{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_44105/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_44105","id":"gutenberg_44105","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/44105","summary":null,"tags":["Arabs -- Folklore","Category: Adventure","Category: Classics of Literature","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Fairy tales","Folklore -- Arab countries"],"text":"THE\n ARABIAN NIGHTS.\n\n\n ILLUSTRATED\n WITH ENGRAVINGS,\n FROM DESIGNS\n BY R. WESTALL, R.A.\n\n\n IN FOUR VOLUMES.\n VOL. III.\n\n\n LONDON;\n Printed for Rodwell & Martin; and the other Proprietors.\n 1819.\n\n PRINTED FOR C. AND J. RIVINGTON; J. BOOKER; LONGMAN, HURST, REES,\n ORME, AND CO.; BALDWIN, CRADOCK, AND JOY; RODWELL AND MARTIN;\n G. B. WHITTAKER; SIMPKIN AND MARSHALL; AND HURST, ROBINSON, AND CO.\n\n 1825.\n\n PRINTED BY THOMAS DAVIDSON, WHITEFRIARS.\n\n\n\n\n CONTENTS.\n\n\n VOL. III.\n\n\n PAGE\n The Story of Noureddin and the Fair Persian 1\n The Story of Beder, prince of Persia, and Giahaure, princess of\n Samarcand 70\n The Story of Ganem, son to Abou Ayoub, and known by the surname\n of Love\u2019s Slave 155\n The Story of Prince Zeyn Alasnam, and the king of the Genii 212\n The Story of Codadad and his Brothers 233\n The Story of the princess of Deryabar 243\n The Story of the Sleeper awakened 269\n\n\n\n\n ARABIAN NIGHTS\u2019\n ENTERTAINMENTS.\n\n\n\n\n THE STORY OF\n NOUREDDIN AND THE FAIR PERSIAN.\n\n\nBalsora was for many years the capital of a kingdom tributary to the\ncaliphs of Arabia. The king who governed it in the days of caliph Haroun\nAlraschid was named Zinchi. They were both cousins, the sons of two\nbrothers. Zinchi not thinking it proper to commit the administration of\nhis affairs to one single vizier, made choice of two, Khacan and Saouy.\n\nKhacan was of a sweet, generous, and affable temper, and took a wonderful\npride in obliging those with whom he had any concern, to the utmost of\nhis power, without the least hinderance or prejudice to justice, whenever\nit was demanded of him; so that he was universally respected both at\ncourt, in the city, and throughout the whole kingdom; and every body\u2019s\nmouth was full of the praises he so highly deserved.\n\nSaouy was of a quite different character: he was always sullen and\nmorose, and treated every body after a disrespectful manner, without any\nregard to their rank or quality; instead of making himself beloved and\nadmired for his riches, he was so perfect a miser, as to deny himself the\nnecessaries of life. In short, nobody could endure him; and if ever any\nthing was said of him, to be sure it was something of ill. But what\nincreased the people\u2019s hatred against him the more was his implacable\naversion for Khacan; always interpreting in the worst sense the actions\nof that worthy minister, and endeavouring to do him all the ill offices\nimaginable with the king.\n\nOne day, after council, the king of Balsora diverted himself with his two\nviziers, and some other members of the council: they fell into discourse\nabout the women slaves, that with us are daily bought and sold, and are\nalmost reckoned in the same rank with our wives. Some were of opinion,\nthat it was enough if the slave that one bought was beautiful and well\nshaped, to make us amends for the wives, which, very often, upon the\naccount of alliance or interest in families, we are forced to marry, who\nare not always the greatest beauties, nor mistresses of any perfection,\neither of mind or body. Others maintained, and amongst the rest Khacan,\nthat neither beauty, nor a thousand other charming perfections of the\nbody, were the only things to be coveted in a mistress; but they ought to\nbe accompanied with a great deal of wit, prudence, modesty, and\nagreeableness; and, if possible, abundance of sense and penetration. The\nreason they gave for it was, that nothing in the world could be more\nagreeable to persons on whom the management of important affairs depend,\nthan, after having spent the day in that fatiguing employment, to have a\ncompanion in their retirement whose conversation is not only agreeable,\nbut useful and diverting; for, in short, continued they, there is but\nlittle difference between brutes and those men who keep a mistress only\nto look upon her, and gratify a passion that we have in common with them.\n\nThe king was entirely of their opinion who spoke last, and he quickly\ngave some demonstration of it, by ordering Khacan to buy him a slave, one\nthat was a perfect beauty, mistress of all those qualifications they had\njust mentioned, and especially very ingenious.\n\nSaouy, jealous of the honour the king had done Khacan, and vexed at his\nbeing of a contrary opinion, Sir, says he, it will be very difficult to\nfind a slave so accomplished as to answer your majesty\u2019s demand; and,\nshould they light upon such a one, (as I scarce believe they will,) she\nwill be a cheap bargain at ten thousand pieces of gold. Saouy, replied\nthe king, I perceive plainly you think it too great a sum: it may be so\nfor you, though not for me. Then turning to the chief treasurer, he\nordered him to send the ten thousand pieces of gold to the vizier\u2019s\nhouse.\n\nKhacan, as soon as he came home, sent for all the courtiers who used to\ndeal in women slaves, and strictly charged them, that, if ever they met\nwith a slave that answered the description he gave them, they should come\nand acquaint him with it. The courtiers, partly to oblige the vizier, and\npartly for their own interest, promised to use their utmost endeavours to\nfind out one to his liking. Accordingly there was scarce a day past but\nthey brought him one, yet he always found some fault or other with them.\n\nOne day as Khacan was getting on horseback very early in the morning to\ngo to court, a courtier came to him, and, with a great deal of eagerness,\ncatching hold of the stirrup, told him there was a Persian merchant\narrived very late the day before, who had a slave to sell so surprisingly\nbeautiful, that she excelled all women that his eyes ever beheld; and, as\nfor her parts and learning, the merchant engaged she could cope with the\nfinest wits and the most knowing persons of the age.\n\nKhacan, overjoyed at this news, which made him hope for a favourable\nreception at court, ordered him to bring the slave to his palace against\nhis coming back, and so continued his journey.\n\nThe courtier failed not of being at the vizier\u2019s at the appointed hour;\nand Khacan, finding the lovely slave so much beyond his expectation,\nimmediately gave her the name of the Fair Persian. As she had an infinite\ndeal of wit and learning, he soon perceived by her conversation that it\nwas in vain to search any farther for a slave that surpassed her in any\nof those qualifications required by the king, and therefore he asked the\ncourtier at what rate the Persian merchant valued her.\n\nSir, replied the courtier, he is a man of few words in bargaining, and he\ntells me, that the very lowest rate he can part with her at, is ten\nthousand pieces of gold: he has also sworn to me, that without reckoning\nhis pains and trouble from the time of his first taking care of her, he\nhas laid out pretty near the sum upon her education, on masters to\ninstruct and teach her, besides clothes and maintenance; and, as he\nalways thought her fit for a king, so from her very infancy, in which he\nbought her, he has not been sparing in any thing that might contribute\ntowards advancing her to that high honour. She plays on all sorts of\ninstruments to perfection, she dances, sings, writes better than the most\ncelebrated authors, understands poetry; and, in short, there is scarce\nany book but what she has read; so that there never was a slave of so\nvast a capacity heard of before.\n\nThe vizier Khacan, who understood the merit of the Fair Persian better\nthan the courtier, that only reported what he had heard from the\nmerchant, was unwilling to drive off the bargain to another time; and\ntherefore he sent one of his servants to look after the merchant, where\nthe courtier told him he was to be found.\n\nAs soon as the Persian merchant came, It is not for myself, but the king,\nsays the vizier Khacan, that I buy your slave; but, however, you must let\nhim have her at a more reasonable price than what you have already set\nupon her.\n\nSir, replied the merchant, I should do myself an unspeakable honour in\noffering her as a present to his majesty, were I able to make him one of\nso inestimable a value. I barely ask no more than what her education and\nbreeding up has cost me; and all I have to say is, that I believe his\nmajesty will be extremely pleased with the purchase.\n\nThe vizier Khacan would stand no longer bargaining with the merchant, but\npaid him the money down immediately. Sir, says he to the vizier, upon\ntaking his leave of him, since the slave is designed for the king\u2019s use,\ngive me leave to tell you, that being extremely fatigued with our long\njourney together, you see her at a great disadvantage; and though she has\nnot her equal in the world for beauty, yet if you please to keep her at\nyour own house but for a fortnight, and strive a little to please and\nhumour her, she will appear quite another creature: after that, you may\npresent her to the king with abundance of honour and credit; for which, I\ndoubt not but you will think yourself much obliged to me. The sun, you\nsee, has a little tarnished her complexion; but after two or three times\nbathing, and when you have dressed her according to the fashion of your\ncountry, she will appear to your eyes infinitely more charming than now.\n\nKhacan was mightily pleased with the advice the merchant gave him, and\nwas resolved to follow it. Accordingly the Fair Persian was lodged in a\nparticular apartment near his lady\u2019s, whom he desired to invite her to an\nentertainment, and henceforth to treat her as a mistress designed for the\nking: he also entreated his lady to get the richest clothes for her that\npossibly could be had, and especially those that became her best. Before\nhe took his leave of the Fair Persian, he says, Your happiness, madam,\ncannot be greater than what I am about to procure for you, since it is\nfor the king himself I have bought you; and I hope he will be better\npleased with the enjoyment of you, than I am in discharging the trust his\nmajesty has laid upon me: however, I think it my duty to warn you of my\nson, who, though he has a tolerable share of wit, yet is a young, wanton,\nforward youth; and therefore have a care how you suffer him to come near\nyou. The Fair Persian thanked him for his good advice; and after she had\ngiven him an assurance of her intention to follow it, he withdrew.\n\nNoureddin, for so the vizier\u2019s son was named, had all the liberty\nimaginable in his mother\u2019s apartment, with whom he usually ate: he was\nvery genteel, young, agreeable, and bold; and being master of abundance\nof wit and readiness of expression, he had the art of persuading people\nto whatever he pleased. He saw the Fair Persian; and from their first\ninterview, though he knew his father had bought her purposely for the\nking, and he himself had declared the same, yet he never used the least\nendeavour to put a stop to the violence of his passion. In short, he\nresigned himself wholly to the power of her charms, by which his heart\nwas at first conquered: and being ravished with her conversation, he was\nresolved to employ his utmost endeavours to get her from the king.\n\nOn the other hand, the Fair Persian had no dislike to Noureddin. The\nvizier, says she to herself, has done me a particular honour in buying me\nfor the king of Balsora; but I should have thought myself very happy if\nhe had designed me only for his son.\n\nNoureddin was not backward in making use of the advantage of seeing,\nentertaining, and conversing with a beauty he was so passionately in love\nwith; for he would never leave her until his mother forced him to do it.\nMy son, she would say, it is not proper for a young man, as you are, to\nbe always amongst the ladies; go mind your studies, that in time you may\nbe worthy to succeed your father in his high posts and honours.\n\nIt being a great while since the Fair Persian had bathed, on account of\nher late fatiguing journey, the vizier\u2019s lady, five or six days after she\nwas bought, ordered a private bath in her own house to be got ready\npurposely for her. She had a great many women slaves to wait upon her,\nwho were charged by the vizier\u2019s lady, to be as careful of her as of her\nown person, and, after bathing, to put on her a very rich suit of clothes\nthat she had provided for her; and all this pains and care was taken\npurely to ingratiate herself the more into her husband\u2019s affection, by\nletting him see how much she concerned herself in every thing that\ncontributed to his pleasure.\n\nAs soon as she came out of the bath, the Fair Persian, a thousand times\nmore beautiful than ever she appeared to Khacan when he bought her, went\nto make a visit to his lady, who at first sight hardly knew her. After\nhaving saluted her in a very graceful manner, Madam, says she, I know not\nhow you like me in this dress you have been pleased to order for me; but\nyour women, who tell me it becomes me so extremely well they should\nscarce know me, are such gross flatterers, that it is from you alone I\nexpect to hear the truth: but, however, if what they say be really so, it\nis to you entirely, madam, that I owe the advantage it has given me.\n\nOh! my daughter, cries the vizier\u2019s lady, quite transported with joy, you\nhave no reason in the world to believe my women have flattered you: I am\nbetter skilled in beauty than they are; and, setting aside your dress,\nwhich becomes you admirably well, you appear so much handsomer than you\ndid before your bathing, that I hardly knew you myself: if I thought the\nbath was yet hot enough, I would willingly take my turn, for I am now of\nan age that requires frequent use of it. Madam, replies the Fair Persian,\nI have nothing to say to the undeserved civilities you have been pleased\nto show me; but, as for the bath, it is wonderfully fine; and if you\ndesign to go in, you must be quick, for there is no time to be lost, as\nyour women can inform you as well as I.\n\nThe vizier\u2019s lady, considering that she had not bathed for some days\npast, was willing to make use of that opportunity; and accordingly she\nacquainted her women with her intention, who immediately prepared all\nthings necessary on such an occasion. The Fair Persian withdrew to her\napartment; and the vizier\u2019s lady, before she went to bathe, ordered two\nlittle slaves to stay with her, with a strict charge, that if Noureddin\ncame they should not give him admittance.\n\nWhile the vizier\u2019s lady was bathing, and the fair slave alone in her\napartment, in came Noureddin, and not finding his mother in her chamber,\nwent directly to the Fair Persian\u2019s, where he found the two little slaves\nin the antechamber: he asked them where his mother was. They told him, in\nthe bath. Where is the Fair Persian, then? replied Noureddin. In her\nchamber, answered the slaves; but we have positive orders from your\nmother not to let you go in.\n\nThe entrance into the Fair Persian\u2019s chamber being only covered with a\npiece of tapestry, Noureddin went to lift it up in order to go in, but\nwas opposed by the two slaves, who clapped themselves just before it on\npurpose to stop his passage: he presently caught hold of both their arms,\nand thrusting them out of the antechamber, locked the door upon them.\nAway they immediately ran with a great outcry to the bath, and with\nweeping eyes told their lady that Noureddin, having driven them away by\nforce, had got into the Fair Persian\u2019s chamber.\n\nThe vizier\u2019s lady received the astonishing news of her son\u2019s presumption\nwith the greatest concern that could be: she immediately left off\nbathing, and dressing herself with all possible speed, came directly to\nthe Fair Persian\u2019s chamber; but before she could get thither, Noureddin\nwas fairly marched off.\n\nThe Fair Persian was extremely surprised to see the vizier\u2019s lady enter\nher chamber all in tears, and in the utmost confusion imaginable: Madam,\nsays she to her, may I presume to ask you the occasion of your concern;\nand what accident has happened in the bath, that makes you leave it so\nsoon?\n\nWhat! cries the vizier\u2019s lady, can you so calmly ask that question, after\nyour entertaining my son Noureddin alone in your chamber? or can there\nhappen a greater misfortune either to him or me?\n\nI beseech you, madam, says the fair slave, what injury can this action of\nNoureddin\u2019s do either to you or him?\n\nHow! replied the vizier\u2019s lady, did not my husband tell you that you were\ndesigned for the king, and sufficiently caution you to have a care of\nNoureddin?\n\nI have not forgot it, madam, replied the Fair Persian; but your son came\nto tell me the vizier his father had changed his mind, and, instead of\nreserving me for the king, as he first designed, has made him a present\nof my person. I easily believed him, madam; for oh! think how a slave as\nI am, accustomed from my infant years to the bonds of servitude, could\nhave the heart and power to resist him! I must own I did it with the less\nunwillingness on account of a violent passion for him, which the freedom\nof conversation, and seeing one another daily, has raised in my soul. I\ncould freely lose the hopes of ever being the king\u2019s, and think myself\nthe happiest of creatures in spending my whole life with Noureddin.\n\nAt this discourse of the Fair Persian\u2019s, Would to God, cries the vizier\u2019s\nlady, that what you say were true! for then I should have no reason to be\nconcerned: but, believe me, Noureddin is an impostor, and you are\ndeceived; for it is impossible his father should ever make him the\npresent you spoke of. Ah! wretched youth, how miserable hast thou made\nme, but more thy father, by the dismal consequences we must all expect to\nshare with him! Neither my prayers nor tears will be able to prevail, or\nobtain a pardon for him; but, as soon as his father hears of his violence\nto you, he will inevitably sacrifice him to his just resentment. At the\nend of these words she fell a-weeping bitterly; and the slaves, who had\nas tender a regard for Noureddin as herself, bore her company.\n\nA little after this, in came the vizier Khacan; and being mightily\nsurprised to find his lady and her slaves all in tears, and the Fair\nPersian very melancholy, asked the reason of it; but they, instead of\nanswering him, kept on weeping and making hideous lamentations. He was\nmore astonished at this than he was before; at last, addressing himself\nto his wife, I command you, says he, to let me know the occasion of your\ntears, and to tell me the whole truth of the matter.\n\nThe poor disconsolate lady being forced to satisfy her husband, Sir, says\nshe, you shall first promise not to use me unkindly upon the discovery of\nwhat you are desirous to know, since I tell you beforehand that what has\nhappened has not been occasioned by any fault of mine. While I was\nbathing with my women, continued she, your son, laying hold of that fatal\nopportunity to ruin us both, came hither, and made the Fair Persian\nbelieve that, instead of reserving her for the king, as you once\ndesigned, you had given her to him as a present: I do not say he has done\nthis out of any ill design, but shall leave you to judge of it yourself.\nIt is upon your account, and his, for whom I want confidence to implore\nyour pardon, that I am so extremely concerned.\n\nIt is impossible to express the vizier Khacan\u2019s distraction upon the\nhearing of the insolence of his son Noureddin: Ah! cried he, beating his\nbreast, and tearing his beard, Miserable son! unworthy of life! hast thou\nat last thrown thy father from the highest pinnacle of happiness into a\nmisfortune that must inevitably involve thee also in its ruin? Neither\nwill the king be satisfied with thy blood nor mine, but will revenge\nhimself after a more severe manner for the affront offered to his royal\nperson.\n\nHis lady used her utmost endeavours to comfort and assuage his sorrow.\nConcern yourself no more about the matter, my dear, said she; I will sell\npart of my jewels for ten thousand pieces of gold, with which you may buy\nanother slave, handsomer, and more agreeable to the king\u2019s fancy than\nthis.\n\nAh! replied the vizier, could you think me of so mean a spirit, as to be\nso extremely afflicted at the losing ten thousand pieces of gold? It is\nnot that, nor the loss of all my goods, which I can easily part with; but\nthe forfeiting of my honour, more precious than all the riches in the\nworld, that torments and touches me so nearly. However, methinks, replied\nthe lady, this can be no very considerable damage, since it is in the\npower of money to repair it.\n\nHow! cried the vizier, you know Saouy is my mortal enemy; and as soon as\nthis affair comes to his knowledge, do you think he will not insult over\nme, and mock my misfortunes before the king? Your majesty, he will say to\nhim, is always talking of Khacan\u2019s zeal and affection for your service:\nbut see what a proof he has lately given of his being worthy the respect\nyou have hitherto shown him. He has received ten thousand pieces of gold\nto buy a slave with; and, to do him justice, he has honourably performed\nthat commission, in buying the most beautiful that ever eyes beheld; but,\ninstead of bringing her to your majesty, he has thought it better to make\na present of her to his son: Here, my son, said he, take this slave,\nsince thou art more worthy of her than the king. Then, with his usual\nmalice, will he go on: His son has her now entirely in his possession,\nand every day revels in her arms, without the least disturbance: this,\nsir, is the whole truth of the matter, that I have done myself the honour\nof acquainting you with; and if your majesty questions the truth of it,\nyou may easily satisfy yourself. Do you not plainly see, my dear,\ncontinued the vizier, how, upon such a malicious insinuation as this, I\nam every moment liable to have my house forced open by the king\u2019s guards,\nand the Fair Persian taken from me, besides a thousand other misfortunes\nthat will unavoidably follow? Sir, said the vizier\u2019s lady to her husband,\nafter he had finished his discourse, I am sensible the malice of Saouy is\nvery great, and that, if he has had but the least intimation of this\naffair, he will certainly give it a turn very disadvantageous to your\ninterest: but how is it possible that he or any body else should come to\nthe knowledge of what has been privately transacted in your family?\nSuppose it comes to the king\u2019s ear, and he should ask you about it,\ncannot you say, that upon strict examination, you did not think the slave\nso fit for his majesty\u2019s use as you did at the first view; that the\nmerchant has cheated you; that, indeed, she has a great deal of beauty,\nbut is nothing near so witty or agreeable as she was reported to be? The\nking will certainly believe what you say, and Saouy be vexed to the soul\nto see all his malicious designs of ruining you eternally disappointed.\nTake courage, then, and, if you will follow my advice, send for all the\ncourtiers, tell them you do not like the Fair Persian, and order them to\nbe as expeditious as possible in getting another slave.\n\nThe vizier Khacan, highly approving of this advice, was resolved to make\nuse of it; and though his passion began to cool a little, yet his\nindignation against his son Noureddin was not in the least abated.\n\nNoureddin came not in sight all that day; and, not daring to hide himself\namong his companions, lest his father should search their houses for him,\nhe went a little way out of town, and took sanctuary in a garden where he\nhad never been before, and where his person was utterly unknown. It was\nvery late when he came back, being willing to stay till his father was\na-bed, and then his mother\u2019s women opening the door very softly, let him\nin without any manner of noise. The next morning he went out before his\nfather was stirring; and thus for a whole month was he put to his shifts,\nwhich was a terrible mortification to him. Indeed the women never\nflattered him, but told him plainly his father\u2019s anger was as great as\never, and if he came in his sight he would certainly kill him.\n\nThough the vizier\u2019s lady was informed by her women of Noureddin\u2019s lying\nevery night in the house, yet she durst not presume to entreat her\nhusband to pardon him. At last, one day, says she to him; I have hitherto\nbeen silent, not daring to take the liberty of talking to you about your\nson; but now give me leave to ask you what you design to do with him.\nIndeed it is impossible for a son to be more criminal towards a father\nthan Noureddin has been towards you; he has robbed you of the honour and\nsatisfaction of presenting the king with a slave so accomplished as the\nFair Persian: but, after all, are you absolutely resolved to destroy him;\nand, instead of a light evil, draw upon yourself a far greater than\nperhaps you imagine at present? Are you not afraid that the world, which\nspitefully inquires after the reason of your son\u2019s absconding, should\nfind out the true cause which you are so desirous of keeping secret? and\nif that should happen, you would justly fall into a misfortune which it\nis so much your interest to avoid.\n\nMadam, said the vizier, there is abundance of sound reasoning in what you\nhave urged: however, I cannot think of pardoning Noureddin till I have\nhumbled him a little more. He shall be sufficiently mortified, replied\nthe lady, if you will put in execution what is just come into my mind.\nYou must know, then, your son comes hither every night after you are\na-bed; he lies here, and steals out every morning before you are\nstirring: you shall wait for his coming in to-night; make as if you\ndesigned to kill him; upon which I will run to his assistance, and when\nhe finds his life entirely owing to my prayers and entreaties, you may\noblige him to take the Fair Persian on what condition soever you please.\nHe loves her, and I am sensible the fair slave has no aversion for him.\n\nKhacan was very willing to make use of this stratagem: so, when Noureddin\ncame at the usual hour, before the door was opened, he placed himself\nbehind it: as soon as ever he entered, he rushed suddenly upon him, and\ngot him down under his feet. Noureddin, lifting up his head, saw his\nfather with a dagger in his hand, ready prepared to stab him.\n\nAt that very instant, in came his mother, and, catching hold of the\nvizier\u2019s arm, Sir, cried she, what are you a-doing? Let me alone, replied\nthe vizier, that I may kill this base unworthy son. You shall kill me\nfirst, cried the mother; nor will I suffer you to imbrue your hands in\nyour own blood: speak to him, Noureddin, speak to him, and improve this\ntender moment. My father, cried he, with tears in his eyes, I implore\nyour clemency and compassion; nor must you deny me pardon, since I ask it\nin His name before whom we must all appear at the last day.\n\nKhacan suffered the poniard to be taken out of his hand; and as soon as\nNoureddin was released, he threw himself at his father\u2019s feet, and kissed\nthem, to show how sincerely he repented of his having ever offended him.\nNoureddin, said he, return your mother thanks, since it is purely for her\nsake I pardon you. I design also to give you the Fair Persian, on\ncondition that you will oblige yourself by an oath not to look upon her\nany longer as a slave, but as your wife, that you will not sell her, nor\never be divorced from her; for, having abundance of wit and prudence,\nbesides much better conduct than you, I am persuaded she will be able to\nmoderate those rash sallies of youth which are enough to ruin you.\n\nNoureddin, who little expected to be treated after so kind and indulgent\na manner, returned his father a thousand thanks, with all the gratitude\nand sincerity imaginable; and, in the conclusion, the vizier, the Fair\nPersian, and he, were well pleased and satisfied with the match.\n\nThe vizier Khacan would not stay in expectation of the king\u2019s asking him\nabout the order he had given him, but took particular care to mention it\noften, in representing to his majesty the many difficulties he met with\nin that affair, and how fearful he was of not acquitting himself to his\nmajesty\u2019s satisfaction. In short, he managed the business with so much\ncunning and address, that the king insensibly forgot it; and, though\nSaouy had got some small information of the matter, yet Khacan was so\nmuch in the king\u2019s favour, that he was afraid to speak of it.\n\nIt was now above a year that this nice affair had been kept with greater\nsecrecy than at first the vizier expected; when, being one day in the\nbath, and some important business obliging him to leave it all in a\nsweat, the air, which was then a little moist, struck a damp to his\nbreast, caused a defluxion of rheum to fall upon his lungs, which threw\nhim into a violent fever, and confined him to his bed. His illness\ngrowing every day worse, and perceiving he had but a few moments to live,\nhe thus addressed himself to his son Noureddin, who never stirred from\nhim during his whole sickness: My son, I know not whether I have made a\ngood use of the riches Heaven has blessed me with, but you see they are\nnot able to save me from the hands of death: the last thing I desire of\nyou, with my dying breath, is, that you would be mindful of the promise\nyou made concerning the Fair Persian; and, with a certainty of that, I\nshall die pleased and well contented.\n\nThese were the vizier\u2019s last words; who, dying a few moments after, left\nhis family, the court, and the whole city in great affliction for his\ndeath. The king lamented him, as having lost a wise, zealous, and\nfaithful minister; and the whole city wept for him as their protector and\nbenefactor. Never was there a funeral at Balsora solemnized with greater\npomp and magnificence; the viziers and emirs, and, in general, all the\ngrandees of the court, strove for the honour of bearing his coffin, one\nafter another, upon their shoulders to the place of burial; and both rich\nand poor accompanied him thither with tears.\n\nNoureddin gave all the demonstration of a sorrow equal to the loss he had\nlately sustained, and lived a great while without ever seeing any\ncompany. At last, he admitted of a visit from an intimate friend of his.\nHis friend endeavoured to comfort him all he could; and, finding him a\nlittle inclinable to hear reason, he told him, that, having paid what was\ndue to the memory of his father, and fully satisfied all that custom and\ndecency required of him, it was now high time to appear again in the\nworld to converse with his friends, and maintain a character suitable to\nhis birth and merit: For, continued he, we should sin both against the\nlaws of nature and civility, and be thought insensible, if, upon the\ndeath of our fathers, we neglected to pay them what filial love and\ntenderness require at our hands; but having once performed that duty, and\nput it out of the power of any man to reproach us upon that account, we\nare obliged to return to our usual method of living. Dry up your tears\nthen, and re-assume that wonted air of gaiety which always inspires with\njoy those that have the honour of your conversation.