a potter had set in order and then gone to sleep, intending to\nget up during the night and light his furnace; in this way she thought the\nlittle innocents would be reduced to ashes. It happened, however, that the\npotter and his wife overslept themselves that night, and it was near daybreak\nwhen the woman awoke and roused her husband. She then hastened to the furnace,\nand to her surprise found all the pots thoroughly baked, although no fire had\nbeen applied to them. Wondering at such good luck, she summoned her husband,\nwho was equally astonished and pleased, and attributed it all to some\nbenevolent deity. In turning over the pots he came upon the one in which the\ntwins were placed, and the wife looking on them as a gift from heaven (for she\nhad no children) carried them into the house and gave out to the neighbours\nthat they had been borne by herself. The children grew in stature and in\nstrength and when they played in the fields were the admiration of every one\nthat saw them. They were about twelve years of age when the potter died, and\nhis wife threw herself on the pyre and was burnt with her husband's body. The\nboy with the moon on his forehead (which he always kept concealed with a\nturban, lest it should attract notice) and his beautiful sister now broke up\nthe potter's establishment, sold his wheel and pots and pans, and went to the\nbazar in the King's city, which they had no sooner entered than it was lit up\nbrilliantly. The shopkeepers thought them divine beings and built a house for\nthem in the bazar. And when they used to ramble about they were always\nfollowed at a distance by the woman clothed in leather who was appointed by\nthe King to drive away the crows, and by some strange impulse, she also used\nto hang about their house.\n\nThe youth presently bought a horse and went hunting in the neighbouring\njungles. It happened one day, while following the chase, that the King met\nhim, and, struck with his beauty, felt an unaccountable yearning for\nhim.[FN#436] As a deer went past the youth shot an arrow and in so doing his\nturban fell off, on which a bright light, like that of the moon, was seen\nshining on his forehead. When the King perceived this, it brought to his mind\nthe son with the moon on his forehead and stars on the palms of his hands who\nwas to have been born of his seventh queen, and would have spoken with the\nyouth, but he immediately galloped off. When the King reached home his six\nwives observing his sadness asked him its cause, and he told them of the youth\nhe had seen in the forest with a moon on his forehead. They began to wonder if\nthe twins were not still alive, and sending for the midwife closely questioned\nher as to the fate of the children. She stoutly declared that she had herself\nseen them burnt to ashes, but she would find out who the youth was whom the\nKing had met while hunting. She soon ascertained that two strangers were\nliving in a house in the bazar which the shopkeepers had built for them, and\nwhen she entered the house the girl was alone, her brother having gone into\nthe jungle to hunt. Pretending to be her aunt, the old woman said to her, \"My\ndear child, you are so beautiful, you require only the kataki[FN#437] flower\nto properly set off your charms. You should tell your brother to plant a row\nof that flower in your courtyard.\" \"I never saw that flower,\" said the girl\n\"Of course not; how could you? It does not grow in this country, but on the\nother side of the ocean. Your brother may try and get it for you, if you ask\nhim.\" This suggestion the old trot made in the hope that the lad would lose\nhis life in venturing to obtain the flower. When he returned and his sister\ntold him of the visit of their aunt and asked him to get her the kataki\nflower, on which she had set her heart, he at once consented, albeit he\nthought the woman had imposed upon his sister by calling herself their aunt.\n\nNext morning he rode off on his fleet horse, and arriving on the borders of an\nimmense forest he saw a number of r\u00e1kshas\u00ed[FN#438] roaming about, he went\naside and shot with his arrows some deer and rhinoceroses and then approaching\nthe r\u00e1kshas\u00eds called out, \"O auntie dear, your nephew is here.\" A huge\nr\u00e1kshas\u00ed strode towards him and said, \"O. you are the youth with the moon on\nyour forehead and stars on the palms of your hands. We were all expecting you,\nbut as you have called me aunt, I will not eat you. What is it you want? Have\nyou brought anything for me to eat?\" The youth gave her the game he had\nkilled, and she began devouring it. After swallowing all the carcases she\nsaid, \"Well, what do you want?\" He answered, \"I want some kataki flowers for\nmy sister.\" She told him it would be very difficult for him to get them, as\nthey were guarded by seven hundred r\u00e1kshasas, but if he was determined to\nattempt it, he had better first go to his uncle on the north side of the\nJungle. He goes, and greets the r\u00e1kshasa, calling him uncle, and having\nregaled him with deer and rhinoceroses as he had done his \"aunt,\" the r\u00e1kshasa\ntells him that in order to obtain the flower he must go through an\nimpenetrable forest of kachiri,[FN#439] and say to it \"O mother kachiri, make\nway for me, else I perish,\" upon which a passage will be opened for him. Next\nhe will come to the ocean, which he must petition in the same terms, and it\nwould make a way for him. After crossing the ocean he'll come to the gardens\nwhere the kataki blooms. The forest opens a passage for the youth, and the\nocean stands up like two walls on either side of him, so that he passes over\ndryshod.[FN#440] He enters the gardens and finds himself in a grand palace\nwhich appeared unoccupied. In one of the apartments he sees a young damsel of\nmore than earthly beauty asleep on a golden bed, and going near discovers a\nstick of gold lying near her head and a stick of silver near her feet. Taking\nthem in his hand, by accident the gold stick fell upon the feet of the\nsleeping beauty, when she instantly awoke, and told him she knew that he was\nthe youth with the moon on his forehead and stars on the palms of his hands;\nthat the seven hundred r\u00e1kshasas who guarded the kataki flowers were then out\nhunting, but would return by sundown, and should they find him they'd eat him.\nA r\u00e1kshas\u00ed had brought her from her father's palace, and is so fond of her\nthat she will not allow her to return home. By means of the gold and silver\nsticks the r\u00e1kshas\u00ed kills her when she goes off in the morning, and by means\nof them also she is revived when she comes back in the evening. He had better\nflee and save his life. But the youth told her he would not go away without\nthe kataki flower, moreover, that he would take her also with him. They spent\nthe day in walking about the gardens, and when it was drawing near the time\nfor the return of the r\u00e1kshasas, the youth concealed himself under a great\nheap of the kataki flower which was in one of the rooms, having first \"killed\"\nthe damsel by touching her head with the golden stick. The return of the seven\nhundred r\u00e1kshasas was like the noise of a mighty tempest. One of them entered\nthe damsel's room and revived her, saying at the same time, \"I smell a human\nbeing!\"[FN#441] The damsel replied, \"How can a human being come to this\nplace?\" and the r\u00e1kshasa was satisfied. During the night the damsel worms out\nof the r\u00e1kshas\u00ed who was her mistress the secret that the lives of the seven\nhundred r\u00e1kshasas depended on the lives of a male and female bee, which were\nin a wooden box at the bottom of a tank, and that the only person who could\nseize and kill those bees was a youth with a moon on his forehead and stars on\nthe palms of his hands--but there could be no such youth, and so their lives\nwere safe.[FN#442] When the r\u00e1kshasas had all gone out as usual next morning,\nthe damsel, having been revived by the youth, told him how the demons could be\nkilled, and, to be brief, he was not slow to put her directions into practice.\nAfter the death of the seven hundred r\u00e1kshasas, the youth took some of the\nkataki flowers and left the palace accompanied by the beautiful damsel, whose\nname was Pushpavati. They passed through the ocean and forest of kachiri in\nsafety, and arriving at the house in the baz\u00e1r the youth with the moon on his\nforehead presented the kataki flower to his sister. Going out to hunt the next\nday, he met the king, and his turban again falling off as he shot an arrow,\nthe King saw the moon on his forehead and desired his friendship. The youth\ninvited the King to his house, and he went thither at midday. Pushpavati then\ntold the King (for she knew the whole story from first to last) how his\nseventh wife had been induced by his six other wives to ring the bell twice\nneedlessly; how she gave birth to a boy and a girl, and pups were substituted\nfor them, how the twins were miraculously saved and brought up in the house of\na potter, and so forth. When she had concluded the King was highly enraged,\nand next day caused his six wicked wives to be buried alive. The seventh queen\nwas brought from the market-place and reinstated in the palace, and the youth\nwith a moon on his forehead and stars on the palms of his hands lived happily\nwith his beautiful twin-sister.\n\nIn two other Hind\u00fa versions known to me--but the story is doubtless as widely\nspread over India as we have seen it to be over Europe--only the leading idea\nof Galland's tale reappears, though one of them suggests the romance of\n\"Helyas, the Knight of the Swan,\" namely, the story called \"Truth's Triumph,\"\nin Miss Frere's \"Old Deccan Days,\" p. 55 ff. Here a r\u00e1j\u00e1 and his minister\nwalking together come to a large garden, where is a bringal- tree bearing 100\nfruits but having no leaves, and the minister says to the r\u00e1j\u00e1 that whosoever\nshould marry the gardener's daughter should have by her 100 boys and one girl.\nThe r\u00e1j\u00e1 espoused the maiden, much to the vexation of the 12 wives he had\nalready, and then follows a repetition of the golden bell affair! as in the\nBengali version. Drapadi Bai, the gardener's daughter and the new r\u00e1n\u00ed, gives\nbirth \"right off\" to 100 sons and a daughter, all of whom are thrown by the\nnurse on a dust-heap in which are a great number of rat-holes, the jealous\nco-wives fully expecting that the voracious rodents would quickly eat them up.\nThe nurse tells the young r\u00e1n\u00ed that her children had turned into stones; such\nis also the story the 12 co-wives tell the r\u00e1j\u00e1 on his return, and he orders\nthe poor Drapadi Bai to be imprisoned for life. But the rats, so far from\ndevouring the children, nourished them with the utmost care. It comes to the\nknowledge of the 12 co-wives that the children are still alive, they are\ndiscovered and turned into crows--all save the little girl, who luckily\nescapes the fate of her 100 brothers, gets married to a great r\u00e1j\u00e1, and has a\nson named Ramchandra, who effected the restoration to human form of his\ncrow-uncles by means of magic water which he obtained from a r\u00e1kshas\u00ed.\n\nThe other story referred to is No. xx of Miss Stokes' \"Indian Fairy Tales,\"\nwhich Mr. Coote could not have read, else he would not have been at the\ntrouble to maintain it was impossible that Galland derived his tale from it:\n\"so long,\" says he, \"as that story remained in the country of its birth--\nIndia--it was absolutely inaccessible to him, for great traveller as he was,\nhe never visited that far-off portion of the East.\" The fact is, this Hindu\nstory only resembles Galland's, and that remotely, in the opening portion\nSeven daughters of a poor man played daily under the shady trees in the king's\ngarden with the gardener's daughter, and she used to say to them, \"When I am\nmarried I shall have a son--such a beautiful boy as he will be has never been\nseen. He will have a moon on his forehead and a star on his chin,\" and they\nall laughed at her. The king, having overheard what she so often repeated,\nmarried her, though he had already four wives. Then follows the golden bell\naffair again, with a kettledrum substituted. When the young queen is about to\nbe confined her co-wives tell her it is the custom to bind the eyes of women\nin her condition, to which she submits, and after she has borne the wonderful\nboy she promised to do, they tell her she has been delivered of a stone. The\nking degraded her to the condition of a kitchen servant and never spoke to\nher. The nurse takes the baby in a box and buries it in the jungle. But the\nking's dog had followed her, and when she went off he took the box out of the\nearth and swallowed the baby. Six months after the dog brings him up, caresses\nhim and swallows him again. He does likewise at the end of the year, and the\ndog's keeper, having seen all told the four wives. They say to the king the\ndog had torn their clothes, and he replies, he'll have the brute shot\nto-morrow. The dog overhears this and runs off to the king's cow; he induces\nher to save the child by swallowing him, and the cow consents. Next day the\ndog is shot, and so on: the cow is to be killed and induces the king's horse\nto swallow the child, and so on.--There may have been originally some mystical\nsignification attached to this part of the tale, but it has certainly no\nconnection with our story.[FN#443]\n\nI had nearly omitted an Arabian version of the outcast infants which seems to\nhave hitherto escaped notice by story-comparers. Moreover, it occurs in a text\nof The Nights, to wit, the Wortley-Montague MS., Nights 472-483, in the story\nof Abou Neut and Abou Neeuteen = Ab\u00fa Niyyet and Ab\u00fa Niyyeteyn, according to\nDr. Redhouse; one of those translated by Jonathan Scott in vol. vi. of his\nedition of the \"Arabian Nights,\" where, at p. 227, the hero marries the King's\nyoungest daughter and the King in dying leaves him heir to his throne, a\nbequest which is disputed by the husbands of the two elder daughters. The\nyoung queen is brought to bed of a son, and her sisters bribe the midwife to\ndeclare that she has given birth to a dog and throw the infant at the gate of\none of the royal palaces. The same occurs when a second son is born. But at\nthe third lying-in of the princess her husband takes care to be present, and\nthe beautiful daughter she brings forth is saved from the clutches of her\nvindictive sisters. The two little princes are taken up by a gardener and\nreared as his own children. In course of time, it happened that the King (Ab\u00fa\nNeeut) and his daughter visited the garden and saw the two little boys playing\ntogether and the young princess felt an instinctive affection for them, and\nthe King, finding them engaged in martial play, making clay-horses, bows and\narrows, &c., had the curiosity to inquire into their history. The dates when\nthey were found agreed with those of the queen's delivery; the midwife also\nconfessed; and the King left the guilty parties to be punished by the pangs of\ntheir own consciences, being convinced that envy is the worst of torments. The\ntwo young princes were formally acknowledged and grew up to follow their\nfather's example.\n\nWe must go back to India once more if we would trace our tale to what is\nperhaps its primitive form, and that is probably of Buddhist invention; though\nit is quite possible this may be one of the numerous fiction which have been\ntime out of mind the common heritage of nearly all peoples, and some of which\nthe early Buddhists adapted to their own purposes. Be this as it may, in the\nfollowing tale, from Dr. Mitra's \"Sanskrit Buddhist Literature of Nep\u00e1l\"\n(Calcutta: 1882), pp. 65, 66, we seem to have somewhat like the germ of the\nEnvious Sisters:\n\n\n                       BUDDHIST VERSION.\n\nKing Brahmadatta picked up in Kampilla a destitute girl named Padm\u00e1vati, who\nscattered lotuses at every step she moved, and made her his favourite queen.\nShe was very simple-minded. Other queens used to play tricks upon her, and at\nthe time of her first delivery cheated her most shamefully. The wicked ladies\nsaid to her on that occasion, \"Dear Padma, you are a rustic girl; you do not\nknow how to give birth to a royal child. Let us help you.\" She yielded. They\ncovered her eyes, threw into the river the twin boys she had brought forth,\nand smeared her face with blood. They deceived her by telling her that it was\nonly a lump of flesh that she had given birth to, and it had been thrown into\nthe river. At the same time they informed her husband that Padma had eaten up\nher two new-born sons. The King enraged at her inhuman conduct, ordered her to\ninstant execution. But there was a shrewd man in the court who privately saved\nher life. A divinity appeared to the King in a dream, and revealed the whole\ntruth to him. The King made a strict investigation in the harem, and found\nthat Padm\u00e1vati had been perfectly innocent. He became disconsolate, and gave\nvent to loud lamentations. Soon after some fishermen appeared at court and\npresented the King with two infants, who betrayed their royal lineage by the\nresemblance which their features bore to those of the King. They were reported\nto have been found in a vessel floating on the river. The courtier who saved\nPadma's life now wished to produce her before the King, but she refused to\nreturn and proceeded to her father's hermitage. After the death of her father\nshe travelled through various places in the habit of a devotee; and in the\ncourse of her peregrinations she stopped at Ban\u00e1res, from whence Brahmadatta\nconducted her to his capital with great honour.\n\nI am of opinion that this Buddhist tale is the original form of the \"Envious\nSisters\"-- that it ended with the restoration of the children and the\nvindication of the innocence of their mother. The second part of our story has\nno necessary connection with the first, the elements of which it is composed\nbeing found in scores--nay, hundreds--of popular fictions in every country:\nthe quest of wonderful or magical objects; one brother setting out, and by\nneglecting to follow the advice tendered him by some person he meets on his\nway, he comes to grief; a second brother follows, with the same result; and it\nis reserved for the youngest, and the least esteemed, to successfully\naccomplish the adventure. In the second part of the \"Envious Sisters,\" the\ngirl, the youngest of the three children, plays the part of the usual hero of\nfolk-tales of this class. There is, generally, a seemingly wretched old man--a\nhideous, misshapen dwarf--or an ugly, decrepit old woman--who is treated with\nrudeness by the two elder adventurers, so they do not speed in their\nenterprise; but the youngest addresses the person in respectful terms--shares\nhis only loaf with him--and is rewarded by counsel which enables him to bring\nhis adventure to a successful end. In the \"Envious Sisters,\" which I cannot\nbut think Galland has garbled from his original, the eldest clips the beard of\nthe hermit, and presumably the second does the same, since we are told he\nfound the hermit in the like condition (albeit, his beard had been trimmed but\na few days before). Each of them receives the same instructions. In a true\nfolk-tale the two elder brothers would treat the old man with contempt and\nsuffer accordingly, while the youngest would cut his nails and his beard, and\nmake him more comfortable in his person. We do not require to go to Asiatic\nfolk-lore for tales in which the elements of the second part of the \"Envious\nSisters\" are to be found. In the German story of the Fox's Brush there is a\nquest of a golden bird. The first brother sets off in high hope, on the road\nhe sees a fox, who calls out to him not to shoot at it, and says that farther\nalong the road are two inns, one of which is bright and cheerful looking, and\nhe should not go into it, but rather into the other, even though it does not\nlook very inviting. He shoots at the fox and misses it, then continues his\njourney, and puts up at the fine inn, where amidst riot and revel he forgets\nall about the business on which he had set out. The same happens to the second\nbrother. But the youngest says to the fox that he will not shoot it and the\nfox takes him on its tail to the small inn, where he passes a quiet night, and\nin the morning is conveyed by the fox to the castle, wherein is the golden\nbird in a wooden cage, and so on. Analogous stories to this are plentiful\nthroughout Europe and Asia; there is one, I think, in the Wortley Montague MS.\nof The Nights.\n\nIn Straparoia's version of the \"Envious Sisters,\" when the children's hair is\ncombed pearls and precious stones fall out of it, whereby their foster-parents\nbecome rich; this is only hinted at in Galland's story: the boy's hair \"should\nbe golden on one side and silvern on the other; when weeping he should drop\npearls in place of tears, and when laughing his rosy lips should be fresh as\nthe blossom new-blown,\" not another word is afterwards said of this, while in\nthe modern Arabic version the children are finally identified by their mother\nthrough such peculiarities. The silver chains with which the children are born\nin the romance of \"Helyas, the Knight of the Swan,\" correspond with the \"gold\nstar\" etc. on the forehead in other stories. It only remains to observe that\nthe Bird of our tale who in the end relates the history of the children to\ntheir father, is represented in the modern Arabic version by the fairy Arab\nZandyk in the modern Greek by Tzitzin na, and in the Albanian by the Belle of\nthe Earth.\n\n\n\n\n                       ADDITIONAL NOTES.\n\n\n\n\n                   The Tale of Zayn Al-asnam,\n\n\n\nThe Dream of Riches. In Croker's Irish Fairy Legends there is a droll version,\nof this story, entitled \"Dreaming Tim Jarvis.