\n\nThis advice seeming very reasonable to Noureddin, he was easily persuaded\nto follow it; and, if he had been ruled by his friend in every thing, he\nwould certainly have avoided all the misfortunes that afterwards befell\nhim. He treated him very nobly; and, when he took his leave, Noureddin\ndesired him to come the next day, and bring three or four friends of\ntheir acquaintance. By this means he insensibly fell into the society of\nabout ten young gentlemen, pretty near his own age, with whom he spent\nhis time in continual feasting and entertainments; and scarce a day came\nover his head but he made every one of them some considerable present.\n\nSometimes, to oblige his friends after a more particular manner,\nNoureddin would send for the Fair Persian to entertain them; who,\nnotwithstanding her obedience to his command, never approved of his\nextravagant way of living, and often took the liberty of speaking her\nmind freely. Sir, said she, I question not but your father has left you\nabundance of riches; but, how great soever they are, be not angry with\nyour slave for telling you that, at this rate of living, you will quickly\nsee an end of them. We may indeed sometimes afford to treat our friends,\nand be merry with them; but, to make a daily practice of it, is certainly\nthe high road to ruin and destruction. Therefore, for your own honour and\nreputation, you would do much better to follow the footsteps of your\ndeceased father, that, in time, you may rise to that dignity by which he\nacquired so much glory and renown.\n\nNoureddin hearkened to the fair Persian\u2019s discourse with a smiling\ncountenance; and, when she had done, My charmer, said he, with the same\nair of mirth, say no more of that; let us talk of nothing but mirth and\npleasure. In my father\u2019s lifetime I was always under restraint, and I am\nnow resolved to enjoy the liberty I so much sighed for before his death.\nIt is time enough for me to think of leading a sober regular life; and a\nman of my age ought to taste the pleasures of youth.\n\nWhat contributed very much towards ruining Noureddin\u2019s fortune, was his\nunwillingness to reckon with his steward; for, whenever he brought in his\naccounts, he still sent him away without examining them. Go, go, said he,\nI trust wholly to your honesty; therefore only take care to let me have\nwherewith to make merry.\n\nYou are the master, sir, replied he, and I but the steward; however, you\nwould do well to think upon the proverb, He that spends much and has but\nlittle, must at last insensibly be reduced to poverty. You are not\ncontented with keeping an extravagant table, but you must lavish away\nyour estate with both hands: and were your coffers as large as mountains,\nthey would not be sufficient to maintain you. Begone, replied Noureddin;\nyour grave lessons are needless; only take care to provide good eating\nand drinking, and trouble your head no farther about the rest.\n\nIn the mean time Noureddin\u2019s friends were constant guests at his table,\nand never failed making some advantage of the easiness of his temper.\nThey praised and flattered him, extolling his most indifferent actions to\nthe very skies. But, above all, they took particular care to commend\nwhatever belonged to him and his; and this, they found, turned to some\naccount. Sir, says one of them, I came the other day by your estate that\nlies in such a place: certainly there is nothing so magnificent, or so\nhandsomely furnished, as your house; and the garden belonging to it is a\nparadise upon earth. I am very glad it pleases you, says Noureddin. Here,\nbring me pen, ink, and paper: but, without more words, it is at your\nservice, and I make you a present of it. No sooner had others commended\nhis house, baths, and some public buildings erected for the use of\nstrangers, the yearly revenue of which was very considerable, than he\nimmediately gave them away. The Fair Persian could not forbear letting\nhim know how much injury he did himself; but, instead of taking any\nnotice of it, he continued his extravagances, and, upon the first\nopportunity, squandered away the little he had left.\n\nIn short, Noureddin did nothing for a whole year together, but feasted\nand made himself merry, wasting and consuming, after a prodigal manner,\nthe riches that his predecessors, and the good vizier his father, had,\nwith so much pains and care, heaped together and preserved.\n\nThe year was but just expired, when somebody one day knocked at the hall\ndoor, where he and his friends were at dinner together by themselves,\nhaving sent away their slaves, that they might enjoy a greater liberty\nand freedom of conversation.\n\nOne of his friends offered to rise, but Noureddin stepped before him, and\nopened the door himself. It seems it was the steward; and Noureddin going\na little out of the hall to know his business, left the door half open.\n\nThe friend that offered to rise from his seat, seeing it was the steward,\nand being somewhat curious to know what he had to say to Noureddin,\nplaced himself between the hangings and the door, where he plainly\noverheard the steward\u2019s discourse to his master. Sir, said the steward, I\nask a thousand pardons for my coming to disturb you in the height of your\njoys; but this affair is of such importance, that I thought myself bound\nin duty to acquaint you with it. I come, sir, to make up my last\naccounts, and to tell you that what I all along foresaw, and have often\nwarned you of, is at last come to pass. Behold, sir, says he, (showing\nhim a small piece of money,) the remainder of all the sums I have\nreceived from you during my stewardship; the other funds you were pleased\nto assign me are all exhausted. The farmers, and those that owe you rent,\nhave made it so plainly appear to me that you have assigned over to\nothers whatever remains in their hands due to you, that it is impossible\nfor me to get any more from them upon your account. Here are my books; if\nyou please, examine them: and if you think fit to continue me in the\nplace I am now in, order me some other funds, or else give me leave to\nquit your service. Noureddin was so astonished at this discourse, that he\ngave him no manner of answer.\n\nThe friend who had been listening all this while, and had heard every\nsyllable of what the steward said, immediately came in and told the\ncompany what he had lately overheard. It is your business, gentlemen,\nsays he, to make use of this caution; for my part, I declare it openly to\nyou, this is the last visit I design to make Noureddin. Nay, replied\nthey, if matters go thus, we have as little business here as you; and,\nfor the future, shall take care not to trouble him with our company.\n\nNoureddin returned presently after; yet, notwithstanding his carrying it\npleasantly to his guests, by putting them into a merry humour again, he\ncould not so handsomely dissemble the matter but they plainly perceived\nthe truth of what they had been informed of. He was scarce sat down in\nhis place, when one of his friends rose up, saying, Sir, I am sorry I\ncannot have the honour of your company any longer; and, therefore, I hope\nyou will excuse my rudeness of leaving you so soon. What urgent affair\nhave you, replied Noureddin, that obliges you to be going? My wife, sir,\nsaid he, was brought to bed to-day, and upon such an occasion, you know a\nhusband\u2019s company is very acceptable; so, making a very low bow, away he\nwent. A minute afterwards, a second took his leave upon another sham\nexcuse; and so one after another, till at last not one of those ten\nfriends that had hitherto kept Noureddin company, was left in the room.\n\nAs soon as they were gone, Noureddin, little suspecting the resolution\nthey had made of never visiting him, went directly to the Fair Persian\u2019s\napartment, to whom, in private, he related all the steward had told him,\nand seemed extremely concerned at the ill posture of his affairs. Sir,\nsaid the Fair Persian to him, you would never take my advice, but always\nmanaged your concerns after your own way, and now you see the fatal\nconsequences of it. I find I was not mistaken, when I presaged to what a\nmiserable condition you would bring yourself at last; but what afflicts\nme the more, is, that at present you do not see the worst of your\nmisfortunes. Whenever I presumed freely to impart my thoughts to you, Let\nus be merry, said you, and in pleasures improve the time that fortune has\nkindly given us; perhaps she will not always be so prodigal of her\nfavours. But was I now to blame in telling you that we are the makers or\nundoers of our own fortunes, by a prudent or foolish management of them?\nYou indeed would never hearken to me; so, at last, much against my will,\nI was forced to desist, and let you alone.\n\nI must own, replied Noureddin, I was extremely in the wrong in not\nfollowing the advice that you, out of your abundance of prudence and\ndiscretion, was pleased to give me. It is true I have spent my estate;\nbut do you not consider it is among friends of a long acquaintance, who,\nI am persuaded, have more generosity and gratitude in them than to\nabandon and forsake me in distress? Sir, replied the Fair Persian, if you\nhave nothing but the gratitude of your friends to depend on, you are in a\ndesperate condition; for, believe me, that hope is vain and ill-grounded,\nand you will tell me so yourself in a very little time.\n\nTo this Noureddin replied, Charming Persian, I have a much better opinion\nof my friends\u2019 generosity than you. To-morrow I design to make a visit to\nthem all, before the usual time of their coming hither, and you shall see\nme return with a vast sum, that they will raise among them to support me.\nI am resolved to change my way of living, and, with the money they lend\nme, set up for a merchant.\n\nThe next morning, Noureddin failed not to visit his ten friends, who\nlived in the very same street. He knocked at the first door he came at,\nwhere one of the richest of them lived. A slave came to the door; but,\nbefore he would open it, he asked who was there? Go to your master, says\nhe to the slave, and tell him it is Noureddin, the late vizier\u2019s son.\nUpon this the slave opens the door, and shows him into a hall, where he\nleft him to go and tell his master, who was in an inner room, that\nNoureddin was come to wait on him. Noureddin! cried he, in a disdainful\ntone, loud enough for Noureddin to hear it with surprise. Go, tell him I\nam not at home; and whenever he comes hither, be sure you give him the\nsame answer. The slave came back, and told Noureddin he thought his\nmaster was within, but he was mistaken.\n\nNoureddin came away in the greatest confusion in the world. Ah! base,\nungrateful wretch! said he to himself, to treat me so basely to-day,\nafter the vows and protestations of love and friendship that you made me\nyesterday! From thence he went to another door, but that friend ordered\nhis slaves also to say he was gone out. He had the same answer at the\nthird; and, in short, all the rest denied themselves, though every one of\nthem was at home at the same time.\n\nIt was now that Noureddin began in earnest to reflect with himself, and\nbe convinced of the folly of his too credulous temper, in relying so much\nupon the vows and protestations of amity, that his false friends in the\ntime of his prosperity had solemnly made him. It is very true, said he to\nhimself, that a fortunate man, as I was, may be compared to a tree laden\nwith fruit, which, as long as there is any remaining on its boughs,\npeople will be crowding round; but, as soon as it is stripped of all,\nthey immediately leave it, and go to another. He smothered his passions\nas much as possible while he was abroad; but, no sooner was he got home,\nthan he gave loose to his sorrow, and resigned himself wholly to it.\n\nThe Fair Persian, seeing him so extremely concerned, fancied he had not\nfound his friends so ready to assist him as he expected. Well, sir, said\nshe, are you now convinced of the truth of what I told you? Ah! cried he,\nmy dear, thou hast been too true a prophetess; for not one of them would\nso much as know me, see me, or speak to me. Oh! who could ever have\nbelieved that persons so highly obliged to me as they are, and on whom I\nhave spent my estate, could ever have used me so barbarously? I am\ndistracted, and I fear committing some dishonourable action, below\nmyself, in the deplorable condition I am reduced to, without the aid and\nassistance of your prudent advice. Sir, replied the Fair Persian, I see\nno other way of supporting yourself in your misfortunes, but selling off\nyour slaves and moveables, and living upon the money, till Heaven shall\nfind out some other means to deliver you from your present misery.\n\nNoureddin was very loath to make use of this expedient; but what could he\ndo in the necessitous circumstance he was in? He first sold off his\nslaves; those unprofitable mouths, which were a greater expense to him\nthan what his present condition could bear. He lived on the money for\nsome time; and when all of it was spent, he ordered his goods to be\ncarried into the market-place, where they were sold for half their worth;\namong which were several valuable things that cost immense sums. Upon\nthis he lived for a considerable time: but that supply failing at last,\nhe had nothing at all left by which he could raise any more money; of\nwhich he complained to the Fair Persian in the most tender expressions\nthat sorrow could inspire.\n\nNoureddin only waited to hear what answer this prudent creature would\nmake. Sir, said she, at last, I am your slave, and you know that the late\nvizier your father gave ten thousand pieces of gold for me: perhaps I am\na little sunk in value since that time, but I believe I shall sell for\npretty near that sum yet. Let me entreat you then instantly to carry me\nto the market, and expose me to sale; and with the money that you get for\nme, which will be very considerable, you may turn merchant in some city\nwhere you are unknown, and by that means find a way of living, if not in\nsplendour, yet with happiness and content.\n\n\n THE STORY OF NOUREDDIN AND THE FAIR PERSIAN CONTINUED.\n\nAh! lovely and adorable Persian, cried Noureddin, is it possible you can\nentertain such a thought of me? Have I given you such slender proofs of\nmy love, that you should think me capable of so base an action? But\nsuppose me so vile a wretch, could I do it without being guilty of\nperjury, after the oath I have taken never to sell you? No, I could\nsooner die than part with you, whom I love infinitely beyond myself;\nthough by the unreasonable proposition you have made me, it is plain your\nlove is not so tender as mine.\n\nSir, replied the Fair Persian, I am sufficiently convinced that your\npassion for me is as violent as you say it is; and Heaven, who knows with\nwhat reluctance I have made this proposition that you dislike, is my\nwitness, that mine is as great as yours; but, to silence reason at once,\nI need only bid you remember that necessity has no law. I love you to\nthat degree, it is impossible for you to love me more: and be assured,\nthat to what master soever I shall belong, my passion shall always\ncontinue the same: and if you are ever able to redeem me, as I hope you\nmay, it will be the greatest pleasure in the world to be in your\npossession again. Alas! to what a fatal and cruel necessity are we\ndriven! But I see no other way of freeing ourselves from the misery that\ninvolves us both.\n\nNoureddin, who very well knew the truth of what the Fair Persian had\nspoken, and that there was no other way of avoiding a shameful poverty,\nwas in the end forced to yield to her first request. Accordingly he led\nher to the market, where the women-slaves are exposed to sale, with a\nregret that cannot be easily expressed. He applied himself to a courtier\nnamed Hagi Hassan: Hagi Hassan, said he, here is a slave that I have a\nmind to sell; I pray thee to see what they will give for her. Hagi Hassan\ndesired Noureddin and the Fair Persian to walk into a room; and when she\nhad pulled off the veil that covered her face, Sir, said Hagi Hassan to\nNoureddin, in a great surprise, if I am not mistaken, this is the slave\nyour father, the late vizier, gave ten thousand pieces of gold for?\nNoureddin assured him it was the same; and Hagi Hassan gave him some\nhopes of selling her at a good rate, and promised to use all his art and\ncunning to raise her price as high as it would bear.\n\nHagi Hassan and Noureddin went out of the room, and locked the Fair\nPersian in; after which Hagi Hassan went to look after the merchants; but\nthey being busy in buying slaves that came from different countries, he\nwas forced to stay till the market was done. When their sale was over,\nand the greatest part of them got together, My masters, said he to them,\nwith an air of gaiety in his looks and actions, every thing that is round\nis not a nut; every thing that is long is not a fig; all that is red is\nnot flesh; and all eggs are not fresh. It is true you have seen and\nbought a great many slaves in your lives, but you never yet saw one\ncomparable to her I am going to tell you of; in short, she is the very\npearl of slaves. Come, follow me, and you shall see her yourselves, and\nby that judge at what rate I shall cry her.\n\nThe merchants followed Hagi Hassan into the chamber where the Fair\nPersian was; and, as soon as they beheld her, they were so surprised at\nher beauty, that at the first word they unanimously agreed that four\nthousand pieces of gold was the very lowest price that they could set\nupon her. The merchants then left the room, and Hagi Hassan, who came out\nwith them, without going any farther, proclaimed with a loud voice, Four\nthousand pieces of gold for the Persian slave.\n\nNone of the merchants had yet offered any thing, and they were but just\nconsulting together about what they might afford to give for her, when\nthe vizier Saouy, perceiving Noureddin in the market, appeared. Said he\nto himself, Noureddin has certainly made some more money of his goods,\n(for he knew of his exposing them to sale,) and is come hither to buy a\nslave with it. Upon this he advanced forward just as Hagi Hassan began to\nproclaim a second time, Four thousand pieces of gold for the Persian\nslave.\n\nThe vizier Saouy, concluding by the extravagance of the price, that she\nmust be some extraordinary piece of beauty, had a longing desire to see\nher; so spurring his horse forward, he rode directly up to Hagi Hassan,\nwho was in the very middle of the merchants. Open the door, said he, and\nlet me see this slave. It was never the custom to show their slaves to\nany particular person, till after the merchants had seen her, and had the\nrefusal: but Saouy being a person of so great authority, none of them\ndurst dispute their right with him; and Hagi Hassan being forced to open\nthe door, beckoned the fair slave to come forward, that Saouy might have\na sight of her without the trouble of alighting from his horse.\n\nThe vizier was astonished at the sight of so beautiful a slave; and\nknowing the courtier\u2019s name, (having formerly dealt with him,) Hagi\nHassan, said he, is it not at four thousand pieces of gold that you cry\nher? Yes, sir, answered he, it is but a moment since I cried her at that\nprice, and the merchants you see gathered together here are come to bid\nmoney for her; and I question not but they will give a great deal more\nthan that.\n\nIf nobody offers any higher, I will give that sum, replied Saouy, looking\nupon the merchants at the same time with a countenance that forbade them\nto advance any more. In short, he was so universally dreaded, that nobody\ndurst speak a word, not so much as to complain of his encroaching upon\ntheir privilege.\n\nThe vizier Saouy having staid some time, and finding none of the\nmerchants outbid him, What do you stay for? said he to Hagi Hassan: go,\nlook after the seller, and strike a bargain with him at four thousand\npieces of gold, or more if he demands it; not knowing yet the slave\nbelonged to Noureddin.\n\nHagi Hassan having locked the chamber-door, went to confer notes with\nNoureddin: Sir, said he to him, I am very sorry to bring you the ill news\nof your slave\u2019s being just going to be sold for nothing. How so? replied\nNoureddin. Why sir, said Hagi Hassan, you must know that the business at\nfirst went on rarely; for, as soon as the merchants had seen your slave,\nthey ordered me to cry her at four thousand pieces of gold. Accordingly I\ncried her at the price; upon which the vizier Saouy came, and his\npresence has stopped the mouths of all the merchants, who seemed\ninclinable to raise her, at least to the same price your deceased father\ngave for her. Saouy will give no more than four thousand pieces, and it\nis much against my inclination that I am come to tell you the despicable\nprice he offers. The slave indeed is your own; but I will not advise you\nto part with her upon those terms, since you and every body else are\nsensible of her being worth infinitely more: besides, he is base enough\nto contrive a way to trick you out of the money.\n\nHagi Hassan, replied Noureddin, I am highly obliged to thee for thy\nadvice; but do not think I will ever sell my slave to an enemy of our\nfamily. My necessities indeed are at present very great, but I would\nsooner die in the most shameful poverty, than ever consent to the\ndelivering her up to his arms. I have only one thing to beg of thee, who\nart skilful in all the turns and shifts of life, that thou wouldst put me\nin a way to prevent the sale of her.\n\nSir, said Hagi Hassan, there is nothing more easy: you must pretend,\nthat, being in a violent passion with your slave, you swore to expose her\nin the market, and for the sake of your oath you have now brought her\nhither, without any manner of intention of selling her. This will satisfy\nevery body, and Saouy will have nothing to say against it. Come along\nwith me then; and just as I am presenting her to Saouy, as if it were by\nyour own consent, pull her to you, give her two or three blows, and send\nher home. I thank thee for thy counsel, said Noureddin, and thou shalt\nsee I will make use of it.\n\nHagi Hassan went back to the chamber, and having in two words acquainted\nthe Fair Persian with their design, that she might not be surprised at\nit, he took her by the hand, and led her to the vizier Saouy, who was\nstill, on horseback at the door: Sir, said he, here is the slave: she is\nyours; pray take her.\n\nThese words were scarce out of Hagi Hassan\u2019s mouth, when Noureddin,\ncatching hold of the Fair Persian, pulled her to him, and giving her a\nbox on the ear, Come hither, impertinence, said he, and get you home\nagain; for though your ill humour obliged me to swear I would bring you\nhither, yet I never intended to sell you; I have business for you to do\nyet, and it will be time enough to part with you when I have nothing else\nleft.\n\nThis action of Noureddin\u2019s put the vizier Saouy into a violent passion.\nMiserable debauchee, cried he, wouldst thou have me believe thou hast any\nthing else left to make money of but thy slave? And at the same instant,\nspurring his horse directly against him, endeavoured to have carried off\nthe Fair Persian. Noureddin, nettled to the quick at the affront the\nvizier had put upon him, quits the Fair Persian, and, laying hold of his\nhorse\u2019s bridle, made him run two or three paces backwards. Vile dotard,\nsaid he to the vizier, I would tear thy soul out of thy body this very\nmoment, were it not for the crowd of people here present.\n\nThe vizier Saouy being loved by nobody, but, on the contrary, hated by\nall, there was not one among them but was now pleased to see Noureddin\nmortifying him a little; and, by shrewd signs, they let him understand he\nmight revenge himself upon him as much as he pleased, for nobody would\nmeddle with their quarrel.\n\nSaouy endeavoured all he could to make Noureddin quit the bridle; but he\nbeing a lusty vigorous man, and encouraged by those that stood by, pulled\nhim off his horse, in the middle of a brook, gave him a thousand blows,\nand dashed his head against the stones till it was all of a gore of\nblood. The slaves that waited upon the vizier would fain have drawn their\nscimitars and fallen upon Noureddin, but the merchants interposing\nprevented them from doing it. What do you mean? said they to them; do not\nyou see the one is a vizier, and the other a vizier\u2019s son? Let them\ndispute their quarrel themselves; perhaps they will be reconciled one\ntime or other; whereas, if you had killed Noureddin, your master, with\nall his greatness, could not have been able to protect you against the\nlaw.\n\nNoureddin having given over beating the vizier Saouy, left him in the\nmiddle of the brook, and taking the Fair Persian, marched home with her,\nbeing attended by the people with shouts and acclamations for the action\nhe had performed.\n\nThe vizier Saouy, cruelly bruised with the strokes he had received, by\nthe assistance of his slaves made shift to get up, and had the\nmortification to see himself besmeared all over with blood and dirt. He\nleaned upon the shoulders of two slaves, and in that condition went\nstraight to the palace, in the sight of all the people, with so much\ngreater confusion because nobody pitied him. As soon as he reached the\nking\u2019s apartment, he began to cry out, and call for justice, after a\nlamentable manner. The king ordered him to be admitted; and as soon as he\ncame, he asked him who it was that had abused and put him into that\nmiserable pickle. Sir, cried Saouy, your majesty ought to afford me a\nlarge share of your favour, and to take into your royal consideration my\nlate abuse, since it was chiefly upon your account that I have been so\nbarbarously treated. Say no more of that, replied the king, but let me\nhear the whole story, simply as it is, and who the offender is; and if he\nis in the wrong, you may depend upon it he shall be severely punished.\n\nSir, said Saouy then, telling the whole matter to his own advantage,\nhaving an occasion for a cook-maid, I went to the market of women-slaves\nto buy me one. When I came thither, there was a slave just cried at four\nthousand pieces of gold: I ordered them to bring the slave before me, and\nI think my eyes never did, nor ever will, behold a more glorious creature\nthan she is. I had not time to examine her beauty thoroughly: but,\nhowever, I immediately asked to whom she belonged; and upon inquiry I\nfound that Noureddin, son to the late vizier Khacan, had the disposing of\nher.\n\nSir, you may remember that, about two or three years ago, you gave that\nvizier ten thousand pieces of gold, strictly charging him to buy you a\nslave with it. The money indeed was laid out upon this very slave; but\ninstead of bringing her to your majesty, thinking his son deserved her\nbetter, he made him a present of her. Noureddin, since his father\u2019s\ndeath, having wasted his whole fortune in riot and feasting, has nothing\nleft but this slave, which he intended to part with, and therefore she\nwas to be sold in his name. I sent for him, and without mentioning any\nthing of his father\u2019s baseness, or rather treachery, to your majesty, I\nvery civilly said to him, Noureddin, the merchants, I perceive, have put\nyour slave up at four thousand pieces of gold; and I question not but, in\nemulation of each other, they will raise the price considerably: let me\nhave her for the four thousand pieces; I am going to buy her for the\nking, our lord and master: this will be a handsome opportunity of making\nyour court to him, and his favour will be worth a great deal more than\nthe merchants can propose to give you.\n\nInstead of returning me a civil answer, as in good manners he ought to\nhave done, the insolent wretch beholding me with an air of fierceness,\nDecrepit villain, said he, I would rather sell my slave to a Jew for\nnothing than to thee for money. Noureddin, replied I, without any manner\nof passion, though I had some reason to be a little warm, you do not\nconsider that in talking at this rate you affront the king, who has\nraised your father and me to the honours we have enjoyed.\n\nThis admonition, instead of moving him to a compliance, provoked him to a\nhigher degree; so that, falling upon me like a madman, he pulled me off\nmy horse, beat me as long as he could stand over me, and has put me into\nthis miserable plight your majesty sees me in; and therefore I beseech\nyou, sir, to consider me, since it is upon your account I have been so\nopenly affronted. At the end of these words, he bowed his head, and\nturning about, wept a plentiful shower of tears.\n\nThe abused king, highly incensed against Noureddin by this relation, full\nof malice and artifice, discovered by his countenance the violence of his\nanger; and, turning to the captain of his guards that stood near him,\nTake forty of your soldiers, said he, and immediately go plunder\nNoureddin\u2019s house; and, having ordered it to be razed to the ground,\nbring him and his slave along with you.\n\nThe captain of the guards was not gone out of the king\u2019s presence, when a\ngentleman-usher belonging to the court, who overheard the order that had\nbeen given, got before him. His name was Sangiar, and he had been\nformerly the vizier Khacan\u2019s slave, by whose favour he was brought into\nthe court service, where by degrees he was advanced higher.\n\nSangiar, full of gratitude to his old master, and affection for\nNoureddin, with whom in his infancy he had often played, and being no\nstranger to Saouy\u2019s hatred to Khacan\u2019s family, could not hear the orders\nwithout concern and trembling. May be, said he to himself, this action of\nNoureddin\u2019s is not altogether so black as Saouy has represented it; but,\nhowever, the king is prejudiced against him, and will certainly put him\nto death without allowing him time to justify himself.\n\nSangiar made so much haste to Noureddin\u2019s house, as to get thither time\nenough to acquaint him with what had passed at court, and to desire him\nto provide for his own and the Fair Persian\u2019s safety. He knocked so\nviolently loud at the door, that Noureddin, who had been a great while\nwithout any servant, ran immediately to open it: My dear lord, said\nSangiar, here is no more staying for you in Balsora: if you design to\nsave yourself, you must lose no time, but depart hence this very moment.\n\nWhy so? replied Noureddin; what is the reason I must be gone so soon? Ah!\nsir, said Sangiar, make haste away, and take your slave with you; for, in\nshort, Saouy has been just now acquainting the king, after his own way of\ntelling it, all that happened between you and him; and the captain of the\nguards will be here in an instant, with forty soldiers, and seize you and\nthe Fair Persian. Here, sir, take these forty pieces of gold; it is all I\nhave about me, to assist you in finding out some other place of safety.