\" Honest Tim, we are told, \"took\nto sleeping, and the sleep set him dreaming, and he dreamed all night, and\nnight after night, about crock full of gold. . . . At last he dreamt that he\nfound a mighty great crock of gold and silver, and where, do you think ? Every\nstep of the way upon London Bridge itself! Twice Tim dreamt it, and three\ntimes Tim dreamt the same thing; and at last he made up his mind to transport\nhimself, and go over to London, in Pat Mahoney's coaster and so he did!\" Tim\nwalks on London Bridge day after day until he sees a man with great black\nwhiskers and a black cloak that reached down to the ground, who accosts him,\nand he tells the strange man about his dream. \"Ho! Ho!\" says the strange man,\n\"is that all, Tim? I had a dream myself and I dreamed that I found a crock of\ngold in the Fort field, on Jerry Driscoll's ground at Balledehob, and, by the\nsame token, the pit where it lay was close to a large furze bush, all full of\nyellow blossom.\" Tim hastens back to his old place, sells his cabin and\ngarden, and buys the piece of waste ground so minutely described by the man\nwith black whiskers, finds the pit, jumps into it, and is among the fairies,\nwho give him leave to stuff his pockets with gold; but when he returns to\nupper earth he discovers that he has got only a handful of small stones mixed\nwith yellow furze blossoms.\n\nIn a note appended to this tale, Croker cites the following from Grimm's\n\"Deutsche Sagan,\" vol. i. p. 290: A man once dreamed that if he went to\nRegensburg and walked on the bridge he should become rich. He went\naccordingly; and when he had spent near a fortnight walking backwards and\nforwards on the bridge, a rich merchant came up to him wondering what he was\ndoing here every day, and asked him what he was looking for. He answered that\nhe had dreamed if he would go to the bridge of Regensburg he should become\nrich. \"Ha!\" said the merchant, \"what do you say about dreams?--Dreams are but\nfroth (Tr\u00e4ume sind Schaume). I too have dreamed that there is buried under\nyonder large tree (pointing to it) a great kettle full of money; but I gave no\nheed to this, for dreams are froth.\" The man went immediately and dug under\nthe tree, and there he got a treasure, which made a rich man of him, and so\nhis dream was accomplished.--The same story is told of a baker's boy at\nLubeck, who dreamed that he should find a treasure on the bridge; there he met\na beggar, who said he had dreamed there was one under a lime-tree in the\nchurchyard of Mollen, but he would not take the trouble of going there. The\nbaker's boy went, and got the treasure.--It is curious to observe that all the\nEuropean versions of the story have reference to a bridge, and it must have\nbeen brought westward in this form.\n\nThe Quest of the Image.--It has only now occurred to my mind that there is a\nvery similar story in the romance of the Four Dervishes (\"Kissa-i-Cheh\u00e1r-\nDarwesh\"), a Persian work written in the 13th century, and rendered into Urd\u00fa\nabout 80 years ago, under the title of \"Bagh o Bah\u00e1r\" (Garden of Spring), of\nwhich an English translation was made by L. F. Smith, which was afterwards\nimproved by Duncan Forbes. There the images are of monkeys--circumstance which\nseems to point to an Indian origin of the story--but the hero falls in love\nwith the spotless girl, and the jinn-king takes possession of her, though he\nis ultimately compelled to give her up.--The fact of this story of the quest\nof the lacking image being found in the Persian language is another proof that\nthe tales in The Nights were largely derived from Persian story-books.\n\n\n                Aladdin; Or, the Wonderful Lamp.\n\nThere is a distorted reflection of the story in M. Rene Basset's recently\npublished \"Contes Populaires Berb\u00e8res,\" No. xxix., which is to this effect: A\ntaleb proclaims, \"Who will sell himself for 100 mitqals?\" One offers, the K\u00e1d\u00ed\nratifies the sale; the (now) slave gives the money to his mother, and follows\nthe taleb. Away they go. The taleb repeats certain words, upon which the earth\nopens, and he sends down the slave for \"the candlestick, the reed, and the\nbox.\" The slave hides the box in his pocket and says he did not find it. They\ngo off, and after a time the slave discovers that his master has disappeared.\nHe returns home, hires a house, opens the box, and finds a cloth of silk with\nseven folds; he undoes one of them, whereupon genii swarm about the room, and\na girl appears who dances till break of day. This occurs every night. The king\nhappens to be out on a nocturnal adventure, and hearing a noise, enters the\nhouse and is amused till morning. He sends for the box to be brought to the\npalace, gives the owner his daughter in marriage, and continues to divert\nhimself with the box till his death, when his son-in-law succeeds him on the\nthrone.\n\n\n                Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves.\n\nMy obliging friend, Mr. W. F. Kirby, who contributed to the 10th volume of Sir\nRichard's Nights proper the very able Bibliographical Essay, has drawn my\nattention to an analogue of this tale in Geldart's Folk-Lore of Modern Greece:\nThere were two brothers, one of whom was wealthy and had four children, who\nwere in feeble health, the other was poor and had seven children, who were in\nrobust health. The poor brother's wife, begging relief was allowed to come\ntwice a week to the house of the rich brother to bake bread. Her children were\nstarving, but the rich people gave the mother nothing for several days, and\nall she could do was to wash the dough off her hands for the children, who\nthrived, and the rich man, discovering the cause, made his wife compel the\npoor woman to wash her hands before she left the house. The father found his\nchildren crying for food, and pretended to go to the wood for herbs, but\nreally purposing to kill himself by falling from a crag. But seeing a great\ncastle, he determined first to ascertain what it was, so he went near, and\nhaving climbed a tree, saw forty-nine dragons come out. When they were gone he\nentered, and found a treasure, filled his bag and hurried away. On his return\nhome he found his wife weeping bitterly, but when he showed her the treasure,\nshe said the first thing was to buy oil to light a lamp to our Lady. Next day\nthey bought a house, and moved into it, but agreed only to buy what they\nneeded for each day's use and nothing they could do without. For two months\nthey went often to church and helped the poor, till, one day, the wife of the\nrich man, who had met with losses lately, called for them and was hospitably\nreceived. She heard the story of the treasure, and the poor man offered to\nshow his brother the place. The rich brother miscounted the dragons as they\nleft the castle, and the one left to watch killed and quartered him. Two days\nafterwards his brother went to look for him, brought home the severed body,\nand got a tailor to sew the quarters together. Next day the dragons called on\nthe tailor to make them coats and shoes (sic), and heard of his sewing\ntogether the body. He showed them the house, and forty-eight dragons got into\nchests, which the forty-ninth deposited with the poor man. The children,\nplaying about he chests, heard the dragons say, \"Would that it were night,\nthat we might eat them all!\" So the father took forty-eight spits and made\nthem red hot, and thrust them into the chests, and then said that a trick had\nbeen played upon him, and sent his servant to throw them one by one into the\nsea. As often as the servant returned he pretended to him that he did not\nthrow the chest far enough and it had come back and thus he disposed of the\nwhole number. In the morning when the last dragon came, the poor man told him\none chest was found open: he was seized with fear, pushed in and spitted like\nthe others and the poor man became the possessor of the dragons' castle.\n\nThere can be no doubt, I think, that this story owes nothing to Galland, but\nthat it is a popular Greek version of the original Asiatic tale, of which\nGalland's \"Ali Baba\" is probably a fair reflection. The device of pretending\nto the servant that the dragon he had thrown into the sea was returned has its\nexact analogue in the humorous fabliau of \"Les Trois Bossus,\" where a rustic\nis made to believe that each of the hunchbacks had come back again, with the\naddition that, on returning from the river the third time, he seizes the\nlady's hunchbacked husband and effectually disposes of him.\n\n\n                   The Tale of Prince Ahmad.\n\nThough my paper on this tale is of considerable length, it would perhaps have\nbeen deemed intolerably long had I cited all the versions of the first part--\nthe quest of the most wonderful thing--which are current in Europe, for it is\nfound everywhere, though with few variations of importance. There are two,\nhowever, of which I may furnish the outlines in this place.\n\nIn the \"Pentamerone\" of Basile,[FN#444], a man sends his five sons into the\nworld to learn something. The eldest becomes a master-thief; the second has\nlearned the trade of shipwright; the third has become a skilful archer; the\nfourth has found an herb which brings the dead to life, and the youngest has\nlearned the speech of birds. Soon after they have returned home, they set out\nwith their father to liberate a princess who had been stolen by a wild man,\nand by the exercise of their several arts succeed in their adventure. While\nthey quarrel as to which of them had by his efforts done most to deserve the\nprincess for wife, the king gives her to the father, as the stock of all those\nbranches.\n\nIn the 45th of Laura Gonzenbach's \"Sicilianische M\u00e4rchen,\" the king's daughter\nis stolen by a giant and recovered by the seven sons of a poor woman. The\neldest can run like the wind, the second can hear, when he puts his ear to the\nground, all that goes on in the world; the third can with a blow of his fist\nbreak through seven iron doors; the fourth is a thief; the fifth can build an\niron tower with a blow of his fist; the sixth is an unfailing shot, the\nseventh has a guitar which can awaken the dead. Youths thus wonderfully\nendowed figure in many tales, but generally as the servants of the hero.\n\nBy comparing the different European versions it will be found that some are\nsimilar to the first part of the tale of Prince Ahmad, insomuch as the\nbrothers become possessed of certain wonderful things which are each\ninstrumental in saving the damsel's life; while others more closely approach\nthe oldest known form of the story, in representing the heroes as being\nendowed with some extraordinary kind of power, by means of which they rescue\nthe damsel from a giant who had carried her off. It is curious to observe that\nin the \"Sindib\u00e1d N\u00e1ma\" version the damsel is both carried off by a demon and\nat death's door, which is not the case of any other Asiatic form of the story.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                   Arabian Nights, Volume 13\n                           Footnotes\n\n\n\n[FN#1]  M. Zotenberg empowered me to offer his \"Aladdin\" to an\n\"Oriental\" publishing-house well-known in London, and the result\nwas the \"no-public\" reply. The mortifying fact is that Oriental\nstudies are now at their nadir in Great Britain, which is\nbeginning to show so small in the Eastern World.\n\n[FN#2]  P.N. of a Jinni who rules the insect-kingdom and who is\ninvoked by scribes to protect their labours from the worm.\n\n[FN#3]  Both name and number suggest the \"Calc. Edit.\" of 1814.\nSee \"Translator's Foreword\" vol. i., x)x.-xx. There is another\nversion of the first two hundred Nights, from the \"Calc. Edit.\"\ninto Urdu by one Haydar Ali 1 vol. roy. 8vo lithog. Calc. 1263\n(1846).-- R.F.B.\n\n[FN#4]  \"Alf Leilah\" in Hindostani 4 vols. in 2, royal 8vo,\nlithographed, Lakhnau, 1263 (1846).--R. F. B.\n\n[FN#5]  This is the \"Alif\" (!) Leila, Tarjuma-i Alif (!) Laila\nba-Zuban-i-Urdu (Do Jild, baharf\u00e1t-i-Yurop), an Urdu translation\nof the Arabian Nights, printed entirely in the Roman character,\netc., etc.--R.F.B.\n\n[FN#6]  i.e., The Thousand Tales.\n\n[FN#7]  From the MS, in the Biblioch\u00e8que Nationale (Supplement\nArab. No. 2523) vol. ii., p. 82, verso to p. 94, verso. The\nSisters are called D\u00edn\u00e1rz\u00e1d and Shahr\u00e1z\u00e1d, a style which I have\nnot adopted.\n\n[FN#8]  THe old versions read \"Ornament (Adornment?) of the\nStatues,\" Zierde der Pilds\u00e4ulen (Weil). I hold the name to be\nelliptical, Zayn (al-Din = Adornment of The Faith and owner of)\nal-Asn\u00e1m = the Images. The omission of Al-Din in proper names is\nvery common; e.g., Fakhr (Al-Din) Al-Iftakh\u00e1ri (Iftikh\u00e1r-al-Din)\nand many others given by De Sacy (Chrest.i. 30, and in the\nTreatise on Coffee by Abdal-K\u00e1dir). So Al-Kam\u00e1l, Al-Im\u00e1d, Al-Baha\nare = Kamal al-D\u00edn, etc. in Jbn Khallikan, iii 493. Sanam\nproperly = an idol is popularly applied to all artificial figures\nof man and beast. I may note that we must not call the hero,\nafter Galland's fashion, unhappily adopted by Weil, tout\nbonnement \"Zayn.\"\n\n[FN#9]  Galland persistently writes \"Balsorah,\" a European\ncorruption common in his day, the  childhood of Orientalism in\nEurope. The Hindostani versions have \"Bansr\u00e1,\" which is worse.\n\n[FN#10]  For notes on Geomancy (Zarb Raml) see vol. iii. 269.\n\n[FN#11]  THe Hindostani Version enlarges upon this:--\"Besides\nthis, kings cannot escape perils and mishaps which serve as\nwarnings and examples to them when dealing their decrees.\"\n\n[FN#12]  In the XIXth century we should say \"All the--ologies.\"\n\n[FN#13]  In the Hindostani Version he begins by \"breaking the\nseal which had been set upon the royal treasury.\"\n\n[FN#14]  \"Three things\" (says Sa'di in the Gulistan) \"lack\npermanency, Wealth without trading, Learning without disputation,\nGovernment without justice.\" (chap. viii. max. 8). The\nBakhtiy\u00e1r-n\u00e1meh adds that \"Government is a tree whose root is\nlegal punishment (Siy\u00e1sat); its root-end is justice; its bough,\nmercy; its flower, wisdom; its leaf, liberality; and its fruit,\nkindness and benevolence. The foliage of every tree whose root\nwaxeth dry (lacketh sap) taketh a yellow tint and beareth no\nfruit.\"\n\n[FN#15]  For this word, see vol. ix. 108. It is the origin of the\nFr. \"Douane\" and the Italian \"Dogana\" through the Spanish Aduana\n(Ad-D\u00edw\u00e1n) and the Provencal \"Doana.\" M\u2044nage derives it from the\nGr. {Greek} =a place where goods are received, and others from\n\"Doge\" (Dux) for whom a tax on merchandise was levied at Venice.\nLittr\u2044 (s.v.) will not decide, but rightly inclines to the\nOriental origin.\n\n[FN#16]  A Hadis says, \"The dream is the inspiration of the True\nBeliever;\" but also here, as the sequel shows, the Prince\nbelieved the Shaykh to be the Prophet, concerning whom a second\nHadis declares, \"Whoso seeth me in his sleep seeth me truly, for\nSatan may not assume my semblance.\" See vol. iv. 287. The dream\nas an inspiration shows early in literature, e.g.\n\n          --{Greek} (Il. i. 63).\nand\n          --{Greek} (Il. ii 55).\n\nin which the Dream is {Greek}.\n\n[FN#17]  In the Hindostani Version he becomes a P\u00edr = saint,\nspiritual guide.\n\n[FN#18]  A favourite sentiment. In Sir Charles Murray's excellent\nnovel, \"Hassan: or, the Child of the Pyramid,\" it takes the form,\n\"what's past is past and what is written is written and shall\ncome to pass.\"\n\n[FN#19]  In the H. V. the Prince digs a vat or cistern-shaped\nhole a yard deep. Under the ringed slab he also finds a door\nwhose lock he breaks with his pickaxe and seeing a staircase of\nwhite marble lights a candle and reaches a room whose walls are\nof porcelain and its floor and ceiling are of crystal.\n\n[FN#20]  Arab. Khaw\u00e1bi (plur. of Kh\u00e1biyah) large jars usually of\npottery. In the H. V. four shelves of mother o' pearl support ten\njars of porphyry rangeed in rows and the Prince supposes (with\nGalland) that the contents are good old wine.\n\n[FN#21]  Arab.  \"'At\u00edk\": the superficial similiarity of the words\nhave produced a new noun in Arabic, e.g. Ab\u00fa Ant\u00edk\u00e1 = father of\nantiquities, a vendor of such articles mostly modern, \"brand-new\nand intensely old.\"\n\n[FN#22]  In the text \"Ashkh\u00e1s\" (plural of Shakhs) vulgarly used,\nthroughout India, Persia and other Moslem realms, in the sense of\npersons or individuals. For its lit. sig. see vols. iii. 26; and\nviii. 159. The H. V. follows Galland in changing to pedestals the\nArab thrones, and makes the silken hanging a \"piece of white\nsatin\" which covers the unoccupied base.\n\n[FN#23]  The blessed or well-omened: in these days it is mostly a\nservile name, e.g. Sidi Mub\u00e1rak Bombay. See vol. ix. 58,330.\n\n[FN#24]  In the test \"M\u00edn\" for \"Man,\" a Syro-Egyptian form common\nthroughout this MS.\n\n[FN#25]  \"Ay Ni'am,\" an emphatic and now vulgar expression.\n\n[FN#26]  The MS. here has \"'Im\u00e1rah\" = a building, probably a\nclerical error for Magh\u00e1rah,\" a cave, a souterrain.\n\n[FN#27]  Arab, \"Zahab-raml\u00ed,\" explained in \"Alaeddin.\" So\nAl-Mutanabbi sang:--\n\n\"I become not of them because homed in their ground: * Sandy\n     earth is the gangue wherein gold is found.\"\n\n[FN#28]  Wal\u00edmah prop. = a marriage-feast. For the different\nkinds of entertainments see vols. vi. 74; viii. 231.\n\n[FN#29]  Arab. Mukatta\u00ed al-Yadayn, a servile posture: see vols.\niii. 218; ix. 320.\n\n[FN#30]  Here the Arabic has the advantage of the English;\n\"Shakhs\" meaning either a person or an image. See supra, p. 11.\n\n[FN#31]  Arab. \"Kaw\u00e1rij\u00ed = one who uses the paddle, a paddler, a\nrower.\n\n[FN#32]  In the Third Kalandar's Tale (vol. i. 143) Prince 'Aj\u00edb\nis forbidden to call upon the name of Allah, under pain of\nupsetting the skiff paddled by the man of brass. Here the detail\nis omitted.\n\n[FN#33]  Arab. \"Wahsh,\" which Galland translates \"Tiger,\" and is\nfollowed by his Hind. translator.\n\n[FN#34]  Arab. \"Laffa 'l-isnayn bi-zul\u00famati-h,\" the latter word =\nKhurt\u00fam, the trunk of an elephant, from Zalm = the dewlap of\nsheep or goat.\n\n[FN#35]  In the text \"Y\u00e1min,\" a copyist's error, which can mean\nnothing else but \"Yasim\u00edn.\"\n\n[FN#36]  The H. V. rejects this detail for \"a single piece of\nmother-o'-pearl twelve yards long,\" etc. Galland has une seule\necaille de poisson. In my friend M. Zotenberg's admirable\ntranslation of Tabara (i. 52) we read of a bridge at Baghdad made\nof the ribs of Og bin 'Unk (= Og of the Neck), the fabled King of\nBashan.\n\n[FN#37]  I have noted that this is the primitive attire of\nEastern man in all hot climates, and that it still holds its\nground in that grand survival of heathenry, the Meccan\nPilgrimage. In Galland the four strips are of taffetas jaune, the\nHind. \"Taft\u00ed.\"\n\n[FN#38]  The word is Hiz\u00e1m = girdle, sash, waist-belt, which\nGalland turns into nappes. The object of the cloths edged with\ngems and gums was to form a barrier excluding hostile Jinns: the\nEuropean magician usually drew a magic circle.\n\n[FN#39]  This is our corruption of the Malay Aigla = sandal wood.\nSee vol. ix. 150.\n\n[FN#40]  Lit. = the Day of Assembly, \"Yaum al-Mahshar.\" These\nlines were translated at Cannes on Feb. 22n, 1886, the day before\nthe earthquake which brought desolation upon the Riviera. It was\na second curious coincidence. On Thursday, July 10th, 1863--the\nmorning when the great earthquake at Accra laid in ruins the town\nand the stout old fort built in the days of James II--I had been\nreading the Koranic chapter entitled \"Earthquakes\" (No. XCIX.) to\nsome Moslem friends who had visited my quarters. Upwards of a\ndecade afterwards I described teh accident in \"Ocean Highways\"\n(New Series, No. II., Vol. I, pp. 448-461), owned by Trubner &\nCo., and edited by my friend Clements Markham, and I only regret\nthat this able Magazine has been extinguished by that dullest of\nJournals, \"Porceedings of the R. S. S. and monthly record of\nGeography.\"\n\n[FN#41]  Galland has un tremblement pareil \u00e0 celui qu'Israfyel\n(Isr\u00e1f\u00edl) doit causer le jour du jugement.\n\n[FN#42]  The idea is Lady M. W. Montague's (\"The Lady's\nResolve.\")\n\n          In part she is to blame that has been tried:\n          He comes too near that comes to be denied.\n\nAs an unknown correspondent warns me the sentiment was probably\nsuggested by Sir Thomas Overbury (\"A Wife.\" St. xxxvi):--\n\n                                   --In part to blame is she\n          Which hath without consent bin only tride:\n          He comes too near that comes to be denide.\n\n[FN#43]  These highly compromising magical articles are of many\nkinds. The ballad of The Boy and the Mantle is familiar to all,\nhow in the case of Sir Kay's lady:--\n\n          When she had tane the mantle\n               With purpose for to wear;\n          It shrunk up to her shoulder\n               And left her backside bare.\n                          Percy, Vol. I., i and Book III.\n\nPercy derives the ballad from \"Le COurt Mantel,\" an old French\npiece and Mr. Evans (Specimens of Welsh Poetry) from an ancient\nMS, of Tegan Earfron, one of Arthur's mistresses, who possessed a\nmantle which would not fit immodest women. See also in Spenser,\nQueen Florimel's Girdle (F.Q. iv. 5,3), and the detective is a\nhorn in the Morte d'Arthur, translated from the French, temp.\nEdward IV., and first printed in A. D. 1484. The Spectator (No.\n579) tells us \"There was a Temple upon Mount Etna which was\nguarded by dogs of so exquisite a smell, that they could discover\nwhether the Persons who came thither were chaste or not;\" and\nthat they caused, as might be expected, immense trouble. The\ntest-article becomes in the Tuti-n\u00e1meh the Tank of Trial at Agra;\nalso a nosegay which remains fresh or withers; in the Kath\u00e1 Sarit\nS\u00e1gara, the red lotus of Shiva; a shirt in Story lxix. Gesta\nRomanorum; a cup in Ariosto; a rose-garland in \"The Wright's\nChaste WIfe,\" edited by Mr. Furnival for the Early English Text\nSociety; a magic picture in Bandello, Part I., No. 21; a ring in\nthe Pentamerone, of Basile; and a distaff in \"L'Adroite\nPrincesse,\" a French imitation of the latter.\n\n[FN#44]  Looking glasses in the East are mostly made, like our\ntravelling mirrors, to open and shut.\n\n[FN#45]  In Eastern countries the oarsman stands to his work and\nlessens his labour by applying his weight which cannot be done so\nforcibly when sitting even upon the sliding-seat. In rowing as in\nswimming we have forsaken the old custom and have lost instead of\ngaining.\n\n[FN#46]  I have explained this word in vol. iii. 100; viii. 51,\netc., and may add the interpretation of Mr. L. C. Casartelli (p.\n17) \"La Philosophie Religieuse du Mazd\u2044isme, etc., Paris\nMaisonneuve, 1884.\" \"A divine name, which has succeeded little\n(?) is the ancient title Bagh, the O. P. Baga of the Cuneiforms\n(Baga vazraka Auramazda, etc.) and the Bagha of the Avesta, whose\nmemory is preserved in Baghdad--the city created by the Gods (?).\nThe Pahlevi books show the word in the compound Bagh\u2202bakht, lit.\n= what is granted by the Gods, popularly, Providence.\"\n\n[FN#47]  The H. V. makes the old woman a \"finished procuress\nwhose skill was unrivalled in that profession.\"\n\n[FN#48]  In the text \"Al-S\u00e1d\u00ed w'al-Gh\u00e1d\u00ed:\" the latter may mean\nthose who came for the morning meal.\n\n[FN#49]  An antistes, a leader in prayer (vols. ii. 203, and iv.\n227); a reverend, against whom the normal skit is directed. The\nH. V. makes him a Muezzin, also a Mosque-man; and changes his\nname to Murad. Im\u00e1m is a word with a host of meanings, e.g.,\nmodel (and master), a Sir-Oracle, the Caliph, etc., etc.\n\n[FN#50]  i.e. being neighbours they would become to a certain\nextent answerable for the crimes committed within the quarter.\n\n[FN#51]  Arab. \"Nakshat\" and \"Sifrat.\"\n\n[FN#52]  Arab. \"Faraj\u00edyah,\" for which see vol. i. 210, 321.\n\n[FN#53]  For this aphrodisiac see vol. vi. 60.\n\n[FN#54]  In the text \"Ay ni'am,\" still a popular expression.\n\n[FN#55]  Arab. \"'Ilm al-H\u00edah,\" gen. translated Astrology, but\nhere meaning scientific Physiognomy. All these branches of\nscience, including Palmistry, are nearly connected; the features\nand the fingers, mounts, lines, etc. being referred to the sun,\nmoon and planets.\n\n[FN#56]  Arab. \"Mihaffah bi-takhtraw\u00e1n\": see vols. ii. 180; v.\n175.\n\n[FN#57]  The H. V. is more explicit: \"do not so, or the King of\nthe Jann will slay thee even before thou canst enjoy her and will\ncarry her away.\"\n\n[FN#58]  Arab. \"Shahwah\" the rawest and most direct term. The\nMoslem religious has no absurd shame of this natural passion. I\nhave heard of a Persian Imam, who, suddenly excited as he was\nsleeping in a friend's house, awoke the master with, \"Shahwah\nd\u00e1ram\" = \"I am lustful\" and was at once gratified by a \"Mut'ah,\"\ntemporary and extempore marriage to one of the slave-girls. These\nmorganatic marriages are not, I may note, allowed to the Sunnis.\n\n[FN#59]  Arab. \"Min ba'di an\" for \"Min ba'di m\u00e1\" = after that,\nstill popular in the latter broad form.\n\n[FN#60]  The word has been used in this tale with a threefold\nsense Egypt, old Cairo (Fostat) and new Cairo, in fact to the\nland and to its capital for the time being.\n\n[FN#61]  Arab. \"Kabbaltu\" = I have accepted, i.e., I accept\nemphatically. Arabs use this form in sundry social transactions,\nsuch as marriages, sales, contracts, bargains, and so forth, to\ndenote that the engagement is irrevocable and that no change can\nbe made. De Sacy neglected to note this in his Grammar, but\nexplains it in his Chrestomathy (i. 44, 53), and rightly adds\nthat the use of this energetic form peut-\u00eatre serait susceptible\nd'applications plus \u2044tendues.\n\n[FN#62]  La nuit de l'entr\u2044e, say the French: see Lane \"Leylet\ned-dukhlah\" (M.E. chapt. vi.).\n\n[FN#63]  This MS. uses \"Mil\u00e1h\" (pleasant) for \"Mub\u00e1h\"\n(permitted). I must remark, before parting with Zayn al-Asnam,\nthat its object is to inculcate that the price of a good wife is\n\"far above rubies\" (Prov. xxxi. 10: see the rest of this fine\nchapter), a virtuous woman being \"a crown to her husband\" (ibid.\nxxii. 4); and \"a prudent wife is from the Lord\" (Prov. xix. 4).\nThe whole tale is told with extreme delicacy and the want of\nroughness and energy suggests a European origin.\n\n[FN#64]  i.e. the \"Height or Glory ('Al\u00e1) of the Faith (al-D\u00edn)\"\npron. Al\u00e1addeen; which is fairly represented by the old form\n\"Aladdin;\" and better by De Sacy's \"Ala-eddin.\" The name has\noccurred in The Nights, vol. iv. 29-33; it is a household word in\nEngland and who has not heard of THomas Hood's \"A-lad-in?\"\nEasterns write it in five different ways and in the Paris MS. it\nis invariably \"'Al\u00ed al-d\u00edn,\" which is a palpable mistake. The\nothers are (1) 'Al\u00e1 al-D\u00edn, (2) 'Al\u00e1 yad\u00edn, (3) 'Alah D\u00edn in the\nH. V. and (4) 'Al\u00e1a al-D\u00edn (with the Hamzah), the last only being\ngrammatical. In Galland the Histoire de la Lampe merveilleuse is\npreceded by the Histoire du Dormeur Eveill\u2044 which, being \"The\nStory of Ab\u00fa al-Hasan the Wag, or the Sleeper awakened,\" of the\nBresl. Edit. (Nights cclxxi.-ccxc.), is here omitted. The\nAlaeddin Story exists in germ in Tale ii. of the \"Dravidian\nNights Entertainments,\" (Madana Kamara-Sank\u00e1d\u00e1j), by Pandit S. M.\nNatisa Shastri (Madras, 1868, and London, Tr\u2265bner). We are told\nby Mr. Coote that it is well represented in Italy. The Messina\nversion is by Pitt\u00e8, \"La Lanterna Magica,\" also the Palermitan\n\"Lanterne;\" it is \"Il Matrimonio di Cajussi\" of Rome (R. H.\nBusk's Folk-lore); \"Il Gallo e il Mago,\" of Visentini's \"Fiabe\nMantovane,\" and the \"Pesciolino,\" and \"Il Contadino che aveva tre\nF\u00edgli,\" of Imbriana. In \"La Fanciulla c il Mago,\" of De\nGubernatis (\"Novelline di Sante Stefano de Calcenaja,\" p. 47),\noccurs the popular incident of the original. \"The Magician was\nnot a magician for nothing. He feigned to be a hawker and fared\nthrough the streets, crying out, 'Donne, donne, chi baratta\nanelli di ferro contra anelli di argento?'\"\n\nAlaeddin has ever been a favourite with the stage. Early in the\npresent century it was introduced to the Parisian opera by M.\nEtienne, to the Feydeau by Th\u2044aulon's La Clochette: to the\nGymnase by La Petite-Lampe of M. Scribe and Melesville, and to\nteh Panorama Dramatique by MM. Merle, Cartouche and Saintine\n(Gauttier, vii. 380).\n\n[FN#65]  This MS. always uses D\u00edn\u00e1rz\u00e1d like Galland.\n\n[FN#66]  Arab.  \"'Abadan,\" a term much used in this MS. and used\ncorrectly. It refers always and only to future time, past being\ndenoted by \"Kattu\" from Katta = he cut (in breadth, as opposed to\nKadda=he cut lengthwise). See De Sacy, Chrestom. ii. 443.\n\n[FN#67]  In the text \"Ibn m\u00edn,\" a vulgarism for \"man.\" Galland\nadds that the tailor's name was Mustapha--i  y avait un tailleur\nnomm\u2044 Mustafa.\n\n[FN#68]  In classical Arabic the word is \"Maghribi,\" the local\nform of the root Gharaba= he went far away (the sun), set, etc.,\nwhence \"Maghribi\"=a dweller in the Sunset-land. The vulgar,\nhowever, prefer \"Maghrab\" and \"Maghrabi,\" of which foreigners\nmade \"Mogrebin.\" For other information see vols. vi. 220; ix. 50.\nThe \"Moormen\" are famed as magicians; so we find a Maghrabi\nSahh\u00e1r=wizard, who by the by takes part in a transformation scene\nlike that of the Second Kalandar (vol. i. p. 134, The Nights), in\np. 10 of Spitta Bey's \"Contes Arabes Modernes,\" etc. I may note\nthat \"Sihr,\" according to Jauhari and Firoz\u00e1b\u00e1di=anything one can\nhold by a thin or subtle place, i.e., easy to handle. Hence it\nwas applied to all sciences, \"Sahh\u00e1r\" being=to 'Alim (or sage) .\nand the older Arabs called poetry \"Sihar al-hal\u00e1l\"--lawful magic.\n\n[FN#69]  i.e. blood is thicker than water, as the Highlanders\nsay.\n\n[FN#70]  A popular saying amongst Moslems which has repeatedly\noccurred in The Nights. The son is the \"lamp of a dark house.\"\nVol. ii 280.\n\n[FN#71]  Out of respect to his brother, who was probably the\nsenior: the H. V. expressly says so.\n\n[FN#72]  Al-Marh\u00fam = my late brother. See vol. ii. 129, 196.\n\n[FN#73]  This must refer to Cairo not to Al-Medinah whose title\nis \"Al-Munawwarah\" = the Illumined.\n\n[FN#74]  A picturesque term for birth-place.\n\n[FN#75]  In text \"Y\u00e1 R\u00e1jul\" (for Rajul) = O man, an Egypto-Syrian\nform, broad as any Doric.\n\n[FN#76]  Arab. Sh\u00faf-hu, the colloquial form of Shuf-hu\n\n[FN#77]  For the same sentiment see \"Juln\u00e1r\" the \"Sea born,\"\nNights dccxliii.-xliv.\n\n[FN#78]  \"I will hire thee a shop in the Chauk\"--Carfax or\nmarket-street says the H. V.\n\n[FN#79]  The MS. writes the word Khw\u00e1j\u00e1 (for Khw\u00e1jah see vol. vi.\n46). Here we are at once interested in the scapegrace who looked\nExcelsior. In fact the tale begins with a strong inducement to\nboyish vagabondage and scampish indolence; but the Moslem would\nsee in it the hand of Destiny bringing good out of evil. Amongst\nother meanings of \"Khw\u00e1jah \" it is a honorific title given by\nKhor\u00e1s\u00e1nis to their notables. In Arab. the similarity of the word\nto \"Khuw\u00e1j\"=hunger, has given rise to a host of conceits, more or\nless frigid (Ibn Khallik\u00e1n, iii. 45).\n\n[FN#80]  Arab. \"W\u00e1hid min al-Tujj\u00e1r,\" the very vulgar style.\n\n[FN#81]  i.e., the Saturday (see vol. ii. 305) established as a\nGod's rest by the so-called \"Mosaic\" commandment No. iv. How it\ngradually passed out of observance, after so many centuries of\nmost stringent application, I cannot discover: certainly the text\nin Cor. ii. 16-17 is insufficient to abolish or supersede an\norder given with such singular majesty and impressiveness by God\nand so strictly obeyed by man. The popular idea is that the\nJewish Sabbath was done away with in Christ, and that sundry of\nthe 1604 councils, e.g., Laodicea, anathematized those who kept\nit holy after such fashion. With the day the aim and object\nchanged; and the early Fathers made it the \"Feast of the\nResurrection\" which could not be kept too joyously. The\n\"Sabbatismus\" of our Sabbatarians, who return to the Israelitic\npractice and yet honour the wrong day, is heretical and vastly\nillogical; and the Sunday is better kept in France, Italy and\nother \"Catholic\" countries than in England and Scotland.\n\n[FN#82]  For \"Mushayyad\u00e1t\" see vol. viii. 23.\n\n[FN#83]  All these words s\u00e1r\u00fa, dakhal\u00fa, jalas\u00fa, &c. are in the\nplur. for the dual--popular and vulgar speech. It is so\nthroughout the MS.\n\n[FN#84]  The Persians apply the Arab word \"Sahr\u00e1\"=desert, to the\nwaste grounds about a town.\n\n[FN#85]  Arab. Kash\u00e1k\u00edsh from the quadril, kashkasha = he\ngathered fuel.\n\n[FN#86]  In text \"Shayy bi-l\u00e1sh\" which would mean lit. a thing\ngratis or in vain.\n\n[FN#87]  In the text \"Sabba raml\" = cast in sand. It may be a\nclerical error for \"Zaraba Raml\" = he struck sand, i.e., made\ngeomantic figures.\n\n[FN#88]  Arab. Mauza'= a place, an apartment, a saloon.\n\n[FN#89]  Galland makes each contain quatre vases de bronze,\ngrands comme des cuves.\n\n[FN#90]  The Arab. is \"L\u00edw\u00e1n,\" for which see vols. iv. 71 and\nvii. 347. Galland translates it by a \"terrace\" and \"niche.\"\n\n[FN#91]  The idea is borrowed from the lume eterno of the\nRosicrucians. It is still prevalent throughout Syria where the\nlittle sepulchral lamps buried by the Hebrews, Greeks and Romans\nare so called. Many tales are told of their being found burning\nafter the lapse of centuries; but the traveller will never see\nthe marvel.\n\n[FN#92]  The first notice of the signet-ring and its adventures\nis by Herodotus in the Legend of the Samian Polycrates; and here\nit may be observed that the accident is probably founded on fact;\nevery fisherman knows that fish will seize and swallow spoon-bait\nand other objects that glitter. The text is the Talmudic version\nof Solomon's seal-ring. The king of the demons after becoming a\n\"Bottle-imp,\" prayed to be set free upon condition of teaching a\npriceless secret, and after cajoling the Wise One flung his\nsignet into the sea and cast the owner into a land four hundred\nmiles distant. Here David's son begged his bread till he was made\nhead cook to the King of Ammon at Mash Kern\u00edn. After a while, he\neloped with Na'\u00fazah, the daughter of his master, and presently\nwhen broiling a fish found therein his missing property. In the\nMoslem version, Solomon had taken prisoner Am\u00ednah, the daughter\nof a pagan prince, and had homed her in his Harem, where she\ntaught him idolatry. One day before going to the Hammam he\nentrusted to her his signet- ring presented to him by the four\nangelic Guardians of sky, air, water and earth when the mighty\nJinni Al-Sakhr (see vol. i. 41; v. 36), who was hovering about\nunseen, snatching away the ring, assumed the king's shape,\nwhereby Solomon's form became so changed that his courtiers drove\nhim from his own doors. Thereupon Al-Sakhr, taking seat upon the\nthrone, began to work all manner of iniquity, till one of the\nWazirs, suspecting the transformation, read aloud from a scroll\nof the law: this caused the demon to fly shrieking and to drop\nthe signet into the sea. Presently Solomon, who had taken service\nwith a fisherman, and received for wages two fishes a day, found\nhis ring and made Al-Sakhr a \"Bottle-imp.\" The legend of St.\nKentigern or Mungo of Glasgow, who recovered the Queen's ring\nfrom the stomach of a salmon, is a palpable imitation of the\nBiblical incident which paid tribute to C sar.\n\n[FN#93]  The Magician evidently had mistaken the powers of the\nRing. This is against all probability and possibility, but on\nsuch abnormal traits are tales and novels founded.\n\n[FN#94]  These are the Gardens of the Hesperides and of King\nIsope (Tale of Beryn, Supplem. Canterbury Tales, Chaucer Soc. p.\n84):--\n\n          In mydward of this gardyn stant a feir\u2044 tre\n          Of alle manner levis that under sky be\n          I-forgit and i- fourmyd, eche in his degre\n          Of sylver, and of golde fyne, that lusty been to see.\n\nSo in the Kath\u00e1 (S. S.) there are trees with trunks of gold,\nbranches of pearls, and buds and flowers of clear white pearls.\n\n[FN#95]  The text causes some confusion by applying \"Sullam\" to\nstaircase and ladder, hence probably the latter is not mentioned\nby Galland and Co., who speak only of an escalier de cinquante\nmarches. \"Sullam\" (plur. \"Sal\u00e1lim\") in modern Egyptian is\npopularly used for a flight of steps: see Spitta-Bey's \"Contes\nArabes Modernes,\" p. 70. The H. V. places under the slab a hollow\nspace measuring four paces (kadam = 2.5 feet), and at one corner\na wicket with a ladder. This leads to a vault of three rooms, one\nwith the jars of gold; the second not to be swept by the skirts,\nand the third opening upon the garden of gems. \"There thou shalt\nsee a path, whereby do thou fare straight forwards to a lofty\npalace with a flight of fifty steps leading to a flat terrace:\nand here shalt thou find a niche wherein a lamp burneth.\"\n\n[FN#96]  In the H.V. he had thrust the lamp into the bosom of his\ndress, which, together with his sleeves, he had filled full of\nfruit, and had wound his girdle tightly around him lest any fall\nout.\n\n[FN#97]  Africa (Arab. Afrik\u00edyah) here is used in its old and\nclassical sense for the limited tract about Carthage (Tunis) net,\nAfrica Propria. But the scribe imagines it to be the P. N. of a\ncity: so m J\u00fadar (vol. vi. 222) we find F\u00e1s and Mikn\u00e1s (Fez and\nMequinez) converted into one settlement. The Maghribi,\nMauritanian or Maroccan is famed for sorcery throughout the\nMoslem world: see vol. vi. 220. The Moslem \"Kingdom of Afrikiyah\"\nwas composed of four provinces, Tunis, Tripoli, Constantina, and\nBugia: and a considerable part of it was held by the Berber tribe\nof Sanh\u00e1ja or Sinh\u00e1ga, also called the Zenag whence our modern\n\"Senegal.\" Another noted tribe which held Bajaiyah (Bugia) in\nAfrikiyah proper was the \"Zaw\u00e1wah,\" the European \"Zouaves,\" (Ibn\nKhall. iv. 84).\n\n[FN#98]  Galland omits the name, which is outlandish enough.\n\n[FN#99]  Meaning that he had incurred no blood-guiltiness, as he\nhad not killed the lad and only left him to die.\n\n[FN#100]  The H. V. explains away the improbability of the\nMagician forgetting his gift. \"In this sore disquietude he\nbethought him not of the ring which, by the decree of Allah, was\nthe means of Alaeddin's escape; and indeed not only he but oft\ntimes those who practice the Black Art are baulked of their\ndesigns by Divine Providence.\"\n\n[FN#101]  See vol. vii. 60. The word is mostly derived from \"\n'afar\" = dust, and denotes, according to some, a man coloured\nlike the ground or one who \"dusts\" all his rivals. \" 'Ifr\" (fem.\n'Ifrah) is a wicked and dangerous man. Al-Jannabi, I may here\nnotice, is the chief authority for Afrikus son of Abraha and\nxviiith Tobba being the eponymus of \"Africa.\"\n\n[FN#102]  Arab. \"Ghayr an\" = otherwise that, except that, a\nfavourite form in this MS. The first word is the Syriac \"Gheir\" =\nfor, a conjunction which is most unneccessarily derived by some\nfrom the Gr. {Greek}.\n\n[FN#103]  Galland and the H.V. make the mother deliver a little\nhygienic lecture about not feeding too fast after famine: exactly\nwhat an Eastern parent would not dream of doing.\n\n[FN#104]  The lad now turns the tables upon his mother and\nbecomes her master, having \"a crow to pick\" with her.\n\n[FN#105]  Arab. \"Mun\u00e1fik\" for whose true sense, \"an infidel who\npretendeth to believe in Al-Islam,\" see vol. vi. p. 207. Here the\nepithet comes last being the climax of abuse, because the lowest\nof the seven hells (vol. viii. 111) was created for \"hypocrites,\"\ni.e., those who feign to be Moslems when they are Miscreants.\n\n[FN#106]  Here a little abbreviation has been found necessary to\navoid the whole of a twice-told tale; but nothing material has\nbeen omitted.\n\n[FN#107]  Arab. \"Taffaytu-hu.\" This is the correct term = to\nextinguish. They relate of the great scholar Firoz\u00e1b\u00e1d\u00ed, author\nof the \"K\u00e1m\u00fas\" (ob. A. H. 817 = A. D. 1414), that he married a\nBadawi wife in order to study the purest Arabic and once when\ngoing to bed said to her, \"Uktuli's-sir\u00e1j,\" the Persian \"Chir\u00e1gh-\nr\u00e1 bi-kush\" = Kill the lamp. \"What,\" she cried, \"Thou an ' lim\nand talk of killing the lamp instead of putting it out!\"\n\n[FN#108]  In the H. V. the mother takes the \"fruits\" and places\nthem upon the ground, \"but when darkness set in, a light shone\nfrom them like the rays of a lamp or the sheen of the sun.\"\n\n[FN#109]  For these fabled Giant rulers of Syria, Og King of\nBashan, etc., see vols. vii. 84; ix. 109, 323. D'Herbelot (s. v.\nGiabbar= Giant) connects \"Jab\u00e1birah\" with the Heb. Ghibbor\nGhibborim and the Pers. D\u00edv, Div\u00e1n: of these were ' d and\nShadd\u00e1d, Kings of Syria: the Falast\"in (Philistines) 'Auj, Am\u00e1lik\nand Ban\u00fa Shayth or Seth's descendants, the sons of God (Benu-\nElohim) of the Book of Genesis (vi. 2) who inhabited Mount Hermon\nand lived in purity and chastity.\n\n[FN#110]  The H. V. explains that the Jinni had appeared to the\nmother in hideous aspect, with noise and clamour, because she had\nscoured the Lamp roughly; but was more gentle with Alaeddin\nbecause he had rubbed it lightly. This is from Galland.\n\n[FN#111]  Arab. Musawwadatayn = lit. two black things, rough\ncopies, etc.\n\n[FN#112]  Arab. Ban\u00fa Adam, as opposed to Ban\u00fa Elohim (Sons of the\nGods), B. al-J\u00e1nn etc The Ban\u00fa al-Asfar = sons of the yellow, are\nEsau's posterity in Edom, also a term applied by Arab historians\nto the Greeks and Romans whom Jewish fable derived from Idum a:\nin my vol. ii. 220, they are the people of the yellow or tawny\nfaces. For the legend see Ibn Khall. iii. 8, where the translator\nsuggests that the by-name may be = the \"sees of the Emperor\"\nFlavius, confounded with \"flavus,\" a title left by Vespasian to\nhis successors The Ban\u00fa al Khashkhash = sons of the (black) poppy\nare the Ethiopians.\n\n[FN#113]  Arab, H\u00e1! h\u00e1! so H\u00e1ka (fem. Haki) = Here for thee!\n\n[FN#114]  So in Medieval Europe Papal bulls and Kings' letters\nwere placed for respect on the head. See Duffield's \"Don\nQuixote,\" Part i. xxxi.\n\n[FN#115]  Galland makes the Juif only rus\u2044 et adroit.\n\n[FN#116]  Arab. \"Ghash\u00edm\" = a \"Johnny Raw\" from the root \"Ghashm\"\n= iniquity: Builders apply the word to an unhewn stone; addressed\nto a person it is considered slighting, if not insulting. See\nvol. ii. 330.\n\n[FN#117]  The carat (K\u00edr\u00e1t) being most often, but not always, one\ntwenty-fourth of the diner. See vols. iii. 239; vii. 289.\n\n[FN#118]  Kan\u00e1n\u00ed, plur. of Kinn\u00ednah.\n\n[FN#119]  Here and below silver is specified, whenas the platters\nin Night dxxxv. were of gold This is one of the many changes'\ncontradictions and confusions which are inherent in Arab stones.\nSee Spitta-Bey's \"Contes Arabes,\" Preface.\n\n[FN#120]  i.e., the Slave of the Lamp.\n\n[FN#121]  This may be true, but my experience has taught me to\nprefer dealing with a Jew than with a Christian. The former will\n\"jew\" me perhaps, but his commercial cleverness will induce him\nto allow me some gain in order that I may not be quite\ndisheartened: the latter will strip me of my skin and will\ngrumble because he cannot gain more.\n\n[FN#122]  Arab. \"H\u00e1lah  mutawassitah,\" a phrase  which has a\nEuropean  Touch.\n\n[FN#123]  In the text \"Jauharj\u00edyyah,\" common enough in Egypt and\nSyria, an Arab. plur. of an Arabised Turkish sing.--ji for--ch\u00ed =\n(crafts-) man.