\nExcuse my not staying any longer with you: I leave you with a great deal\nof unwillingness; but I do it for the good of us both. I have so much\ninterest with the captain of the guards, that he will take no notice of\nme. Sangiar gave Noureddin but just time to thank him, and away he went.\n\nNoureddin presently acquainted the Fair Persian with the absolute\nnecessity of their going that moment. She only staid to put on her veil,\nand then they both stole out of the house together, and were so very\nlucky, as not only to get clear of the city, without the least notice\nbeing taken of their escape, but also safely to arrive at the mouth of\nthe Euphrates, where they embarked in a vessel that lay ready to weigh\nanchor.\n\nThey were no sooner on ship-board than the captain came upon deck amongst\nhis passengers: My children, said he to them, are you all here? have any\nof you any more business to do in the city? or have you left any thing\nbehind you? They answered him they were all there, and ready prepared; so\nthat he might set sail as soon as he pleased. When Noureddin came aboard,\nthe first question he asked was, whither the ship was bound? and being\ntold for Bagdad, he greatly rejoiced at it. And now the captain having\nweighed anchor, set sail, and the vessel with a very favourable wind lost\nsight of Balsora.\n\nBut now let us see how matters went at Balsora, in the mean time, while\nNoureddin and the Fair Persian made their escape from the fury of the\nenraged king.\n\nThe captain of the guards came to Noureddin\u2019s house and knocked at the\ndoor, but nobody coming to open it, he ordered his soldiers to break it\ndown, who immediately obeyed him, and in they rushed in a full body. They\nsearched every hole and corner of the house, but neither he nor the Fair\nPersian were to be found. The captain of the guards made them inquire of\nthe neighbours, and he asked himself if they had seen them lately: it was\nall in vain; for, though they had seen him go out of his house, so\nuniversally beloved was Noureddin, that not one of them would have said\nthe least word that might be injurious to him. As soon as they had rifled\nthe house and levelled it to the ground, they went to acquaint the king\nwith the news. Look for them, said he, in some other places, for I am\nresolved to have them found.\n\nThe captain of the guards made a second search after them; and the king\ndismissed the vizier Saouy with a great deal of honour. Go home, said he\nto him; trouble yourself no farther with Noureddin\u2019s punishment; for with\nmy own hand I will revenge the insolence he has offered your person.\n\nWithout any farther delay, the king ordered the public criers to proclaim\nthroughout the whole city a reward of a thousand pieces of gold for any\nperson that should apprehend Noureddin and the Fair Persian, with a\nsevere punishment upon whomsoever should conceal them. But after all this\npains and trouble, there was no news to be heard of them; and the vizier\nSaouy had only the comfort of seeing the king espouse his quarrel.\n\nIn the mean time, Noureddin and the Fair Persian, after a prosperous\nvoyage, landed safe at Bagdad. As soon as the captain came within sight\nof that city, pleased that his voyage was at an end, Children, cried he\nto the passengers, cheer up, and be merry! look, yonder is that great and\nwonderful city, where there is perpetual concourse of people from all\nparts of the world: there you shall meet with innumerable crowds every\nday, and never feel the extremity of cold in winter, nor the excess of\nheat in summer; but enjoy an eternal spring, always crowned with flowers,\nand the delicious fruits of autumn.\n\nWhen the vessel came to anchor a little below the city, the passengers\ngot ashore, and every body went to the place they designed to lie at that\nnight. Noureddin gave the captain five pieces of gold for his passage,\nand went ashore also with the Fair Persian; but being a perfect stranger\nin Bagdad, he was at a loss for a lodging. They rambled a considerable\ntime about the gardens that bordered on the Tigris; and, keeping close to\none of them that was enclosed with a very high wall, at the end of it\nthey turned into a street finely paved, where they perceived a garden\ndoor, and a charming fountain near it.\n\nThe door, which was very magnificent, happened to be shut, but the porch\nwas open, in which there stood a sofa on each side. This is a very\nconvenient place for us, said Noureddin to the Fair Persian: night comes\non apace; and though we have eaten nothing since our landing, yet I\nbelieve we must even lie here to-night, and to-morrow we shall have time\nenough to get a lodging; what say ye to it, my dear? Sir, replied the\nFair Persian, you know very well I am never against what you propose;\ntherefore let us go no farther, since you are willing to stay here. Each\nof them having drunk a draught of water at the fountain, they laid\nthemselves down upon one of the sofas; and, after a little chat, being\ninvited by the agreeable murmur of the water, they fell fast asleep.\n\nThe garden, it seems, belonged to the caliph; and in the middle of it\nthere was a pavilion, called the Pavilion of Pictures, because its chief\nornament was pictures, after the Persian manner, drawn by the most\ncelebrated limners in Persia, whom the caliph sent for on purpose. The\nstately hall beneath this pavilion was adorned with fourscore windows,\nand in every window a branched candlestick. The candles were never\nlighted but when the caliph came thither to spend the evening, which was\nnever but when the weather was so very calm that not a breath of air was\nstirring. Then, indeed, they made a glorious illumination, and could be\nplainly discerned at a vast distance in the country on that side, and by\nthe greatest part of the city.\n\nThere was but one person that had the charge of this fine garden, and the\nplace was at this time enjoyed by a very ancient officer, named Scheich\nIbrahim, whom the caliph himself, for some important service, put into\nthat employment, with a strict charge not to let all sorts of people in,\nbut especially to suffer nobody either to sit or lie down on the sofas\nthat stood at the outward door, that they might always be clean and\nhandsome; and whenever he found any body there, to punish them severely.\n\nSome business had obliged this officer to go abroad, and he was not as\nyet returned. When he came back, there was just daylight enough for him\nto discern two persons asleep upon one of the sofas, with both their\nheads under a piece of linen cloth, to secure them from the gnats. Very\nwell, said Scheich Ibrahim to himself, here are brave people, to disobey\nthe caliph\u2019s orders; but I shall take care to pay them handsomely what\nthey deserve. Upon this, he opens the door very softly, and a moment\nafter returns with a swinging cane in his hand, and his sleeve tucked up\nto the elbow. He was just going to lay on them with all his force; but,\nwithholding his arm, he began to reason with himself after this manner:\nThou wast going to strike, without any consideration that these perhaps\nare strangers, destitute of a lodging, and utterly ignorant of the\ncaliph\u2019s order; for that reason, it would be advisable in thee to know\nfirst who they are. Upon this, he gently lifts up the linen that covered\ntheir heads, and being wonderfully astonished to see two persons so\nmightily beautiful and well-shaped, waked Noureddin, with pulling him\nsoftly by the feet.\n\n[Illustration p45: Drawn by R. Westall R.A. Engraved by Chad Heath.]\n\nNoureddin presently lifting up his head, and seeing an old man with a\nlong white beard standing at his feet, got up, and throwing himself upon\nhis knees, Good father, said he, Heaven preserve you! What do you want,\nmy son? replied Scheich Ibrahim: who are you, and from whence came you?\nWe are strangers newly arrived, answered Noureddin, and we would fain\ntarry here till to-morrow. This is not a proper place for you, said\nScheich Ibrahim: but come in with me, and I will find one fitter for you\nto sleep in than this; and I fancy the sight of the garden, which is very\nfine, will please you, when you see it to-morrow by daylight. Is this\ngarden your own? said Noureddin. Yes, replied Scheich Ibrahim; it is an\ninheritance left me by my father: pray walk in, for I am sure you will\nnot repent your seeing it.\n\nNoureddin rose up to thank Scheich Ibrahim for the civility he had shown\nthem, and afterwards the Fair Persian and he went into the garden.\nScheich Ibrahim locked the door, and going before, led them to an\neminence, from whence at one look they might almost take a view of the\ngrandeur, order, and beauty of the whole garden.\n\nNoureddin had seen very fine gardens in Balsora, but never any comparable\nto this. Having satisfied his curiosity in looking upon every thing worth\ntaking notice of, as he was walking in one of the alleys, he turned about\nto the officer that was with him, and asked what his name was. As soon as\nhe told him it was Scheich Ibrahim; Scheich Ibrahim, said he to him, I\nmust confess this is a charming garden indeed. Heaven send you long to\nenjoy the pleasures of it; and we cannot sufficiently thank you for the\nfavour of showing us a place so worthy our seeing. However, it is but\njust that we should make you some amends for your kindness: therefore,\nhere are two pieces of gold; take them, and get us something to eat, that\nwe may be merry together before we part.\n\nAt the sight of the two pieces of gold, Scheich Ibrahim, who was a great\nadmirer of that metal, laughed in his sleeve: he took them, and leaving\nNoureddin and the Fair Persian by themselves, went to provide what he was\nsent about. As soon as he was alone, said he to himself with abundance of\njoy, These are generous people; I should highly have injured myself, if,\nthrough imprudence or rashness, I had abused or driven them hence: the\ntenth part of the money will treat them like princes, and the rest I will\nkeep for my pains and trouble.\n\nWhile Scheich Ibrahim was gone to fetch something for his own supper, as\nwell as for his guests, Noureddin and the Fair Persian took a walk in the\ngarden, sometimes in one place and sometimes in another, till at last\nthey came to the pavilion of pictures that was in the middle of it. They\nstood a pretty while to admire its wonderful structure, beauty, and\nloftiness; and, after taking a full view of it on every side, they went\nup a great many steps of fine white marble, to the hall door, which they\nfound locked.\n\nThey were but just got to the bottom of the steps as Scheich Ibrahim\nreturned, loaded with provisions. Scheich Ibrahim, said Noureddin in a\ngreat surprise, did you not tell us that this was your garden? I did,\nreplied Scheich Ibrahim, and do so still. And does this magnificent\npavilion also belong to you? said Noureddin. Scheich Ibrahim was put to a\nnonplus, and would not hearken to any more questions: For, said he to\nhimself, if I should say it is none of mine, he will presently ask me how\nI can be the master of the garden and not the pavilion? So, being willing\nto make them believe the garden was his, he said the same of the\npavilion. My son, said he, the pavilion is not distinct from the garden,\nbut they both belong to me. If so, said Noureddin, since you are willing\nto let us be your guests to-night, do us the favour to show us the inside\nof it; for, if we may judge by the outward appearance, it must certainly\nbe very splendid and magnificent.\n\nIt would have been a great piece of incivility in Scheich Ibrahim to have\nrefused Noureddin that favour, after the returns he had made him:\nmoreover, he considered that the caliph not having given any notice,\naccording to the usual custom, it was likely he would not be there that\nnight, and therefore resolved to treat his guests, and sup with them in\nthat room. He laid the provisions upon the first step, while he went to\nhis chamber to fetch the key. He soon returned with a light, and opened\nthe door.\n\nNoureddin and the Fair Persian entered the hall; and finding it so\nextravagantly surprising, could not forbear admiring the beauty and\nrichness of the place. Indeed, without saying anything of the pictures,\nwhich were admirably well drawn, the sofas were very noble and costly;\nand, besides the branched candlesticks that were fixed to every window,\nthere was a silver spring between each cross bar, with a wax candle in\nit. Noureddin could not behold those glorious objects, which put him in\nmind of his former greatness, without sighing.\n\nIn the mean time, Scheich Ibrahim was getting supper ready; and the cloth\nbeing laid upon a sofa, and every thing in order, Noureddin and the Fair\nPersian and he sat down and ate together. When supper was done, and they\nhad washed their hands, Noureddin opened the casement, and calling the\nFair Persian to him, Come hither, my dear, said he, and with me admire\nthe charming prospect and beauty of the garden by moonlight; for\ncertainly nothing can be more agreeable. She came to him, and they both\ntogether diverted themselves with that lovely object, while Scheich\nIbrahim was busy in taking away the cloth.\n\nWhen Scheich Ibrahim came to his guests again, Noureddin asked him\nwhether he had any good liquor in his lodgings to treat them with. What\nliquor would you have? replied Scheich Ibrahim. Sherbet, I have the best\nin the world; but sherbet, you know, my son, is never drunk after supper.\n\nI know that very well, said Noureddin; it is not sherbet, but another\nsort of liquor that we ask you for; and I am surprised at your not\nunderstanding me. It is wine that I perceive you speak of, said Scheich\nIbrahim. You have hit right, replied Noureddin; and if you have any, pray\nlet us have a bottle: you know a bottle after supper is a very proper\ncompanion to spend the hours with till bed-time.\n\nHeaven defend me from keeping wine in my house, cried Scheich Ibrahim,\nand from ever coming to a place where any is to be sold! A man as I am,\nwho has been a pilgrimage four times to Mecca, has renounced wine for\never.\n\nHowever, said Noureddin, you would do us a singular kindness in getting\nus a little for our own drinking: and if it be not too much trouble, I\nwill put you in a way how you may do it, without ever going into the inn,\nor so much as laying your hand upon the vessel that contains it. Upon\nthat condition, I will do it, replied Scheich Ibrahim; therefore pray let\nme know how I am to manage it.\n\nWhy then, said Noureddin to him, we just now saw an ass tied at the\nentrance of the garden, which certainly must be yours, and which you may\nmake use of in this extremity. Here are two pieces of gold more; take\nthem, and lead your ass with the panniers towards the next inn: you may\nstand at as great a distance as you please; only give something to the\nnext passenger that comes by, and desire him to go with your ass to the\ninn, there load him with two pitchers of wine, one in one pannier and\nanother in another, which he must pay for out of the money we have given\nyou; and so let him bring the ass back to you: you will have nothing to\ndo but drive the beast hither before you; for we will take the wine out\nof the panniers; and by this means you will act nothing but what you may\ndo without any scruple at all.\n\nThe two last pieces of gold that Scheich Ibrahim was going to receive,\nwrought wonderfully upon his temper. Ah! my son, cried he, after\nNoureddin had done speaking, you have contrived the matter rarely; and\nhad it not been for your invention, I should never have found out a way\nof getting you some wine, without a little scruple of conscience. Away he\nwent to execute the orders he had received; and upon his return, which\nwas in a little time, Noureddin went down stairs, and taking the wine out\nof the panniers, carried it into the hall.\n\nScheich Ibrahim having led the ass back to the place from whence he took\nhim, came back again. Scheich Ibrahim, said Noureddin to him, we cannot\nenough thank you for the trouble we have already given you; but, my\nfriend, we want something yet. What is that? replied Scheich Ibrahim; is\nit anything that I can be farther serviceable to you in? Why, said\nNoureddin, we have no cups to drink out of; and a little choice fruit, if\nyou have any, would be very acceptable to us. Do but say what you have a\nmind to, replied Scheich Ibrahim, and you shall have every thing to your\nheart\u2019s content.\n\nDown went Scheich Ibrahim, and in a short time spread a table for them\nwith porcelain dishes, full of all sorts of delicious fruits, besides a\ngreat number of gold and silver cups to drink out of; and having asked\nthem if they wanted any thing else, he withdrew, though they pressed him\nearnestly to stay.\n\nNoureddin and the Fair Persian sat down again, and after a cup a-piece,\nthey were mightily pleased with the wine. Well, my dear, said Noureddin\nto the Fair Persian, are we not the most fortunate persons in the world,\nafter so many dangers, to meet with so charming and agreeable a place?\ncome, let us be merry, and think no more on the hardships of our voyage.\nCan my happiness be greater in this world, than to have you on one side\nof me, and my bottle on the other? They took off their cups pretty\nheartily, and diverted themselves very agreeably, in singing each of them\na song.\n\nBoth of them having very fine voices, but especially the Fair Persian,\nScheich Ibrahim, who had stood hearkening a great while on the steps\nwithout discovering himself, was perfectly charmed with their songs. He\ncould contain himself no longer; but, thrusting his head in at the door,\nCourage, sir, said he to Noureddin, whom he took to be quite drunk; I am\noverjoyed to see you so merry.\n\nAh! Scheich Ibrahim, cried Noureddin, turning to him, you are a glorious\nman, and we are extremely obliged to you. We dare not ask you to drink a\ncup; but pray walk in, and let us have the honour at least of your\ncompany. Excuse me, sir, said Scheich Ibrahim; the pleasure of hearing\nyour songs is sufficient for me. Upon this, he immediately retired.\n\nThe Fair Persian perceiving Scheich Ibrahim, through one of the windows,\nstanding upon the steps without the door, told Noureddin of it. Sir, said\nshe, you see what an aversion he has for wine; yet I question not in the\nleast to make him drink some, if you would do as I would have you.\nNoureddin asked her what it was. Do but say the word, replied he, and I\nam ready to do what you please. Prevail with him, then, only to come in\nand bear us company: some time after, fill up a bumper, and give it him;\nif he refuses it, drink it off, feign yourself to be asleep, and leave\nthe rest to me.\n\nNoureddin quickly finding out the drift of the Fair Persian\u2019s design,\ncalled to Scheich Ibrahim, who came again to the door: Scheich Ibrahim,\nsaid he, we are your guests; you have entertained us after the most\nobliging manner in the world; and will you now refuse us the honour of\nbearing us company? We do not ask you to drink, but only the favour of\nseeing you.\n\nScheich Ibrahim being at last prevailed upon, came into the hall, and sat\ndown upon the edge of a sofa that stood the nearest to the door. You do\nnot sit well there, said Noureddin; besides, you are too far off for us\nto converse with you: pray come nearer, and sit down by the lady, since\nshe will have it so. I will obey you, replied Scheich Ibrahim; so, coming\nforward with a simpering countenance, to think he should be seated near\nso beautiful a creature, he placed himself at some distance from the Fair\nPersian. Noureddin desired a song of her, upon the account of the honour\nthat Scheich Ibrahim had done them; and she sang one that charmed him to\nan ecstasy.\n\nWhen the Fair Persian had ended her song, Noureddin poured out a cup of\nwine, and presented it to Scheich Ibrahim; Scheich Ibrahim, said he,\nhere, drink this to our healths. Sir, replied he, starting back, as if\nthe very sight of the wine had put him into a horror and confusion, I\nbeseech you to excuse me; I have already told you, that I have forsworn\nthe use of wine these many years. Then positively you will not drink our\nhealths, said Noureddin; however, give me leave to drink yours.\n\nWhile Noureddin was drinking, the Fair Persian cut a piece of apple, and\npresented it to Scheich Ibrahim. Though you refused drinking, said she,\nyet I believe you will not refuse eating this piece of apple, since it is\na very good one. Scheich Ibrahim had no power to refuse it from so fair a\nhand; but taking it with a very low bow, kissed it, and put it in his\nmouth. She said a great many amorous things upon that occasion; and\nNoureddin tumbling back upon a sofa, pretended to fall fast asleep. The\nFair Persian presently advanced towards Scheich Ibrahim; and speaking in\na very low voice, See, said she, the sleepy sot! thus, in all our merry\nbouts, he constantly serves me; and no sooner has he drunk a cup or two,\nthan he falls asleep, and leaves me alone; but I hope you will have the\ngoodness to keep me company till he awakes.\n\nAt this, the Fair Persian took a cup, and filling it to the brim with\nwine, offered it to Scheich Ibrahim: Here, said she, drink off this to my\nhealth: I am going to pledge you. Scheich Ibrahim made a great many\ndifficulties of the matter at first, and begged her to excuse him from\ndrinking; but, at last, overcome by her charms and entreaties, he took\nthe cup, and drank every drop of the wine off.\n\nThe good old man loved a cheruping cup to his heart, but was ashamed to\ndrink among strangers. He often went to the tavern in private, as\nabundance of people do; and now his hand being once in, without any more\nceremony, or round-about ways, as Noureddin had instructed him, he goes\ndirectly to the next inn, where he was very well known, and fetches some\nmore wine (the night serving him instead of a cloak) with the money that\nNoureddin had ordered him to give the messenger that went for the first.\n\nAs soon as Scheich Ibrahim had taken off his cup, and made an end of the\npiece of apple, the Fair Persian filled him out another, which he\nreceived with less difficulty than the former, but made none at all at\nthe third. In short, he drank four times before ever Noureddin discovered\nhis pretended sleeping; but then bursting out into a violent fit of\nlaughter, he rose up, and looking upon him, Ha! ha! said he, Scheich\nIbrahim, are you caught at last? did you not tell me you had forsworn\nwine? and now you have drank it all up from me.\n\nScheich Ibrahim, not expecting to be surprised after that manner, blushed\na little: however, that did not spoil his draught: but when he had done,\nSir, said he to Noureddin, laughing, if there is any crime in what I have\ndone, it lies at this fair lady\u2019s door, not mine; for who could possibly\nresist so many charms?\n\nThe Fair Persian, who knew well enough what Noureddin would be at, took\nScheich Ibrahim\u2019s part: Let him talk, said she; Scheich Ibrahim, take no\nnotice of him; but let us drink on, and be merry. A while after,\nNoureddin fills out a cup for himself and the Fair Persian; but when\nScheich Ibrahim saw that Noureddin had forgot him in his turn, he took\nhis cup, and presenting it to the Fair Persian, Madam, said he, do I\npretend I cannot drink now?\n\nAt these words of Scheich Ibrahim\u2019s, Noureddin and the Fair Persian were\nready to split their sides with laughing. Noureddin poured him out some\nwine; and there they sat laughing, chatting, and drinking, till pretty\nnear midnight. About that hour, the Fair Persian began to take notice of\nthere being but one candle upon the table. Scheich Ibrahim, said she to\nthe good old officer, methinks you might have afforded us another candle,\nsince there are so many wax-lights yonder: pray do us the favour to light\nsome of them, that we may see a little better what we are doing here.\n\nScheich Ibrahim making use of the liberty that wine gives a man, when it\ngets up into the crown-office, and not caring to be interrupted in his\ndiscourse with Noureddin, bid the Fair Persian light them herself: It is\nfitter for you to do it than me, said he: but, hark ye, be sure not to\nlight above five or six; for this is enough. Up rose the Fair Persian\nimmediately, and taking a wax-candle in her hand, lights it with that\nwhich stood upon the table; and, without any regard to Scheich Ibrahim\u2019s\norders, set fire to the whole fourscore.\n\nBy and by, while Scheich Ibrahim was entertaining the Fair Persian with\nsome other discourse, Noureddin took his turn to desire him to light up\nsome of the candles in the branched candlesticks, not taking notice that\nall the wax-lights were already in a blaze: Certainly, replied Scheich\nIbrahim, you are lazier, or less vigorous, than I am, that you are not\nable to light them yourself: get you gone; but be sure you light no more\nthan three. To work he went; but, instead of that number, he lighted them\nall, and opened the shutters of the fourscore windows, before Scheich\nIbrahim, who was deeply engaged with the Fair Persian, knew any thing of\nthe matter.\n\nThe caliph Haroun Alraschid being not yet gone to bed, was in a parlour\nat his palace by the river Tigris, from whence he could take a side-view\nboth of the garden and pavilion. By chance, he opened the casement, and\nseeing the pavilion was illuminated, was mightily surprised at it; and at\nfirst, by the greatness of the light, thought the city was on fire. The\ngrand vizier Giafar was still with him, who only waited for his going to\nrest, and then designed to go home too. The caliph, in a great rage,\ncalled the vizier to him: Careless vizier, said he, come hither, look\nupon the pavilion of pictures, and tell me the reason of its being\nilluminated, now I am not there.\n\nThe grand vizier Giafar, upon this news, fell into a violent trembling,\nfearing something else was the matter; but, when he came nearer, and with\nhis own eyes saw the truth of what the caliph had told him, he was more\nastonished than before. However, being obliged to make some excuse to\nappease the caliph\u2019s anger, he said, Commander of the true believers, all\nthat I can say to your majesty about this matter is, that about five or\nsix days ago, Scheich Ibrahim came to acquaint me, that he had a design\nto call an assembly of the ministers of his mosque, to assist at a\nceremony he was ambitious of performing in your majesty\u2019s auspicious\nreign. I asked him if I could be any way serviceable to him in this\naffair; upon which he entreated me to get leave of your majesty to\nperform the ceremony in the pavilion. When he left me, I told him he\nmight do it, and I would take care to acquaint your majesty with it; but\nindeed I had quite forgot it, and I heartily ask pardon. Scheich Ibrahim,\ncontinued he, has certainly made choice of this day for the ceremony;\nand, after treating the ministers of his mosque, he was willing to divert\nthem with the sight of this illumination.\n\nGiafar, said the caliph, with a tone that plainly showed his anger was a\nlittle mollified, according to thy own words, thou hast committed three\nfaults that are unpardonable: the first, in giving Scheich Ibrahim leave\nto perform his ceremony in my pavilion; for a person in so mean an office\nas his, is not worthy of so great an honour: the second, in not\nacquainting me with it: and the third, in not diving into the bottom of\nthe good old man\u2019s intention. For my part, I am persuaded he only did it\nto try if he could get any money towards bearing the charge of it; but\nperhaps that never came into thy head: and sure I shall not wrong him, in\nforgiving him the expense of the night\u2019s illumination, which will be some\namends for thy presenting him with nothing.\n\nThe grand vizier Giafar, overjoyed to hear the caliph put the matter upon\nthat foot, very willingly owned the faults he reproached him with, and\nfreely confessed he was to blame in not giving Scheich Ibrahim a few\npieces of gold. Since the case is so, added the caliph, it is just that\nthou shouldst be punished for thy mistakes; but thy punishment shall be\nlight: thou shalt spend the remainder of the night as I do, with these\nhonest souls, whose company I am very well pleased with; and while I am\nputting on a citizen\u2019s habit, go thou and disguise thyself, with Mesrour,\nand come both of you along with me. The vizier Giafar told him it was\nlate, and that all the company would be gone before he could get thither;\nbut the caliph said he would positively go. The vizier, who knew that not\na syllable of what he said before was true, began to be in great\nconsternation; but there was no reply to be made, and go he must.\n\nThe caliph then, disguised like a citizen, with the grand vizier Giafar,\nand Mesrour, chief of the eunuchs, stole out of the palace together. They\nrambled through the streets of Bagdad, till at last they came to the\ngarden: the door, through the carelessness of Scheich Ibrahim, was open,\nhaving forgot to shut it when he came back from buying the wine. The\ncaliph was very angry at it: Giafar, said he to the grand vizier, what\nexcuse have you for the door\u2019s being open at this unseasonable hour? Is\nit possible that Scheich Ibrahim makes a custom of leaving it thus all\nnight? No; I rather believe the hurry of the feast has been the occasion\nof this neglect.\n\nThe caliph went into the garden; and when he came to the pavilion,\nresolving not to go into the hall till he knew what they were doing\nthere, he consulted with the grand vizier, whether it was not his best\nway to climb up into one of the trees that was near it, to make a\ndiscovery. The grand vizier at last casting his eye upon the door,\nperceived it stood half open, and told the caliph of it. It seems Scheich\nIbrahim had left it so, when he was prevailed upon to come in and bear\nNoureddin and the Fair Persian company.\n\nThe caliph laying aside his first design, stole softly up to the\nhall-door, which standing half-open, he had the conveniency of seeing all\nthe company that were within, without being discovered himself.\n\nNever was any person so surprised as he, when he saw a lady of an\nincomparable beauty, and a young, handsome, fine-shaped man, sitting at\nthe table, with Scheich Ibrahim by them. Scheich Ibrahim had just then\ngot a cup in his hand: My dear creature, said he to the Fair Persian, a\nright toper never drinks without singing a brisk tune first. If you\nplease to hear, I will give you one of my best songs.\n\nScheich Ibrahim sang; and the caliph wondered at it more, because till\nthat very moment he never knew any thing of his drinking wine, but always\ntook him for a grave solid man, as he seemed to be to outward appearance.\nThe caliph retired from the door with the same caution as he made his\napproach to it; and coming to the grand vizier Giafar, who was standing\nupon the steps a little lower, Come up, said he to him, and see if those\nwithin yonder are the ministers of the mosque, as you would fain have me\nbelieve.\n\nBy the tone of the voice in which the caliph spoke these last words, the\nvizier understood that things went ill on his side: however, he went up\nthe steps; but when he had peeped in at the door, and saw them all three\nsitting, and in that condition, he fell a-trembling for fear of his life.\nHe went back to the caliph, but in so great a confusion, that he had not\na word to say to him. What riotous doings are here? said the caliph to\nhim: who are those people that have presumed to take the liberty of\ndiverting themselves in my garden and pavilion? and how durst Scheich\nIbrahim give them admittance, and partake of the diversion with them?\nHowever, I must confess, I never saw two persons more beautiful, or\nbetter paired, in my life; and therefore, before I discover my anger, I\nwill inform myself a little better, and inquire who they are, and the\nreason of their being here. He went to the door again, to observe them\nmore narrowly; and the vizier who followed, stood behind him, and fixed\nhis eyes upon them. They both of them plainly heard every word that\nScheich Ibrahim spoke to the Fair Persian. Is there any thing, my\ncharming lady, wanting to render the pleasures of this night complete?\nNothing but a lute, replied the Fair Persian; and methinks, if you could\nget me one, all things would be very well. Can you play upon it? said\nScheich Ibrahim. Fetch me one, replied the Fair Persian, and you shall\nhear whether I can or not.\n\nScheich Ibrahim, without stirring very far from his place, pulled a lute\nout of a cupboard, and presented it to the Fair Persian, who began to put\nit in tune. The caliph, in the mean time, turning to the grand vizier;\nGiafar, said he, the young lady is going to play upon the lute; and if\nshe performs well, I will forgive her, and the young man for her sake;\nbut, as for thee, thou mayest go hang thyself. Commander of the true\nbelievers, replied the grand vizier, if that is your intention I wish she\nmay play ill. Why so? said the caliph. Because, replied the grand vizier,\nthe longer we live in this world, the more time we shall have to comfort\nourselves with the hopes of dying in good social company. The caliph, who\nloved a jest dearly, began to laugh at this repartee; and putting his ear\nto the open side of the door, he listened to hear the Fair Persian play.\n\nThe Fair Persian made such artful flourishes upon the lute, that from the\nfirst moment of her touching it, the caliph perceived that she did it\nwith a masterly hand. Afterwards, she began to sing; and suiting her\nvoice, which was admirably fine, to the lute, she sang and played with so\nmuch skill and sweetness, that the caliph was quite ravished to hear her.\n\nAs soon as the Fair Persian had finished her song, the caliph went down\nthe steps, and the vizier Giafar after him. When he came to the bottom,\nBy my soul, said he to the vizier, I never heard a more charming voice,\nor a lute better touched in my life. Isaac[1], that hitherto I thought\nthe most skilful player in the world, does not come up to her. In short,\nI am so charmed with her music, that I must hear her play before me; and\ntherefore contrive some way how to bring it about.\n\nCommander of the true believers, said the grand vizier, if you should go\nin, and Scheich Ibrahim chance to know you, he would infallibly die with\nthe fright. I should be extremely concerned at that, replied the caliph,\nand should be loath to be the occasion of his death, after so many years\u2019\nservice. But there is a thought just come into my head, how to compass my\ndesign: stay here with Mesrour, and wait for me in the next alley till I\ncome.\n\nThe neighbourhood of the Tigris had given the caliph the conveniency of\nturning a sufficient quantity of water under a stately bridge, well\nterraced, into his garden, to make a fine canal, whither the choicest\nfish of the whole river used to retire. The fishermen knew it very well,\nand would have given the world to fish there; but the caliph had\nexpressly charged Scheich Ibrahim not to suffer any of them to come near\nit. However, that very night, a fisherman passing by the garden door,\nwhich the caliph had left open as he found it, made use of this\nopportunity, and going in, went directly to the canal.\n\nThe fisherman immediately fell to work with his casting-nets, and was\njust ready to draw them, when the caliph, fearing what would be the\neffect of Scheich Ibrahim\u2019s negligence, but willing to make use of it, to\nbring his design about, came to the same place. The fisherman, in spite\nof his disguise, knew him, and throwing himself at his feet, humbly\nimplored his pardon, and excused himself upon account of his poverty.\nRise, saith the caliph, and be not afraid; only draw your nets, that I\nmay see what fish you have got.\n\nThe fisherman, recovered of his fright, quickly obeyed the caliph\u2019s\norders. He drew out five or six very large fishes; and the caliph,\nchoosing the two largest, tied them together by the head with a sprig of\na tree. After this, said he to the fisherman, Give me thy clothes, and\nhere take mine. The exchange was soon made; and the caliph being dressed\nlike a fisherman, even to his boots and turban, Take thy nets, said he to\nthe fisherman, and get thee about thy business.\n\nWhen the fisherman, very well pleased with his good fortune, was gone,\nthe caliph, taking the two fishes in his hand, went to look after the\ngrand vizier Giafar and Mesrour. He made a full stop at the grand vizier,\nwho, not knowing him, asked him what he wanted, and bade him go about his\nbusiness. Upon this, the caliph fell a-laughing; by which the vizier\nfinding it to be him, Commander of the true believers, said he, is it\npossible it can be you? I knew you not; and I ask a thousand pardons for\nmy rudeness: you are so strangely disguised now, that without any fear of\nbeing discovered by Scheich Ibrahim, you may venture into the hall. Stay\nyou here with Mesrour, said the caliph, while I go yonder and play my\npart.\n\nThe caliph went up to the hall, and knocked at the door. Noureddin\nhearing him first, told Scheich Ibrahim of it, who asked who was there.\nThe caliph opened the door, and stepping a little way into the hall to\nshow himself, Scheich Ibrahim, said he, I am the fisherman Kerim, who\nbeing informed of your design to treat some of your friends, have brought\ntwo very large fishes, fresh caught, to see if you have any occasion for\nthem.\n\nNoureddin and the Fair Persian, mightily pleased to hear him name fish,\nPray, said she to Scheich Ibrahim, let him come in, that we may look upon\nthem. Scheich Ibrahim, by this time, was incapable of asking this\ncounterfeit fisherman how or what way he came thither; but his whole\ndesign being only to oblige the Fair Persian, with much ado he turns his\nhead towards the door, being quite drunk, and in a stammering tone,\ncalling to the caliph, whom he took to be a fisherman, Come hither, thou\nnightly thief, said he, and let us see what thou hast got.\n\nThe caliph went forwards, and counterfeiting all the humours and actions\nof a fisherman to a nicety, presented them with the two fishes. These are\nvery fine ones indeed, said the Fair Persian; and if they were well\nordered, and delicately dressed, I should be glad to eat some of them.\nThe lady is in the right, answered Scheich Ibrahim; but what the plague\ncan we do with your fish, unless it was dressed? Go, dress it thyself,\nand bring it to us; thou wilt find every thing necessary for thee in my\nkitchen.\n\nThe caliph went back to the grand vizier: Giafar, said he, I have been\nvery well received; but they want the fish to be dressed. I will take\ncare to dress it myself, said the grand vizier, and they shall have it in\na moment. Nay, replied the caliph, so eager am I to accomplish my design,\nthat I will take abundance of pains about it too; for since I have\npersonated the fisherman so well, sure I can play the cook for once:\nbesides, in my younger days, I dealt a little in cookery, and always came\noff with flying colours. In saying these words, he went directly towards\nScheich Ibrahim\u2019s lodgings, and the grand vizier and Mesrour followed\nhim.\n\nAll three of them presently fell to work, and though Scheich Ibrahim\u2019s\nkitchen was not very large, yet there was every thing in it that they\nwanted. The fish was quickly cooked, and the caliph served it up, putting\nto every one\u2019s plate a lemon to squeeze, if they thought it proper, into\nthe sauce. They all ate very heartily, but especially Noureddin and the\nFair Persian; and the caliph sat down with them at the lower end of the\ntable.\n\nAs soon as the repast was over, Noureddin looking upon the caliph,\nFisherman, said he, never were better fish eaten, and you have done us\nthe greatest favour in the world. At the same time putting his hand into\nhis bosom, and pulling out a purse of thirty pieces of gold, the\nremainder of the forty that Sangiar, gentleman-usher to the king of\nBalsora, had given him just upon his departure; Here, said he to him,\ntake that, and if I had any more, thou shouldst have it: had I known thee\nin my prosperity, I would have taken care of securing thee from ever\nwanting: do not refuse the small present I make thee, but accept of it as\nkindly as if it was much greater.\n\nThe caliph took the purse, and perceiving by the weightiness that it was\nall gold, Sir, said he, I cannot enough thank you for your liberality,\nand I think myself very fortunate in having to do with a person of your\ngenerosity; but before I take my leave, I have a favour to ask, which I\nbeg you not to deny me. Yonder is a lute, which makes me believe that the\nlady understands playing upon it; and if you can prevail with her to play\nbut one tune, I shall go away the best satisfied in the world: a lute,\nsir, is an instrument I greatly admire.\n\nFair Persian, said Noureddin, immediately addressing himself to her, I\nask that favour of you, and I hope you will not refuse me. She took up\nthe lute without more entreaties, and putting it presently in tune,\nplayed and sang with such an air as charmed the very soul of the caliph\nwith its harmony. Afterwards she played upon the lute without singing,\nbut with so much skill and softness that it transported him into an\necstasy of joy.\n\nWhen the Fair Persian had given over playing, the caliph cried out, What\na voice! What a hand! What skill is here! Was there ever finer singing,\nor better playing upon the lute? Never was there any heard or seen like\nit.\n\nNoureddin, who was a person of breeding, and always returned the\ncompliment that was made him; Fisherman, said he, I find thou hast some\ntaste for music, since thou art delighted with her performance; and if\nthou likest her she is thine; I make thee a present of her. At the same\ntime he rose up, and taking his robe, which he had laid by, was for going\naway and leaving the pretended fisherman in possession of the Fair\nPersian.\n\nThe Fair Persian was extremely surprised at Noureddin\u2019s liberality; she\ntook hold of him, and looking very wishfully at him, Whither, sir, are\nyou going? said she; sit down in your place, I entreat you, and hearken\nto the song I am going to sing and play. He did as she desired him, and\nthen the Fair Persian touching her lute, and looking upon him with tears,\nsang some verses that she had made _extempore_ to reproach him with his\nindifference, and the easiness as well as cruelty of resigning her to\nKerim. She only hinted, without explaining herself any farther to the\nfisherman, for she was ignorant of his being the caliph, as well as\nNoureddin. When she had done playing, she put the lute down by her, and\nclapped a handkerchief to her face to hide the tears she could not help\nshedding.\n\nNoureddin made no answer to all these reproaches, but by his silence\nseemed to declare he did not repent of what he had done. The caliph\nsurprised at what he had newly heard, Sir, said he, as far as I see, this\nbeautiful lady, that so generously you have made me a present of just\nnow, is your slave, and you are her master. It is very true, Kerim,\nreplied Noureddin, and thou wouldst be more surprised than thou art now,\nshould I tell thee all the misfortunes that have happened to me on her\naccount. Ah! I beseech you, sir, replied the caliph, still behaving\nhimself like a fisherman, oblige me so far as to let me hear part of your\nstory.\n\nNoureddin, who had already obliged him in several things of a higher\nnature than this, was so complaisant as to relate the whole story to him.\nHe began with his father\u2019s buying the Fair Persian for the king of\nBalsora, and omitted nothing of what he had done, or what had happened to\nhim, from that time to their arrival at Bagdad, and since, to that very\nmoment he was talking to him.\n\nWhen Noureddin had ended his story, Whither are you going now? said the\ncaliph. Even where Heaven shall direct me, answered Noureddin. Believe\nme, replied the caliph, you shall go no farther, but on the contrary,\nreturn to Balsora: I will go and write a short letter, which you shall\ngive the king in my name; and you shall see upon the reading of it, he\nwill give you a very handsome reception, and nobody will dare to speak\nagainst you.\n\nKerim, said Noureddin, what thou hast told me is very unaccountable and\nsingular: didst thou ever hear that a poor fisherman, as thou art, had\nany correspondence with a king? Be not astonished at that, replied the\ncaliph; you must know then, that we both studied together under the same\nmasters, and were always the best friends in the world. It is true,\nfortune has not been equally favourable to us both; she has made him a\nking, and me but a fisherman. However, this inequality has not at all\nlessened our friendship: he has often expressed a readiness and desire to\nadvance my fortune, but I always refused it; and am better pleased with\nthe satisfaction of knowing that he never will deny me whatever I ask for\nthe service and advantage of my friends. Let me do it then, and you shall\nsee the success.\n\nNoureddin consented to what the caliph had proposed; and there being\nevery thing necessary for writing in the hall, the caliph wrote a letter\nto the king of Balsora; at the top of which, pretty near the edge of the\npaper, he placed this set form, in three small characters: \u2018In the name\nof the most merciful God,\u2019 to show he would be absolutely obeyed.\n\n\n THE LETTER OF CALIPH HAROUN ALRASCHID TO THE KING OF BALSORA\n\n\u2018Haroun Alraschid, son of Mandi, sends this letter to Mohammed Zinchi,\nhis cousin, greeting. As soon as Noureddin, son to the late vizier\nKhacan, the bearer, has delivered you this letter and you have read it,\npull off the royal mantle, put it on his shoulders, and place him in thy\nseat: fail not. So farewell.\u2019\n\n\nThe caliph folded up the letter, and sealed it, and giving it to\nNoureddin, without saying any thing of what was in it, Go, said he, and\nembark immediately in a vessel that is ready to go off, (as there did\nconstantly every day at the same hour), and you may sleep when you are\naboard.\n\nNoureddin took the letter, and away he went with the little money he had\nabout him when Sangiar gave him his purse; and the Fair Persian,\ndistracted with grief at his departure, retired by herself to one of the\nsofas, and fell a-weeping bitterly.\n\nNoureddin was scarce gone out of the hall, when Scheich Ibrahim, who had\nbeen silent during the transaction of this affair, looking steadfastly\nupon the caliph, whom he still believed to be a fisherman: Hark you, said\nhe, Kerim, thou hast brought us two fishes that are worth twenty pieces\nof leather or more, and thou hast got a purse and a slave: but dost thou\nthink to have it all for thyself? I here declare that I will go halves\nwith thee in the slave; and as for the purse, show me what is in the\ninside: if it is silver, thou shalt have one piece for thyself; but if it\nis gold, I will have it all, and in exchange, give thee some pieces of\nleather I have in my pocket.\n\n(For the better understanding of what follows, said Scheherazade,\ninterrupting herself here, we must observe to you, that the caliph,\nbefore his serving up the fish, had despatched the grand vizier Giafar to\nhis palace, with orders to get four slaves with a rich habit, and to wait\non the other side of the pavilion till he gave a signal with his finger\nagainst the window. The grand vizier receiving his commission, he,\nMesrour, and the four slaves, waited at the appointed place, expecting\nthe sign).\n\nThe caliph, still personating the fisherman, answered Scheich Ibrahim\nvery boldly, I know not what there is in the purse, gold or silver:\nwhatever it is, you shall freely go my halves; but, as to the slave, I\nwill have her all to myself; and if you will not accept of these\nconditions, you shall have nothing at all.\n\nScheich Ibrahim, enraged to the last degree at this insolence,\nconsidering him only as a fisherman, snatched up one of the china dishes,\nand flung it at the caliph\u2019s head. The caliph easily avoided the blow,\nbeing thrown by a person in drink; but the dish striking against the\nwall, was dashed into a thousand pieces. Scheich Ibrahim having missed\nhis aim, grew more enraged, and catching up the candle that stood upon\nthe table, rose from his seat, and staggering along, went down a back\npair of stairs to look for a cane.\n\nThe caliph made use of this opportunity, and striking his hands against\nthe window, the grand vizier, Mesrour, and the four slaves were with him\nin a trice, who quickly pulled off the fisherman\u2019s clothes, and put on\nhim the habit they had brought. They had not quite dressed the caliph,\n(who had seated himself upon the throne that was in the hall), but they\nwere very busy about him, when Scheich Ibrahim, spurred on by interest,\ncame back, with a swinging cane in his hand, with which he designed to\npay the pretended fisherman soundly; but, instead of finding him, he saw\nhis clothes in the middle of the hall, and the caliph upon his throne,\nwith the grand vizier and Mesrour on each side of him. He stood a while\ngazing upon this unexpected sight, doubting whether he was awake or\nasleep. The caliph fell a-laughing at his astonishment; and, calling to\nhim, Scheich Ibrahim, said he, what dost thou want? whom dost thou look\nafter?\n\nScheich Ibrahim, no longer doubting that it was the caliph, immediately\nthrew himself at his feet, with his face to the ground: Commander of the\ntrue believers, cried he, your vile slave has offended you; but he\nimplores your clemency, and asks a thousand pardons for his offence. As\nsoon as the slaves had made an end of dressing him, he came down from his\nthrone, and advancing towards him, Rise, said he; I forgive thee.\n\nAfterwards the caliph addressed himself to the Fair Persian, who had\nsuspended her sorrow, as soon as she understood that the garden and\npavilion belonged to that prince, and not to Scheich Ibrahim, as he had\nall along made her believe, and that it was he himself disguised in the\nfisherman\u2019s clothes. Fair Persian, said he, rise and follow me: by what\nyou have lately seen, you ought to know who I am, and to believe that I\nam above taking any advantage of Noureddin\u2019s humour, who, with a\ngenerosity not to be paralleled, has made me a present of your person. I\nhave sent him to Balsora to be king there; and when I have despatched\nsome business necessary for his establishment, you shall also go thither\nand be a queen. In the mean time, I am going to order an apartment for\nyou in my palace, where you shall be treated according to your desert.\n\nThis discourse put the Fair Persian in heart again, and comforted her\nafter a very sensible manner. The joy of Noureddin\u2019s advancement, whom\nshe passionately loved, to so high an honour, made her sufficient amends\nfor her affliction. The caliph kept his promise, and recommended her to\nthe care of his lady Zobeide, whom he acquainted with the esteem he had\nlately entertained for Noureddin.\n\nNoureddin\u2019s return to Balsora was more fortunate and speedier by some\ndays than he could have expected. Upon his arrival, without visiting any\nof his friends or relations, he went directly to the palace, where the\nking at that time was giving public audience. He pressed through the\ncrowd with the letter held up in his hand, who presently made way for him\nto come forward and deliver it. The king took and opened it; and his\ncolour changed in reading it: he kissed it thrice, and was just about to\nobey the caliph\u2019s orders, when he bethought himself of showing it to the\nvizier Saouy, Noureddin\u2019s irreconcileable enemy.\n\nSaouy, who had discovered Noureddin, and began to think with himself,\nwith a great deal of uneasiness, what might be the design of his coming,\nwas no less surprised than the king, at the order contained in the\nletter; and being as much concerned in it, he thought upon a way that\nvery moment how to evade it. He pretended not to have read the letter\nquite through, and therefore desired a second view of it; he turned\nhimself a little on one side, as if he wanted a better sight, and without\nbeing perceived by any body, dexterously tore off the set form that\nshowed the caliph would be absolutely obeyed, from the top of it, and\nputting it into his mouth, swallowed it down.\n\nAfter this notorious piece of villany, Saouy turned to the king, and\ngiving him the letter, Sir, said he to him, in a low voice, what does\nyour majesty intend to do? What the caliph has commanded me, replied the\nking. Have a care, sir, said the wicked vizier, what you do: it is true,\nthis is the caliph\u2019s hand; but the set form is not to it. The king had\nobserved that very well, but in the confusion he was in, he thought his\neyes deceived him, when he saw it was gone.\n\nSir, continued the vizier, we have no reason to doubt, but that the\ncaliph upon the complaints he has made against your majesty and me, has\ngranted him this letter purely to get rid of him, not with any intention\nof having the order contained in it executed. Besides, we must consider,\nhe has sent no express with a patent: and without that, the order is of\nno force: and since a king of your majesty\u2019s grandeur was never deposed\nwithout that formality, let who will bring such a letter as this, it\nought not to be put in execution. Your majesty may depend upon what I\nhave said; and how dangerous soever the consequence of disobeying this\norder may be, I will take it all upon myself.\n\nKing Zinchi, easily persuaded by this pernicious counsel, left Noureddin\nentirely to the discretion of the vizier Saouy, who led him to his house\nafter a very insulting manner; where, after causing him to be bastinadoed\ntill he was almost dead, he ordered him to a prison, where he commanded\nhim to be put in the darkest dungeon, with a strict charge to the gaoler\nto give him nothing but bread and water.\n\nWhen Noureddin, sadly bruised with the strokes, came to himself, and\nfound what a nasty dungeon he was in, he bewailed his misfortunes after\nthe most pathetic manner imaginable. Ah! fisherman, cried he, how hast\nthou cheated me; and how easy have I been in believing thee! Could I,\nafter the civility I showed thee, expect so inhuman and barbarous usage!\nHowever, may Heaven reward thee: for I cannot persuade myself, that thy\nintention was so base, and I will with patience wait the end of my\nafflictions.\n\nThe poor disconsolate Noureddin remained six whole days in this miserable\ncondition, and Saouy did not forget that he had confined him there, but\nbeing resolved to put him to a shameful death, and not daring to do it by\nhis own authority, to accomplish his villanous design, he ordered some of\nhis slaves to prepare some very rich presents, which he, at the head of\nthem, went and presented to the king, saying, Behold, sir, what the new\nking hath sent you upon his accession to the crown, and begs your majesty\nto accept of it.\n\nThe king taking the matter just as Saouy intended it, What! replied he,\nis the wretch still living? I thought you had put him to death already.\nSir, I have no power, answered the vizier, to take any person\u2019s life\naway; that only belongs to your majesty. Go, said the king, behead him\ninstantly; I give you full authority. Sir, replied the vizier Saouy, I am\ninfinitely obliged to your majesty for the justice you do me; but, since\nNoureddin has publicly affronted me, I humbly beg the favour that his\nexecution may be performed before the palace, and, that the criers may\npublish it in every quarter of the city, that every body may be satisfied\nthat he has made sufficient reparation for the affront. The king granted\nthe request, and the criers, in performing their office, diffused a\nuniversal sorrow through the whole city. The memory of his father\u2019s\nvirtues being yet fresh among them, there was no one could hear of the\nignominious death the son was going to suffer, through the villany and\ninstigation of the vizier Saouy, without horror and indignation.\n\nSaouy went in person to the prison, accompanied with twenty slaves, his\nministers of cruelty, who took Noureddin out of his dungeon, and put him\non a shabby horse without a saddle. When Noureddin saw himself in the\nhands of his enemy, Thou triumphest now, said he, but thou abusest thy\npower. Yet, I have still some confidence in the truth of what is written\nin one of our books: \u2018You judge unjustly, and in a little time you shall\nbe judged yourself.\u2019 The vizier Saouy, who really triumphed in his heart,\nWhat! insolent, said he, darest thou insult me yet? but go, I pardon\nthee, and care not whatever happens to me, so I have the pleasure of\nseeing thee lose thy head in the public view of all Balsora. Thou\noughtest also to remember what another of our books says: \u2018What signifies\ndying the next day the death of his enemy?\u2019\n\nThe vizier, still implacable and full of malice, surrounded by one part\nof his slaves in arms, ordered Noureddin to be conducted by the other\ntowards the palace. The people were ready to fall upon him as they went\nalong; and, if any body had set them the example, they would certainly\nhave stoned him to death. When he had brought him to the place of\nsuffering, which was in sight of the king\u2019s apartment, he left him in the\nexecutioner\u2019s hands, and went straight to the king, who was in his closet\nready to glut his eyes with the bloody spectacle he had prepared.\n\nThe king\u2019s guard and the vizier\u2019s slaves, who made a circle round\nNoureddin, had much ado to withstand the people, who made all the efforts\npossible, but in vain, to break through them and carry him off by force.\nThe executioner coming up to him, Sir, said he, I hope you will forgive\nme; I am but a slave, and cannot help doing my duty. If you have no\noccasion for any thing, I beseech you prepare yourself, for the king is\njust going to give me orders to strike the blow.\n\nThe poor unfortunate Noureddin, at that cruel moment, looked round upon\nthe people: Will no charitable body, cried he, bring me a little water to\nquench my thirst? which immediately they did, and handed it up to him\nupon the scaffold. The vizier Saouy, perceiving this delay, called out to\nthe executioner from the king\u2019s closet window, where he had planted\nhimself, Strike, what dost thou stay for? At these barbarous and inhuman\nwords the whole palace echoed with loud imprecations against him; and the\nking, jealous of his authority, made it appear, by ordering him to stay a\nwhile, that he was angry at his presumption. But there was another\nreason; for the king that very moment casting his eyes up into a large\nstreet that faced him and joined to the place of execution, saw about the\nmiddle of it a troop of horsemen coming with full speed towards the\npalace. Vizier, said the king immediately, look yonder, what is the\nmeaning of those horsemen? Saouy, who knew not what it might be,\nearnestly pressed the king to give the executioner the sign. No, replied\nthe king, I will first see who these horsemen are. It was the vizier\nGiafar and his train, who came in person from Bagdad by the caliph\u2019s\norder.\n\nTo make the occasion of this minister\u2019s coming to Balsora a little\nplainer, we must observe, that after Noureddin\u2019s departure with the\ncaliph\u2019s letter, the caliph the next day, nor several days after, ever\nthought of sending the patent that he mentioned to the Fair Persian. He\nhappened one day to be in the inner palace, which was the women\u2019s, and\npassing by the apartment, he heard the sound of a fine voice: he listened\nto it, and he had no sooner heard the words of one complaining for the\nabsence of somebody, than he asked the officer of his eunuchs that\nattended him, who that woman was that belonged to that apartment. The\nofficer told him that it was the young stranger\u2019s slave, whom he had sent\nto Balsora to be king in the room of Mohammed Zinchi.\n\nAh! poor Noureddin, cried the caliph presently, I had forgot thee; but\nhaste, said he to the officer, and bid Giafar come to me. The vizier was\nwith him in an instant. As soon as he came, Giafar, said he, I have\nhitherto neglected sending the patent to Noureddin, which was to confirm\nhim king of Balsora; but we have no time now to draw up one, therefore\nimmediately take post-horses, and, with some of your servants, make what\nhaste you can to Balsora. If Noureddin is dead, and put to death by them,\norder the vizier Saouy to be hanged; but, if he be living, bring him to\nme with the king and the vizier.\n\nThe grand vizier staid no longer than just the time of getting on\nhorseback, and being attended by a great train of officers belonging to\nhis house, he set forward for Balsora, where he arrived after the manner,\nand at the time above mentioned. As soon as he came to the palace-yard\nthe people cleared the way for him, crying out, A pardon for Noureddin!\nand with his whole train he rode into the palace, even to the very\nstairs, where he alighted.\n\nThe king of Balsora knowing him to be the caliph\u2019s chief minister, went\nto meet him, and received him at the entrance of his apartment. The first\nquestion the vizier asked was, if Noureddin was living; and, if he was,\nthat he might be sent for. The king made answer, He was alive, and gave\norders to have him brought in. Accordingly he soon made his appearance as\nhe was, tied, and bound with cords. The grand vizier Giafar caused him to\nbe untied, and setting him at liberty, ordered the vizier Saouy to be\nseized, and bound with the same cords.\n\nThe grand vizier Giafar lay but one night in Balsora. The next day he set\nout again for Bagdad; and, according to the order he had received,\ncarried Saouy, the king of Balsora, and Noureddin along with him. As soon\nas he came to Bagdad, he presented them all to the caliph; and after he\nhad given him an account of his journey, and particularly of the\nmiserable condition he found Noureddin in, and that all his ill usage was\npurely by the advice and malice of Saouy, the caliph desired Noureddin to\nbehead the vizier himself. Commander of the true believers, said\nNoureddin, notwithstanding the injury this wicked man has done me, and\nthe mischief he endeavoured to do my deceased father, I should think\nmyself the basest of mankind if I had stained my hands with his blood.