\n\n[FN#124]  We may suppose some years may have passed in this\nprocess and that Alaeddin from a lad of fifteen had reached the\nage of manhood. The H. V. declares that for many a twelve month\nthe mother and son lived by cotton spinning and the sale of the\nplate\n\n[FN#125]  i.e. Full moon of full moons: See vol. iii. 228. It is\npronounced \"Badroo'l- Budoor,\" hence Galland's \" Badr-oul-\nboudour. \"\n\n[FN#126]  In the H. V. Alaeddin \"bethought him of a room adjacent\nto the Baths where he might sit and see the Princess through the\ndoor-chinks, when she raised her veil before the handmaids and\neunuchs.\"\n\n[FN#127]  This is the common conceit of the brow being white as\nday and the hair black as night.\n\n[FN#128]  Such a statement may read absurdly to the West but it\nis true in the East. \"Selim\" had seen no woman's face unveiled,\nsave that of his sable mother Rosebud in Morier's Tale of Yeldoz,\nthe wicked woman (\"The Mirza,\" vol. iii. 135). The H. V. adds\nthat Alaeddin's mother was old and verily had little beauty even\nin her youth. So at the sight of the Princess he learnt that\nAllah had created women exquisite in loveliness and heart-\nensnaring; and at first glance the shaft of love pierced his\nheart and he fell to the ground afaint He loved her with a\nthousand lives and, when his mother questioned him, \"his lips\nformed no friendship with his speech.\"\n\n[FN#129]  \"There is not a present (Teshurah) to bring to the Man\nof God\" (1 Sam. ix. 7), and Menachem explains Teshurah as a gift\noffered with the object of being admitted to the presence. See\nalso the offering of oil to the King in Isaiah lvii. 9. Even in\nMaundriell's Day Travels (p. 26) it was counted uncivil to visit\na dignitary without an offering in hand.\n\n[FN#130]  As we shall see further on, the magical effect of the\nRing and the Lamp extend far and wide over the physique and\nmorale of the owner: they turn a \"raw laddie\" into a finished\ncourtier, warrior, statesman, etc.\n\n[FN#131]  In Eastern states the mere suspicion of having such an\narticle would expose the suspected at least to torture. Their\npractical system of treating \"treasure trove,\" as I saw when\nserving with my regiment in Gujar\u00e1t (Guzerat), is at once to\nimprison and \"molest\" the finder, in order to make sure that he\nhas not hidden any part of his find.\n\n[FN#132]  Here the MS. text is defective, the allusion is, I\nsuppose, to the Slave of the Lamp.\n\n[FN#133]  In the H. V. the King retired into his private\napartment; and, dismissing all save the Grand Wazir, \"took\ncognisance of special matters\" before withdrawing to the Harem.\n\n[FN#134]  The lev\u00e9e, Divan or Darb\u00e1r being also a lit de justice\nand a Court of Cassation: See vol. i. 29.\n\n[FN#135]  All this is expressed by the Arabic in one word\n\"Tamann\u00e1.\" Galland adds pour marquer qu'il etait pr\u00eat \u00e1 perdre\ns'il y manquait; and thus he conveys a wrong idea.\n\n[FN#136]  This would be still the popular address, nor is it\nconsidered rude or slighting. In John (ii. 4) \"Atto,\" the Heb.\nEshah, is similarly used, not complimentarily, but in popular\nspeech.\n\n[FN#137]  This sounds ridiculous enough in English, but not in\nGerman, e.g. Deine K\u02dcnigliche Hoheit is the formula de rigueur\nwhen an Austrian officer, who always addresses brother-soldiers\nin the familiar second person, is speaking to a camarade who is\nalso a royalty.\n\n[FN#138]  \"Sur\u00e1yy\u00e1t (lit. = the Pleiades) and \"Sham'\u00e1d\u00edn\" a\nwould-be Arabic plur. of the Persian \"Sham'ad\u00e1n\"=candlestick,\nchandelier, for which more correctly Sham'ad\u00e1n\u00e1t is used.\n\n[FN#139]  i.e., betrothed to her--j'agr\u2044e la proposition, says\nGalland.\n\n[FN#140]  Here meaning Eunuch-officers and officials. In the\ncdlxxvith Night of this volume the word is incorrectly written\n gh\u00e1t in the singular.\n\n[FN#141]  In the H. V. Alaeddin on hearing this became as if a\nthunderbolt had stricken him, and losing consciousness, swooned\naway.\n\n[FN#142]  These calls for food at critical times, and oft-\nrecurring allusions to eating are not yet wholly obsolete amongst\nthe civilised of the xixth century. The ingenious M. Jules Verne\noften enlivens a tedious scene by Dejeunons! And French\ntravellers, like English, are not unready to talk of food and\ndrink, knowing that the subject is never displeasing to their\nreaders.\n\n[FN#143]  The H. V. gives a sketch of the wedding. \"And when the\nceremonies ended at the palace with pomp and parade and pageant,\nand the night was far spent, the eunuchs led the Wazir's son into\nthe bridal chamber. He was the first to seek his couch; then the\nQueen his mother-in-law, came into him leading the bride, and\nfollowed by her suite. She did with her virgin daughter as\nparents are wont to do, removed her wedding-raiment, and donning\na night-dress, placed her in her bridegroom's arms. Then, wishing\nher all joy, she with her ladies went away and shut the door. At\nthat instant came the Jinni,\" etc.\n\n[FN#144]  The happy idea of the wedding night in the water-closet\nis repeated from the tale of Nur-al-D\u00edn Ali Hasan (vol. i. 221),\nand the mishap of the Hunchback bridegroom.\n\n[FN#145]  For the old knightly practice of sleeping with a drawn\nsword separating man and maid see vol. vii. 353 and Mr.\nClouston's \"Popular Tales and Fictions,\" vol. i. 316. In Poland\nthe intermediary who married by procuration slept alongside the\nbride in all his armour. The H. V. explains, \"He (Alaeddin) also\nlay a naked sword between him and the Princess so she might\nperceive that he was ready to die by that blade should he attempt\nto do aught of villainy by the bride.\"\n\n[FN#146]  Galland says: Ils ne s'aper\u00e7urent que de l'\u2044branlement\ndu lit et que de leur transport d'un lieu \u00e1 l'autre: c'\u2044tait bien\nassez pour leur donner une frayeur qu'il est ais\u2044 d'imaginer.\n\n[FN#147]  Galland very unnecessarily makes the Wazir's son pass\ninto the wardrobe (garderobe) to dress himself.\n\n[FN#148]  Professional singing and dancing girls: Properly the\nword is the fem. Of ' lim = a learned man; but it has been\nanglicised by Byron's\n\n          \"The long chibouque's dissolving cloud supply\n          Where dance the Almahs to wild minstrelsy.\"\n            --(The Corsair, ii. 2.)\n\nThey go about the streets with unveiled faces and are seldom\nadmitted into respectable Harems, although on festal occasions\nthey perform in the court or in front of the house, but even this\nis objected to by the Mrs. Grundy of Egypt. Lane (M.E. chap.\nxviii.) derives with Saint Jerome the word from the Heb. or\nPhoenician Almah = a virgin, a girl, a singing- girl; and thus\nexplains \"Al\u00e1moth\" in Psalms xlvi. and I Chron. xv. 20. Parkhurst\n(s.v. 'Alamah = an undeflowered virgin) renders Job xxxix. 30,\n\"the way of a man with a maid\" (bi-\u00e1lmah). The way of a man in\nhis virgin state, shunning youthful lust and keeping himself\n\"pure and unspotted.\"\n\n[FN#149]  The text reads \"Rafa' \" (he raised) \"al-Bashkh\u00e1nah\"\nwhich in Suppl. Nights (ii. 119) is a hanging, a curtain.\nApparently it is a corruption of the Pers. \"Paskhkh\u00e1nah,\" a\nmosquito-curtain.\n\n[FN#150]  The father suspected that she had not gone to bed a\nclean maid.\n\n[FN#151]  Arab. Aysh = Ayyu Shayyin and Laysh = li ayyi Shayyin.\nThis vulgarism, or rather popular corruption, is of olden date\nand was used by such a purist as Al-Mutanabbi in such a phrase as\n\"Aysh Khabara-k?\" = how art thou? See Ibn Khallikan, iii. 79.\n\n[FN#152]  In the H. V. the Minister sends the Chob-d\u00e1r= = rod-\nbearer, mace-bearer, usher, etc.\n\n[FN#153]  In the text S\u00e1hal for Sahal, again the broad \"Doric\" of\nSyria.\n\n[FN#154]  Arab. Dahab ramli = gold dust washed out of the sand,\nplacer-gold. I must excuse myself for using this Americanism,\nproperly a diluvium or deposit of sand, and improperly (Bartlett)\na find of drift gold. The word, like many mining terms in the Far\nWest, is borrowed from the Spaniards; it is not therefore one of\nthe many American vulgarisms which threaten hopelessly to defile\nthe pure well of English speech.\n\n[FN#155]  Abra. \"Ratl,\" by Europeans usually pronounced \"Rotl\"\n(Rotolo).\n\n[FN#156]  In the H. V. she returns from the bazar; and, \"seeing\nthe house filled with so many persons in goodliest attire,\nmarvelled greatly. Then setting down the meat lately bought she\nwould have taken off her veil, but Alaeddin prevented her and\nsaid,\" etc.\n\n[FN#157]  The word is popularly derived from Serai in Persian = a\npalace; but it comes from the Span. and Port. Cerrar = to shut\nup, and should be written with the reduplicated liquid.\n\n[FN#158]  In the H. V. the dresses and ornaments of the slaves\nwere priced at ten millions (Kar\u00far a crore) of gold coins. I have\nnoticed that Messer Marco \"Milione\" did not learn his high\nnumerals in Arabia, but that India might easily have taught them\nto him.\n\n[FN#159]  Arab. \"R\u00e1ih yas\u00edr,\" peasant's language.\n\n[FN#160]  Arab. K\u00e1'ah, the apodyterium or undressing room upon\nwhich the vestibule of the Hammam opens. See the plan in Lane's\nM. E. chaps. xvi. The K\u00e1r'ah is now usually called \"Maslakh\" =\nstripping-room.\n\n[FN#161]  Arab. \"Hammam-hu\" = went through all the operations of\nthe Hammam, scraping, kneading, soaping, wiping and so forth.\n\n[FN#162]  For this aphrodisiac see vol. vi. 60. The subject of\naphrodisiacs in the East would fill a small library: almost every\nmedical treatise ends in a long disquisition upon fortifiers,\nprovocatives' etc. We may briefly divide them into three great\nclasses. The first is the medicinal, which may be either external\nor internal. The second is the mechanical, such as scarification'\nflagellation, and the application of insects as practiced by\ncertain savage races. There is a venerable Joe Miller of an old\nBrahmin whose young wife always insisted, each time before he\npossessed her, upon his being stung by a bee in certain parts.\nThe third is magical superstitious and so forth\n\n[FN#163]  This may sound exaggerated to English ears, but a petty\nIndian Prince, such as the G\u00e1ikw\u00e1r, or Rajah of Baroda, would be\npreceded in state processions by several led horses all whose\nhousings and saddles were gold studded with diamonds. The sight\nmade one's mouth water.\n\n[FN#164]  i.e. the 'Arab al-'Arb\u00e1; for which see vols. i. 112; v.\n101.\n\n[FN#165]  Arab. \"Al-Kand\u00edl al-'aj\u00edb:\" here its magical virtues\nare specified and remove many apparent improbabilities from the\ntale.\n\n[FN#166]  This was the highest of honours. At Abyssinian Harar\neven the Grandees were compelled to dismount at the door of the\nroyal \"compound.\" See my \"First Footsteps in East Africa,\" p.\n296.\n\n[FN#167]  \"The right hand\" seems to me a European touch in\nGalland's translation, leur chef mit Aladdin a sa droite. Amongst\nMoslems the great man sits in the sinistral corner of the Divan\nas seen from the door, so the place of honour is to his left.\n\n[FN#168]  Arab. \"M\u00fasik\u00e1,\" classically \"Musik\u00ed\" ={Greek}: the\nPers. form is M\u00fasik\u00e1r; and the  Arab. equivalent is Al-Lahn. In\nthe H. V. the King made a signal and straightway drums (dhol) and\ntrumpets (traf\u00edr) and all manner wedding instruments struck up on\nevery side.\n\n[FN#169]  Arab.  Marmar Sum\u00e1ki=porphyry of which ancient Egypt\nsupplied the finest specimens. I found a vein of it in the Anti-\nLibanus. Strange to say, the quarries which produced the far-\nfamed giallo antico, verd' antico (serpentine limestone) and\nrosso antico (mostly a porphyry) worked by the old Nilotes, are\nnow unknown to us.\n\n[FN#170]  i.e. velvets with gold embroidery: see vol. viii. 201.\n\n[FN#171]  The Arabic says, \"There was a kiosque with four-and-\ntwenty alcoves (L\u00edw\u00e1n, for which see vols. iv. 71, vi. 347) all\nbuilded of emerald, etc., and one remained with the kiosque\n(kushk) unfinished.\" I adopt Galland's reading salon \u00e1 vingt-\nquatre crois\u2044es which are mentioned in the Arab. text towards the\nend of the tale, and thus avoid the confusion between kiosque and\nwindow. In the H. V. there is a domed belvedere (b\u00e1rah-dari-i-\ngumbaz-d\u00e1r), four-sided, with six doors on each front (i. e.\ntwenty-four), and all studded with diamonds, etc.\n\n[FN#172]  In Persia this is called \"P\u00e1-and\u00e1z,\" and must be\nprepared for the Shah when he deigns to visit a subject. It is\nalways of costly stuffs, and becomes the perquisite of the royal\nattendants.\n\n[FN#173]  Here the European hand again appears to me: the Sultan\nas a good Moslem should have made the Wuz\u00fa-ablution and prayed\nthe dawn-prayers  before doing anything worldly.\n\n[FN#174]  Arab. F\u00ed ghuz\u00fani z\u00e1lika,\" a peculiar phrase, Ghazn=a\ncrease, a wrinkle.\n\n[FN#175]  In the H. V. the King \"marvelled to see Alaeddin's\nmother without her veil and magnificently adorned with costly\njewels and said in his mind, 'Methought she was a grey-haired\ncrone, but I find her still in the prime of life and comely to\nlook upon, somewhat after the fashion of Badr al-Bud\u00far.' \"  This\nalso was one of the miracles of the Lamp.\n\n[FN#176]  For this word see vols. i. 46, vii. 326. A Joe Miller\nis told in Western India of an old General Officer boasting his\nknowledge of Hindostani. \"How do you say, Tell a plain story,\nGeneral?\" asked one of the hearers, and the answer was, \"Mayd\u00e1n\nk\u00ed b\u00e1t bolo!\" = \"speak a word about the plain\" (or level space).\n\n[FN#177]  The prehistoric Arabs: see supra p. 98.\n\n[FN#178]  Popularly, Jer\u00edd, the palm-frond used as javelin: see\nvol. vi. 263.\n\n[FN#179]  In order to keep off the evil eye, one of the functions\nof iron and steel: see vol. ii. 316.\n\n[FN#180]  The H. V. adds, \"Little did the Princess know that the\nsingers were fairies whom the Slave of the Lamp had brought\ntogether.\"\n\n[FN#181]  Alexander the Great: see v. 252, x. 57. The H. V. adds,\n\"Then only one man and one woman danced together, one with other,\ntill midnight, when Alaeddin and the Princess stood up, for it\nwas the wont of China in those days that bride and bridegroom\nperform together in presence of the wedding company.\"\n\n[FN#182]  The exceptional reserve of this and other descriptions\nmakes M. H. Zotenberg suspect that the tale was written for one\nof the Mameluke Princesses: I own to its modesty but I doubt that\nsuch virtue would have recommended it to the dames in question.\nThe H. V. adds a few details:--\"Then, when the bride and\nbridegroom had glanced and gazed each at other's face, the\nPrincess rejoiced with excessive joy to behold his comeliness,\nand he exclaimed, in the courtesy of his gladness, 'O happy me,\nwhom thou deignest, O Queen of the Fair, to honour despite mine\nunworth, seeing that in thee all charms and graces are\nperfected.' \"\n\n[FN#183]  The term has not escaped ridicule amongst Moslems. A\ncommon fellow having stood in his way the famous wit Ab\u00fa al-'Ayn\u00e1\nasked \"What is that?\" \"A man of the Sons of Adam\" was the reply.\n\"Welcome, welcome,\" cried the other, \"Allah grant thee length of\ndays. I deemed that all his sons were dead.\" See Ibn Khallikan\niii. 57.\n\n[FN#184]  This address to an inanimate object (here a window) is\nhighly idiomatic and must be cultivated by the practical Arabist.\nIn the H. V. the unfinished part is the four-and-twentieth door\nof the fictitious (ja'al\u00ed) palace.\n\n[FN#185]  This is true Orientalism, a personification or\nincarnation which Galland did not think proper to translate.\n\n[FN#186]  Arab. \"La'ab al-And\u00e1b;\" the latter word is from \"Nadb\"\n= brandishing or throwing the javelin.\n\n[FN#187]  The \"mothers\" are the prime figures, the daughters\nbeing the secondary. For the \" 'Ilm al-Ram!\" = (Science of the\nsand) our geomancy, see vol. iii. 269, and D'Herbelot's sub. v.\nRaml or Reml.\n\n[FN#188]  This is from Galland, whose certaine boisson chaude\nevidently means tea. It is preserved in the H.V.\n\n[FN#189]  i.e. his astrolabe, his \"Z\u00edj\" or table of the stars,\nhis almanack, etc. For a highly fanciful derivation of the\n\"Arstable\" see Ibn Khallikan (iii. 580). He makes it signify\n\"balance or lines (Pers. 'Astur') of the sun,\" which is called\n\"L\u00e1b\" as in the case of wicked Queen L\u00e1b (The Nights, vol. vii.\n296). According to him the Astrolabe was suggested to Ptolemy by\nan armillary sphere which had accidentally been flattened by the\nhoof of his beast: this is beginning late in the day, the\ninstrument was known to the ancient Assyrians. Chardin (Voyages\nii. 149) carefully describes the Persian variety of--\n\n          \"The cunning man highs Sidrophil\n\n(as Will. Lilly was called). Amongst other things he wore at his\ngirdle an astrolabe not bigger than the hollow of a man's hand,\noften two to three inches in diameter and looking at a distance\nlike a medal.\" These men practiced both natural astrology =\nastronomy, as well as judicial astrology which foretells events\nand of which Kepler said that \"she, albeit a fool, was the\ndaughter of a wise mother, to whose support and life the silly\nmaid was indispensable.\" Isidore of Seville (A. D. 600-636) was\nthe first to distinguish between the two branches, and they\nflourished side by side till Newton's day. Hence the many\nastrological terms in our tongue, e.g. consider, contemplate,\ndisaster, jovial, mercurial, saturnine, etc.\n\n[FN#190]  In the H. V. \"New brass lamps for old ones! who will\nexchange ?\" So in the story of the Fisherman's son, a Jew who had\nbeen tricked of a cock, offers to give new rings for old rings.\nSee Jonathan Scott's excerpts from the Wortley-Montague MSS. vol.\nvi. pp. 210 12 This is one of the tales which I have translated\nfor vol. iv.\n\n[FN#191]  The H. V. adds that Alaeddin loved to ride out a-\nhunting and had left the city for eight days whereof three had\npassed by.\n\n[FN#192]  Galland makes her say, H\u2044 bien folle, veux-tu me dire\npourqoui tu ris? The H. V. renders \"Cease, giddy head, why\nlaughest thou?\" and the vulgate \"Well, giggler,\" said the\nPrincess, etc.\n\n[FN#193]  Nothing can be more improbable than this detail, but\nupon such abnormal situations almost all stones, even in our most\nmodern \"Society-novels,\" depend and the cause is clear--without\nthem there would be no story. And the modern will, perhaps,\nsuggest that \"the truth was withheld for a higher purpose, for\nthe working out of certain ends.\" In the H. V Alaeddin, when\nabout to go a-hunting, always placed the Lamp high up on the\ncornice with all care lest any touch it.\n\n[FN#194]  The H. V. adds, \"The Magician, when he saw the Lamp, at\nonce knew that it must be the one he sought; for he knew that all\nthings, great and small, appertaining to the palace\n\n[FN#195]  In truly Oriental countries the Wazir is expected to\nknow everything, and if he fail in this easy duty he may find\nhimself in sore trouble.\n\n[FN#196]  i.e. must he obeyed.\n\n[FN#197]  We see that \"China\" was in those days the normal\nOriental \"despotism tempered by assassination.\"\n\n[FN#198]  In the H. V. Alaeddin promises, \"if I fail to find and\nfetch the Princess, I will myself cut off my head and cast it\nbefore the throne.\" Hindus are adepts in suicide and this self-\ndecapitation, which sounds absurd further West, is quite possible\nto them.\n\n[FN#199]  In Galland Alaeddin unconsciously rubbed the ring\nagainst un petit roc, to which he clung in order to prevent\nfalling into the stream. In the H. V. \"The bank was high and\ndifficult of descent and the youth would have rolled down\nheadlong had he not struck upon a rock two paces from the bottom\nand remained hanging over the water. This mishap was of the\nhappiest for during his fall he struck the stone and rubbed his\nring against it,\" etc.\n\n[FN#200]  In the H. V. he said, \"First save me that I fall not\ninto the stream and then tell me where is the pavilion thou\nbuiltest for her and who hath removed it.\"\n\n[FN#201]  Alluding to the preparatory washing, a mere matter of\ncleanliness which precedes the formal Wuz\u00fa-ablution.\n\n[FN#202]  In the H. V. the Princess ends with, \"I had made this\nresolve that should he approach me with the design to win his\nwish perforce, I would destroy my life. By day and by night I\nabode in fear of him; but now at the sight of thee my heart is\nheartened.\"\n\n[FN#203]  The Fellah had a natural fear of being seen in fine\ngear, which all would have supposed to be stolen goods; and\nAlaeddin was justified in taking it perforce, because necessitas\nnon habet legem. See a similar exchange of dress in Spitta-Bey's\n\"Contes Arabes Modernes,\" p. 91. In Galland the peasant when\npressed consents; and in the H. V. Alaeddin persuades him by a\ngift of money.\n\n[FN#204]  i.e. which would take effect in the shortest time.\n\n[FN#205]  Her modesty was startled by the idea of sitting: at\nmeat with a strange man and allowing him to make love to her.\n\n[FN#206]  In the text Kid\u00ed, pop. for Ka-z\u00e1lika. In the H. V. the\nMagician replies to the honeyed speech of the Princess, \"O my\nlady, we in Africa have not so gracious customs as the men of\nChina. This day I have learned of thee a new courtesy which I\nshall ever keep in mind.\"\n\n[FN#207]  Galland makes the Princess poison the Maghrabi, which\nis not gallant. The H. V. follows suit and describes the powder\nas a mortal poison.\n\n[FN#208]  Contrast this modesty with the usual scene of reunion\nafter severance, as in the case of Kamar al-Zam\u00e1n and immodest\nQueen Bud\u00far, vol. iii. pp. 302-304.\n\n[FN#209]  His dignity forbade him to walk even the length of a\ncarpet: see vol. vii. for this habit of the Mameluke Beys. When\nHarun al-Rashid made his famous pilgrimage afoot from Baghdad to\nMeccah (and he was the last of the Caliphs who performed this\nrite), the whole way was spread with a \"P\u00e1-and\u00e1z\" of carpets and\ncostly cloths.\n\n[FN#210]  The proverb suggests our \"par nobile fratrum,\" a pair\nresembling each other as two halves of a split bean.\n\n[FN#211]  In the H. V. \"If the elder Magician was in the East,\nthe other was in the West; but once a year, by their skill in\ngeomancy, they had tidings of each other.\"\n\n[FN#212]  The act was religiously laudable, but to the Eastern,\nas to the South European mind, fair play is not a jewel; moreover\nthe story-teller may insinuate that vengeance would be taken only\nby foul and unlawful means--the Black Art, perjury, murder and so\nforth\n\n[FN#213]  For this game, a prime favourite in Egypt, see vol. vi.\n145, De Sacy (Chrestomathie i. 477) and his authorities Hyde,\nSyntagma Dissert. ii. 374, P. Labat, \"Memoires du Chev\nd'Arvieux,\" iii. 321; Thevenot, \"Voyage du Levant,\" p. 107, and\nNiebuhr, \"Voyages,\" i. 139, Plate 25, fig. H.\n\n[FN#214]  Evidently=\"(jeu de) dames\" (supposed to have been\ninvented in Paris during the days of the Regency: see Littr\u2044);\nand, although in certain Eastern places now popular, a term of\nEuropean origin. It is not in Galland. According to Ibn Khallikan\n(iii. 69) \"Nard\" = tables, arose with King Ardash\u00edr son of Babuk,\nand was therefore called Nardash\u00edr (Nard Ardash\u00edr? ). He designed\nit as an image of the world and its people, so the board had\ntwelve squares to represent the months; the thirty pieces or men\nrepresented the days, and the dice were the emblems of Fate and\nLot.\n\n[FN#215]  i.e. a weaner, a name of good omen for a girl-child:\nsee vol. vi. 145. The Hindi translator, Tot\u00e1r\u00e1m Shayy\u00e1n, calls\nher Ham\u00eddah = the Praiseworthy.\n\n[FN#216]  Arab. Kir\u00e1m\u00e1t: see vols. ii. 237; iv. 45. The\nNecromancer clearly smells a rat holding with Diderot:\n\n          De par le Roi! Defense \u00e1 Dieu\n          De faire miracle en ce lieu;\n\nand the stage properties afterwards found with the holy woman,\nsuch as the gallipot of colouring ointment, justify his\nsuspicion.\n\n[FN#217]  \" 'Aj\u00e1ib\" plur. of \" 'Aj\u00edb,\" a common exclamation\namongst the populace. It is used in Persian as well as in Arabic.\n\n[FN#218]  Evidently la force de l'imagination, of which a curious\nillustration was given in Paris during the debauched days of the\nSecond Empire. Before a highly \"fashionable\" assembly of men\nappeared a youth in fleshings who sat down upon a stool, bared\nhis pudenda and closed his eyes when, by \"force of fancy,\"\nerection and emission took place. But presently it was suspected\nand proved that the stool was hollow and admitted from below a\nhand whose titillating fingers explained the phenomenon.\n\n[FN#219]  a Moslems are curious about sleeping postures and the\npopular saying is:--Lying upon the right side is proper to Kings;\nupon the left to Sages, to sleep supine is the position of\nAllah's Saints and prone upon the belly is peculiar to the\nDevils.\n\n[FN#220]  This \" 'As\u00e1,\" a staff five to six feet long, is one of\nthe properties of Moslem Saints and reverends who, imitating that\nfurious old Puritan, Caliph Omar, make and are allowed to make a\npretty liberal distribution of its caresses.\n\n[FN#221]  i.e. as she was in her own home.\n\n[FN#222]  Arab. \"Sul\u00fak\" a Sufistical expression, the road to\nsalvation, &c.\n\n[FN#223]  In the H. V. her diet consisted of dry bread and\nfruits.\n\n[FN#224]  This is the first mention of the windows in the Arabic\nMS.\n\n[FN#225]  For this \"Roc\" of the older writers see vols. v. 122;\nvi. 16-49. I may remind the reader that the O. Egyptian \"Rokh,\"\nor \"Rukh,\" by some written \"Rekhit,\" whose ideograph is a\nmonstrous bird with one claw raised, also denotes pure wise\nSpirits, the Magi, &c. I know a man who derives from it our\n\"rook\" = beak and parson.\n\n[FN#226]  In the H. V he takes the Lamp from his bosom, where he\nhad ever kept it since his misadventure with the African Magician\n\n[FN#227]  Here the mythical Rukh is mixed up with the mysterious\nbird S\u00edmurgh, for which see vol. x. 117.\n\n[FN#228]  The H. V. adds, \"hoping thereby that thou and she and\nall the household should fall into perdition.\"\n\n[FN#229]  Rank mesmerism, which has been practiced in the East\nfrom ages immemorial. In Christendom Santa Guglielma worshipped\nat Brunate, \"works many miracles, chiefly healing aches of head.\"\nIn the H. V. Alaeddin feigns that he is ill and fares to the\nPrincess with his head tied up.\n\n[FN#230]  Mr. Morier in \"The Mirza\" (vol. i. 87) says, \"Had the\nArabian Nights' Entertainments, with all their singular fertility\nof invention and never-ending variety, appeared as a new book in\nthe present day, translated literally and not adapted to European\ntaste in the manner attempted in M. Galland's translation, I\ndoubt whether they would have been tolerated, certainly not read\nwith the avidity they are, even in the dress with which he has\nclothed them, however imperfect that dress maybe.\" But in\nMorier's day the literal translation was so despised that an\nEastern book was robbed of half its charms, both of style and\nidea.\n\n[FN#231] In the MS. Of the Biblioth\u00e8que National, Supplement\nArabe (No. 2523, vol. ii. fol. 147), the story which follows\n\"Aladdin\" is that of the Ten Wazirs, for which see Supp. Nights\nii.  In Galland the Histoire de Codadad et des ses Fr\u00e8res comes\nnext to the tale of Zayn al-Asnam: I have changed the sequence in\norder that the two stories directly translated from the Arabic\nmay be together.\n\n[FN#232] M. Hermann Zotenberg lately informed me that \"Khudadad\nand his Brothers\" is to be found in a Turkish MS., \"Al-Faraj ba'd\nal-Shiddah\"--Joy after Annoy--in the Biblioth\u00e8que Nationale of\nParis. But that work is a mere derivation from the Persian \"Haz\u00e1r\no yek Roz\" for which see my vol. x. p.441. The name Khudadad is\ncommon to most Eastern peoples, the Sansk. Devadatta, the Gr.\n{Greek} and Dorotheus; the Lat. Deodatus, the Ital. Diodato, and\nSpan. Diosdado, the French Dieu-donn\u2044, and the Arab.-Persic\nAllad\u00e1d, D\u00edvd\u00e1d and Khud\u00e1baksh. Khud\u00e1 is the mod. Pers. form of\nthe old Khud\u00e1\u00ed=sovereign, king, as in M\u00e1h-i-Khud\u00e1\u00ed=the sovereign\nmoon, K\u00e1m-Khud\u00e1\u00ed=master of his passions, etc.\n\n[FN#233] Lit. Homes (or habitations) of Bakr (see vol. v. 66), by\nthe Turks pronounced \"Diy\u00e1r-i-Bek\u00edr.\" It is the most famous of\nthe four provinces into which Mesopotamia (Heb. Naharaym, Arab.\nAl-Jaz\u00edrah) is divided by the Arabs; viz: Diy\u00e1r Bakr (capital\nAm\u00eddah); Diy\u00e1r Modhar (cap. Rakkah or Aracta); Diy\u00e1r Rab\u00ed'ah\n(cap. Nisibis) and Diy\u00e1r al-Jaz\u00edrah or Al-Jaz\u00edrah (cap. Mosul).\nAs regards the \"King of Harr\u00e1n,\" all these ancient cities were at\nsome time the capitals of independent chiefs who styled\nthemselves royalties.\n\n[FN#234] The Heb. Charran, the Carrh  of the classics where,\naccording to the Moslems, Abraham was born, while the Jews and\nChristians make him emigrate thither from \"Ur (hod. Mughayr) of\nthe Chaldees.\" Hence his Arab. title \"Ibrahim al-Harr\u00e1ni.\" My\nlate friend Dr. Beke had a marvellous theory that this venerable\nhistoric Harr\u00e1n was identical with a miserable village to the\neast of Damascus because the Fellahs call it Harr\u00e1n\nal-'Aw\u00e1m\u00edd--of the Columns--from some Gr co-Roman remnants of a\npaltry provincial temple. See \"Jacob's Flight,\" etc., London,\nLongmans, 1865.\n\n[FN#235] P\u00edrozah=turquoise, is the Persian, Fir\u00fazah and Firuzakh\n(De Sacy, Chrest. ii. 84) the Arab. forms. The stone is a\nfavourite in the East where, as amongst the Russians (who affect\nto despise the Eastern origin of their blood to which they owe so\nmuch of its peculiar merit), it is supposed to act talisman\nagainst wounds and death in battle; and the Persians, who hold it\nto be a guard against the Evil Eye, are fond of inscribing\n\"turquoise of the old rock\" with one or more of the \"Holy Names.\"\nOf these talismans a modern Spiritualist asks, \"Are rings and\ncharms and amulets magnetic, to use an analogue for what we\ncannot understand, and has the immemorial belief in the power of\nrelics a natural not to say a scientific basis?\"\n\n[FN#236] Samaria is a well-known name amongst Moslems, who call\nthe city Shamr\u00edn and Shamr\u00fan. It was built, according to Ibn\nBatrik, upon Mount Samir by Amri who gave it the first name; and\nthe Tar\u00edkh Sam\u00edr\u00ed, by Aba al-Fath Ab\u00fa al-Hasan, is a detailed\naccount of its garbled annals. As Nabl\u00fas (Neapolis of Herod.,\nalso called by him Sebaste) it is now familiar to the Cookite.\n\n[FN#237] In the text Zangi-i-Adam-kh'w\u00e1r afterwards called\nHabashi=an Abyssinian. Galland simply says un negre. In India the\n\"Habsh\u00ed\" (chief) of Jinjirah (=Al-Jazirah, the Island) was\nadmiral of the Grand Moghul's fleets. These negroids are still\ndreaded by Hind\u00fas and Hind\u00eds and, when we have another \"Sepoy\nMutiny,\" a few thousands of them bought upon the Zanzibar coast,\ndressed, drilled and officered by Englishmen, will do us yeomans'\nservice.\n\n[FN#238] This seems to be a fancy name for a country: the term is\nPersian=the Oceanland or a seaport town: from \"Dary\u00e1\" the sea and\nb\u00e1r=a region, tract, as in Zanzib\u00e1r=Black-land. The learned Weil\nexplains it (in loco) by Gegend der Brunnen, brunnengleicher ort,\nbut I cannot accept Scott's note (iv. 400), \"Signifying the\nseacoast of every country; and hence the term is applied by\nOriental geographers to the coast of Malabar.\"\n\n[FN#239] The onager, confounded by our older travellers with the\nzebra, is the G\u00far-i-kh\u00e1r of Persia, where it is the noblest game\nfrom which kings did not disdain to take a cognomen, e.g.,\nBahr\u00e1m-i-G\u00far. It is the \"wild ass\" of Jeremiah (ii. 24: xiv. 6).\nThe meat is famous in poetry for combining the flavours peculiar\nto all kinds of flesh (Ibn Khallikan iii. 117; iii. 239, etc.)\nand is noticed by Herodotus (Clio. cxxxiii.) and by Xenophon\n(Cyro. lib. 1) in sundry passages: the latter describes the\nrelays of horses and hounds which were used in chasing it then as\nnow. The traveller Olearius (A. D. 1637) found it more common\nthan in our present day: Shah Abbas turned thirty-two wild asses\ninto an enclosure where they were shot as an item of\nentertainment to the ambassadors at his court. The skin of the\nwild ass's back produces the famous shagreen, a word seemingly\nderived from the Pers. \"Saghr\u00ed,\" e.g. \"Kyafash-i-Saghri\"=slippers\nof shagreen, fine wear fit for a \"young Duke\". See in Ibn\nKhallikan (iv. 245) an account of a \"J\u00far\" (the Arabised \"G\u00far\")\neight hundred years old.\n\n[FN#240] \"Dasht-i-l\u00e1-siw\u00e1-H\u00fa\"=a desert wherein is none save He\n(Allah), a howling wilderness.\n\n[FN#241] Per. \"N\u00e1z o and\u00e1z\"=coquetry, in a half-honest sense. The\nPersian \"K\u00e1k\u00e1 Siy\u00e1h,\" i.e. \"black brother\" (a domestic negro)\npronounces N\u00e1z\u00ed-n\u00faz\u00ed.\n\n[FN#242] In the text Nimak-har\u00e1m: on this subject see vol. viii.\n12.\n\n[FN#243] i.e., an Arab of noble strain: see vol. iii. 72.\n\n[FN#244] In the text \"Kazz\u00e1k\"=Cossacks, bandits, mounted\nhighwaymen; the word is well known in India, where it is written\nin two different ways, and the late Mr. John Shakespear in his\nexcellent Dictionary need hardly have marked the origin \"U\"\n(unknown).\n\n[FN#245] Here and below the Hindostani version mounts the lady\nupon a camel (\"Ushtur\" or \"Unth\") which is not customary in India\nexcept when criminals are led about the bazar. An elephant would\nhave been in better form.\n\n[FN#246] The Ashraf\u00ed (Port. Xerafim) is a gold coin whose value\nhas greatly varied with its date from four shillings upwards. In\nThe (true) Nights we find (passim) that, according to the minting\nof the VIth Ommiade, 'Abd al-Malik bin Marw\u00e1n (A.H. 65-86=A.D.\n685-703), the coinage of Baghdad consisted of three metals. \"Ita\nquoque peregrina suis nummis nomina posuit, aureum Dinar\ndenarium, argentem Dirhen (lege dirham), Drachma,  reum fols\n(fuls), follem appellans. * * * Nam Vera moneta aurea nomine\nfollis lignabatur, ut  reorum sub Aarone Raschido cussorum qui\nhoc nomen servavit.\" (O. G. Tychsen p. 8. Introduct. in Rem\nnumariam Muhammedanorum.) For the dinar, daric or misk\u00e1l see The\nNights, vol i. 32; ix. 294; for the dirham, i. 33, ii. 316, etc.;\nand for the Fals or Fils=a fish scale, a spangle of metal, vol.\ni. 321. In the debased currency of the Maroccan Empire the Fals\nof copper or iron, a substantial coin, is worth 2,160 to the\nFrench five-franc piece.\n\n[FN#247] In the Hindi, as in Galland's version, the horse is\nnaturally enough of Turcoman blood. I cannot but think that in\nIndia we have unwisely limited ourselves for cavalry remounts to\nthe Western market that exports chiefly the mongrel \"Gulf Arab\"\nand have neglected the far hardier animal, especially the G\u00fatd\u00e1n\nblood of the Tartar plains, which supply \"excellent horses whose\nspeed and bottom are\" say travellers in general, \"so justly\ncelebrated throughout Asia.\" Our predecessors were too wise to\n\"put all the eggs in one basket.\"\n\n[FN#248] An act of worship, see my Pilgrimage in which\n\"Taw\u00e1f\"=circuiting, is described in detail, ii. 38; iii. 2O1 et\nseqq. A counterpart of this scene is found in the Histoire du\nSultan Aqchid (Ikhshid) who determined to witness his own\nfuneral. Gauttier vol. i. pp. 134-139. Another and similar\nincident occurs in the \"Nineteenth Vezir's Story\" (pp. 213-18 of\nthe History of the Forty Vezirs, before alluded to): here Hasan\nof Basrah, an 'Alim who died in A.H. 110 (=A.D. 728) saw in\nvision (the \"drivel of dreams?\") folk of all conditions, sages,\nwarriors and moon-faced maids seeking, but in vain, to release\nthe sweet soul of the Prince who had perished.\n\n[FN#249] Here, after Moslem fashion, the mother ranks before the\nwife: \"A man can have many wives but only one mother.\" The idea\nis old amongst Easterns: see Herodotus and his Christian\ncommentators on the history of Intaphernes' wife (Thalia, cap.\ncxix). \"O King,\" said that lady of mind logical, \"I may get me\nanother mate if God will and other children an I lose these; but\nas my father and my mother are no longer alive, I may not by any\nmeans have another brother,\" etc., etc.\n\n[FN#250] In Galland the Histoire de Ganem, fils d'Abu A\u00a5oub,\nsurnomm\u2044 l'esclave d'Amour, precedes Zayn al-Asn\u00e1m. In the Arab\ntexts Ghanim bin Ayy\u00fab, the Thrall o' Love, occurs much earlier:\nsee The Nights vol. ii. 45.\n\nIt is curious to compare the conclusions of these tales with the\nformula of the latest specimens, the Contes Arabes Modernes of\nSpitta-Bey, e.g. \"And the twain lived together (p. iii.) and had\nsons and daughters (p. ii.), cohabiting with perfect harmony (f\u00ed\nal-Kam\u00e1l pp.42, 79); and at last they died and were buried and so\nendeth the story\" (wa khal\u00e1s p.161).\n\n[FN#251] In Galland and his translators the Adventures of\nKhudadad and his Brothers is followed by the Histoire du Dormeur\nEveill\u2044 which, as \"The Sleeper and the Waker,\" is to be found in\nthe first of my Supplemental Volumes, pp. 1-29. After this the\nlearned Frenchman introduced, as has been said, the Histoire de\nla Lampe merveilleuse or \"Alaeddin\" to which I have assigned, for\nreasons given in loco, a place before Khudadad.\n\n[FN#252] i.e. Daddy Abdullah, the former is used in Pers., Turk.\nand Hindostani for dad! dear! child! and for the latter, see vol.\nv. 141.\n\n[FN#253] Here the Arab. syn. of the Pers. \"Darwaysh,\" which\nEgyptians pronounce \"Darw\u00edsh.\" In the Nile-valley the once\nrevered title has been debased to an insult = \"poor devil\" (see\nPigrimage i., pp. 20-22); \"Fak\u00edr\" also has come to signify a\nKoran-chaunter.\n\n[FN#254] To \"Nakh\" is to make the camel kneel. See vo!. ii. 139,\nand its references.\n\n[FN#255] As a sign that he parted willingly with all his\npossessions.\n\n[FN#256] Arab. \"'Ubb\" prop.=the bulge between the breast and the\nouter robe which is girdled round the waist to make a pouch. See\nvol. viii. 205.\n\n[FN#257] Thirst very justly takes precedence of hunger: a man may\nfast for forty days, but with out water in a tropical country he\nwould die within a week. For a description of the horrors of\nthirst see my \"First Footsteps in East Africa,\" pp. 387-8.\n\n[FN#258] In Galland it is Sidi Nouman; in many English\ntranslations, as in the \"Lucknow\" (Newul Kishore Press, 1880), it\nhas become \"Sidi Nonman.\" The word has occurred in King Omar bin\nal-Nu'uman, vol. ii. 77 and 325, and vol. v. 74. For S\u00edd\u00ed = my\nlord, see vol. v. 283; Byron, in The Corsair, ii. 2, seems to\nmistake it for \"Sayyid.\"\n\n          High in his hall reclines the turban'd Seyd,\n          Around--the bearded chiefs he came to lead.\n\n[FN#259]  The Turco-English form of the Persian \"Pul\u00e1o.\"\n\n[FN#260] i.e. the secure (fem.). It was the name of the famous\nconcubine of Solomon to whom he entrusted his ring (vol. vi. 84),\nalso of the mother of Mohammed who having taken her son to\nAl-Medinah (Yathrib) died on the return journey. I cannot\nunderstand why the Apostle of Al-Islam, according to his\nbiographers and commentators, refused to pray for his parent's\nsoul, she having been born in Al-Fitrah (the interval between the\nfall of Christianity and the birth of Al-Islam), when he had not\nbegun to preach his \"dispensation.\"\n\n[FN#261] The cane-play: see vol. vi. 263.\n\n[FN#262] Galland has une Goule, i.e., a Gh\u00falah, a she-Gh\u00fal, an\nogress. But the lady was supping with a male of that species, for\nwhich see vols. i. 55; vi. 36.\n\n[FN#263] In the text \"Waz\u00edfah\" prop. = a task, a stipend, a\nsalary, but here = the \"Farz\" devotions which he considered to be\nhis duty. In Spitta-Bey (loc. cit. p. 218) it is = duty,\n\n[FN#264] For this scene which is one of every day in the East;\nsee Pilgrimage ii. pp. 52-54.\n\n[FN#265] This hate of the friend of man is inherited from Jewish\nancestors; and, wherever the Hebrew element prevails, the muzzle,\nwhich has lately made its appearance in London, is strictly\nenforced, as at Trieste. Amongst the many boons which\ncivilisation has conferred upon Cairo I may note hydrophobia;\nformerly unknown in Egypt the dreadful disease has lately caused\nmore than one death. In India sporadic cases have at rare times\noccurred in my own knowledge since 1845.\n\n[FN#266] In Galland \"Rougeau\" = (for Rougeaud?) a red-faced\n(man), etc., and in the English version \"Chance\": \"Bakht\" = luck,\ngood fortune.\n\n[FN#267] In the text \"Sarr\u00e1f\" = a money-changer. See vols. i.\n210; iv. 270.\n\n[FN#268] Galland has forgotten this necessary detail: see vol. i.\n30 and elsewhere. In Lane's story of the man metamorphosed to an\nass, the old woman, \"quickly covering her face, declared the\nfact.\"\n\n[FN#269] In the normal forms of this story, which Galland has\ntold very badly, the maiden would have married the man she saved.\n\n[FN#270] In other similar tales the injured one inflicts such\npenalty by the express command of his preserver who takes strong\nmeasures to ensure obedience.\n\n[FN#271] In the more finished tales of the true \"Nights\" the mare\nwould have been restored to human shape after giving the best\nsecurity for good conduct in time to come.\n\n[FN#272] i.e. Master Hasan the Rope-maker. Galland writes, after\nEuropean fashion, \"Hassan,\" for which see vol. i. 251; and for\n\"Khw\u00e1jah\" vol. vi. 146. \"Al-Habb\u00e1l\" was the cognomen of a learned\n\"H\u00e1fiz\" (= traditionist and Koran reader), Ab\u00fa Ish\u00e1k Ibrahim, in\nIbn Khall. ii. 262; for another see iv. 410.\n\n[FN#273] \"Sa'd\" = prosperity and \"Sa'd\u00ed' '= prosperous, the\nsurname of the \"Persian moralist,\" for whom see my friend F. F.\nArbuthnot's pleasant booklet, \"Persian Portraits\" (London\nQuaritch, 1887).\n\n[FN#274] This is true to nature as may be seen any day at Bombay\nThe crows are equally audacious, and are dangerous to men Iying\nwounded in solitary places.\n\n[FN#275] The Pers. \"Gil-i-sar-sh\u00fa\u00ed\" (=head-washing clay), the\nSindi \"Met,\" and the Arab \"Tafl,\" a kind of clay much used in\nPersian, Afghanistan, Sind, etc. Galland turns it into terre \u00e0\ndecrasser and his English translators into \"scouring sand which\nwomen use in baths.\" This argillaceous earth mixed with mustard\noil is locally used for clay and when rose-leaves and perfumes\nare used, it makes a tolerable wash-ball. See \"Scinde or The\nUnhappy Valley,\" i. 31.\n\n[FN#276] For the \"Cowrie\" (Cypr\u00a3a moneta) see vol. iv. 77. The\nB\u00e1d\u00e1m or B\u00edd\u00e1m (almond) used by way of small change in India, I\nhave noted elsewhere.\n\n[FN#277] Galland has \"un morceau de plomb,\" which in the Hind\u00ed\ntext becomes \"Sh\u00edshahk\u00e1pays\u00e1\" = a (pice) small coin of glass: the\ntranslator also terms it a \"Faddah,\" for which see Nusf (alias\n\"Nuss\"), vols. ii. 37, vi. 214 and ix. 139, 167. Glass tokens, by\nway of coins, were until late years made at Hebron, in Southern\nSyria.\n\n[FN#278] For the \"T\u00e1k\" or \"T\u00e1kah\" = the little wall-niche, see\nvol. vii. 361.\n\n[FN#279] In the French and English versions the coin is a bit of\nlead for weighting the net. For the \"Pays\u00e1\" (pice) = two\nfarthings, and in weight = half an ounce, see Herklot's Glossary,\np. xcviii.\n\n[FN#280] In the text \"bilisht\" = the long span between thumb-tip\nand minimus-tip. Galland says long plus d'une coud\u2044e et gros \u00e0\nproportion.\n\n[FN#281] For the diamond (Arab. \"Alm\u00e1s\" from {Greek}, and in Hind.\n\"H\u00edra\" and \"Pann\u00e1\") see vols. vi. 15, i. ix. 325, and in latter\ncorrect, \"Euritic,\" a misprint for \"dioritic.\" I still cannot\nbelieve diamond-cutting to be an Indian art, and I must hold that\nit was known to the ancients. It could not have been an\nunpolished stone, that \"Adamas notissimus\" which according to\nJuvenal (vi. 156) Agrippa gave to his sister. Maundeville (A.D.\n1322) has a long account of the mineral, \"so hard that no man can\npolish it,\" and called Hamese (\"Alm\u00e1s?\"). For Mr. Petrie and his\ntheory, see vol. ix. 325. In most places where the diamond has\nbeen discovered of late years it had been used as a magic stone,\ne.g., by the Pag\u2044s or medicine-men of the Brazil, or for\nchildren's playthings, which was the case with the South-African\n\"Caffres.