\nThe caliph was extremely pleased with his generosity, and ordered justice\nto be done by the executioner\u2019s hand.\n\nThe caliph would fain have sent Noureddin back to Balsora to have been\nking there; but Noureddin humbly begged to be excused from accepting the\noffer, saying, Commander of the true believers, the city of Balsora,\nafter the misfortunes that have happened to me there, is so much my\naversion, and will always continue to be so, that I beseech your majesty\nto give me leave to keep the oath I have made of never returning thither\nagain: and I shall think it my greatest glory to do you some services\nnear your royal person, if you are pleased to do me the honour. The\ncaliph consented to it; and placing him among the number of those\ncourtiers who were his greatest favourites, restored the Fair Persian to\nhim again. To all these favours he added a plentiful fortune; and he and\nthe Fair Persian lived together to their dying day, with all the\nsatisfaction they could both desire.\n\nAs for the king of Balsora, the caliph contented himself with only\nletting him see how careful he ought to be in the choice of his viziers,\nand so sent him back into his kingdom.\n\n\n\n\n THE STORY OF\n BEDER, PRINCE OF PERSIA, AND GIAHAURE, PRINCESS OF SAMARCAND.\n\n\nPersia is a country of so vast extent, that their ancient monarchs have,\nnot without some colour of reason, assumed the haughty title of king of\nkings. For, not to mention those nations subdued by their arms, there are\nwhole kingdoms and provinces whose kings are not only tributary, but also\nin as great subjection to them as petty governors in other nations are to\nkings.\n\nSome ages ago one of these kings, who, in the beginning of his reign, had\nsignalized himself by many glorious and successful conquests, enjoyed so\nprofound and lasting a peace and tranquillity as rendered him the\nhappiest of monarchs. The only thing in which he could be termed\nunfortunate was, that amongst all his mistresses not one of them ever\nbrought him a son; and being now far advanced in years, he was desirous\nof an heir to succeed him after his death. However, he had above a\nhundred ladies all lodged in separate apartments, after a magnificent\nmanner, with women slaves and eunuchs to wait upon and take care of them.\nYet, notwithstanding all his endeavours to please and humour them in\nevery thing, there was not one that answered his expectation. He had\nwomen very often brought him from the most remote countries, and if they\npleased him, he not only gave the merchants their full price at the first\nword, but treated them with all respect and civility imaginable, and by\nconsiderable presents obliged them still to bring others, flattering\nhimself, that at last he might be so happy as to meet with one by whom he\nmight have a son. There was scarce any act of charity but what he\nperformed, fancying by that means to prevail with Heaven. He gave immense\nsums to the poor, besides large donatives to the religious of his own\npersuasion, building for their use many noble colleges richly endowed, in\nhopes of obtaining by their prayers what he earnestly desired.\n\nOne day, according to the custom of his royal predecessors, during their\nresidence in the capital city, he gave his mistresses a ball, at which\nall the ambassadors and strangers of quality about the court were\npresent; and where they not only entertained one another with talking of\nnews and politics, but also of learning, history, poetry, and whatever\nelse was capable of diverting the understanding after the most agreeable\nmanner. It was upon that day that an eunuch came to acquaint him with the\narrival of a certain merchant from a far country, who, having brought a\nslave along with him, desired leave to show her to his majesty. Give him\nadmittance instantly, says the king, and after the ball is done I will\ntalk with him: the merchant was introduced, and seated in a convenient\nplace, from whence he might easily have a full view of the king, and hear\nhim talk with abundance of familiarity to those that stood near his\nperson. The king was extremely civil in his conversation with strangers,\nwith a design, that by degrees they might grow acquainted with him; so\nthat when they saw with what freedom and civility he addressed himself to\nthe whole assembly, they took courage and began to discourse with him\nalso, without being the least surprised at the dazzling pomp and\nsplendour of his appearance, which was enough to deprive those of their\npower of speech that were not used to such glorious sights. He treated\nthe ambassadors also after the same manner: first he ate with them, and\nduring the repast, he asked them several questions concerning their\nhealth, of their voyage, and the affairs of their country; and, after\nthey had been encouraged by his generous entertainment, he gave them\naudience.\n\nWhen the ball was over, all the company retired; the merchant, who was\nthe only person left, fell prostrate before the king\u2019s throne with his\nface to the earth, wishing his majesty an accomplishment of all his\ndesires. As soon as he rose up, the king asked him if the news of his\nhaving brought a slave for him was true, and whether she was handsome.\n\nSir, replied the merchant, I doubt not in the least but your majesty has\nvery beautiful women, since you search every corner of the earth for\nthem; but I may boldly affirm, without overvaluing my merchandise, that\nyou never saw a woman that could stand in competition with her for shape\nand beauty, besides a thousand other agreeable qualifications that she is\nmistress of. Where is she? says the king; bring her to me instantly. Sir,\nreplied the merchant, I have delivered her into the hands of one of your\nchief eunuchs, and your majesty may send for her at your pleasure.\n\nThe fair slave was immediately brought in, and no sooner had the king\ncast his eyes on her, than the genteelness of her mien and shape charmed\nhim. He went presently into his closet, whither the merchant, with a few\neunuchs, followed him. The slave wore a red satin veil, striped with\ngold, over her face; and when the merchant had taken it off, the king of\nPersia beheld a lady that surpassed in beauty, not only his present\nmistresses, but even all that ever he had before; in short, he\nimmediately fell passionately in love with her, and bade the merchant\nname his price.\n\nSir, said he, I gave a thousand pieces of gold to the persons of whom I\nbought her, and in my three years\u2019 journey to your court, I have spent as\nmuch: but I shall forbear setting any price to so great a monarch; and,\ntherefore, if your majesty likes her, I humbly beg you would accept of\nher as a present. I am highly obliged to you, replied the king; but it is\nnever my custom to treat merchants, who come hither purely for my\npleasure, after so ungenerous a manner. I am going to order thee ten\nthousand pieces of gold; therefore speak, whether thou art pleased with\nthat sum or not. Sir, answered the merchant, though I should have\nesteemed myself very happy in your majesty\u2019s acceptance of her for\nnothing, yet I dare not refuse so generous an offer. I shall take care to\npublish it, not only in my own country, but also in every place through\nwhich I pass. The money was presently paid him; and, before he stirred\nout of his presence, the king made him put on a rich suit of cloth of\ngold.\n\nThe king caused the fair slave to be lodged in the finest apartment next\nhis own, and gave particular orders to the matrons and to the women\nslaves appointed to attend her, that after bathing they should dress her\nin the richest clothes the kingdom afforded. He also commanded them to\ncarry her some pearl-necklaces, with abundance of diamonds, and other\nprecious stones, that she might have the liberty of choosing those she\nliked best.\n\nThe officious matrons, whose only care it was to please the king, were\nastonished with admiration at her beauty; and being well skilled in that\naffair, they told his majesty, that, if he would allow them but three\ndays, they would engage to make her so much handsomer than she was at\npresent, that he should scarce know her again. The king at first was very\nloath to defer the pleasure of enjoyment so long; but at last he\nconsented, upon condition they would be as good as their word.\n\nThe king of Persia\u2019s capital was situated in an island, and his palace,\nwhich was very magnificent, was built upon the sea-shore: his apartment\nlooked upon that element; and the fair slave\u2019s, which was pretty near it,\nhad also the same prospect; and it was the more agreeable upon the\naccount of the sea beating almost against the foot of the wall.\n\nAt the three days\u2019 end, the fair slave, gloriously dressed and set off,\nwas alone in her chamber, sitting upon a sofa, and leaning against one of\nthe windows that faced the sea, when the king, being informed that he\nmight visit her, came in. The slave hearing somebody walk in the room,\nwith an air quite different from that of the women slaves who had\nhitherto attended her, immediately turned her head about to see who it\nwas. She knew him to be the king; but without discovering the least\nsurprise, or so much as rising from her seat to salute or receive him, as\nif he had been the meanest person in the world, she put herself in the\nsame posture again.\n\nThe king of Persia was extremely surprised to see a slave of so beauteous\na form so ignorant of the world. He attributed this piece of ill breeding\nto the narrowness of her education, and the little care that was taken of\ninstructing her at first in the rules of civility and good manners. He\nwent to her at the window, where, notwithstanding the coldness and\nindifferency with which she had just now received him, she suffered\nherself to be admired, caressed, and embraced, as much as he pleased.\n\nIn the midst of these amorous embraces and tender endearments, this\nmonarch paused a while to gaze upon, or rather to devour her with his\neyes: My goddess! my angel! my charmer! cried the king; whence came you?\nand where do those happy parents live that brought into the world so\nsurprising a masterpiece of nature as you are? Ah! how I adore you! and\nmy passion shall continue the same. Never did I feel for a woman what I\nnow suffer for you: and though I have seen, and do see every day, a vast\nnumber of beauties, yet never did my eyes behold so many charms in one\nsingle person, which have so transported me out of myself, that I am no\nlonger at my own, but entirely at your disposal. My dearest life,\ncontinued he, you neither answer me, nor by any visible token give me the\nleast reason to believe that you are sensible of the many demonstrations\nI have given you of the violence of my passion; neither will you turn\nyour eyes on me, to afford mine the pleasure of meeting them with an\namorous glance, and to convince you that it is impossible to love more\nthan I do you. Why will you still keep this obstinate silence, which\nfreezes me to death? and whence proceeds the seriousness, or rather\nsorrow, that torments me to the soul? Do you mourn for your country, your\nfriends, or your relations? Alas! is not the king of Persia, who loves\nand adores you, capable of comforting and making you amends for the loss\nof every thing in the world?\n\nWhat protestations of love soever the king of Persia made the fair slave\nto oblige her to speak to him, she continued her astonishing\nreservedness, and keeping her eyes still fixed on the ground, would not\nso much as open her lips.\n\nThe king of Persia, charmed with the purchase he had made of a slave that\npleased him so well, pressed her no farther, in hopes that, by treating\nher civilly, he might prevail upon her to change her mind. He presently\ngave the usual sign to the women that waited in an outward room; and as\nsoon as they entered, he commanded them to bring in supper. When it was\non the table, My dear, said he to the slave, come hither and sup with me.\nShe rose up from her seat, and being placed over against the king, his\nmajesty helped her before he began eating himself; and so he did of every\ndish during the whole supper. The slave ate with downcast eyes, and\nwithout speaking one word, though he often asked her how she liked the\nentertainment, and whether it was dressed to her taste.\n\nThe king, willing to change the discourse, asked her what her name was,\nhow she liked the clothes and the jewels she had on, what she thought of\nher apartment and the rich furniture, and whether the prospect of the sea\nwas not very agreeable and charming. But to all these questions she\nanswered not a word; so that the king was at a loss what to think of her\nsilence. He imagined at first, that perhaps she might be dumb: But then,\nsaid he to himself, can it be possible that Heaven should form a creature\nso beautiful, so perfect, and so accomplished, and yet at the same time\nwith so great an imperfection? However, I cannot love with less passion\nthan I do.\n\nWhen the king of Persia rose from the table, he washed his hands on one\nside, while the fair slave washed hers on the other. He took that time to\nask the women that held the basin and the towel, if ever they had heard\nher speak. One of them presently made answer, Sir, we have neither seen\nher open her lips, nor heard her speak, any more than your majesty has\njust now: we have taken care of her in the bath, we have combed and\ndressed her head, put on her clothes, and waited upon her in her chamber;\nbut she has never opened her lips, so much as to say, That is well, or, I\nlike this. We have often asked her, Madam, do you want any thing? let us\nknow what you would have; do but ask, and we are ready to get it for you:\nbut we have never been able to draw a word from her; so that we cannot\ntell whether her silence proceeds from pride, sorrow, stupidity, or\ndumbness; and this is all we can inform your majesty.\n\nThe king of Persia was more astonished at hearing this than he was\nbefore: however, believing the slave might have some reason for her\nsorrow, he was willing to endeavour to divert it, and make her merry.\nAccordingly, he made a very splendid ball, to which all the fine ladies\nof the court came, and those who were skilful in playing upon musical\ninstruments showed their parts, while others sang or danced, or did both\ntogether: in short, they played at a great many sorts of games, which\nmightily diverted the king. The fair slave was the only person that took\nno pleasure in those diversions: she never stirred out of her place, but\nwith her eyes still fixed on the ground, without taking any notice of the\nentertainment, behaved herself with so much indifferency that all the\nladies were no less surprised at it than the king. After the ball was\ndone, every one retired to her apartment; and the king, who was left\nalone with the fair slave, lay with her that night.\n\nThe next morning, the king of Persia arose more pleased than he had been\nwith all the women he had ever seen, and more enamoured with the fair\nslave than he was before. Indeed, he soon made it appear, by resolving\nhenceforth to keep constant to her; and he performed his resolution. On\nthe very same day he dismissed all his other women, giving every one of\nthem their jewels and other valuable things, besides a considerable\nfortune, with free leave to marry whom they thought fit, and only kept\nthe matrons, and a few other old women, to wait upon and attend the fair\nslave. However, for a whole year together, she never afforded him the\npleasure of one single word; yet the king took abundance of pains to\nplease her, and, with all complaisance imaginable, to give her the most\nsignal proofs of his violent passion.\n\nThe year was now expired, when the king, sitting one day by his mistress,\nprotested to her that his love, instead of being diminished, grew every\nday more violent: My queen, said he, I cannot conceive what your thoughts\nare; but, however, nothing is more true, and I swear to you the same,\nthat in having the happiness of possessing you, there remains nothing for\nme to desire: I esteem my kingdom, great as it is, less than an atom,\nwhen I have the pleasure of beholding your eyes, and of telling you a\nthousand times how I adore you. You see I have given you some other\nproofs of my affection than bare words; and therefore surely you can\nnever doubt of it, after the vast number of women I have sacrificed to\nyour beauty. You may remember, it is about a year since I sent them away\nfrom my court; and I repent of it as little even now I am talking with\nyou, as I did the first moment of their departure, and I believe I never\nshall. Nothing would be wanting to complete my happiness, and crown my\njoys for ever, would you speak but one single word to me, by which I\nmight be assured that you thought yourself in some measure obliged to me.\nBut how can you speak to me if you are dumb? and alas! how fearful I am\nlest it should be true! yet what reason have I to doubt of it, since you\nstill torment me with silence, after a whole year\u2019s entreating you every\nhour to speak to me! However, if it is impossible for me to obtain that\nconsolation, may Heaven, at least, grant me the blessing of a son by you\nto succeed me after my death. I find myself growing old every day, and I\nbegin to want one to assist me in bearing the weight of a crown. But\nstill I cannot refrain from the desire I have of hearing you speak; for\nmethinks something within me tells me you are not dumb; and, therefore,\ndear madam, I beseech, I conjure you, to break through this obstinate\nhumour, and speak but one word to me; and after that, I care not how soon\nI die.\n\nAt this discourse, the fair slave, who, according to her usual custom,\nhad hearkened to the king with downcast eyes, and had given him cause to\nbelieve, not only that she was dumb, but that she never had laughed in\nher life, began to look up and smile a little. The king of Persia\nperceived it with a surprise that made him break forth into an\nexclamation of joy; and no longer doubting but that she was going to\nspeak, he waited for that happy moment with an eagerness and attention\nthat cannot be easily expressed.\n\nAt last, the fair slave, breaking her long silence, thus addressed\nherself to the king: Sir, said she, I have so many things to say to your\nmajesty, that, having once broke silence, I know not where to begin.\nHowever, in the first place, I think myself obliged in duty to thank your\nmajesty for all the favours and honours you have been pleased to confer\nupon me, and to implore the gods to bless and prosper you, to prevent the\nwicked designs and intentions of your enemies, and that they would not\nsuffer you to die after hearing me speak, but grant you a long and happy\nreign. After this, sir, I cannot give you a greater satisfaction than\nacquainting you with my being with child; and I wish, as you do, it may\nbe a son. Had it never been my fortune to have been breeding, I was\nresolved (I beg your majesty to pardon the sincerity of my intention)\nnever to have loved you, as well as to have kept an eternal silence; but\nnow I love and respect you as I ought to do.\n\nThe king of Persia, ravished to hear the fair slave not only speak, but\nat the same time tell him news in which he was so nearly concerned,\nembraced her tenderly: Shining light of my eyes, said he, it is\nimpossible for me to receive a greater joy than what you have now given\nme: you have spoken to me, and declared your being with child; so that I\nam fully satisfied in myself, that after these two signal occasions of\njoy, I ought to expect no other.\n\nThe king of Persia, in the transport of joy he was in, said no more to\nthe fair slave. He left her; but after such a manner as made her perceive\nhis intention was speedily to return; and being willing that the occasion\nof his joy should be made public, he declared it to his officers, and\nsent in all haste for the grand vizier. As soon as he came, he ordered\nhim to distribute a thousand pieces of gold among the holy men of his\nreligion, who had made vows of poverty; as also among the hospitals and\nthe poor, by way of returning thanks to Heaven; and his will was obeyed,\nby the direction of that minister.\n\nAfter the king of Persia had given this order, he came to the fair slave\nagain: Madam, said he, pardon me for leaving you so abruptly, since you\nhave been the occasion of it; but I hope you will entertain me some other\ntime, since I am desirous to know of you several things of a much greater\nconsequence. However, in the mean time, tell me, I beseech you, my\ndearest charmer, what were the powerful reasons that induced you to\npersist in that obstinate silence for a whole year together, though every\nday you saw me, heard me talk to you, ate and drank with me, and every\nnight lay with me? I shall pass by your not speaking; but how you could\ncarry yourself after such an indifferent manner, that I could never\ndiscover whether you were sensible of what I said to you, or no, I must\nconfess it surpasses my understanding: and I cannot yet comprehend, how\nyou could contain yourself so long: therefore I must conclude the\noccasion of it to be very extraordinary.\n\nTo satisfy the king of Persia\u2019s curiosity, this fair person replied,\nThink whether or no to be a slave, far from my own country, without any\nhopes of ever seeing it again, to have a heart torn with grief, for being\nseparated from my mother, my brother, my friends, and my acquaintance,\nare not sufficient reasons for my keeping a silence your majesty has\nthought so strange and unaccountable. The love of our native country is\nas natural to us as that of our parents; and the loss of liberty is\nunsupportable to every one, who is not wholly destitute of sense and\nreason, and knows how to set a value on it. The body indeed may be\nenslaved, and under the subjection of a master who has the power and\nauthority in his hands; but the will can never be conquered or domineered\nover, but still remains free and unconfined, depending on itself alone,\nand your majesty has found an example of it in me; and it is a wonder\nthat I have not followed the example of abundance of unfortunate\nwretches, whom the loss of liberty has reduced to the mournful resolution\nof procuring their own deaths a thousand ways, rather than survive it,\nand wear out a wretched life in shameful slavery.\n\nMadam, replied the king, I am now convinced of the truth of what you say;\nbut till this moment I was of opinion, that a person beautiful,\nwell-shaped, with a great deal of wit and good sense, such as yourself,\nwhom her rigorous stars had destined to be a slave, ought to think\nherself very happy in meeting with a king for her master.\n\nSir, replied the fair slave, whatever the slave is, supposing her to be\nsuch as I have already mentioned to your majesty, there is no king on\nearth can tyrannize over her will. But, however, when you speak of a\nslave, mistress of charms enough to captivate a monarch, and make him\nadore her, provided she is of a rank infinitely below him, I am of your\nopinion she ought to think herself happy in her misfortune; but what\nhappiness can it be when she considers herself only as a slave, torn from\nher parents\u2019 arms, and perhaps a lover\u2019s, for whom she has a passion that\ndeath only can extinguish? But when this very slave is nothing inferior\nto the king that bought her, your majesty shall then judge yourself of\nthe rigour of her destiny, of her misery, and of her sorrow, and to what\ndesperate attempts the anguish of despair may drive her.\n\nThe king of Persia, astonished at this discourse, said, Madam, can it be\npossible that you are of royal blood, as by your words you seem to\nintimate? Explain the whole secret to me, I beseech you, and no longer\naugment my impatience. Ah! let me instantly know who are the happy\nparents of so great a prodigy of beauty, who are your brothers, your\nsisters, and your relations; but above all, what your name is.\n\nSir, said the fair slave, my name is Gulnare of the sea; and my father,\nwho is now dead, was one of the most potent monarchs of the ocean. When\nhe died, he left his kingdom to a brother of mine, named Saleh, and to\nthe queen my mother, who is also a princess, the daughter of another\npuissant monarch of the sea. We enjoyed a profound peace and tranquillity\nthrough the whole kingdom, till a neighbouring prince, an enemy to our\nrepose, invaded our dominions with a mighty army; and, penetrating as far\nas our capital, made himself master of it: and we had but just time\nenough to save ourselves in a steep inaccessible place, with a few trusty\nofficers, who were so generous as not to forsake us in our distress.\n\nIn this retreat, my brother was not negligent in contriving all manner of\nways to drive the unjust invader from our dominions. While this affair\nwas in agitation, one day taking me into his closet, Sister, said he, the\nevents of the least undertakings in this world are always dubious. As,\nfor my own part, I am willing to die in the attempt I design to make to\nre-establish myself in my kingdom; and I shall be less concerned for my\nown disgrace, than for what may possibly happen to you; and therefore to\nprevent it, and to secure you from whatever accident may befall you, I\nwould fain see you married first. But in the miserable condition that our\naffairs are at present, I see no probability of matching you to any of\nthe princes of the sea; and therefore I should be very glad if you would\nresolve to be of my opinion, and think of marrying to some of the princes\nof the earth. I am ready to contribute all that lies in my power towards\nit, and I am certain there is not one of them, considering the beauty you\nare mistress of, but would be proud of your accepting of their crown.\n\nAt this discourse of my brother\u2019s, I fell into a violent passion.\nBrother, said I, you know that I am descended, as well as you, by both\nfather and mother\u2019s sides, from the kings and queens of the sea, without\nany mixture of alliance with those of the earth; therefore I do not\ndesign to marry below myself, any more than they did: and I took an oath\nof it, as soon as I had understanding to inquire into the nobleness and\nantiquity of our family. The condition to which we are reduced shall\nnever oblige me to alter my resolution; and if you perish in the\nexecution of your design, I am prepared to fall with you, rather than\nfollow the advice I so little expected from you.\n\nMy brother, who was still earnest for the marriage, endeavoured to make\nme believe that there were kings of the earth who were no ways inferior\nto those of the sea. This put me again into a violent passion, which\noccasioned him to speak several bitter reflecting things that nettled me\nto the quick. At last he left me, as much dissatisfied with myself as he\ncould possibly be; and in this peevish mood, I gave a spring from the\nbottom of the sea, directly up to the island of the moon.\n\nNotwithstanding the violent discontent that made me cast myself upon that\nisland, I lived pretty easy in a by-corner of it, where I retired for\nconveniency and safety. But, alas! this happiness lasted not long; for,\nin spite of all my endeavours to lie concealed in my beloved obscurity, a\ncertain person of distinction and figure, attended by his servants,\nsurprised me sleeping, and carried me to his own house. He made violent\nlove to me, and omitted nothing which he thought might reasonably induce\nme to make a return to his passion. When he saw that fair means would\nprevail nothing upon me, he attempted to make use of force; but I soon\nmade him repent of his insolence. So at last, finding that there was\nnothing to be done with me, he resolved to part with me, which he did to\nthat very merchant who brought me hither and sold me to your majesty. He\nwas a very prudent, courteous, obliging person; and during the whole\njourney, which was somewhat tedious, he never gave me the least reason to\ncomplain of his usage.\n\nAs for your majesty, sir, continued the princess Gulnare, if you had not\nshown me all the respect you have hitherto paid (for which I am extremely\nobliged to your goodness) and given me such undeniable marks of your\naffection, that I could no longer doubt of it; if you had not immediately\nsent away your women; give me leave to tell you plainly, sir, that I was\npositively resolved not to have lived with you: I would have thrown\nmyself into the sea, out of this very window, where your majesty first\nsaw me when you came into this apartment; and I would have gone in search\nafter my mother, my brother, and the rest of my relations. I still\npersisted in that design, and I would infallibly have put it in\nexecution, if, after a certain time, I had found myself deceived in the\nhopes of being with child: but now, in the condition I am in, I shall\ntake care what I do. Should I tell my mother or my brother that I have\nbeen a slave, even to a king as mighty as you are, they would never\nbelieve it, but would for ever upbraid me with the crime I have committed\nagainst my honour, since it was a voluntary act of my own. However, sir,\nbe it a prince or a princess that I bring into the world, it will be a\npledge to engage me never to be parted from your majesty; and therefore I\nhope you will no longer look upon me as a slave, but as a princess worthy\nof your alliance.\n\nIt was after this manner that the princess Gulnare finished her story she\nhad been telling the king of Persia. My charming and adorable princess,\ncried he, what wonders have I heard! and what an ample subject have you\nafforded my curiosity, of asking a thousand questions concerning those\nstrange and unheard-of things which you have related to me! But, in the\nfirst place, I ought to thank you for your goodness and patience in\nmaking a trial of the truth and constancy of my passion. I must confess,\nI thought it impossible for me to love you more than I did; but since I\nknow you to be so great a princess, I love you a thousand times more.\nWhat! did I say princess? Madam, you are no longer so; but you are my\nqueen, the queen of Persia; and by that title you shall soon be\nproclaimed throughout the whole kingdom. Tomorrow the ceremony shall be\nperformed in my capital, with a pomp and magnificence that was never yet\nbeheld; which will plainly show, that you are both my queen and lawful\nwife. This should have been done long ago, had you sooner convinced me of\nmy error; for, from the first moment of my seeing you, I have been of the\nsame opinion as now, to love you for ever, and never to place my\naffection on any other.\n\nHowever, I am pleased with myself for having, in the mean time, paid you\nall the respect and civility I ought, that is due to your merit; and\ntherefore, madam, I beseech you to inform me in a more particular manner,\nof the kingdoms and people of the sea, which are altogether unknown to\nme. I have heard much talk indeed of the inhabitants of the sea; but I\nalways looked upon it as nothing but a pleasant tale or fable: however,\nby what you have told me, I am convinced there is nothing more true; and\nI have a very good proof of it in your own person, who are one of them,\nand are pleased to condescend to be my wife; which is an honour no other\ninhabitant on the earth can boast of besides myself. There is one thing\nyet, madam, which puzzles me a little, therefore I must beg the favour of\nyou to explain it; that is, I cannot comprehend how it is possible for\nyou to move, breathe, and walk up and down in the water, without being\ndrowned. There are but few amongst us who have the art of staying under\nwater; but they would surely perish there, if after a certain space of\ntime, which is according to their skill, and constitution of their\nbodies, they did not come up again.