\"\n\n[FN#282] These stones, especially the carbuncle, which give out\ndight in darkness are a commonplace of Eastern folk-lore. For\nluminous jewels in folk-lore, see Mr. Clouston (i. 412): the\nbelief is not wholly extinct in England, and I have often heard\nof it in the Brazil and upon the African Gaboon. It appears to me\nthat there may be a basis of fact to tints fancy, the abnormal\neffect of precious stones upon mesmeric \"sensitives.\"\n\n[FN#283] The chimney and chimney-piece of Galland are not\nEastern: the H. V. uses \"Bukh\u00e1r\u00ed\" = a place for steaming.\n\n[FN#284] i.e. \"Rachel.\"\n\n[FN#285] In the text \"lakh,\" the Anglicised \"lac\" = 100,000.\n\n[FN#286] This use of camphor is noted by Gibbon (D. and F. iii.\n195).\n\n[FN#287] \" b o haw\u00e1\" = climate: see vol. ii. 4.\n\n[FN#288] Galland makes this article a linen cloth wrapped about\nthe skull-cap or core of the turban.\n\n[FN#289] Mr. Coote ( loc. cit. p. 185) is unable to produce a\npuramythe containing all of \"Ali B\u00e1ba;\" but, for the two leading\nincidents he quotes from Prof. Sakellarios two tales collected in\nCyprus One is Morgiana marking the village doors (p. 187), which\nhas occurred doubtless a hundred times. The other, in the \"Story\nof Drakos,\" is an ogre, hight \"Three Eyes,\" who attempts the\nrescue of his wife with a party of blackamoors packed in bales\nand these are all discovered and slain.\n\n[FN#290] Dans la for\u00eat, says Galland.\n\n[FN#291] Or \"Samsam,\" The grain = Sesamum Orientale: hence the\nFrench, Sesame, ouvre-toi! The term is cabalistical, like S\u00falem,\nS\u00falam or Sh\u00falam in the Directorium Vit  Human  of Johannes di\nCapu\u00e2: Inquit vir: Ibam in nocte plenilunii et ascendebam super\ndomum ubi furari intendebam, et accedens ad fenestram ubi radii\nlune ingrediebantur, et dicebam hanc coniurationem, scilicet\nsulem sulem, septies, deinde amplectebar lumen lune et sine\nlesione descendebam ad domum, etc. (pp. 24-25) par Joseph\nDerenbourg, Membre de l'Institut 1re Fascicule, Paris, F. Vieweg,\n67, Rue de Richelieu, 1887.\n\n[FN#292] In the text \"Jath\u00e1ni\" = the wife of an elder brother.\nHindostani, like other Eastern languages, is rich in terms for\nkinship whereof English is so exceptionally poor. Mr. Francis\nGaltson, in his well-known work, \"Hereditary Genius,\" a misnomer\nby the by for \"HeredTalent,\" felt this want severely and was at\npains to supply it.\n\n[FN#293]In the text \"Thag,\" our English \"Thug,\" often pronounced\nmoreover by the Briton with the sibilant \"th.\" It means simply a\ncheat: you say to your servant \"T\u00fa bar\u00e1 Thag hai\" = thou art a\nprecious rascal; but it has also the secondary meaning of robber,\nassassin, and the tertiary of Bhaw\u00e1ni-worshippers who offer\nindiscriminate human sacrifices to the De\u0178ss of Destruction. The\nword and the thing have been made popular in England through the\n\"Confessions of a Thug\" by my late friend Meadows Taylor; and I\nmay record my conviction that were the English driven out of\nIndia, \"Thuggee,\" like piracy in Cutch and in the Persian Gulf,\nwould revive at the shortest possible time.\n\n[FN#294] i.e. the Civil Governor, who would want nothing better.\n\n[FN#295]This is in Galland and it is followed by the H. V.; but\nit would be more natural to suppose that of the quarters two were\nhung up outside the door and the others within. VOL. XIII\n\n[FN#296] I am unwilling to alter the time honoured corruption:\nproperly it is written Marj\u00e1nah = the \"Coralline,\" from Marj\u00e1n =\nred coral, for which see vols. ii. 100; vii. 373.\n\n[FN#297] i.e. the \" 'Iddah.\" during which she could not marry.\nSee vol. iii. 292.\n\n[FN#298] In Galland he is a savetier * * * naturellement gai, et\nqui avait toujours le mot pour rire: the H. V. naturally changed\nhim to a tailor as the Ch\u00e1m\u00e1r or leather-worker would be\ninadmissible to polite conversation.\n\n[FN#299] i.e. a leader of prayer; the Pers. \"P\u00edsh-nam\u00e1z\" =\nfore-prayer, see vols. ii. 203; iv. 111 and 227. Galland has\n\"\u00edm\u00e1n,\" which can mean only faith, belief, and in this blunder he\nis conscientiously followed by his translators--servum pecus\n\n[FN#300] Galland nails down the corpse in the bier--a Christian\npractice--and he certainly knew better. Moreover, prayers for the\ndead are mostly recited over the bier when placed upon the brink\nof the grave; nor is it usual for a woman to play so prominent a\npart in the ceremony.\n\n[FN#301] See vols. v. 111; ix. 163 and x. 47.\n\n[FN#302] Galland is less merciful, \"Aussit\u2202t le conducteur fut\nd\u2044clar\u2044 digne de mort tout d'une voix, et il s'y condamna\nlui-m\u00eame,\" etc. The criminal, indeed, condemns himself and firmly\noffers his neck to be stricken.\n\n[FN#303] In the text \"Lauh,\" for which see vol. v. 73.\n\n[FN#304] In Arab. \"Kama\" = he rose, which, in vulgar speech\nespecially in Egypt, = he began. So in Spitta-Bey's \"Contes\nArabes Modernes\" (p. 124) \"K\u00e1mat al-Sibhah dh\u00e1kat fi yad akh\u00ed-h\"\n= the chaplet began (lit. arose) to wax tight in his brother's\nhand. This sense is shadowed forth in classical Arabic.\n\n[FN#305] So in old Arabian history \"Kas\u00edr\" (the Little One), the\nArab Zopyrus, stows away in huge camel-bags the 2,000 warriors\nintended to surprise masterful Queen Zebba. Chronique de Tabar\u00ed,\nvol. ii., 26. Also the armed men in boxes by which Shamar, King\nof Al-Yaman, took Shamar-kand = Shamar's-town, now Samarkand.\n(Ibid. ii. 158.)\n\n[FN#306] i.e. for a walk, a \"constitutional\": the phrase is very\ncommon in Egypt, and has occurred before.\n\n[FN#307] These visions are frequent in Al-Islam; see Pilgrimage\niii. 254-55.  Of course Christians are not subject to them, as\nMoslems also are never favoured with glimpses of the Blessed\nVirgin and the Saints; the best proof of their \"Subjectivity.\"\n\n[FN#308] For this word see De Sacy, Chrest. ii. 421.  It has\nalready occurred in The Nights, vol. iii. 295.\n\n[FN#309] Not a few pilgrims settle for a time or for life in the\ntwo Holy Places, which are thus kept supplied with fresh blood.\nSee Pilgrimage ii. 260.\n\n[FN#310] i.e. Bayt al-Mukaddas, for which see vol. ii. 132.\n\n[FN#311] An affidavit amongst Moslems is \"litis decisio,\" as in\nthe jurisprudence of medi val Europe.\n\n[FN#312] In Arab folk-lore there are many instances of such\nprecocious boys--enfants terribles they must be in real life.  In\nIbn Khall.  (iii. 104) we find notices of a book \"Kit\u00e1b Nujab\u00e1\nal-Abn\u00e1\" = Treatise on Distinguished Children, by Ibn Zakar al-\nSakalli (the Sicilian), ob. A. D. 1169-70.  And the boy-Kazi is a\nfavourite role in the plays of peasant-lads who enjoy the\nirreverent \"chaff\" almost as much as when \"making a Pasha.\"  This\nreminds us of the boys electing Cyrus as their King in sport\n(Herodotus, i. 114).  For the cycle of \"Precocious Children\" and\ntheir adventures, see Mr. Clouston (Popular Tales, etc., ii. 1-\n14), who enters into the pedigree and affiliation.  I must,\nhowever, differ with that able writer when he remarks at the end,\n\"And now we may regard the story of Valerius Maximus with\nsuspicion, and that of Lloyd as absolutely untrue, so far as\nWilliam Noy's alleged share in the 'case.' \"  The jest or the\nevent happening again and again is no valid proof of its untruth;\nand it is often harder to believe in derivation than in\nspontaneous growth.\n\n[FN#313] In Galland Ali Cogia, Marchand de Bagdad, is directly\nfollowed by the Histoire du Cheval Enchant\u2044.  For this \"Ebony\nHorse,\" as I have called it, see vol. v. p. 32.\n\n[FN#314] \"B\u00e1n\u00fa\" = a lady, a dame of high degree generally, e.g.\nthe (Shah's) Banu-i-Harem in James Morier (\"The Mirza,\" iii. 50),\nwho rightly renders Pari Banu = Pari of the first quality. \"Peri\"\n(Par\u00ed) in its modern form has a superficial resemblance to\n\"Fairy;\" but this disappears in the \"Pairika\" of the Avesta and\nthe \"Pairik\" of the modern Parsee. In one language only, the\nMult\u00e1n\u00ed, there is a masculine form for the word \"Par\u00e1\" = a\nhe-fairy (Scinde, ii. 203). In Al-Islam these Peris are beautiful\nfeminine spirits who, created after the \"D\u00edvs\" (Tabari, i. 7),\nmostly believe in Allah and the Koran and desire the good of\nmankind: they are often attacked by the said D\u00edvs, giants or\ndemons, who imprison them in cages hung to the highest trees, and\nhere the captives are visited by their friends who feed them with\nthe sweetest of scents. I have already contrasted them with the\ngreen-coated pygmies to which the grotesque fancy of Northern\nEurope has reduced them. B\u00e1n\u00fa in Pers. = a princess, a lady, and\nis still much used, e.g. B\u00e1n\u00fa-\u00ed-Harim, the Dame of the Serraglio,\nwhom foreigners call \"Queen of Persia,\" and  r\u00e1m-Banu=\"the calm\nPrincess,\" a nickname. A Greek story equivalent of Prince Ahmad\nis told by Pio in Contes Populaires Grecs (No. ii. p. 98) and\ncalled {Greek}, the Golden box. Three youths ({Greek}) love the\nsame girl and agree that whoever shall learn the best craft\n({Greek}) shall marry her; one becomes an astrologer, the second\ncan raise the dead, and the third can run faster than air. They\nfind her at death's door, and her soul, which was at her teeth\nready to start, goes down ({Greek}).\n\n[FN#315] Light of the Day.\n\n[FN#316] Galland has \"Bisnagar,\" which the H. V. corrupts to\nBishan-Garh = Vishnu's Fort, an utter misnomer. Bisnagar, like\nBijnagar, Beejanuggur, Vizianuggur, etc., is a Prakrit corruption\nof the Sanskrit Vij\u00e1yanagara = City of Victory, the far-famed\nHindu city and capital of the Narasingha or Lord of Southern\nIndia, mentioned in The Nights, vols. vi. 18; ix. 84. Nicolo de'\nConti in the xvth century found it a magnificent seat of Empire\nsome fifteen marches south of the pestilential mountains which\ncontained the diamond mines. Accounts of its renown and condition\nin the last generation have been given by James Grant (\"Remarks\non the Dekkan\") and by Captain Moore (\"Operations of Little's\nDetachment against Tippoo Sultan\"). The latest description of it\nis in \"The Indian Empire,\" by Sir William W. Hunter. Vij\u00e1yanagar,\nvillage in Bellary district, Madras, lat. 15 degrees 18' N.,\nlong. 76 degrees 30' E., pop. (1871), 437, inhabiting 172 houses.\nThe proper name of this village is Hampi, but Vij\u00e1yanagar was the\nname of the dynasty (?) and of the kingdom which had its capital\nhere and was the last great Hindu power of the South. Founded by\ntwo adventurers in the middle of the xivth century, it lasted for\ntwo centuries till its star went down at T\u00e1likot in A. D. 1565.\nFor a description of the ruins of the old city of Vij\u00e1yanagar,\nwhich covers a total area of nine square miles, see \"Murray's\nHandbook for Madras,\" by E. B. Eastwick (1879), vol. ix. p. 235.\nAuthentic history in Southern India begins with the Hindu kingdom\nof Vij\u00e1yanagar, or Narsinha, from A. D. 1118 to 1565. The capital\ncan still be traced within the Madras district of Bellary, on the\nright bank of the Tungabhadra river--vast ruins of temples,\nfortifications, tanks and bridges, haunted by hy nas and snakes.\nFor at least three centuries Vij\u00e1yanagar ruled over the southern\npart of the Indian triangle. Its Rajas waged war and made peace\non equal terms with the Mohamadan sultans of the Deccan. See vol.\niv. p. 335, Sir W. W. Hunter's \"Imperial Gazetteer of India,\"\nEdit. 1881.\n\n[FN#317] The writer means the great Bazar, the Indian \"Chauk,\"\nwhich = our English Carfax or Carfex (Carrefour) and forms the\ncore of ancient cities in the East. It is in some places, as\nDamascus, large as one of the quarters, and the narrow streets or\nlanes, vaulted over or thatched, are all closed at night by heavy\ndoors well guarded by men and dogs. Trades are still localised,\neach owning its own street, after the fashion of older England,\nwhere we read of Drapers' Lane and Butchers' Row; Lombard Street,\nCheapside and Old Jewry.\n\n[FN#318] The local name of the Patna ganzes. The term was\noriginally applied to the produce of the Coan looms, which,\nhowever, was anticipated in ancient Egypt. See p. 287 of\n\"L'Arch\u2044ologie  gyptienne\" (Paris, A. Quantin) of the learned\nProfessor G. Maspero, a most able popular work by a savant who\nhas left many regrets on the banks of Nilus.\n\n[FN#319] The great prototype of the Flying Carpet is that of\nSulayman bin D\u00e1\u00fad, a fable which the Koran (chap. xxi. 81)\nborrowed from the Talmud, not from \"Indian fictions.\" It was of\ngreen sendal embroidered with gold and silver and studded with\nprecious stones, and its length and breadth were such that all\nthe Wise King's host could stand upon it, the men to the left and\nthe Jinns to the right of the throne; and when all were ordered,\nthe Wind, at royal command, raised it and wafted it whither the\nProphet would, while an army of birds flying overhead canopied\nthe host from the sun. In the Middle Ages the legend assumed\nanother form. \"Duke Richard, surnamed 'Richard sans peur,'\nwalking with his courtiers one evening in the forest of\nMoulineaux, near one of his castles on the banks of the Seine,\nhearing a prodigious noise coming towards him, sent one of his\nesquires to know what was the matter, who brought him word that\nit was a company of people under a leader or King. Richard, with\nfive hundred of his bravest Normans, went out to see a sight\nwhich the peasants were so accustomed to that they viewed it two\nor three times a week without fear. The sight of the troop,\npreceded by two men, who spread a cloth on the ground, made all\nthe Normans run away, and leave the Duke alone. He saw the\nstrangers form themselves into a circle on the cloth, and on\nasking who they were, was told that they were the spirits of\nCharles V., King of France, and his servants, condemned to\nexpiate their sins by fighting all night against the wicked and\nthe damned. Richard desired to be of their party, and receiving a\nstrict charge not to quit the cloth, was conveyed with them to\nMount Sinai, where, leaving them without quitting the cloth, he\nsaid his prayers in the Church of St. Catherine's Abbey there,\nwhile they were fighting, and returned with them. In proof of the\ntruth of this story, he brought back half the wedding-ring of a\nknight in that convent, whose wife, after six years, concluded\nhim dead, and was going to take a second husband.\" (Note in the\nLucknow Edition of The Nights.)\n\n[FN#320] Amongst Eastern peoples, and especially adepts, the will\nof man is not a mere term for a mental or cerebral operation, it\ntakes the rank of a substance; it becomes a mighty motive power,\nlike table-turning and other such phenomena which, now looked\nupon as child's play, will perform a prime part in the Kinetics\nof the century to come. If a few pair of hands imposed upon a\nheavy dinner-table can raise it in the air, as I have often seen,\nwhat must we expect to result when the new motive force shall\nfind its Franklin and be shown to the world as real \"Vril\"? The\nexperiment of silently willing a subject to act in a manner not\nsuggested by speech or sign has been repeatedly tried and\nsucceeded in London drawing-rooms; and it has lately been\nsuggested that atrocious crimes have resulted from overpowering\nvolition. In cases of paralysis the Faculty is agreed upon the\nfact that local symptoms disappear when the will-power returns to\nthe brain. And here I will boldly and baldly state my theory\nthat, in sundry cases, spectral appearances (ghosts) and abnormal\nsmells and sounds are simply the effect of a Will which has, so\nto speak, created them.\n\n[FN#321] The text has \"But-Khanah\" = idol-house (or room) syn.\nwith \"But-Kadah\" = image-cuddy, which has been proposed as the\nderivation of the disputed \"Pagoda.\" The word \"Kh\u00e1nah\" also\nappears in our balcony, origin. \"balcony,\" through the\nSouth-European tongues, the Persian being \"B\u00e1l\u00e1-kh\u00e1nah\" = high\nroom. From \"Kadah\" also we derive \"cuddy,\" now confined to\nnautical language.\n\n[FN#322] Europe contains sundry pictures which have, or are\nsupposed to have, this property; witness the famous Sundarium\nbearing the head of Jesus. The trick, for it is not Art, is\nhighly admired by the credulous.\n\n[FN#323] i.e. the Hindu Scripture or Holy Writ, e.g.\n\"K\u00e1ma-Shastra\" = the Cupid-gospel.\n\n[FN#324] This shifting theatre is evidently borrowed by Galland\nfrom Pliny (N. H. xxxvi., 24) who tells that in B. C. 50, C.\nCurio built two large wooden theatres which could be wheeled\nround and formed into an amphitheatre. The simple device seems to\nstir the bile of the unmechanical old Roman, so unlike the Greek\nin powers of invention.\n\n[FN#325] This trick is now common in the circuses and hippodromes\nof Europe, horses and bulls being easily taught to perform it:\nbut India has as yet not produced anything equal to the \"Cyclist\nelephant\" of Paris.\n\n[FN#326] This Arab.-Pers. compound, which we have corrupted to\n\"Bezestein\" or \"Bezettein\" and \"Bezesten,\" properly means a\nmarket-place for Baz or Bazz = cloth, fine linen; but is used by\nmany writers as = Bazar, see \"Kaysariah,\" vol. i. 266.\n\n[FN#327] The origin of the lens and its applied use to the\ntelescope and the microscope are \"lost\" (as the Castle-guides of\nEdinburgh say) \"in the glooms of antiquity.\" Well ground glasses\nhave been discovered amongst the finds of Egypt and Assyria:\nindeed much of the finer work of the primeval artists could not\nhave been done without such aid. In Europe the \"spy-glass\"\nappears first in the Opus Majus of the learned Roger Bacon (circa\nA. D. 1270); and his \"optic tube\" (whence his saying \"all things\nare known by perspective\"), chiefly contributed to make his\nwide-spread fame as a wizard. The telescope was popularised by\nGalileo who (as mostly happens) carried off and still keeps,\namongst the vulgar, all the honours of invention. Some\n\"Illustrators\" of The Nights confound this \"Nazz\u00e1rah,\" the Pers.\n\"D\u00far-b\u00edn,\" or far-seer, with the \"Magic Mirror,\" a speculum which\naccording to Gower was set up in Rome by Virgilius the Magician\nhence the Mirror of Glass in the Squire's tale; Merlin's glassie\nMirror of Spenser (F. Q. ii. 24); the mirror in the head of the\nmonstrous fowl which forecast the Spanish invasion to the\nMexicans; the glass which in the hands of Cornelius Agrippa (A.\nD. 1520) showed to the Earl of Surrey fair Geraldine \"sick in her\nbed;\" to the globe of glass in The Lusiads; Dr. Dee's show-stone,\na bit of cannel-coal; and lastly the zinc and copper disk of the\nabsurdly called \"electro-biologist.\" I have noticed this matter\nat some length in various places.\n\n[FN#328] D'Herbelot renders Soghd Samarkand = plain of Samarkand.\nHence the old \"Sogdiana,\" the famed and classical capital of\nM\u00e1war\u00e1nnahr, our modern Transoxiana, now known as Samarkand. The\nHindi translator has turned \"Soghd\" into \"Sad\u00e1\" and gravely notes\nthat \"the village appertained to Arabia.\" He possibly had a dim\nremembrance of the popular legend which derives \"Samarkand\" from\nShamir or Samar bin Afrik\u00fas, the Tobba King of Al-Yaman, who lay\nwaste Soghd-city (\"Shamir kand\" = Shamir destroyed); and when\nrebuilt the place was called by the Arab. corruption Samarkand.\nSee Ibn Khallikan ii. 480. Ibn Haukal (Kit\u00e1b al Mam\u00e1lik wa\nal-Mas\u00e1lik = Book of Realms and Routes), whose Oriental Geography\n(xth century) was translated by Sir W. Ouseley (London, Oriental\nPress, 1800), followed by Ab\u00fa 'l-Fid\u00e1, mentions the Himyaritic\ninscription upon an iron plate over the Kash portal of Samarkand\n(Appendix No. iii.).\n\n[FN#329] The wish might have been highly indiscreet and have\nexposed the wisher to the resentment of the two other brothers.\nIn parts of Europe it is still the belief of the vulgar that men\nwho use telescopes can see even with the naked eye objects which\nare better kept hidden; and I have heard of troubles in the South\nof France because the villagers would not suffer the secret\ncharms of their women to become as it were the public property of\nthe lighthouse employ\u2044s.\n\n[FN#330] \"J\u00e1m-i-Jamsh\u00edd\" is a well worn commonplace in Moslem\nfolk-lore; but commentators cannnot agree whether \"J\u00e1m\" be = a\nmirror or a cup. In the latter sense it would represent the\nCyathomantic cup of the Patriarch Joseph and the symbolic bowl of\nNestor. Jamsh\u00edd may be translated either Jam the Bright or the\nCup of the Sun: this ancient King is Solomon of the grand old\nGuebres.\n\n[FN#331] This passage may have suggested to Walter Scott one of\nhis descriptions in \"The Monastery.\"\n\n[FN#332] In the text \"L\u00e1jaward\u00ed,\" for which see vols. iii. 33,\nand ix. 190.\n\n[FN#333] In Galland and the H. V. \"Prince Husayn's.\"\n\n[FN#334] This is the \"Gandharba-lagana\" (fairy wedding) of the\nHindus; a marriage which lacked only the normal ceremonies. For\nthe Gandharbas = heavenly choristers see Moor's \"Hind\u00fa Pantheon,\"\np. 237, etc.\n\n[FN#335] \"Perfumed with amber\" (-gris?) says Galland.\n\n[FN#336] The Hind term for the royal lev\u00e9e, as \"Sel\u00e1m\" is the\nPersian.\n\n[FN#337] Arab. \"'Ilm al-Ghayb\" = the Science of Hidden Things\nwhich, says the Hadis, belongeth only to the Lord. Yet amongst\nMoslems, as with other faiths, the instinctive longing to pry\ninto the Future has produced a host of pseudo-sciences, Geomancy,\nAstrology, Prophecy and others which serve only to prove that\nsuch knowledge, in the present condition of human nature, is\nabsolutely unattainable.\n\n[FN#338] In folk-lore and fairy tales the youngest son of mostly\nthree brothers is generally Fortune's favourite: at times also he\nis the fool or the unlucky one of the family, Cinderella being\nhis counterpart (Mr. Clouston, i. 321).