\n\nSir, replied the queen Gulnare, I shall take a great deal of pleasure in\nsatisfying the king of Persia in any thing that lies in my power. You\nmust know, then, that we can walk at the bottom of the sea with as much\nease as you can upon the dry land; and can breathe in the water as well\nas you do in the air; so that instead of suffocating us, as it does you,\nit is absolutely necessary for the preservation of our lives. What is yet\nmore remarkable is, that it never wets our clothes: so that when we have\na mind to visit your upper world, we have no occasion of drying them. Our\nvulgar language is the same in which the writing upon the seal of the\ngreat prophet Solomon, the son of David, was engraven.\n\nI must not forget to tell you, that the water does not in the least\nhinder us from seeing in the sea; for we can open and shut our eyes when\nwe please, without any manner of inconveniency; and as we have generally\na very quick, piercing sight, so we can discern any object as clearly in\nthe deepest part of the sea, as upon land. We have also a succession\nthere of day and night; the moon affords us her light, and even the\nplanets and the stars appear very visible to us. I have already spoken of\ntheir kingdoms; but as the sea is a great deal larger than the earth, so\nthere are a greater number of them, and of vaster extent. They are\ndivided into provinces, and in every province there are several great\ncities, well peopled; and, in short, there are an infinite number of\nnations, differing in manners and customs, as well as upon the earth.\n\nThe palaces of the kings and princes are very sumptuous and magnificent.\nThere are some of them of marble of various colours; others of\nrock-crystal, mother-of-pearl, coral, and of other materials more\nvaluable; gold, silver, and all sorts of precious stones, are more\nplentiful there than with you. I say nothing of the pearls, since the\nlargest that ever was seen upon the earth would not be valuable amongst\nus; and none but the very lowest rank of citizens would wear them.\n\nAs we have a marvellous and almost incredible agility of transporting\nourselves whither we please in the twinkling of an eye, so we have no\noccasion for any coaches or horses: not but that every king has his\nstables, and his breed of sea-horses; but they seldom make use of them,\nbut upon public feasts and rejoicing days. After they have been well\nmanaged, they set riders upon their backs, who show their skill and\ndexterity in the art of riding: others are put to chariots of\nmother-of-pearl, adorned with an infinite number of shells of all sorts,\nof the liveliest colours in the world. These chariots are open; and in\nthe middle there is a throne on which the king sits, and exposes himself\nto the public view of his subjects. The horses are trained up to draw by\nthemselves, so that there is no occasion for a coachman to guide them. I\npass over a thousand other particulars relating to these sea-countries,\nfull of wonder and curiosity, which would be very entertaining to your\nmajesty; but I believe, sir, you will be pleased I should defer it, to\nspeak of something of much greater consequence; which is, that the method\nof delivering, and the way of managing the women of the sea in their\nlying-in, is quite different from those of the women of the earth; and I\nam afraid to trust myself in the hands of the midwives of this country.\nTherefore, sir, since my safe delivery is a thing which equally concerns\nus both, with your majesty\u2019s permission, I think it proper to send for my\nmother and my cousins to assist at my labour; at the same time to desire\nmy brother\u2019s company, to whom I have a great desire to be reconciled.\nThey will be very glad to see me again, after I have related my story to\nthem, and when they understand that I am wife to the mighty king of\nPersia. I beseech your majesty to give me leave to send for them: I am\nsure they will be proud to pay their respects to you; and I dare say you\nwill be extremely pleased to see them.\n\nMadam, said the king of Persia, you are mistress, and so do whatever you\nplease; I will endeavour to receive them with all the honours they\ndeserve. But I would fain know how you would acquaint them with what you\ndesire, and when they will arrive; that I may make some preparation for\ntheir reception, and go myself in person to meet them.\n\nSir, replied the queen Gulnare, there is no need of any of these\nceremonies; they will be here in a moment: and if your majesty will be\npleased but to step into the closet and look through the lattice, you\nshall see the manner of their arrival.\n\nAs soon as the king of Persia was gone into the closet, the queen Gulnare\nordered one of her women to bring her a perfuming-pan, with a little fire\nin it. After that, she bade her retire, and shut the door. When she was\nalone, she took a little piece of aloes out of a box, and put it into the\nperfuming-pan. As soon as she saw the smoke arise, she repeated some\nmystical words, utterly unknown to the king of Persia, who observed with\ngreat attention what she was doing. She had no sooner ended her charm,\nthan the sea began to be disturbed. The closet that the king was in was\nso contrived, that looking through the lattice, on the same side with the\nwindows that faced the sea, he could plainly perceive it.\n\nIn short, the sea opened at some distance; presently there appeared a\ntall handsome young man, with whiskers of a sea-green colour; a little\nbehind him, a lady well in years, but of a stately majestic air, attended\nby five young ladies, nothing inferior in beauty to queen Gulnare.\n\nThe queen Gulnare immediately came to one of the windows, and saw the\nking her brother, the queen her mother, and the rest of her relations,\nwho at the same time perceived her also. The company came forward, not\nwalking, but carried, as it were, upon the surface of the waves. When\nthey came to the brink of the sea, they nimbly, one after another, leaped\nin at the window, from whence the queen Gulnare was retired, to make room\nfor them. The king Saleh, the queen her mother, and the rest of her\nrelations, embraced her tenderly, with tears in their eyes, upon their\nfirst entrance.\n\nAfter the queen Gulnare had received them with all the honour imaginable,\nand placed them upon a sofa, the queen her mother addressed herself to\nher after a very tender manner. Daughter, said she, I am overjoyed to see\nyou again, after so long an absence; and I am confident that your brother\nand your relations are no less so than I. Your leaving us, without\nacquainting any body with it, put us into an inexpressible concern; and\nit is impossible to tell you how many tears we have shed upon that\naccount. We know of no other reason that could induce you to take such a\nsurprising resolution, but the discourse that passed between your brother\nand you, of which he afterwards informed me. The advice he gave you\nseemed very advantageous to him at that time, for settling you handsomely\nin the world; and was then very suitable to the posture of our affairs.\nHowever, if you had not approved of his proposals, you ought not to have\nbeen so much alarmed; and give me leave to tell you, you took the thing\nquite otherwise than you ought to have done. But no more of this\ndiscourse, which serves only to renew the occasion of our sorrows and\ncomplaints, that we and you ought to bury for ever in oblivion. Give us\nnow a relation of all that has happened to you since you left us, and\nalso an account of the present circumstances you are in; but especially\nlet us know if you are pleased and contented.\n\nThe queen Gulnare immediately threw herself at her mother\u2019s feet, and\nafter rising up and kissing her hand, said, Madam, I own I have been\nguilty of a very great crime, and I shall be indebted to your goodness\nfor the pardon which I hope you will be pleased to grant me. What I am\ngoing to say, in obedience to your commands, will soon convince you, that\nit is very often in vain for us to have an aversion for some certain\nthings: I have experienced it myself; and the only thing I had an\nabhorrence to, either justly, or by the malice of my stars, has happened\nto me here. She began to relate the whole story of what had befallen her\nsince her quitting the sea, in a violent passion, for the earth. As soon\nas she had made an end, and had acquainted them with her having been sold\nto the king of Persia, in whose palace she was at present; Sister, cried\nthe king her brother, you have been mightily wronged in having so many\naffronts offered you; but you can blame nobody but yourself: you have it\nin your power now to free yourself; and I cannot but admire your\npatience, that you could endure so long a slavery. Rise, and return with\nus into my kingdom, that I have reconquered, and taken from the proud\nusurper that was once master of it.\n\nThe king of Persia, who heard these killing words from the closet where\nhe stood, was in the utmost confusion imaginable. Ah! said he to himself,\nI am ruined and undone; and if my queen, my angel, leaves me, I shall\nsurely die, for it is impossible for me to live without her: and will\nthey be so barbarous as to deprive me of her? But the queen Gulnare soon\nput him out of his fears, and eased the sorrow of his heart.\n\nBrother, said she, and smiled, what I have just now heard, gives me a\ngreater proof than ever I had of the sincerity of your friendship for me;\nbut as heretofore I could not brook your proposing a match between me and\na prince of the earth, so now I can scarce forbear being angry with you,\nfor advising me to break the engagement I have made with the most\npuissant and most renowned monarch in the world. I do not speak here of\nan engagement between a slave and her master; if that were all, it would\nbe easy to return the ten thousand pieces of gold that I cost him; but I\nspeak now of a contract between a woman and her husband, who has never\ngiven her the least reason to complain or be discontented: besides, he is\na king, wise, temperate, religious, and just, and has given me the most\nessential demonstrations of his love that possibly he could. What can be\na greater instance of the violence of his passion, than sending away all\nhis women (of which he had a great number) immediately upon my arrival,\nand confining himself only to me? I am now his wife, and he has lately\ndeclared me queen of Persia; and I am to sit with him in the council:\nbesides, I am breeding; and if Heaven shall be pleased to favour me with\na son, that shall be another motive to engage my affections to him the\nmore. So, brother, continued the queen Gulnare, instead of following your\nadvice, you see I have all the reason in the world, not only to love the\nking of Persia as passionately as I do, but also to live and die with\nhim, more out of gratitude than duty. I hope, then, neither my mother,\nnor you, nor any of my cousins, will disapprove of the resolution and\nalliance I have made, which will be an equal honour to the kings of both\nthe sea and earth. I ask a thousand pardons for giving you the trouble of\ncoming hither from the bottom of the deep to partake of it; and I return\nyou thanks for the pleasure of seeing you after so long a separation.\n\nSister, replied king Saleh, the proposition I made you of going back with\nus into my kingdom, upon the recital of your adventures, (which I could\nnot hear without concern,) was to let you see what a particular love and\nhonour I had for you, and that nothing in the world was so dear to me as\nyour welfare and happiness. Upon the same account, then, for my own part,\nI cannot condemn a resolution so reasonable, and so worthy of yourself,\nafter what you have told me of the king of Persia your husband, and the\nmany obligations you have to him; and I am persuaded that the queen our\nmother will be of the same opinion.\n\nThe queen confirmed what her son had just spoken, and addressing herself\nimmediately to her daughter, said, My dear, I am very glad to hear you\nare pleased; and I have nothing else to add to what your brother has\nalready said to you. I should have been the first that would have\ncondemned you, if you had not expressed all the gratitude you were\ncapable of for a monarch that loves you so passionately, and has done\nsuch mighty things to oblige you.\n\nAs the king of Persia, who was still in the closet, had been extremely\nconcerned for fear of losing his beloved queen, so now he was transported\nwith joy at her resolution never to forsake him; and having no room to\ndoubt of her love, after so open a declaration, he began to love her more\nthan ever, and was resolved within himself to give her all the outward\nproofs of it, after the most sensible manner he possibly could.\n\nWhile the king was entertaining himself with a pleasure that cannot\neasily be imagined, the queen Gulnare clapped her hands aloud, and\npresently in came some of her slaves, whom she had ordered to bring in a\ncollation. As soon as it was served up, she invited the queen her mother,\nthe king her brother, and her cousins, to sit down and take part of it.\nThey began to consider, that, without ever asking leave, they were got\ninto the palace of a mighty king, who had never seen or heard of them,\nand were all of the same opinion, that it would be a great piece of\nrudeness and incivility to eat at his table without him. This reflection\nraised a blush in their faces, and their eyes glowing with the concern\nthey were in, they breathed nothing but flames at their mouths and\nnostrils.\n\nThis unexpected sight put the king of Persia, who was perfectly ignorant\nof the cause of it, into a most dreadful consternation. The queen Gulnare\nfancying that his majesty might be a little surprised at it, and finding\nher relations desirous of the honour of seeing him, rose from her seat,\nand told them she would be back in a moment. She went directly to the\ncloset, and by her presence recovered the king of Persia from his\nsurprise: Sir, said she, I doubt not but that your majesty is well\npleased with the acknowledgment I have lately made of the many favours\nthat I am still indebted to your goodness for. It was wholly in my power\nto have complied with my relations, who would fain have persuaded me to\nhave forsaken you, and gone back with them into their dominions; but\nalas! I am not capable of being guilty of such ingratitude as I should\nhave condemned in another. Ah! my queen, cried the king of Persia, speak\nno more of your obligations to me, for indeed you have none; it is I that\nam your debtor so much, that I am afraid I shall never be able to repay,\nor return you thanks equal to the favour you have done me; for I never\nthought it possible you could have loved me so tenderly as you do, and as\nyou have made it appear to me, after the most signal manner in the world.\nAh! sir, replied the queen Gulnare, could I do less than I have done? I\nrather fear I have not done enough, considering all the honours and\nfavours that your majesty has heaped upon me; and it is impossible for me\nto remain insensible of your passion, after so many convincing proofs as\nyou have given me. But let us drop this, and give me leave to assure you\nof the sincere friendship that the queen my mother, and the king my\nbrother, are pleased to honour you with; they earnestly desire to see\nyou, and tell you themselves. I intended to have discoursed with them a\nlittle before I introduced them to your majesty, and accordingly I have\nordered a banquet for them; but they are very impatient to pay their\nrespects to you, and therefore I desire your majesty would be pleased to\nwalk in, and honour them with your presence.\n\nMadam, said the king of Persia, I should be very glad to salute persons\nthat have the honour to be so nearly related to you; but I am afraid of\nthe flames that they breathe at their mouths and nostrils. Sir, replied\nthe queen, laughing, you need not in the least be afraid of those flames,\nwhich are nothing but a sign of their unwillingness to eat in your palace\nwithout your honouring them with your presence, and eating with them.\n\nThe king of Persia taking heart at these words, went into his chamber\nwith his queen Gulnare. She presented him to the queen her mother, to the\nking her brother, and to her other relations, who instantly threw\nthemselves at his feet, with their faces to the ground. The king of\nPersia ran to them, and lifting them up, embraced them one after another\nafter a very tender manner. After they were all seated, king Saleh began\nhis speech: Sir, said he to the king of Persia, we are at a loss for\nwords to express our joy, to think that the queen my sister, after all\nher hardships and affronts, should have the happiness of falling under\nthe protection of so powerful a monarch as your majesty. We can assure\nyou, sir, she is not unworthy of the high honour that you have been\npleased to raise her to; and we have always had so much love and\ntenderness for her, that we could never think of parting with her, even\nto the most puissant princes of the sea, who have often demanded her in\nmarriage before she came of age: but Heaven has reserved her for you,\nsir; and we have no better way of returning thanks for the favour it has\ndone her, than beseeching it to grant your majesty a long and happy life\nwith her, and to crown your days with content and satisfaction.\n\nCertainly, replied the king of Persia, Heaven reserved her purely for me,\nas you were pleased to observe; and I love her with so tender and violent\na passion, that it is plain I never loved any woman till I saw her. Oh!\nhow I am blessed and transported with her charms! and I cannot\nsufficiently thank either the queen her mother, or you, prince, or your\nwhole family, for the matchless generosity with which you have consented\nto receive me into so glorious an alliance as yours. At the end of these\nwords, he invited them to take part of the collation, and he and his\nqueen sat down at his table with them. After the collation was over, the\nking of Persia entertained them with discourse till it was very late; and\nwhen they thought it convenient to retire, he waited upon them himself to\nthe several apartments he had ordered to be prepared for them.\n\nThe king of Persia treated his illustrious guests for a great many days\ntogether; during which time, he omitted nothing that might show his court\nin its greatest splendour and magnificence, and insensibly prevailed with\nthem to stay there till the queen was brought to bed. When the time of\nher lying-in drew near, he gave particular orders to get every thing in\nreadiness that was necessary upon such an occasion. At last there was a\nson born, to the great joy of the queen his mother, who, as soon as he\nwas dressed in swaddling-clothes, which were very rich and costly, went\nand presented him to the king.\n\nThe king of Persia received the present with a joy easier to be imagined\nthan expressed. The young prince being of a beautiful countenance, and\nall over charms, he thought no name so proper for him as that of Beder,\nwhich, in the Arabian language, signifies the Full Moon. By way of thanks\nto Heaven, he was very liberal in his alms to the poor, and caused the\nprison-doors to be set open, and gave all the prisoners of both sexes\ntheir liberty. He distributed vast sums among the priests and the holy\nmen of his religion. He also gave large donatives to his courtiers,\nbesides a great deal that was thrown amongst the people; and, by a\nproclamation, ordered several rejoicing days to be kept publicly through\nthe whole city.\n\nOne day after the queen\u2019s up-sitting, as the king of Persia, queen\nGulnare herself, the queen her mother, king Saleh her brother, and the\nprincesses their relations, were discoursing together in her majesty\u2019s\nbed-chamber, the nurse chanced to come in with the young prince Beder in\nher arms. King Saleh no sooner saw him, than he ran to embrace him, and\ntaking him in his arms, fell a kissing and caressing him after a mighty\nrate. He took several turns with him about the room, dancing and dandling\nhim about, when all of a sudden, through a transport of joy, the window\nbeing open, he leaped out, and plunged with him into the sea.\n\nThe king of Persia, who expected no such sight, set up a hideous cry,\nverily believing he should either see the dear prince his son no more, or\nthat he should see him drowned; nay, he was like to give up the ghost\namidst his so great grief and affliction. Sir, quoth queen Gulnare, with\na quiet and undisturbed countenance, (the better to comfort him,) let\nyour majesty fear nothing; the young prince is my son as well as yours,\nand I do not love him less than you do. You see I am not alarmed at the\nloss of him; neither in truth ought I to be so. In short, he runs no\nrisk, and you will soon see the king his uncle appear with him again, who\nwill return him to you safe and sound. Although he be born of your blood\nas well as mine, he will not fail to have the same advantage his uncle\nand I have, of living equally in the sea and upon the land. The queen his\nmother, and the princesses his relations, confirmed the same thing: yet\nall was no great consolation to the king; he could not possibly recover\nfrom his fright till he saw prince Beder appear again as before.\n\nThe sea at length became troubled, when immediately king Saleh arose,\nwith the young prince in his arms, and dancing and dandling him about,\nre-entered at the same window he went out at. The king of Persia,\noverjoyed to see prince Beder again, became as calm as before he lost\nsight of him. Then king Saleh said, Sir, was not your majesty in a great\nfright, when you first saw me plunge into the sea with the prince my\nnephew? Alas! prince, answered the king of Persia, I cannot express my\nconcern: I thought him lost from that very moment, and you now restore\nlife to me by bringing him again. I thought as much, replied king Saleh,\nthough you had not the least reason to apprehend any danger; for before I\nplunged into the sea with him, I pronounced certain mysterious words over\nhim, which were engraven on the seal of the great Solomon the Son of\nDavid. We practise the like in relation to all those children that are\nborn in the regions at the bottom of the sea, by virtue whereof they\nreceive the same privileges that we have over those people who inhabit\nthe earth. Now, from what your majesty has observed, you may easily see\nwhat advantage your son prince Beder has acquired on the part of his\nmother queen Gulnare my sister; for as long as he lives, and as often as\nhe pleases, it shall be free for him to plunge into the sea, and traverse\nthe vast empires it contains at its bottom.\n\nHaving so spoken, king Saleh, who had restored prince Beder to his\nnurse\u2019s arms, opened a box he had fetched from his palace in that little\ntime he had disappeared, which was filled with three hundred diamonds, as\nlarge as pigeons\u2019 eggs; a like number of rubies, of extraordinary size;\nas many emerald wands, of half a foot long; and with thirty strings of\nnecklaces of pearl, consisting each of ten pieces. Sir, said he to the\nking of Persia, presenting him with this box, when I was first summoned\nby the queen my sister, I knew not what part of the earth she was in, or\nthat she had the honour to be married to so great a monarch as I now\nfind; wherefore I came empty-handed: but now I understand how much we\nhave been both obliged to your majesty, I beg you therefore to accept of\nthis small token of gratitude, in acknowledgment of the many particular\nfavours you have been pleased to do us, and whereof I am not less\nsensible than she.\n\nIt cannot be imagined how greatly the king of Persia was surprised at the\nsight of so much riches enclosed in so little compass. What! prince,\ncried he, do you call so inestimable a present a small token of your\ngratitude, when you never have been indebted to me? I declare you have\nnever been in the least obliged to me, neither you nor the queen your\nmother; I esteem myself but too happy in the consent you have been\npleased to give to the alliance I have contracted with you. Madam,\ncontinued he, turning to Gulnare, the king your brother has put me into\nthe greatest confusion in the world; and I would beg of him to retain his\npresent, were it not that I fear to disoblige him. Do you therefore\nendeavour to obtain his leave, that I may be dispensed with on this\noccasion.\n\nSir, replied king Saleh, I am not at all surprised that your majesty\nthinks this present so extraordinary: I know you are not accustomed upon\nearth to see such and so many fine stones; but if you knew, as I do, the\nmines from whence these jewels were taken, and that it is in my power to\nheap up a treasure, much larger than those, of all the things of the\nearth, you would, it may be, wonder I should have the boldness to make\nyou a present of so small a value. I beseech you therefore not to regard\nit in that respect, but on account of the sincere friendship I am obliged\nto offer to you, which I hope you will not give me the mortification to\nrefuse. These engaging expressions obliged the king of Persia to accept\nthe present, for which he returned many thanks, both to king Saleh and\nthe queen his mother.\n\nA few days after, king Saleh gave the king of Persia to understand that\nthe queen his mother, the princesses his relations, and himself could\nhave no greater pleasure than to spend their whole lives at his court;\nbut that having been absent from their own kingdom for some time, where\ntheir presence was absolutely necessary, they begged of him not to take\nit ill, if they took leave of him and queen Gulnare. The king of Persia\nassured them he was very sorry that it was not in his power to come and\nvisit them in their dominions; but added, As I am verily persuaded you\nwill not forget queen Gulnare, but come and see her now and then, I hope\nI shall have the honour to kiss your hands again many times before I die.\n\nMany tears were shed on both sides upon their separation. King Saleh\ndeparted first; but the queen his mother, and the princesses his\nrelations, were fain to force themselves, in a manner, from the embraces\nof queen Gulnare, who could not prevail with herself to let them go. This\nroyal company were no sooner out of sight, than the king of Persia said\nto queen Gulnare, Madam, I should have looked upon that person as one who\nwould have imposed on my credulity in the grossest manner, that had\npretended to palm those wonders upon me for true, which I myself have\nbeen an eye-witness of from the time I have been honoured with your\nillustrious family at my court: but I cannot escape conviction of this\nkind; and shall remember it as long as I live, and be always ready to\nbless Heaven for directing you to me, rather than to any other prince.\n\nYoung prince Beder was brought up and educated in the palace, under the\ncare of the king and queen of Persia, who both saw him grow and increase\nin beauty, to their great satisfaction. He gave them yet greater pleasure\nas he advanced in years, by his continued sprightliness, by his agreeable\nways in whatever he did, and by the justness and vivacity of his wit in\nwhatever he said; and they were the more sensible of this satisfaction,\nby reason king Saleh his uncle, the queen his grandmother, and the\nprincesses his relations, came from time to time to take part of it.\n\nHe was easily taught to read and write, and was instructed with the same\nfacility in all the sciences that became a prince of his rank.\n\nWhen he arrived at fifteen, he acquitted himself of all his exercises\nwith infinitely better address, and good grace, than any of his masters.\nHe was withal very wise and prudent. The king, who had almost from his\ncradle discovered in him virtues so necessary for a monarch, and who\nmoreover began to perceive the infirmities of old age coming upon\nhimself, would not stay till death gave him the possession of his throne,\nbut purposed to resign it to him immediately. He had no great difficulty\nto make his council consent to it; and the people heard this resolution\nwith so much the more joy, as they conceived prince Beder worthy to\ngovern them. In a word, as the king had not for a long time appeared in\npublic, they had all the opportunity in the world to observe he had not\nthat disdainful, proud, and crabbed air, which most princes, who look\nupon all below them with scorn and contempt, have. They saw, on the\ncontrary, he treated all mankind with that goodness which invited them to\napproach him, that he heard favourably all who had any thing to say to\nhim; that he answered every body with a goodness that was peculiar to\nhim; and that he refused nobody any thing that had the least appearance\nof reasonableness.\n\nThe day for the ceremony was appointed, when in the midst of the whole\nassembly, which was then more numerous than ordinary, the king of Persia,\nthen sitting on his throne, came down from it, took the crown off his\nhead, put it on that of prince Beder; and having seated him in his place,\nkissed his hand, as a token that he resigned his authority to him: after\nwhich, he ranged himself among the crowd of viziers and emirs.\n\nHereupon the viziers, emirs, and other principal officers, came\nimmediately and threw themselves at the new king\u2019s feet, taking each the\noath of fidelity, according to their degrees. Then the grand vizier made\na report of divers important matters; on which the young king gave\njudgment with that admirable prudence and sagacity that surprised all the\ncouncil. He next turned out divers governors convicted of\nmal-administration, and put others in their room; which he did with that\nwonderful and just discernment as excited the acclamations of every body,\nwhich were so much the more honourable, as flattery had no share in them.\nHe at length left the council, accompanied by the late king his father,\nand went to wait on his mother queen Gulnare, at her apartment. The queen\nno sooner saw him coming with the crown upon his head, than she ran to\nembrace him with a great deal of tenderness, wishing him a long and\nprosperous reign.\n\nThe first year of his reign, king Beder acquitted himself of all his\nroyal functions with great assiduity. Above all, he took care to instruct\nhimself in affairs of state, and all that might any way contribute\ntowards the happiness of his people. Next year, having left the\nadministration to his council, under the direction of the old king his\nfather, he went out of his capital city, under pretence of diverting\nhimself with hunting; but his real intention was to visit all the\nprovinces of his kingdom, that he might reform all abuses there,\nestablish good order and discipline every where, and deprive all\nill-minded princes, his neighbours, of any opportunities of attempting\nany thing against the security and tranquillity of his subjects, by\nappearing and showing himself seasonably on his frontiers.\n\nNo less than a whole year sufficed this young king to put in practice a\npurpose so worthy of him. Soon after his return, the old king his father\nfell so dangerously ill, that he knew at first he should never recover.\nHe waited for his last moment with great tranquillity, and his only care\nwas to recommend to the ministers and other lords of his son\u2019s court to\npersist in the fidelity they had sworn to him; insomuch that there was\nnot one but willingly renewed his oath as freely as at first. He died at\nlength, to the great grief of king Beder and queen Gulnare, who caused\nhis corpse to be carried to a stately mausoleum, worthy of his rank and\ndignity.\n\nWhen the funeral obsequies were ended, king Beder found no difficulty to\ncomply with that ancient custom in Persia to mourn for the dead a whole\nmonth, and not to be seen by any body during all that time. He had\nmourned the death of his father his whole life, had he hearkened to his\nexcessive affliction, and had it been permitted to so great a prince as\nhe was to amuse himself after that manner. During this interval, the\nqueen, mother to queen Gulnare, and king Saleh, together with the\nprincesses their relations, arrived at the Persian court, and shared in\ngreat part of their affliction, before they proposed any consolation.\n\nThough the month was expired, the king could not prevail on himself to\ngive admittance to the grand vizier and the other lords of his court, who\nall besought him to lay aside his mourning habit, to show himself to his\nsubjects, and take upon him the administration of affairs as before.\n\nHe showed so great unwillingness to their request, that the grand vizier\ntook upon him to speak in the following manner: Sir, it would be needless\nto represent to your majesty that it belongs only to women to persist in\nperpetual mourning. We doubt not but you are sufficiently convinced of\nthat, and that it is not your intention to follow their example. Neither\nour tears nor yours are capable of restoring life to the good king your\nfather, though we should lament all our days. He has undergone the common\nfate of all men, which nobody can resist. Yet we cannot say absolutely\nthat he is dead, since we see him reviving in the person of your sacred\nmajesty. He did not himself doubt, when he was dying, but he should\nrevive in you, and to your majesty it belongs to show that he was not\ndeceived.\n\nKing Beder could no longer oppose such pressing instances. He laid aside\nhis mourning habit that very moment; and after he had resumed the royal\nornaments, he began to provide for the necessities of his subjects with\nthe same assiduity as before his father\u2019s death. He acquitted himself\nwith universal approbation; and, as he was exact in maintaining his\npredecessor\u2019s ordinances, the people perceived no alteration in their\nsovereign.\n\nKing Saleh, who was returned to his dominions in the sea, with the queen\nhis mother and the princesses, no sooner saw that king Beder had resumed\nthe government, than he came alone to visit him; and king Beder and queen\nGulnare were overjoyed to see him. One day, as they rose from table, they\nfell to discoursing of several matters. King Saleh fell insensibly on the\npraises of the king his nephew, and the queen his sister, how glad he was\nto see him govern so prudently, which had acquired him so great\nreputation, not only among his neighbours, but more remote princes. King\nBeder, who could not bear to hear himself so well spoken of, and not\nbeing willing to interrupt the king his uncle, through good manners\nturned on one side, and seemed to be asleep, leaning his head against a\ncushion that was behind him.\n\nFrom these commendations, which regarded only the wonderful conduct and\nsurprising wit of king Beder, king Saleh came to speak of the perfections\nof his body, which he extolled after a mighty rate, as having nothing\nequal to them, either upon the earth, or the kingdoms under the waters,\nwhich he was well acquainted with.\n\nSister, said he in an ecstasy, so beautiful as he is, and of such\nexcellent endowments, I wonder you have not thought of marrying him ere\nthis: if I mistake not, he is at present in his twentieth year, and at\nthat age no prince ought to be suffered to be without a wife. I will\nthink of a match for him myself, since you will not, and marry him to\nsome princess of our lower world, that may be worthy of him.\n\nBrother, replied queen Gulnare, you call to my remembrance a thing, I\nmust own, I have never thought of to this very moment. As he never\ndiscovered any inclination for marriage, I never thought of mentioning it\nto him; and I am glad you have now spoken of it to me. I like your\nproposing one of your princesses; and I desire you to name one who may be\nbeautiful and well accomplished, that the king my son may be obliged to\nlove her.\n\nI know one that will be proper, replied king Saleh, softly; but before I\nwill tell you who she is, let us see if the king my nephew sleeps or not,\nand I will tell you afterwards why it is necessary we should take that\nprecaution. Queen Gulnare then looked upon her son, and thought she had\nno reason to doubt but he was profoundly asleep, (king Beder\nnevertheless, very far from sleeping, redoubled his attention, as being\nunwilling to lose any thing the king his uncle said upon that subject.)\nThere is no necessity for your speaking so low, said the queen to the\nking her brother; you may speak out with all freedom, without fear of\nbeing heard.\n\nIt is by no means proper, replied king Saleh, that the king my nephew\nshould as yet have any knowledge of what I am going to say. Love, you\nknow, sometimes enters the ear; and it is not necessary he should love\nthis lady I am about to name, after that sort: in short, I see many\ndifficulties to surmount in this case, not on the lady\u2019s part, as I hope,\nbut on that of her father. I need only mention to you the princess\nGiahaure[2], and the king of Samarcand.\n\nHow, brother, replied queen Gulnare, is not the princess Giahaure yet\nmarried? I remember to have seen her a little before I left your palace;\nshe was then about eighteen months old, and surprisingly beautiful, and\nmust needs be the wonder of the world, if her charms have increased equal\nwith her years. The few years she is older than the king my son, ought\nnot to hinder our doing our utmost to bring the match about. Let me know\nbut the difficulties that are to be surmounted, and I will warrant we\nwill do well enough.\n\nSister, replied king Saleh, the greatest difficulty is, that the king of\nSamarcand is insupportably vain, looking upon all others as his\ninferiors: it is not likely we shall easily get him to enter into this\nalliance. For my part, I will go to him in person, and demand the\nprincess his daughter of him; and in case he refuses her, will address\nourselves elsewhere, where we shall be like to be more favourably heard.\nFor this reason, as you may perceive, added he, it is not proper for the\nking my nephew to know any thing of our design, lest he should fall in\nlove with the princess Giahaure, and we afterwards not be able to obtain\nher for him. They discoursed a little longer upon this point, and before\nthey parted, agreed that king Saleh should forthwith return to his own\ndominions, and demand the princess Giahaure of the king of Samarcand, her\nfather, for the king of Persia, his nephew.\n\nThis done, queen Gulnare and king Saleh, who verily believed king Beder\nasleep, agreed to wake him; and he dissembled the matter so well, that he\nseemed to wake from a profound sleep. He had nevertheless heard every\nword they said; and the character they gave of the princess Giahaure had\ninflamed his heart with an unknown passion. He had conceived so bright an\nidea of her beauty, that he could not sleep a wink all night, but\nremained under continual inquietudes.\n\nNext day king Saleh would needs take leave of queen Gulnare and the king\nhis nephew. The young king, who knew the king his uncle would not have\ndeparted so soon, but to go and promote his happiness, blushed when he\nheard him mention his departure. His passion was become so violent, it\nwould not suffer him to wait so long for the sight of his mistress as\nwould suffice to accomplish the marriage. He more than once resolved to\ndesire his uncle to bring her away with him; but as he did not care to\nlet the queen his mother understand he knew any thing of what had passed,\nhe desired him only to stay with him a day or two, that they might hunt\ntogether, intending to make use of that occasion to discover his mind to\nhim.\n\nThe day for hunting was set, and king Beder had many opportunities to\ndeclare his mind to his uncle; but he had not the courage so much as once\nto open his mouth to acquaint him with what he designed.\n\nIn the midst of the chase, when not only king Saleh but all his\nattendants had left him, he alighted near a spring; and, having tied his\nhorse to a tree that afforded a very plentiful shade, as did several\nothers along the banks of the rivulet, he laid himself down on the grass,\nand gave a free course to his tears, which issued forth in great\nabundance, accompanied with many sobs and sighs. He remained in this\ncondition, overwhelmed with thought, and not speaking so much as one\nword. King Saleh, in the mean time, missing the king his nephew, and not\nmeeting with any one who could tell tidings of him, began to be much\nconcerned to know what was become of him. He therefore left his company\nto go in search of him, and at length perceived him at a distance. He had\nobserved the day before, and even more evidently that day, that he was\nnot so merry as he used to be, that he was more pensive than ordinary,\nand that if he was asked a question, he either answered not at all, or\nnothing to the purpose: but he never so much as in the least suspected\nthe cause of all this alteration, till he saw him lying in that\ndisconsolate posture; when he immediately guessed he had not only heard\nwhat passed between him and the queen Gulnare, but was become\npassionately in love. He hereupon alighted, at some distance from him,\nand having tied his horse to a tree, took a compass, and came upon him so\nsoftly, that he heard him pronounce the following words:\n\nAdorable princess of the kingdom of Samarcand, cried he out, I have no\ndoubt had but an imperfect sketch of your incomparable beauty; yet I hold\nyou to be preferable to all the princesses in the world in charms, and to\nexcel them as much as the sun does the moon and stars. I would this\nmoment go and offer you my heart, if I but knew where to find you: it\nbelongs to you, dear princess, and nobody shall be the possessor of it\nbut you.\n\nKing Saleh would hear no more: he advanced immediately, and discovered\nhimself to king Beder. From what I have understood, nephew, said he, you\nheard that which the queen your mother and I discoursed the other day of\nthe princess Giahaure. It was not our intention you should have known any\nthing, and we verily thought you were asleep. My dear uncle, replied king\nBeder, I heard every word you said, and have sufficiently experienced the\neffect you foretold; which it was not in your power to prevent. I\ndetained you on purpose to acquaint you with my love before your\ndeparture; but the confusion I had to let you know my weakness, if it be\nany to love so worthy a princess as this seems to be, altogether sealed\nmy mouth. I beseech you then, by the friendship you profess for a prince\nthat has the honour to be so nearly allied to you, that you would pity\nme, and not delay to procure me the consent of the king of Samarcand,\nthat I may marry his daughter, the adorable Giahaure, with all speed,\nunless you have a mind to see me die with love before I have the sight of\nher.\n\nThese words of the king of Persia troubled king Saleh very much: he gave\nhim to understand how difficult it was to give him the satisfaction he\ndesired, and that he could not well do it without carrying him along with\nhim; which might be of dangerous consequences, since his presence was so\nabsolutely necessary in his kingdom, that the least absence might\noccasion his subjects to revolt. He conjured him, therefore, to moderate\nhis passion till such time as he had put things into a better posture;\nassuring him he would use his utmost diligence to content him, and, when\nhe had brought matters to bear, he would come to acquaint him. But these\nreasons were not sufficient to satisfy the king of Persia. Cruel uncle,\nsaid he, I find you do not love me so much as you pretended, and that you\nhad rather see me die than grant the first request that ever I made you.\n\nI am ready to convince your majesty, replied king Saleh, that I would do\nany thing to serve you in reason; but as for carrying you along with me,\nI cannot do that till I have spoken to the queen your mother. What would\nshe say if I should do this? If she consents, I am ready to do all you\nwould have me. You cannot be ignorant, replied the king of Persia, that\nthe queen my mother would never willingly part with me; and therefore\nthis excuse of yours does but yet farther convince me of the hardness of\nyour heart. If you do really love me, as you would have me to believe you\ndo, you must return to your kingdom immediately, and carry me along with\nyou.\n\nKing Saleh, finding himself in a manner obliged to yield to his nephew\u2019s\nimportunity, drew a ring off his finger, which was engraved with the same\nmysterious names of God that were upon Solomon\u2019s seal, that had wrought\nso many wonders by their virtue. Here, take this ring, said he, put it\nupon your finger, and fear neither the waters of the sea, nor their\ndepth. The king of Persia took the ring, and when he had put it on his\nfinger, king Saleh said unto him, Follow me; when, at the same time, they\nboth mounted leisurely up into the air, and made towards the sea, which\nwas not far off, whereinto they jointly plunged.\n\nThe sea-king was not long in going to his palace with the king of Persia,\nwhom he immediately carried to the queen\u2019s apartment, and presented him\nto her. The king of Persia kissed the queen his grandmother\u2019s hands, and\nshe embraced him with great demonstrations of joy. I do not ask you how\nyou do, said she to him, I see you are well enough, and I am rejoiced at\nit; but I desire to know how my daughter and your mother queen Gulnare\ndoes. The king of Persia took great care not to let her know he came\nwithout her consent; and therefore told her the queen his mother was in\nperfect health, and had enjoined him to pay her duty to her. Then the\nqueen presented him to the princesses; and while he was in conversation\nwith them, she left him, and went with king Saleh into a closet. He there\ntold her how the king of Persia was fallen in love with the princess\nGiahaure, upon the bare relation of her beauty; and, contrary to his\nintention, that he had brought him along with him, without being able to\nhinder it, and that he was going to concert measures to procure the\nprincess for him in marriage.\n\nAlthough king Saleh was, to do him justice, perfectly innocent of the\nking of Persia\u2019s passion, yet the queen could hardly forgive his\nindiscretion, in mentioning the princess Giahaure before him. Your\nimprudence is beyond parallel, said she to him: can you think that the\nking of Samarcand, whose character is so well known, will have greater\nconsideration for you than the many other kings he has refused his\ndaughter to with scorn and contempt? Would you have him send you away\nwith the same confusion he has done them?\n\nMadam, replied king Saleh, I have told you it was contrary to my\nintention that the king my nephew heard what I related of the beauty of\nthe princess Giahaure to the queen my sister. The fault, if it be one, is\nalready committed; and we must consider what a violent passion he has for\nthis princess, and that he will die with grief and affliction if we do\nnot speedily obtain her for him, with whatever trouble we are to do it.\nFor my part, I shall omit nothing that may contribute to it, since I was,\nthough innocently, the cause of the malady: I will therefore do all that\nI can to remedy it. I hope, madam, you will approve of my resolution, to\ngo and wait upon the king of Samarcand, with a rich present of precious\nstones, and demand the princess his daughter of him for the king of\nPersia, your grandson and my nephew. I have some reason to believe he\nwill not refuse me, nor neglect to ally himself with one of the greatest\npotentates of the earth.\n\nIt were to have been wished, replied the queen, that we had not been\nunder a necessity of making this demand, since the success of our attempt\nis not so certain as we could desire; but since my grandson\u2019s quiet and\ncontent totally depend upon it, I freely give my consent to it. But,\nabove all, I charge you, since you sufficiently know the humour of the\nking of Samarcand, that you take care to show him due respect, and not in\nany wise offend him by too presuming a behaviour.\n\nThe queen prepared the present herself, composing it of diamonds, rubies,\nemeralds, and strings of pearl; all which she put into a box, very neat\nand very rich. Next morning, king Saleh took his leave of her majesty and\nthe king of Persia, and departed with a chosen but small troop of\nofficers and other attendants. He soon arrived at the capital and palace\nof the king of Samarcand, who did not scruple to afford him audience\nimmediately upon his arrival. He rose from his throne as soon as he\nperceived king Saleh; who, being willing to forget his character for some\nmoments, knowing whom he had to deal with, prostrated himself at his\nfeet, wishing him an accomplishment of whatever he desired. The king of\nSamarcand immediately stooped to take him up; and, after he had placed\nhim by him on his left-hand, he told him he was welcome, and asked him if\nthere was any thing he could do to serve him.\n\nSir, answered king Saleh, though I should have no other motive than that\nof rendering my respects to the most potent and most prudent prince in\nthe world, yet would I endeavour to convince your majesty, though poorly,\nhow much I honour and adore you. Were it possible you could penetrate\ninto my inmost soul, you would soon be convinced of the great veneration\nI have had for you, and the ardent desire I entertain to pay you my most\nhumble acknowledgments. Having spoken these words, he took the box of\njewels from one of his servants, and having opened it, presented it to\nthe king, imploring him to accept of it for his sake.\n\nPrince, replied the king of Samarcand, I hope you do not make me this\npresent without requiring a proportional benefit from me. If there be any\nthing within the compass of my capacity, you may freely command it, and\nwill do me signal honour in accepting it. Speak, and tell me frankly\nwherein I can serve you.\n\nI must own ingenuously, replied king Saleh, I have a boon to ask of your\nmajesty; but I shall take care to ask nothing but what is within your\npower to grant. The thing depends so absolutely on yourself, that it\nwould be to no purpose to require it of any other. I ask it then with all\npossible earnestness, and I beg of you not to refuse it me. If it be so,\nreplied the king of Samarcand, you have nothing to do but to acquaint me\nwhat it is, and you shall see after what manner I can oblige people of\ndesert.\n\nSir, then said king Saleh, after the confidence your majesty has been\npleased to think I have put in your good-will, I will not dissemble any\nlonger, that I came to beg of you to honour our house with your alliance\nby marriage, and by that means to fortify the good understanding that has\nalways hitherto been between our two crowns.\n\nAt these words, the king of Samarcand began to laugh heartily, falling\nback in his throne against a cushion that supported him; and soon after\nsaid, with an injurious and scornful air, to king Saleh; King Saleh, I\nhave always hitherto thought you were a prince of great sense and wisdom;\nbut now I find you just the contrary. Tell me, I beseech you, where was\nyour wit or discretion, when you formed to yourself so great a chimera as\nyou have just now proposed to me? Could you conceive a thought only of\naspiring in marriage to so great a princess as my daughter? You ought to\nhave considered better the great distance between us, and not to run the\nrisk of losing in a moment the esteem I always had for your person.\n\nKing Saleh was extremely nettled at this affronting answer, and had much\nado to restrain his just resentment: however he replied, with greater\nmoderation than could be expected, God reward your majesty according as\nyou deserve. I beg the honour to inform you, I do not demand the princess\nin marriage for myself: had I done so, your majesty, or the princess,\nought to have been so far from being offended, that you might rather have\ntaken it for an honour done to both. Your majesty knows well I am a king\nof the sea as well as yourself; that the kings my ancestors have no\nreason to yield in antiquity to any other royal families; and that the\nkingdom I inherit from them is no less potent and flourishing than it has\never been. If your majesty had not interrupted me, you had soon\nunderstood, that the favour I asked of you was not for myself, but for\nthe young king of Persia, my nephew, whose power and grandeur, no less\nthan his personal good qualities, cannot be unknown to you. Every body\nacknowledges the princess Giahaure to be one of the finest ladies under\nthe heavens; but it is at the same time acknowledged by all, that the\nyoung king of Persia, my nephew, is as accomplished as any prince, either\nupon land or under the water. Thus the favour that is asked being likely\nto redound both to the honour of your majesty and the princess your\ndaughter, you ought not to delay your consent to an alliance so equal,\nand which no doubt will be approved by the generality of people. The\nprincess is worthy of the king of Persia, and the king of Persia is no\nless worthy of her. No king or prince in the world can deny me this.\n\nThe king of Samarcand had not let king Saleh go on so long after this\nrate, had not the rage he put him in deprived him of all power of speech.\nHe was moreover some time longer before he could find his tongue, so much\nwas he transported with passion. At length, however, he broke out into\noutrageous and injurious expressions, unworthy of a king. Dog, says he\naloud, dare you talk to me after this manner, and so much as once to\nmention my daughter\u2019s name in my presence? Can you think the son of your\nsister Gulnare worthy to come in competition with my daughter? Who are\nyou? who was your father? who is your sister? and who your nephew? Was\nnot his father a dog, and a son of a dog, like thee? Guards, seize the\ninsolent wretch, and immediately cut off his head.\n\nThe few officers that were about the king of Samarcand were immediately\ngoing to obey his orders, when king Saleh, who was in the flower of his\nage, nimble and vigorous, got from them before they could draw their\nsabres; and, having reached the palace gate, he there found a thousand\nmen of his relations and friends, well armed and equipped, who were but\njust arrived. The queen his mother having considered the small number of\nattendants he took with him, and moreover foreseeing the bad reception he\nwould probably have from the king of Samarcand, had sent these troops to\nprotect and defend him, in case of danger. Those of his relations who\nwere at the head of this troop immediately saw how seasonably they were\narrived, when they beheld him and his companions come running in great\ndisorder, and a small number of officers at their heels in pursuit of\nthem. My lord, cried out his friends, at the moment he joined them, what\nis the matter? We are ready to revenge you; you need only command us.\n\nKing Saleh related his case to them in as few words as he could; and\nafterwards putting himself at the head of a large troop, he, whilst some\nseized on the gates, re-entered the palace as before. The few officers\nand guards who had pursued him being soon dispersed, he re-entered the\nking of Samarcand\u2019s apartment, who, being abandoned by his attendants,\nwas soon seized. King Saleh left sufficient guards to secure his person,\nand then went from apartment to apartment, to search after the princess\nGiahaure. But that princess, on the first noise of this alarm, had,\ntogether with her women, flung herself on the surface of the sea, and\nescaped to a desert island.\n\nAs matters passed thus in the palace of the king of Samarcand, those of\nking Saleh\u2019s attendants, who had fled at the first menaces of the king,\nput the queen his mother into a terrible consternation, upon relating the\ndanger her son was in. King Beder, who was by at that time, was the more\nconcerned, in that he looked upon himself as the principal author of all\nthe mischief that might ensue: therefore, not caring to abide the queen\u2019s\npresence any longer, he, whilst she was giving the necessary orders at\nthat conjuncture, darted himself upwards from the bottom of the sea; and\nnot knowing how to find his way to the kingdom of Persia, he happened to\nlight on the same island where the princess Giahaure had saved herself.\n\nThe prince, not a little disturbed in his mind, went and seated himself\nunder the shade of a large tree, surrounded with divers others. Whilst he\nwas endeavouring to recover his temper, he heard one that talked, but was\ntoo far off to understand what was said. He arose, and advanced softly\ntowards the place whence the sound came, where, among the branches, he\nperceived a beauty that dazzled him. Doubtless, said he within himself,\nstopping, and considering her with great attention, this must be the\nprincess Giahaure, whom fear has obliged to abandon her father\u2019s palace;\nor, if it be not, she is, at least, one that no less deserves my love and\nadmiration. This said, he moved forward, and discovering himself,\napproached the princess with a profound reverence. Madam, said he, I can\nnever sufficiently thank Heaven for the favour it has done me, in\nregaling my eyes this day with so glorious a sight. A greater blessing\ncould not be conferred on me than this opportunity to offer you my most\nhumble services. I beseech you, therefore, madam, to accept them, it\nbeing impossible that a lady, under such solitary circumstances, should\nnot want assistance.\n\nTrue, my lord, replied Giahaure, very sorrowfully, it is not a little\nextraordinary for a lady of my quality to be found in this condition. I\nam a princess, daughter of the king of Samarcand, and my name is\nGiahaure. As I was at ease in my father\u2019s palace, and in my apartment, I\nall of a sudden heard a dreadful noise: news was immediately brought me,\nthat king Saleh, I know not for what reason, had fired the palace, seized\nupon the king my father, and murdered all the guards that made any\nresistance. I had only time to save myself, and escape hither from his\nviolence.\n\nAt these words of the princess, king Beder began to be concerned that he\nhad quitted his grandmother so hastily, without staying to hear from her\nthe news that had been brought her; but he was, on the other hand,\noverjoyed to find that the king his uncle had rendered himself master of\nthe king of Samarcand\u2019s person, not doubting but he would consent to give\nup the princess for his liberty. Adorable princess, continued he, your\nconcern is most just; but it is easy to put an end both to that and your\nfather\u2019s captivity. You will agree with me, when I shall tell you that I\nam Beder, king of Persia, and king Saleh is my uncle. I assure you,\nmadam, he has no design to seize upon the king your father\u2019s dominions:\nhis only intent is, to obtain of him that I may have the honour to be\nreceived for his son-in-law. I had already given my heart to you, upon\nthe bare relation of your charming beauty; and now, very far from\nrepenting of what I have done, I beg of you to accept it, and to be\nassured that I will love you as long as I live. I dare flatter myself you\nwill not refuse this favour, but be ready to acknowledge, that a king\nthat quitted his dominions purely on your account deserves some favour.\nPermit then, beauteous princess, that I may have the honour to go and\npresent you to the king my uncle; and the king your father shall no\nsooner have consented to our marriage, than king Saleh will leave him\nsovereign of his dominions as before.\n\nThis declaration of king Beder had not all the success he could have\ndesired. It is true the princess no sooner saw his person, and the good\nmien wherewith he accosted her, than she had some kindness for him; but\nwhen she came to understand from his own mouth that he had been the\noccasion of all the ill treatment her father had undergone, of the grief\nand fright she had endured, and especially the necessity she was reduced\nto in flying her country to save her life, she looked upon him with that\nhorror, that she considered him rather as an enemy than a friend, with\nwhom she resolved to have no manner of converse. Moreover, whatever\ninclination she might by any means be thought to have in regard to this\nmarriage, she determined never to yield to it, in consideration that one\nof the reasons her father might have against this match might be, that\nking Beder was son of a king of the earth; and therefore she proposed to\nobey her father, especially in that particular.\n\nShe nevertheless resolved to let king Beder know nothing of her\nresentment, and only sought an occasion to deliver herself dexterously\nout of his hands, seeming, in the mean time, to have a great kindness for\nhim. Are you then, said she, with all possible civility, son of the queen\nGulnare, so famous for her wit and beauty? I am highly glad of it, and\nmoreover rejoice that you are the son of so worthy a mother. The king my\nfather was much in the wrong for so strongly opposing our conjunction: he\ncould no sooner have seen you but he must have consented to have made us\nboth happy. Saying these words, she reached forth her hand to him as a\ntoken of friendship.\n\nKing Beder, believing himself arrived at the very pinnacle of happiness\nheld forth his hand, and was stooping to take that of the princess to\nkiss it, when she, pushing him back, and spitting at him, said, Wretch,\nquit that form of a man, and take one of a white bird, with a red bill\nand feet. Upon her pronouncing these words, king Beder was immediately\nchanged into a bird of that sort, to his great surprise and astonishment.\nTake him now, said she to one of her women, and carry him to the Desert\nIsland. This island was only one frightful rock, where there was not a\ndrop of water to be had.\n\nThe waiting-woman took the bird; and, in executing the princess\u2019s orders,\nhad compassion on king Beder\u2019s destiny. It would be great pity, said she\nto herself, to let a prince, so worthy to live, die of hunger and thirst.