\n\n[FN#339] The parasang (Gr. {Greek}), which Ibn Khall. (iii. 315)\nreduces to three miles, has been derived wildly enough from Fars\nor Pars (Persia proper) sang = (mile) stone. Chardin supports the\netymology, \"because leagues are marked out with great tall stones\nin the East as well as the West, e.g., ad primam (vel secundam)\nlapidem.\"\n\n[FN#340] A huge marquee or pavilion-tent in India.\n\n[FN#341] The Jinn feminine; see vol. i. 10. The word hardly\ncorresponds with the Pers. \"Peri\" and Engl. \"Fairy,\" a creation,\nlike the \"D\u00edv,\" of the so-called \"Aryan,\" not \"Semitic,\" race.\n\n[FN#342] Galland makes the Fairy most unjustifiably fear that her\nhusband is meditating the murder of his father; and the Hind\u00ed in\nthis point has much the advantage of the Frenchman.\n\n[FN#343] Pers. = \"Light of the World\"; familiar to Europe as the\nname of the Grand Moghul Jeh\u00e1ng\u00edr's principal wife.\n\n[FN#344] The Arab stirrup, like that of the Argentine Gaucho, was\noriginally made of wood, liable to break, and forming a frail\nsupport for lancer and sworder. A famous chief and warrior, Ab\u00fa\nSa'\u00edd al-Muhallab (ob. A. H. 83 = 702) first gave orders to forge\nfoot-rests of iron.\n\n[FN#345] For this Egyptian and Syrian weapon see vol. i. 234.\n\n[FN#346] See vol. vii. 93, where an error of punctuation\nconfounds it with Kerbela,--a desert with a place of pilgrimage.\n\"Sam\u00e1wah\" in Ibn Khall. (vol. i. 108) is also the name of a town\non the Euphrates.\n\n[FN#347] Nazar\u00e1nah prop. = the gift (or gifts) offered at visits\nby a Moslem noble or feoffee in India to his feudal superior; and\nthe Kalichah of Hind\u00fa, Malabar, Goa and the Blue Mountains (p.\n197). Hence the periodical tributes and especially the presents\nwhich represent our \"legacy-duty\" and the \"succession-duty\" for\nRajahs and Nabobs, the latter so highly lauded by \"The Times,\" as\nthe logical converse of the Corn-laws which ruined our corn. The\nNazar\u00e1nah can always be made a permanent and a considerable\nsource of revenue, far more important than such unpopular and\nun-Oriental device as an income-tax. But our financiers have yet\nto learn the A. B. C. of political economy in matters of\nassessment, which is to work upon familiar lines; and they\nespecially who, like Mr. Wilson \"mad as a hatter,\" hold and hold\nforth that \"what is good for England is good for the world.\"\nThese myopics decide on theoretical and sentimental grounds that\na poll-tax is bad in principle, which it may be, still public\nopinion sanctions it and it can be increased without exciting\ndiscontent. The same with the \"Nazar\u00e1nah;\" it has been the custom\nof ages immemorial, and a little more or a little less does not\naffect its popularity.\n\n[FN#348] Pers. = City-queen.\n\n[FN#349] Compare with this tale its modern and popular version\nHistoire du Rossignol Chanteur (Spitta-Bey, No. x, p. 123): it\ncontains the rosary (and the ring) that shrinks, the ball that\nrolls and the water that heals; etc. etc. Mr. Clouston somewhere\nasserts that the History of the Envious Sisters, like that of\nPrince Ahmad and the Per\u00ed-Banu, are taken from a MS. still\npreserved in the \"King's Library,\" Paris; but he cannot quote his\nauthority, De Sacy or Langl\u00e8s. Mr. H. C. Coote (loc. Cit. P. 189)\ndeclares it to be, and to have been, \"an enormous favourite in\nItaly and Sicily: no folk-tale exists in those countries at all\ncomparable to it in the number of its versions and in the extent\nof its distribution.\" He begins two centuries before Galland,\nsith Straparola (Notti Piacevoli), proceeds to Imbriani\n(Novajella Fiorentina), Nerucci (Novelle Montalesi), Comparetti\n(Nivelline Italiane) and Pitre (Fiabe Novelle e Racconti popolari\nItaliani, vol. I.); and informs us that \"the adventures of the\nyoung girl, independently of the joint history of herself and her\nbrother, are also told in a separate \"Fiaba\" in Italy. A tale\ncalled La Favenilla Coraggiosa is given by Visentini in his Fiabe\nMantovane and it is as far as it is a counterpart of the second\nportion of Galland's tale.\" Mr. Coote also finds this story in\nHahn's \"Griechische M\u00e4rchen\" entitled \"Sun, Moon and Morning\nStar\"--the names of the royal children. The King overhears the\ntalk of three girls and marries the youngest despite his\nstepmother, who substitutes for her issue a puppy, a kitten and a\nmouse. The castaways are adopted by a herdsman whilst the mother\nis confined in a henhouse; and the King sees his offspring and\nexclaims, \"These children are like those my wife promised me.\"\nHis stepmother, hearing this, threatens the nurse, who goes next\nmorning disguised as a beggar-woman to the girl and induces her\nto long for the Bough that makes music, the Magic Mirror, and the\nbird Dickierette. The brothers set out to fetch them leaving\ntheir shirts which become black when the mishap befalls them. The\nsister, directed by a monk, catches the bird and revives the\nstones by the River of Life and the denouement is brought about\nby a sausage stuffed with diamonds. In Miss Stokes' Collection of\nHindu Stories (No. xx.) \"The Boy who had a moon on his brow and a\nstar on his chin\" also suggests the \"Envious Sisters.\"\n\n[FN#350] Pop. \"Ghaut\" = The steps (or path) which lead down to a\nwatering-place. Hence the Hind\u00ed saying concerning the \"rolling\nstone\"--Dhobi-ka kutt\u00e1; na Ghark\u00e1 na Gh\u00e1t-k\u00e1, = a washerwoman's\ntyke, nor of the house nor of the Gh\u00e1t-dyke.\n\n[FN#351] Text \"Khat\u00edbah\" more usually \"Khutbah\" = the Friday\nsermon preached by the Khat\u00edb: in this the reigning sovereign is\nprayed for by name and his mention together with the change of\ncoinage is the proof of his lawful rule. See Lane, M. F., chap.\niii.\n\n[FN#352] This form of eaves-dropping, in which also the listener\nrarely hears any good of himself is, I need hardly now say, a\nfavourite incident of Eastern Storiology and even of history,\ne.g. Three men met together; one of them expressed the wish to\nobtain a thousand pieces of gold, so that he might trade with\nthem; the other wished for an appointment under the Emir of the\nMoslems; the third wished to possess Yusuf's wife, who was the\nhandsomest of women and had reat political influence. Yusuf,\nbeing informed of what they said, sent for the men, bestowed one\nthousand dinars on him who wished for that sum, gave an\nappointment to the other and said to him who wished to possess\nthe lady: \"Foolish man! What induced you to wish for that which\nyou can never obtain?\" He then sent him to her and she placed him\nin a tent where he remained three days, receiving, each day, one\nand the same kind of food. She had him brought to her and said,\n\"What did you eat these days past?\" He replied: \"Always the same\nthing!\"--\"Well,\" said she, \"all women are the same thing.\" She\nthen ordered some money and a dress to be given him, after which,\nshe dismissed him. (Ibn Khallikan iii. 463-64.)\n\n[FN#353] This ruthless attempt at infanticide was in accordance\nwith the manners of the age nor has it yet disappeared from\nRajput-land, China and sundry over-populous countries. Indeed it\nis a question if civilisation may not be compelled to revive the\nlaw of Lycurgus which forbade a child, male or female, to be\nbrought up without the approbation of public officers appointed\nad hoc. One of the curses of the XIXth century is the increased\nskill of the midwife and physician, who are now able to preserve\nworthless lives and to bring up semi-abortions whose only effect\nupon the breed is increased degeneracy. Amongst the Greeks and\nancient Arabs the Malthusian practice was carried to excess.\nPoseidippus declares that in his day--\n\n          A man, although poor, will not expose his son;\n          But however rich, will not preserve his daughter.\n\nSee the commentators' descriptions of the Wa'd al-Ban\u00e1t or burial\nof Mau\u00fad\u00e1t (living daughters), the barbarous custom of the pagan\nArabs (Koran, chaps. Xvi. And lxxxi.) one of the many\nabominations, like the murderous vow of Jephtha, to which Al-\nIslam put a summary stop. (Ibn Khallikan, iii. 609-606) For such\noutcast children reported to be monsters, see pp. 402-412 of Mr.\nClouston's \"Asiatic and European versions of four of Chaucer's\nCanterbury Tales,\" printed by the Chaucer Society.\n\n[FN#354] Hind. Chhuchhundar (Sorex c\u00a3rulescens) which occurs\nrepeatedly in verse; e.g., when speaking of low men advanced to\nhigh degree, the people say:--\n\n          Chhuchh\u00fandar-ke sir-par Chambel\u00ed-ka tel.\n          The Jasmine-oil on the musk-rat's head.\n\nIn Galland the Sult\u00e1nah is brought to bed of  un morceau de bois;\nand his Indian translator is more consequent, Hahn, as has been\nseen, also has the mouse but Hahn could hardly have reached\nHindostan.\n\n[FN#355] This title of Sh\u00e1hinshah was first assumed by Ardash\u00edr,\nthe great Persian conqueror, after slaying the King of Ispah\u00e1n,\nArdaw\u00e1n. (Tabari ii. 73.)\n\n[FN#356] This imprisonment of the good Queen reminds home readers\nof the \"Cage of Clapham\" wherein a woman with child was\nimprisoned in A.D. 1700, and which was noted by Sir George Grove\nas still in existence about 1830.\n\n[FN#357] Arab. Ayy\u00e1m al-Nif\u00e1s = the period of forty days after\nlabour during which, according to Moslem law, a woman may not\ncohabit with her husband.\n\n[FN#358] A clarum et venerabile nomen in Persia; meaning one of\nthe Spirits that preside over beasts of burden; also a king in\ngeneral, the P.N. of an ancient sovereign, etc.\n\n[FN#359] This is the older pronunciation of the mod. (Khusrau)\n\"Parv\u00edz\"; and I owe an apology to Mr. C.J. Lyall (Ancient Arabian\nPoetry) for terming his \"Khusrau Parv\u00eaz\" an \"ugly Indianism\" (The\nAcademy, No. 100). As he says (Ibid. vol. x. 85), \"the Indians\ndid not invent for Persian words the sounds \u00ea and \u2202, called\nmajh\u00fal (i.e. 'not known in Arabic') by the Arabs, but received\nthem at a time when these wounds were universally used in Persia.\nThe substitution by Persians of \u00ee and \u03c0 for \u00ea and \u2202 is quite\nmodern.\"\n\n[FN#360] i.e. Fairy-born, the {Greek} (Parysatis) of the Greeks\nwhich some miswrite {Greek}.\n\n[FN#361] In Arab. Usually shortened to \"Haz\u00e1r\" (bird of a\nthousand tales = the Thousand), generally called \"'Andal\u00edb:\"\nGalland has Bulbulhezer and some of his translators debase it to\nBulbulkezer. See vol. v. 148, and the Haz\u00e1r-dast\u00e1n of Kazw\u00edn\u00ed (De\nSacy, Chrest. iii. 413). These rarities represent the Rukh's egg\nin \"Alaeddin.\"\n\n[FN#362] These disembodied \"voices\" speaking either naturally or\nthrough instruments are a recognized phenomenon of the so-called\n\"Spiritualism,\" See p. 115 of \"Supra-mundane Facts,\" &c., edited\nby T.J. Nichols, M.D., &c., London, Pitman, 1865. I venture to\nremark that the medical treatment by Mesmerism, Braidism and\nhypnotics, which was violently denounced and derided in 1850, is\nin 1887 becoming a part of the regular professional practice and\nforms another item in the long list of the Fallacies of the\nFaculty and the Myopism of the \"Scientist.\"\n\n[FN#363] I may also note that the \"H\u00e1tif,\" or invisible Speaker,\nwhich must be subjective more often than objective, is a common-\nplace of Moslem thaumaturgy.\n\n[FN#364] It may have been borrowed from Ulysses and the Sirens.\n\n[FN#365] Two heroes of the Shahn\u00e1meh and both the types of\nreckless daring. The monomachy or duel between these braves\nlasted through two days.\n\n[FN#366] The \"B\u00e1gh\" or royal tiger, is still found in the jungles\nof M\u00e1zender\u00e1n and other regions of Northern Persia.\n\n[FN#367] In addressing the Shah every Persian begins with the\nformula \"Kurb\u00e1n-at b\u00e1sham\" = may I become thy Corban or\nsacrifice. For this word (Kurb\u00e1n) see vol. viii. 16.\n\n[FN#368] The King in Persia always speaks of himself in the third\nperson and swears by his own blood and head, soul, life and\ndeath. The form of oath is ancient: Joseph, the first (but not\nthe last) Jew-financier of Egypt, emphasises his speech \"by the\nlife of Pharaoh.\" (Gen. xiii. 15, 16.)\n\n[FN#369] Another title of the Shah, making him quasi-divine, at\nany rate the nearest to the Almighty, like the Czar and the\nEmperor of China. Hence the subjects bow to him with the body at\nright angles as David did to Saul (I Sam. xxiv, 8) or fall upon\nthe face like Joshua (v. 14).\n\n[FN#370] A most improbable and absurd detail: its sole excuse is\nthe popular superstition of \"blood speaking to blood.\" The youths\nbeing of the royal race felt that they could take unwarrantable\nliberties.\n\n[FN#371] This is still a Persian custom because all the subjects,\nwomen as well as men, are virtually the King's slaves.\n\n[FN#372] i.e. King of kings, the {Greek}.\n\n[FN#373] Majlis garm karna, i.e. to give some life to the\ncompany.\n\n[FN#374] In Arabic \"'Ilm al-Muk\u00e1shafah\" = the science by which\nEastern adepts discover man's secret thoughts. Of late years it\nhas appeared in England but with the same quackery and imposture\nwhich have ruined \"Spiritualism\" as the Faith of the Future.\n\n[FN#375] Nor are those which do occur all in the same order: The\nfirst in the Turkish book \"Of 'Eb\u00fa-'l-K\u00e1sim of Basra, of the\n'Em\u00edr of Basra, and of 'Eb\u00fa-'l-Faskh of W\u00e1sit,\" is probably\nsimilar to the first of Petis, \"History of Aboulcasem of Basra.\"\nThe second \"Of Fadzlu- 'llah of Mawsil (Moser), of 'Eb\u00fa-'l-Hasan,\nand of M\u00e1hy\u00e1r of W\u00e1sit,\" is evidently the seventh in Petis,\n\"History of Fadlallah, Son of Bin Ortoc, King of Moussel.\" The\nfourth, \"Of Ridzw\u00e1n-Shah of China and the Shahrist\u00e1ni Lady,\" is\nthe second in Petis, \"History of King Razvanschad and of the\nPrincess Cheheristany.\" The eleventh, \"Of the Sovereign without a\ncare and of the Vaz\u00edr full of care,\" is the eighth in Petis\nHistory of King Bedreddin Lolo and of his Vizier Altalmulc.\" The\nthird, \"Of the Builder of Bemm with the two Vaz\u00edrs of the king of\nKaw\u00e1shar,\" the seventh, \"Of the Rogue Nasr and the son of the\nking of Khur\u00e1s\u00e1n,\" and the tenth, \"The Three Youths, the Old Man,\nand the Daughter of the King,\" I cannot, from these titles,\nrecognise in Petis; while the fifth, \"Farrukh-Sh\u00e1d, Farrukh-R\u00faz,\nand Farrukh-N\u00e1z,\" may be the same as the frame story of the\n\"Haz\u00e1r \u00fa Yek R\u00faz,\" where the king is called Togrul-bey, his son\nFarrukrouz, and his daughter Farruknaz, and if this be the case,\nthe Turkish book must differ considerably from the Persian in its\nplan.--Although \"The Thousand and One Nights\" has not been found\nin Persian, there exists a work in that language of which the\nplan is somewhat similar--but adapted from an Indian source. It\nis thus described by Dr. Rieu, in his Catalogue of Persian MSS.\nin the British Museum, vol. ii. p. 773: Tale of Sh\u00edrz\u00e1d, son of\nGurgahan, emperor of China, and Gulsh\u00e1d, daughter of the vaz\u00edr\nFarrukhz\u00e1d (called the Story of the Nine Belvideres). Nine tales\ntold by Gulshad to Sh\u00edrz\u00e1d, each in one of the nine belvideres of\nthe royal palace, in order to save the forfeited life of her\nfather.\n\n[FN#376] A translation of this version, omitting the moral\nreflections interspersed, is given by Professor E. B. Cowell in\nthe \"Journal of Philology,\" 1876, vol. vi. p. 193. The great\nPersian mystic tells another story of a Dream of Riches, which,\nthough only remotely allied to our tale, is very curious:\n\n               The Fakir and the Hidden Treasure.\n\nNotwithstanding the clear evidence of God's bounty, engendering\nthose spiritual tastes in men, philosophers and learned men, wise\nin their own conceit, obstinately shut their eyes to it, and look\nafar off for what is really close to them, so that they incur the\npenalty of being \"branded on the nostrils\" [Kur\u00e1n, lxviii. 16],\nadjudged against unbelievers. This is illustrated by the story of\nthe poor Fak\u00edr who prayed to God that he might be fed without\nbeing obliged to work for his food. A divine voice came to him in\nhis sleep and directed him to go to the house of a certain scribe\nand take a certain writing he should find there. He did so, and\non reading the writing found that it contained directions for\ndiscovering a hidden treasure. The directions were as follows:\n\"Go outside the city to the dome which covers the tomb of the\nmartyr, turn your back to the tomb and face towards Mecca, place\nan arrow in your bow, and where the arrow falls dig for the\ntreasure.\" But before the Fak\u00edr had time to commence the search\nthe rumour of the writing and its purport had reached the King,\nwho at once sent and took it away from the Fak\u00edr, and began to\nsearch for the treasure on his own account. After shooting many\narrows and digging in all directions the King failed to find the\ntreasure, and got weary of searching, and returned the writing to\nthe Fak\u00edr. Then the Fak\u00edr tried what he could do, but failed to\nhit the spot where the treasure was buried. At last despairing of\nsuccess by his own unaided efforts, he cast his care upon God,\nand implored the divine assistance. Then a voice from heaven came\nto him saying, \"You were directed to fix an arrow in your bow,\nbut not to draw your bow with all your might, as you have been\ndoing. Shoot as gently as possible, that the arrow may fall close\nto you, for hidden treasure is indeed 'nearer to you than your\nneck-vein'\" [Kur\u00e1n, l. 15]. Men overlook the spiritual treasures\nclose to them, and for this reason it is that prophets have no\nhonour in their own countries.--Mr. F: H. Whinfield's Abridgment\nof \"The Masnavi-i Ma'navi.\" (London, 1887.)\n\n[FN#377] See Mr. Gibb's translation (London: Redway), p. 278\n\n[FN#378] \"Rem qu  contigit patrum memori\u00e2 ut veram ita dignam\nrelatu et s penumero mihi assertam ab hominibus fide dignis\napponam.\"\n\n[FN#379] Thorpe says that a nearly similar legend is current at\nTanslet, on the island of Alsen.\n\n[FN#380] The common tradition is, it was in English rhyme, viz.\n\n          \"Where this stood\n          Is another as good;\"\n\nor, as some will have it:\n\n          \"Under me doth lie\n          Another much richer than I.\"\n\n[FN#381] Apropos to dreams, there is a very amusing story,\nentitled \"Which was the Dream ?\" in Mr. F. H. Balfour's \"Leaves\nfrom my Chinese Scrap Book,\" p. 106-7 (London: Tr\u2265bner, 1887).\n\n[FN#382] The story in the Turkish collection, \"Al-Faraj ba'd\nal-Shiddah,\" where it forms the 8th recital, is doubtless\nidentical with our Arabian version, since in both the King of the\nGenie figures, which is not the case in Mr. Gibb's story.\n\n[FN#383] Although this version is not preceded, as in the\nArabian, by the Dream of Riches, yet that incident occurs, I\nunderstand, in separate form in the work of 'Al\u00ed Az\u00edz.\n\n[FN#384] Sir Richard has referred, in note 1, p. 18, to numerous\ndifferent magical tests of chastity, etc., and I may here add one\nmore, to wit, the cup which Oberon, King of the Fairies, gave to\nDuke Huon of Bordeaux (according to the romance which recounts\nthe marvellous adventures of that renowned Knight), which filled\nwith wine in the hand of any man who was out of \"deadly sin\" and\nattempted to drink out of it, but was always empty in the hands\nof a sinful man. Charlemagne was shown to be sinful by this test,\nwhile Duke Huon, his wife, and a companion were proved to be free\nfrom sin.--In my \"Popular Tales and Fictions\" the subject of\ninexhaustible purses etc. is treated pretty fully--they\nfrequently figure in folk-tales, from Iceland to Ceylon, from\nJapan to the Hebrides.\n\n[FN#385]  \"The Athenaeum,\" April 23,1887, p. 542.\n\n[FN#386]  See M. Eugene L\u2044v\u00eaque's \"Les Mythes et les L\u2044gendes de\nl'Inde et la Perse\" (Paris, 1880), p. 543, where the two are\nprinted side by side. This was pointed out more than seventy\nyears ago by Henry Weber in his Introduction to \"Tales of the\nEast,\" edited by him.\n\n[FN#387]  Also in the romance of Duke Huon of Bordeaux and the\nold French romance of the Chevalier Berinus. The myth was widely\nspread in the Middle Ages.\n\n[FN#388]  Cf. the magic horn that Duke Huon of Bordeaux received\nfrom Oberon, King of the Fairies, which caused even the Soudan of\nBabylon to caper about in spite of himself, and similar musical\ninstruments in a hundred different tales, such as the old English\npoem of \"The Friar and the Boy,\" the German tale (in Grimm) of\n\"The Jew among Thorns,\" the \"Pied Piper of Hamelin,\" &c.\n\n[FN#389]  Not distantly related to stories of this class are\nthose in which the hero becomes possessed of some all-bestowing\nobject--a purse, a box, a table-cloth, a sheep, a donkey, etc.--\nwhich being stolen from him he recovers by means of a magic club\nthat on being commended rattles on the pate and ribs of the thief\nand compels him to restore the treasure.\n\n[FN#390]  The Dwarf had told the soldier, on leaving him after\nkilling the old witch, that should his services be at any other\ntime required, he had only to light his pipe at the Blue Light\nand he should instantly appear before him. The tobacco-pipe must\nbe considered as a recent and quite unnecessary addition to the\nlegend: evidently all the power of summoning the Dwarf was in the\nBlue Light, since he tells the soldier when he first appears\nbefore him in the well that he must obey its lord and master.\n\n[FN#391]  Belli signifies famous, or notorious.\n\n[FN#392]  This young lady's notion of the \"function\" of Prayer\nwas, to say the least peculiar, in thus addressing her petition\nto the earth instead of to Heaven.\n\n[FN#393]  The gentle, amiable creature!\n\n[FN#394] Chamley-bill was, says Dr. Chodzko, a fort built by\nKurrogl\u00fa, the ruins of which are still to be seen in the valley\nof Salmas, a district in the province of Aderbaijan.\n\n[FN#395]  i.e. Kuvera, the god of wealth.\n\n[FN#396]  The attendants of Kuvera. a Buddhistic idea.\n\n[FN#397]  That every man has his \"genius\" of good or evil fortune\nis, I think, essentially idea.\n\n[FN#398]  Such being the case, what need was there for the\napparition presenting itself every morning?--but no matter!\n\n[FN#399] Pandit S. M. Nat\u2044sa S\u00e1str\u00ed, in \"Indian Notes and\nQueries,\" for March, 1887, says that women swallow large numbers\nof an insect called pillai-puchchi (son-insect: gryllas) in the\nhope of bearing sons, they will also drink the water squeezed\nfrom the loin-cloth of a sany\u00e1s\u00ed [devotee] after washing it for\nhim!--Another correspondent in the same periodical. Pandit\nPutl\u00edb\u00e1i K. Raghunathj\u2044, writes that Hindu women, for the purpose\nof having children, especially a son, observe the fourth lunar\nday of every dark fortnight as a fast and break their fast only\nafter seeing the moon, generally before 9 or 10 p.m. A dish of\ntwenty-one small, marble-like balls of rice is prepared, in one\nof which is put some salt. The whole dish is then served up to\nthe woman, and while eating it she should first lay her hands on\nthe ball containing salt, as it is believed to be a positive sign\nthat she will be blessed with a son. In that case she should give\nup eating the rest, but otherwise she should go on eating till\nshe lays her hands on the salted ball. The Pandit adds, that the\nobservance of this ball depends on the wish of the woman. She may\nobserve it on only one, five, seven, eleven, or twenty-one lunar\nfourth days, or chaturth\u00ed. Should she altogether fail in picking\nout the salted ball first, she may be sure of remaining barren\nall her life long.\n\n[FN#400] I am glad to see among Messrs. Tr\u2265bner & Co.'s\nannouncements of forthcoming publications Mr. Knowles' collection\nof \"Folk-Tales of Kashm\u00edr\" in popular handy volume form.\n\n[FN#401] A holy man whose austerities have obtained for him\nsupernatural powers.\n\n[FN#402] Also called \"Story of the King and his Four Ministers.\"\nThere is another but wholly different Tamil romance entitled the\n\"Alak\u2044sa Kath\u00e1,\" in which a king's daughter becomes a disembodied\nevil spirit, haunting during the night a particular choultry (or\nserai) for travellers, and if they do not answer aright to her\ncries she strangles them and vampyre-like sucks their blood.\n\n[FN#403] The Pandit informs me that his \"Folk-Lore in Southern\nIndia\" will be completed at press and issued shortly at Bombay.\n(London agents, Messrs. Tr\u2265bner & Co.)\n\n[FN#404] In the \"Kath\u00e1 Sarit S\u00e1gara,\" Book ii., ch. 14, when the\nKing of Vatsa receives the hand of Vasavadatta, \"like a beautiful\nshoot lately budded on the creeper of love,\" she walks round the\nfire, keeping it to the right, on which Prof. Tawney remarks that\n\"the practice of walking round an object of reverence, with the\nright hand towards it, has been exhaustively discussed by Dr.\nSamuel Fergusson in his paper 'On the ceremonial turn called\nDesiul,' published in the Proceedings of the Royal Irish Academy,\nfor March 1877 (vol. i., series ii., No. 12). He shows it to have\nexisted among the ancient Romans as well as the Celts.... Dr.\nFergusson is of opinion that this movement was a symbol of the\ncosmical rotation, an imitation of the apparent course of the sun\nin the heavens.\"\n\n[FN#405] The affection of parents for their children is often a\nblind instinct, and sometimes selfish, though, after all, there\nis doubtless truth in these lines:\n\n          \"A mother's love!\n          If there be one thing pure,\n          Where all beside is sullied,\n          That can endure\n          When all else pass away:\n          If there be aught\n          Surpassing human deed, or word, or thought,\n          It is a mother's love!\"\n\n[FN#406] Surma is a collyrium applied to the edges of the eyelids\nto increase the lustre of the eyes. A Persian poet, addressing\nthe damsel of whom he is enamoured, says, \"For eyes so\nintoxicated with love's nectar what need is there of surma?\"--\nThis part of the story seems to be garbled; in another text of\nthe romance of Hatim Ta'\u00ed it is only after the surma has been\napplied to the covetous man's eyes that he beholds the hidden\ntreasures.\n\n[FN#407] The first part of the story of the Young King of the\nBlack Isles, in The Nights, bears some analogy to this, but there\nthe paramour is only \"half-killed\" and the vindictive queen\ntransforms her husband from the waist downwards into marble.\n\n[FN#408] On the Sources of some of Galland's Tales.  By Henry\nCharles Coote, F.S.A. \"Folklore Record,\" 1881, vol. iii. Part 2,\np. 186.\n\n[FN#409] See Thorpe's \"Yule Tide Stories,\" Bohn's ed., pp. 481-\n486.\u02daThorpe says that \"for many years the Dummburg was the abode\nof robbers, who slew the passing travellers and merchants whom\nthey perceived on the road from Leipsig to Brunswick, and heaped\ntogether the treasures of the plundered churches and the\nsurrounding country, which they concealed in subterranean\ncaverns.\"  The peasantry would therefore regard the spot with\nsuperstitious awe, and once such a tale as that of Ali Baba got\namongst them, the robbers' haunt in their neighbourhood would\nsoon become the scene of the poor woodcutter's adventure.\n\n[FN#410] A Persian poet says:\n\n          \"He who violates the rights of the bread and salt\n          Breaks, for his wretched self, head and neck.\"\n\n[FN#411] Miss Busk reproduces the proper names as they are\ntransliterated in J\u2265lg's German version of those Kalmuk and\nMongolian Tales--from which a considerable portion of her book\nwas rendered--thus: Ardschi Bordschi, Rakschasas, etc., but\ndrollest of all is \"Ramajana\" (Ramayana), which is right in\nGerman but not in English.\n\n[FN#412] The apocryphal gospels and the Christian hagiology are\nlargely indebted to Buddhism, e.g., the Descent into Hell, of\nwhich there is such a graphic account in the Gospel of Nicodemus,\nseems to have been adapted from ancient Buddhist legends, now\nembodied in the opening chapters of a work entitled,\n\"K\u00e1randa-vy\u00faha,\" which contain a description of the Boddhisattva\nAvalokiteswara's descent into the hell Av\u00edchi, to deliver the\nsouls there held captive by Yama, the lord of the lower world.\n(See a paper by Professor E. R. Cowell, LL.D., in the \"Journal of\nPhilology,\" 1876, vol. vi. pp. 222-231.) This legend also exists\nin Telugu, under the title of \"S\u00e1nanda Charitra,\" of which the\noutline is given in Taylor's \"Catalogue Raisonn\u2044 of Oriental MSS.\nin the Government Library, Madras,\" vol. ii. p. 643: S\u00e1nanda, the\nson of Purna Vitta and Bhadra Datta, heard from munis accounts of\nthe pains of the wicked, and wishing to see for himself, went to\nYama-puri. His coming had been announced by N\u00e1rada. Yama showed\nthe stranger the different lots of mankind in a future state, in\ndetails. S\u00e1nanda was touched with compassion for the miseries\nthat he witnessed, and by the use of the five and six lettered\nspells he delivered those imprisoned souls and took them with him\nto Kailasa. Yama went to Siva and complained, but Siva civilly\ndismissed the appeal.--Under the title of \"The Harrowing of\nHell,\" the apocryphal Christian legend was the theme of a Miracle\nPlay in England during the Middle Ages, and indeed it seems to\nhave been, in different forms, a popular favourite throughout\nEurope. Thus in a German tale Strong Hans goes to the Devil in\nhell and wants to serve him, and sees the pains in which souls\nare imprisoned standing beside the fire. Full of pity, he lifts\nup the lids and sets the souls free, on which the Devil at once\ndrives him away. A somewhat similar notion occurs in an Icelandic\ntale of the Sin Sacks, in Powell and Magn\u00fasson's collection\n(second series, p. 48). And in T. Crofton Croker's \"Fairy Legends\nand Traditions of the South of Ireland,\" ed. 1828, Part. ii. p.\n30 ff., we read of Soul Cages at the bottom of the sea,\ncontaining the spirits of drowned sailors, which the bold hero\nJack Docherty set free.\n\n[FN#413] The Rabbins relate that among the Queen of Sheba's tests\nof Solomon's sagacity she brought before him a number of boys and\ngirls apparelled all alike, and desired him to distinguish those\nof one sex from those of the other, as they stood in his\npresence. Solomon caused a large basin of water to be fetched in,\nand ordered them all to wash their hands. By this expedient he\ndiscovered the boys from the girls, since the former washed\nmerely their hands, while the latter washed also their arms.\n\n[FN#414] Dr. W. Grimm, in the notes to his \"Kinder und\nHausm\u00e4rchen,\" referring to the German form of the story (which we\nshall come to by and-by), says, \"The Parrot, which is the fourth\nstory in the Persian Touti Nameh, bears some resemblance to\nthis\"--the Parrot is the reciter of all the stories in the\ncollection, not the title of this particular tale.\n\n[FN#415] To Sir Richard Burton's interesting note on the\nantiquity of the lens and its applied use to the telescope and\nmicroscope may be added a passage or two from Sir William\nDrummond's \"Origines; or, Remarks on the Origin of several\nEmpires, States, and Cities,\" 1825, vol. ii. pp. 246-250. This\nwriter appears to think that telescopes were not unknown to the\nancients and adduces plausible evidence in support of his\nopinion. \"Moschopalus,\" he says, \"an ancient grammarian, mentions\nfour instruments with which the astronomers of antiquity were\naccustomed to observe the stars--the catoptron, the dioptron, the\neisoptron and the enoptron.\" He supposes the catoptron to have\nbeen the same with the astrolabe. \"The dioptron seems to have\nbeen so named from a tube through which the observer looked. Were\nthe other two instruments named from objects being reflected in a\nmirror placed within them? Aristotle says that the Greeks\nemployed mirrors when they surveyed the celestial appearances.\nMay we not conclude from this circumstance that astronomers were\nnot always satisfied with looking through empty tubes?\" He thinks\nthe ancients were acquainted with lenses and has collected\npassages from various writers which corroborate his opinion,\nbesides referring to the numerous uses to which glass was applied\nin the most remote ages. He goes on to say:\n\n\"Some of the observations of the ancients must appear very\nextraordinary, if magnifying glasses had never been known among\nthem. The boldness with which the Pythagoreans asserted that the\nsurface of the moon was diversified by mountains and valleys can\nhardly be accounted for, unless Pythagoras had been convinced of\nthe fact by the help of telescopes, which might have existed in\nthe observatories of Egypt and Chaldea before those countries\nwere conquered and laid waste by the Persians. Pliny (L. 11) says\nthat 1600 stars had been counted in the 72 constellations, and by\nthis expression I can only understand him to mean the 72 dodecans\ninto which the Egyptians and Chaldeans divided the zodiac. Now\nthis number of stars could never have been counted in the zodiac\nwithout the assistance of glasses. Ptolemy reckoned a much less\nnumber for the whole heavens The missionaries found many more\nstars marked in the Chinese charts of the heavens than formerly\nexisted in those which were in use in Europe. Suidas, at the word\n{Greek} (glass), indicates, in explaining a passage in\nAristophanes, that burning mirrors were occasionally made of\nglass. Now how can we suppose burning mirrors to have been made\nof glass without supposing the magnifying powers of glass to have\nbeen known? The Greeks, as Plutarch affirms, employed metallic\nmirrors, either plane, or convex, or concave, according to the\nuse for which they were intended. If they could make burning\nmirrors of glass, they could have given any of these forms to\nglass. How then could they have avoided observing that two\nglasses, one convex and the other concave, placed at a certain\ndistance from each other, magnified objects seen through them?\nNumerous experiments must have been made with concave and convex\nglasses before burning mirrors made of glass could have been\nemployed. If astronomers never knew the magnifying powers of\nglass, and never placed lenses in the tubes of the dioptrons,\nwhat does Strabo (L. 3, c. 138) mean when he says: 'Vapours\nproduce the same effects as the tubes in magnifying objects of\nvision by refraction?'\"\n\nMr. W. F. Thompson, in his translation of the \"Ahlak-i-Jalaly,\"\nfrom the Persian of Fak\u00edr J\u00e1n\u00ed Muhammad (15th century), has the\nfollowing note on the J\u00e1m-i-J\u00e1mshid and other magical mirrors:\n\"J\u00e1msh\u00edd, the fourth of the Kaianian dynasty, the Soloman of the\nPersians. His cup was said to mirror the world, so that he could\nobserve all that was passing elsewhere--a fiction of his own for\nstate purposes, apparently, backed by the use of artificial\nmirrors. Niz\u00e1m\u00ed tells that Alexander invented the steel mirror,\nby which he means, of course, that improved reflectors were used\nfor telescopy in the days of Archimedes, but not early enough to\nhave assisted J\u00e1msh\u00edd, who belongs to the fabulous and\nunchronicled age. In the romance of Beyjan and Manija, in the\n\"Shah N\u00e1ma,\" this mirror is used by the great Khosr\u00fa for the\npurpose of discovering the place of the hero's imprisonment:\n\n           \"The mirror in his hand revolving shook,\n           And earth's whole surface glimmered in his look;\n           Nor less the secrets of the starry sphere,\n           The what, the when, the bow depicted clear,\n           From orbs celestial to the blade of grass,\n           All nature floated in the magic glass.\"\n\n[FN#416] We have been told this king had three daughters.\n\n[FN#417] See in \"Blackwood's Magazine,\" vol. iv., 1818, 1819, a\ntranslation, from the Danish of J. L. Rasmussen, of \"An\nHistorical and Geographical Essay on the trade and commerce of\nthe Arabians and Persians with Russia and Scandinavia during the\nMiddle Ages.--But learned Icelanders, while England was still\nsemi-civilized, frequently made very long journeys into foreign\nlands: after performing the pilgrimage to Rome, they went to\nSyria, and some penetrated into Central Asia.\n\n[FN#418] This, of course, is absurd, as each was equally\ninterested in the business; but it seems to indicate a vague\nreminiscence of the adventures of the Princes in the story of The\nEnvious Sisters.\n\n[FN#419] There is a naivete about this that is particularly\nrefreshing.\n\n[FN#420] This recalls the fairy Meliora, in the romance of\nPartenopex de Blois. who \"knew of ancient tales a countless\nstore.\"\n\n[FN#421] In a Norwegian folk-tale the hero receives from a dwarf\na magic ship that could enlarge itself so as to contain any\nnumber of men, yet could be earned m the pocket.\n\n[FN#422] The Water of Life, the Water of Immortality, the\nFountain of Youth--a favourite and wide-spread myth during the\nMiddle Ages. In the romance of Sir Huon of Bordeaux the hero\nboldly encounters a griffin, and after a desperate fight, in\nwhich he is sorely wounded, slays the monster. Close at hand he\ndiscovers a clear fountain, at the bottom of which is a gravel of\nprecious stones. \"Then he dyde of his helme and dranke of the\nwater his fyll, and he had no sooner dranke therof but\nincontynent he was hole of all his woundys.\" Nothing more\nfrequently occurs in folk tales than for the hero to be required\nto perform three difficult and dangerous tasks--sometimes\nimpossible, without supernatural assistance.\n\n[FN#423] \"Say, will a courser of the Sun\n       All gently with a dray-horse run?\"\n\n[FN#424] Ting: assembly of notables--of udallers, &c. The term\nsurvives in our word hustings; and in Ding-wall--Ting-val; where\ntings were held.\n\n[FN#425] The last of the old Dublin ballad-singers, who assumed\nthe respectable name of Zozimus, and is said to have been the\nauthor of the ditties wherewith he charmed his street auditors,\nwas wont to chant the legend of the Finding of Moses in a version\nwhich has at least the merit of originality:\n\n          \"In Egypt's land, upon the banks of Nile,\n          King Pharaoh's daughter went to bathe in style;\n          She took her dip, then went unto the land,\n          And, to dry her royal pelt, she ran along the strand.\n\n          A bulrush tripped her, whereupon she saw\n          A smiling baby in a wad of straw;\n          She took it up, and said, in accents mild--\n          Tare an' agurs, girls! which av yez owns this child?\"\n\nThe Babylonian analogue, as translated by the Rev. Prof. A. H.\nSayce, in the first vol. of the \"Folk-Lore Journal\" (1883), is as\nfollows:\n\n\"Sargon, the mighty monarch, the King of Agan\u00e8, am I. My mother\nwas a princess; my father I knew not, my father's brother loved\nthe mountain-land. In the city of Azipiranu, which on the bank of\nthe Euphrates lies, my mother, the princess, conceived me, in an\ninaccessible spot she brought me forth. She placed me in a basket\nof rushes, with bitumen the door of my ark she closed. She\nlaunched me on the river, which drowned me not. The river bore me\nalong, to Akki, the irrigator, it brought me. Akki, the\nirrigator, in the tenderness of his heart, lifted me up. Akki,\nthe irrigator, as his own child brought me up. Akki, the\nirrigator, as his gardener appointed me, and in my gardenership\nthe goddess Istar loved me. For 45 years the kingdom I have\nruled, and the black headed (Accadian) race have governed.\"\n\n[FN#426] This strange notion may have been derived from some\nEastern source, since it occurs in Indian fictions; for example,\nin Dr. R\u00e1jendral\u00e1la Mitra's \"Sanskrit Buddhist Literature of\nNep\u00e1l,\" p. 304, we read that \"there lived in the village of\nV\u00e1sava a rich householder who had born unto him a son with a\njewelled ring in his ear.\" And in the \"Mah\u00e1bh\u00e1rata\" we are told\nof a king who had a son from whose body issued nothing but gold--\nthe prototype of the gold-laying goose.\n\n[FN#427] Connected with this romance is the tale of \"The Six\nSwans,\" in Grimm's collection-- see Mrs. Hunt's English\ntranslation, vol. i. p. 192.\n\n[FN#428] Mahb\u00fab. a piece of gold, value about 10 francs, replaces\nthe din\u00e1r of old tales. Those in Egypt are all since the time of\nthe Turks: 9, 7, or 6 1/2 frs. according to issue.--Note by\nSpitta Bey.\n\n[FN#429] Here again we have the old superstition of \"blood\nspeaking to blood,\" referred to by Sir Richard, ante, p. 347,\nnote 1. It often occurs in Asiatic stories. Thus in the Persian\n\"Bakhty\u00e1r N\u00e1ma,\" when the adopted son of the robber chief is\nbrought with other captives, before the king (he is really the\nking's own son, whom he and the queen abandoned in their flight\nthrough the desert), his majesty's bowels strangely yearned\ntowards the youth, and in the conclusion this is carried to\nabsurdity: when Bakhty\u00e1r is found to be the son of the royal\npair, \"the milk sprang from the breasts of the queen,\" as she\nlooked on him--albeit she must then have been long past\nchild-bearing!\n\n[FN#430] The enchanted pitcher does duty here for the witches'\nbroomstick and the fairies' rush of European tales, but a similar\nconveyance is, I think, not unknown to Western folk-lore.\n\n[FN#431] In a Norse story the hero on entering a forbidden room\nin a troll's house finds a horse with a pan of burning coals\nunder his nose and a measure of corn at his tail, and when he\nremoves the coals and substitutes the corn, the horse becomes his\nfriend and adviser.\n\n[FN#432] M. Dozon does not think that Muslim customs allow of a\nman's marrying three sisters at once; but we find the king does\nthe same in the modern Arab version.\n\n[FN#433] London: Macmillan and Co., p. 236 ff.\n\n[FN#434] This recalls the biblical legend of the widow's cruse,\nwhich has its exact counterpart in Singhalese folk-lore.\n\n[FN#435] This recalls the story of the herd-boy who cried \"Wolf!\nwolf!\"\n\n[FN#436] Again the old notion of maternal and paternal instincts;\nbut the children don't often seem in folk-tales, to have a\nsimilar impulsive affection for their unknown parents.\n\n[FN#437] Colotropis gigantea.\n\n[FN#438] R\u00e1kshashas and r\u00e1kshas\u00eds are male and female demons or\nogres, in the Hind\u00fa mythology.\n\n[FN#439] Literally, the king of birds, a fabulous species of\nhorse remarkable for swiftness, which plays an important part in\nTamil stories and romances.\n\n[FN#440] Here we have a parallel to the biblical legend of the\npassage of the Israelites dryshod\n\n[FN#441] Demons, ogres, trolls, giants, et hoc genus omne, never\nfail to discover the presence of human beings by their keen sense\nof smelling. \"Fee, faw, fum! I smell the blood of a British man,\"\ncries a giant when the renowned hero Jack is concealed in his\ncastle. \"Fum! fum! sento odor christianum,\" exclaims an ogre in\nItalian folk tales. \"Femme, je sens la viande fra\u00eeche, la chair\nde chr\u2044tien!\" says a giant to his wife in French stories.\n\n[FN#442] In my popular \"Tales and Fictions\" a number of examples\nare cited of life depending on some extraneous object--vol. i.\npp. 347-351.\n\n[FN#443] In the Tamil story-book, the English translation of\nwhich is called \"The Dravidian Nights' Entertainments,\" a\nwandering princess, finding the labour-pains coming upon her,\ntakes shelter in the house of a dancing-woman, who says to the\nnurses, \"If she gives birth to a daughter, it is well [because\nthe woman could train her to follow her own profession'], but if\na son, I do not want him;--close her eyes, remove him to a place\nwhere you can kill him, and throwing a bit of wood on the ground\ntell her she has given birth to it.\"--I daresay that a story\nsimilar to the Bengali version exists among the Tamils.\n\n[FN#444] It is to be hoped we shall soon have Sir Richard\nBurton's promised complete English translation of this work,\nsince one half is, I understand, already done.","title":"Supplemental Nights to the Book of the Thousand and One Nights \u2014 Volume 3 (of 6)","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":225128}