\nThe princess will, it may be, repent of what she has ordered, when she\ncomes again to herself: it were better that I carried him to a place\nwhere he may die a natural death. She then carried him to a\nwell-frequented island, and left him on a charming plain, planted with\nall sorts of fruit-trees, and watered by divers rivulets.\n\nLet us now return to king Saleh, who, after he had sought a good while\nfor the princess Giahaure, and ordered others to seek for her, to no\npurpose, caused the king of Samarcand to be shut up in his palace, under\na good guard; and, having given the necessary orders for governing the\nkingdom in his absence, he returned to give the queen his mother an\naccount of what he had done. The first thing he asked, upon his arrival,\nwas, Where was the king his nephew? and he was answered, to his great\nsurprise and astonishment, that he disappeared soon after he left him.\nNews being brought me, said the queen, of the danger you was in at the\npalace of the king of Samarcand, while I was giving orders to send troops\nfor you to revenge yourself, he disappeared. He must necessarily have\nbeen frightened at the hearing of your being in so great danger, and did\nnot think himself in sufficient security with us.\n\nThis news exceedingly afflicted king Saleh, who now repented of his being\nso easily wrought upon by king Beder, as to carry him away with him\nwithout his mother\u2019s consent. He sent every where after him; but whatever\ndiligence was used, he could hear no news of him; and instead of the joy\nhe conceived at having carried on the marriage so far, which he looked\nupon as his own work, he felt a grief for this accident that was\nmortifying to him. While he was under suspense about his nephew, he left\nhis kingdom to the administration of his mother, and went and governed\nthat of the king of Samarcand, whom he continued to keep with great\nvigilance, though with all due respect to his character.\n\nThe same day that king Saleh returned to the kingdom of Samarcand, queen\nGulnare, mother to king Beder, arrived at the court of the queen her\nmother. The princess was not at all surprised to find her son did not\nreturn the same day he set out; because it was common for him to go\nfarther than he proposed, in the heat of the chase: but when she saw he\nneither returned the next day nor the day after that, she began to be\nalarmed, as may easily be imagined, from the kindness she professed for\nhim. This alarm was considerably augmented, when the officers who had\naccompanied the king, and were retired, after they had for a long time\nsought in vain both for him and his uncle, came and told her majesty they\nmust of necessity have come to some harm, since, whatever diligence they\nhad used, they had heard no tidings of them. Their horses, indeed, they\nhad found; but, as for their persons, they knew not where to look for\nthem. The queen, hearing this, dissembled and concealed her affliction,\nbidding the officers go and search once more with their utmost diligence;\nbut in the mean time, saying nothing to any body, she went and plunged\ninto the sea, to satisfy herself in the suspicion she had that king Saleh\nmust have carried away his nephew along with him.\n\nThis great queen would have been the more affectionately received by the\nqueen her mother, had she not, upon first sight of her, guessed the\noccasion of her coming. Daughter, said she, I plainly perceive you are\nnot come hither to visit me; you come only to inquire after the king your\nson; and I can only tell you such news of him as will augment both your\ngrief and mine. I must confess, I no sooner saw him arrive in our\nterritories, than I greatly rejoiced: yet, when I came to understand he\nhad come away without your knowledge, I began to partake with you in the\nconcern you must needs have at it. Then she related to her with what zeal\nking Saleh went to demand the princess Giahaure in marriage for king\nBeder, and what happened upon it, till such time as her son disappeared.\nI have sent diligently after him, added she; and the king my son, who is\njust gone to govern the kingdom of Samarcand, has done all that lay in\nhis power on his part. All our endeavours have hitherto proved\nunsuccessful; but we hope nevertheless to see him again, perhaps when we\nleast expect it.\n\nComfortless queen Gulnare was not satisfied with this hope: she looked\nupon the king her dear son as lost; and she lamented him grievously,\nlaying all the blame upon the king his uncle. The queen her mother made\nher to consider the necessity there was of her not yielding too much to\nher grief. The king your brother, said she, ought not, it is true, to\nhave talked to you so inconsiderately about that marriage, nor ever have\nconsented to carry away the king your son without your privacy: yet,\nsince it is not certain that the king of Persia is absolutely lost, you\nought to neglect nothing to preserve his kingdom for him. Lose then no\nmore time; but return to your capital: your presence there will be\nnecessary; and it will not be hard for you to preserve the public peace,\nby causing it to be published that the king of Persia was gone to visit\nhis grandmother.\n\nThis reason was sufficient to oblige queen Gulnare to submit to it. She\ntook leave of the queen her mother, and was got back to the palace of her\ncapital of Persia before she had been missed. She despatched immediately\npersons to recall the officers she had sent after the king, and to tell\nthem she knew where his majesty was, and that they should soon see him\nagain. She also caused the same report to be spread throughout the city,\nand governed, in concert with the prime minister and council, with the\nsame tranquillity as if the king had been present.\n\nTo return to king Beder, whom the princess Giahaure\u2019s waiting-woman had\ncarried and left in the island before mentioned. That monarch was not a\nlittle surprised when he found himself alone, and under the form of a\nbird. He esteemed himself more unhappy, in that he knew not where he was,\nnor in what part of the world the kingdom of Persia lay. But if he had\nknown, and sufficiently knew the force of his wings to traverse so vast\nwatery regions, what could he have gained by it, but the mortification to\ncontinue still in the same ill plight, not to be accounted so much as a\nman, in the lieu of being acknowledged for king of Persia? He was then in\na manner constrained to remain where he was, and live upon such\nnourishment as birds of his kind were wont to have.\n\nA few days after, a peasant, who was skilled in taking birds with nets,\nchanced to come to the place where he was; when, perceiving this fine\nbird, the like of which he had never seen, though he had used that sport\nfor a long while, he began greatly to rejoice. He employed all his art to\nbecome master of him; and at length used such proper methods, that he\ntook him. Overjoyed at so great a prize, which he looked upon to be of\nmore worth than all the other birds he commonly took, by reason of its\nbeing so great a rarity, he shut it up in a cage, and carried it to the\ncity. As soon as he was come into the market, a citizen stopped him, and\nasked him how much he would have for that bird.\n\nInstead of answering, the peasant demanded of the citizen what he would\ndo with him in case he should buy him. What wouldst thou have me do with\nhim, answered the citizen, but roast and eat him? Very well, replied the\npeasant; and so, I suppose, you would think me very well paid if you\nshould give me the smallest piece of money for him: but know, I set a\nmuch greater value upon him; and you should not have him for a large\npiece of gold. Although I am pretty well advanced in years, I never saw\nsuch a bird in my life. I intend to make a present to the king of him;\nand I am sure he will know the worth of him better than you.\n\nWithout staying any longer in the market, the peasant went directly to\nthe court, and placed himself exactly before the king\u2019s apartment. His\nmajesty being at a window where he could see all that passed in the\nbase-court, at length cast his eyes on this beautiful bird; and, being\ncharmed with the sight of it, he immediately sent the commander of his\neunuchs to buy it for him. The officer, going to the peasant, demanded of\nhim how much he would have for that bird. If it be for his majesty,\nanswered the peasant, I humbly beg of him to accept it of me as a\npresent, and I desire you to carry it to him. Hereupon the officer took\nthe bird, and brought it to the king, who found it so great a rarity,\nthat he ordered the same officer to take ten pieces of gold and carry\nthem to the peasant, who departed very well satisfied with the market he\nhad made. The king ordered the bird to be put into a magnificent cage,\nand gave it corn and water in rich vessels.\n\nHis majesty being then ready to mount on horseback, had not time to\nconsider the bird, therefore had it brought to him as soon as he came\nback. The officer brought the cage; and the king, that he might better\nview the bird, took it out himself, and perched it upon his hand. Looking\nearnestly upon it, he demanded of the officer if he had seen it eat. Sir,\nreplied the officer, your majesty may observe his eating: the drawer is\nstill full; and I believe he has hardly touched any of his meat; at least\nI did not see him. Then the king ordered him meat of divers sorts, that\nhe might take what he liked best.\n\nThe table being spread, (for dinner happened to be served up just as the\nking had given these orders), and the plates being placed, the bird\nleaped off the king\u2019s hand, and, clapping his wings, flew upon the table,\nwhere he began to peck the bread and victuals after an extraordinary\nrate. The king seeing this, was so surprised at it, that he immediately\nsent for the queen to come and see this miracle. The person that was sent\nrelated the matter to her majesty, and she came forthwith; but she no\nsooner saw the bird, than she covered her face with her veil, and would\nhave retired. The king, admiring her proceedings, in that there were none\nbut the eunuchs of the chamber and the women that waited on her, asked\nthe reason of it.\n\nSir, answered the queen, your majesty will no longer admire at my\nproceeding, when you come to know that this bird, which you take to be\nsuch, is no bird, but a man. Madam, said the king, more astonished than\nbefore, you are pleased to banter me, I suppose; but you shall never\npersuade me that a bird can be a man. Sir, replied the queen, far be it\nfrom me to banter your majesty; yet nothing is more certain than what I\nhave had the honour to tell you.\n\nI can assure your majesty it is the king of Persia, named Beder, son of\nthe celebrated Gulnare, princess of one of the largest kingdoms of the\nsea, nephew of Saleh, king of that kingdom, and grand-child of queen\nFarasche, mother of Gulnare and Saleh; and it was the princess Giahaure,\ndaughter of the king of Samarcand, who thus metamorphosed him into a\nbird. Moreover, that the king might no longer doubt of what she affirmed,\nshe told him the whole story, as how, and for what reason, the princess\nGiahaure had thus revenged herself for the ill treatment which king Saleh\nhad used towards the king of Samarcand, her father.\n\nThe king had the less difficulty to believe this assertion of the\nqueen\u2019s, in that he knew her to be a skilful sorceress, perhaps one of\nthe greatest in the world; and as she knew every thing which passed in\nit, he was always timely informed of the designs of the kings his\nneighbours against him, and so prevented them. His majesty had compassion\non the king of Persia, and therefore earnestly besought his queen to\nbreak the enchantment, that he might return to his own form.\n\nThe queen consented to it with great willingness. Sir, said she to the\nking, be pleased to take the bird into your closet, and I will show you a\nthing worthy of the consideration you have for him. The bird, which had\nnever minded eating, by reason of his attentiveness to what the king and\nqueen said, would not give his majesty the trouble to take him, but\nhopped into the closet before him; and the queen came in soon after, with\na pot full of water in her hand. She mumbled over the pot some words,\nunknown to the king, till such time as the water began to boil; when she\ntook some of it in her hand, and sprinkling a little upon the bird, said,\nBy virtue of these holy and mysterious words I am going to pronounce, and\nin the name of the Creator both of heaven and earth, who raises the dead,\nand maintains the universe in its distinct state, quit that form of a\nbird, and reassume that form which thou receivedst from thy Creator.\n\nThe words were scarce out of the queen\u2019s mouth, when, instead of a bird,\nthe king saw a young prince of good shape, air, and mien. King Beder\nimmediately fell on his knees, and thanked God for the mercy that had\nbeen bestowed upon him. Then he took the king\u2019s hand, who helped him up,\nand kissed it as a token of his acknowledgment; but the king embraced him\nwith a great deal of joy, and testified to him the great satisfaction he\nhad to see him. He would then have paid his acknowledgments to the queen,\nbut she was already retired to her apartment. The king made him sit at\nthe table with him, and after supper was over, he prayed him to relate to\nhim how the princess Giahaure had had the inhumanity to transform him\ninto a bird, so agreeable and amiable a prince as he was; and the king of\nPersia immediately applied himself to satisfy him. When he had done, the\nking, disdaining the proceeding of the princess, could not help blaming\nher. It was commendable, said he, in the princess of Samarcand, not to be\ninsensible of the king her father\u2019s ill treatment; but to carry her\nvengeance so far, and especially against one that was not culpable, was\nby no means to be excused, and she will never be able to justify herself.\nBut let us have done with this discourse, and tell me, I beseech you, in\nwhat I can farther serve you.\n\nSir, answered king Beder, my obligation to your majesty has been so\ngreat, that I ought to remain with you all my life-time to testify my\nacknowledgments; but since your majesty has set no limits to your\ngenerosity, I humbly entreat you to grant me one of your ships to\ntransport me to Persia, where I fear my absence, which has been but too\nlong, may have occasioned some disorder; and moreover, that the queen my\nmother, from whom I concealed my departure, may be dead of grief, under\nthe uncertainty she must needs be of my life or of my death.\n\nThe king granted what he desired with all the good will imaginable, and\nimmediately gave orders for equipping one of his largest ships and best\nsailers in all his numerous fleet. The ship was soon furnished with all\nits complement of men, provisions, and ammunition; and as soon as the\nwind became fair, king Beder embarked, after having taken leave of the\nking, and thanked him for all his favours.\n\nThe ship sailed before the wind for ten days together, which made it\nadvance considerably. The eleventh day the wind changed, and becoming\nvery violent, there followed a furious tempest. The ship was not only\ndriven out of its course, but so grievously agitated, that all its masts\nwere thrown overboard; and driving along at the pleasure of the wind, it\nat length struck against a rock and bulged.\n\nThe greatest part of the people were drowned, though some few were saved\nby swimming, and others by getting on pieces of the wreck. King Beder was\none of the last; when, after having been tossed about for some time under\ngreat uncertainty of his fate, he at length perceived himself near the\nshore, and not far from a city that seemed large. He used his utmost\nendeavours to reach the land, and was at length so fortunate to come so\nnear as to be able to touch the ground with his feet. He then immediately\nabandoned his piece of wood, which had been of so great service to him;\nbut when he came pretty near the shore, he was greatly surprised to see\nhorses, camels, mules, asses, oxen, cows, bulls, and other animals,\ncrowding towards the shore, and putting themselves in a posture to oppose\nhis landing. He had all the difficulty in the world to conquer their\nobstinacy, and force his way; but at length he did it, which when done,\nhe sheltered himself among the rocks till such time as he had recovered\nhis breath, and dried his clothes in the sun.\n\nWhen the prince advanced to enter the city, he met with the same\nopposition from these animals, who seemed to intend to make him forego\nhis design, and give him to understand it was dangerous to proceed.\n\nKing Beder, however, got into the city soon after, and saw many fair and\nspacious streets, but was surprised to find never a man there. This made\nhim think it was not without a cause that so many animals had opposed his\npassage. Going forward, nevertheless, he observed divers shops open,\nwhich gave him reason to believe the place was not destitute of\ninhabitants, as he imagined. He approached one of these shops, where\nseveral sorts of fruits were exposed to sale, and saluted very\ncourteously an old man that was sitting there.\n\nThe old man, who was busy about something, suddenly lifted up his head,\nand seeing a youth that showed some grandeur in his air, started, and\nasked him whence he came, and what business had brought him hither. King\nBeder satisfied him in a few words; and the old man farther asked him, if\nhe had met any body on the road. You are the first person I have seen,\nanswered the king; and I cannot comprehend how so fine and large a city\ncomes to be without inhabitants. Come in, sir, stay no longer on the\nthreshold, replied the old man, or peradventure some misfortune may\nhappen to you. I will satisfy your curiosity at leisure, and give you a\nreason why it is necessary you should take this precaution.\n\nKing Beder would not be bid twice. He entered the shop, and sat himself\ndown by the old man. The old man, who had learned from him an account of\nhis misfortunes, knew he must needs want nourishment, therefore\nimmediately presented him with what was necessary to recover his spirits;\nand, although king Beder was very earnest to know why he gave him that\nprecaution before he entered the shop, he would nevertheless not be\nprevailed upon to tell him any thing till he had done eating, for fear\nthe sad things he had to relate might balk his appetite. In a word, when\nhe found he ate no longer, he said to him, You have great reason to thank\nGod you got hither without any ill accident. Alas! why? replied king\nBeder, very much surprised and alarmed.\n\nBecause, answered he, this city is the city of enchantments, and governed\nnot by a king, but a queen, who is not only one of the finest women of\nher sex, but likewise a dangerous sorceress. You will be convinced of\nthis, added he, when you come to know that these horses, mules, and other\nanimals that you have seen, are so many men like you and me, whom she has\ntransformed by her diabolical art: and for young men like you only, that\ncome to enter into the city, she has hired servants to stop and bring\nthem, either by good will or force, before her. She receives them with\nall the seeming civility in the world: she caresses them, she treats and\nlodges them magnificently, and gives them so many reasons to believe that\nshe loves them, that they think they cannot be mistaken. But she does not\nsuffer them to enjoy long their happiness. Not one of them but she has\ntransformed into some animal or bird, within the space of forty days. You\ntold me those animals presented themselves to oppose your landing, and\nhinder your entering the city; and I must now tell you they were your\nfriends, and what they did was to make you comprehend the danger you were\ngoing to expose yourself to.\n\nThis account afflicted exceedingly the young king of Persia. Alas! cried\nhe out aloud, to what extremities has my ill fortune reduced me! I am\nhardly freed from one enchantment, which I look back upon with horror,\nbut I incur another much more terrible to me. This gave him occasion to\nrelate his story to the old man much more at length, and to acquaint him\nof his birth and quality, his passion for the princess of Samarcand, and\nher cruelty in changing him into a bird, the very moment he came to see\nand declare his love to her.\n\nWhen the prince came to that passage where he spoke of his good fortune\nin finding a queen that broke the enchantment, the old man said to him,\nNotwithstanding all I have told you of the magic queen being true, yet\nthat ought not to give you the least disquiet, since I am generally\nbeloved throughout the city, and am not even unknown to the queen\nherself, who has no small respect for me; therefore it was your peculiar\nhappiness to address yourself to me rather than elsewhere. You are secure\nin my house, where I advise you to continue, if you think fit; and,\nprovided, you do not stray from hence, I dare assure you, you will have\nno just cause to complain of my breach of faith; so that you are under no\nsort of constraint whatsoever.\n\nKing Beder thanked the old man for his kind reception of him, and the\nprotection he was pleased to afford him. Then he sat down at the entrance\ninto the shop, where he no sooner appeared, than his youth and good mien\ndrew the eyes of all that passed that way on him. Many stopped and\ncomplimented the old man on his having so fine a slave, as they imagined\nthe king to be; and they could not comprehend how so beautiful a youth\ncould escape the queen\u2019s knowledge. Believe not, said the old man, this\nis a slave: you all know I am not rich enough to have one of this\nconsequence: he is my nephew, son of a brother of mine that is dead; and\nas I had no children of my own, I sent for him to keep me company. They\nall congratulated his good fortune, in having so fine a young man for his\nrelation; but withal told him, they feared the queen would take him from\nhim. You know her well, said they to him; and you cannot be ignorant of\nthe danger you expose yourself and nephew to, after all the examples you\nhave seen of the kind. How grieved would you be, if she should serve you\nas she has done so many others!\n\nI am obliged to you, gentlemen, replied the old man, for your good will\ntowards me, and I thank you for the care you seem to take of my interest;\nbut I shall never entertain the least thought that the queen will do me\nany injury, after all the kindness she has professed for me. In case she\nhappens to hear of this young man, and speaks to me about him, I doubt\nnot but she will be contented to excuse him, as soon as she comes to know\nhe is my nephew.\n\nThe old man was exceedingly glad to hear the commendations they bestowed\non the young king of Persia. He was as much affected with them as if he\nhad been his own son; and he conceived such a kindness for him, as\naugmented every day during the stay he made with him. They lived about a\nmonth together, when king Beder, sitting at the shop-door after his\nordinary manner, queen Labe (so was this magic queen\u2019s name) happened to\ncome by with great pomp. The young king no sooner perceived the guards\ncoming, who marched before her, than he arose, and going into the shop,\nasked the old man what all that show meant. The queen is coming by,\nanswered he; but stand you still, and fear nothing.\n\nThe queen\u2019s guards, clothed in purple, and well armed and mounted,\nmarched in four files, with their sabres drawn, to the number of a\nthousand, and not one of their officers but, as they passed by the shop,\nsaluted the old man. Then followed a like number of eunuchs habited in\nbrocade silk, and better mounted, whose officers did the old man the like\nhonours. Next came as many young ladies on foot, equally beautiful,\nrichly dressed, and set off with precious stones. They marched gravely,\nwith half pikes in their hands; and in the midst of them appeared queen\nLabe, on a horse all glittering with diamonds, with a golden saddle, and\na housing of inestimable price. All the young ladies saluted the old man\nas they passed by him; and the queen, moved with the good mien of king\nBeder, stopped as soon as she came over-against the shop. Abdallah, (so\nwas the old man\u2019s name,) said she to him, tell me, I beseech thee, does\nthat beautiful and charming slave belong to thee, and is it long that\nthou hast been in possession of him?\n\nAbdallah, before he answered the queen, threw himself on the ground, and\nrising again, said, Madam, he is my nephew, son of a brother I had, who\nhas been dead for some time. Having no children, I look upon him as my\nson, and sent for him to come and comfort me, intending to leave him what\nI have when I die.\n\nQueen Labe, who had never yet seen any one that pleased her so well as\nking Beder, and who began to conceive a mighty passion for him, thought\nimmediately of getting the old man to abandon him to her. Father, quoth\nshe, will not you oblige me so far as to make me a present of this young\nman? Do not refuse me, I conjure you; and I swear by the fire and the\nlight, I will make him as great and powerful as ever private man was in\nthe world. Although my design be to do evil to all mankind, yet he shall\nbe the sole exception. I trust you will grant me what I desire, more on\naccount of the friendship you have for me, than the esteem you know I\nhave always had, and shall ever have, for your person.\n\nMadam, replied the good Abdallah, I am infinitely obliged to your majesty\nfor all the kindness you have for me, and the honours you propose to do\nmy nephew. He is not worthy to approach so great a queen, and I humbly\nbeseech your majesty to excuse him.\n\nAbdallah, replied the queen, I all along flattered myself you loved me,\nand I could never have thought you would have given me so evident a token\nof your slighting my request: but I swear once more by the fire and\nlight, and even by whatsoever is most sacred in my religion, that I will\npass on no farther until I have conquered thy obstinacy. I understand\nvery well what raises fears in thee; but I here promise, thou shalt never\nhave any occasion to repent thy having trusted me.\n\nOld Abdallah was exceedingly grieved, in relation to king Beder and\nhimself, for being in a manner forced to obey the queen. Madam,\ntherefore, replied he, I would not willingly have your majesty have an\nill opinion of the sincere respect I have for you, but would always\ncontribute whatever I can to oblige you: I put an entire confidence in\nyour royal word, and I do not in the least doubt but you will keep it: I\nonly beg of your majesty to delay doing this great honour to my nephew\ntill you shall again pass by this way. That shall be to-morrow, quoth the\nqueen; and so saying, she inclined her head, as a token of her being\npleased, and so went forward towards her palace.\n\nWhen queen Labe and all her attendants were out of sight, the good\nAbdallah said to king Beder, Son, (for so he was wont to call him, for\nfear of some time or other betraying himself in public,) it has not been\nin my power, as you may have observed, to refuse the queen what she\ndemanded of me with so great earnestness, to the end I might not force\nher to an extremity of employing her magic both against you and myself.\nBut I have some reason to believe she will use you well, as she promised,\non account of that particular esteem she professes for me. This you may\nhave seen, by the respect both she and all her court paid me. She would\nbe a cursed creature indeed, if she should deceive me; but in case she\nshould, she shall not deceive me unrevenged, for I know how to be even\nwith her.\n\nAll these assurances, which appeared very doubtful, were not sufficient\nto support king Beder\u2019s spirits. After all you have told me of this\nqueen\u2019s wickedness, replied he, you cannot wonder if I am somewhat\nfearful to approach her. I should, it may be, slight all you could tell\nme of her, and suffer myself to be dazzled by the lustre of grandeur that\nsurrounds her, if I had not already been at the mercy of a sorceress. The\ncondition I was in, through the enchantment of the princess Giahaure, and\nfrom whence I was delivered only to enter anew into another, has made me\nlook upon such a fate with horror. His tears hindered him from going on\nany farther, and sufficiently showed with what repugnance he held himself\nin a manner under a fatal necessity of being delivered to queen Labe.\n\nSon, replied old Abdallah, do not afflict yourself; for though I must own\nthere is no great stress to be laid upon the oaths and promises of so\nperfidious a queen, yet I must withal acquaint you, her power extends no\nfarther than I am pleased to permit it: she knows it full well herself;\nand that is the reason, and no other, that she pays me so great respect.\nI can quickly hinder her from doing you the least harm, though she should\nbe perfidious enough to attempt it. You may entirely depend upon me; and,\nprovided you follow exactly the advice I shall give you before I abandon\nyou to her, she shall have no more power over you than she has over me.\n\nThe magic queen did not fail to pass by the old man\u2019s shop the next day,\nwith the same pomp she had done the day before; and Abdallah waited for\nher with great respect. Father, cried she, stopping just against him, you\nmay judge of my impatience to have your nephew with me, by my punctual\ncoming to put you in mind of your promise: I know you are a man of your\nword, and I cannot think you will break it with me.\n\nAbdallah, who fell on his knees as soon as he saw the queen approaching,\nrose up when she had done speaking; and as he would have nobody hear what\nhe had a mind to say to her, he advanced with great respect as far as her\nhorse\u2019s head, and then said softly, Puissant queen! I am persuaded your\nmajesty will not be offended at my seeming unwillingness to trust my\nnephew with you yesterday, since you cannot be ignorant of the reasons I\nhad for it; but I conjure you to lay aside the secrets of that art which\nyou possess in so wonderful a degree. I respect my nephew as my own son;\nand your majesty would reduce me to the utmost despair, if you should\nthink fit to deal with him as you have done with others.\n\nI promise you once more I will not, replied the queen; and I once more\nrepeat the oath I made yesterday, that neither you nor your nephew shall\nhave any cause to be offended at me. I see plainly, added she, you are\nnot yet well enough acquainted with me: you never saw me yet but through\na veil; but as I find your nephew worthy of my friendship, I will show\nyou I am not any wise unworthy of his. With that she threw off her veil,\nand discovered to king Beder, who came near her with Abdallah, an\nincomparable face: but king Beder was little charmed. It is not enough,\nsaid he within himself, to be beautiful; one\u2019s actions ought to\ncorrespond in regularity with one\u2019s features.\n\nWhile king Beder was making these reflections, with his eyes fixed on\nqueen Labe, the old man turned towards him, and, taking him by the arm,\npresented him to her majesty, saying, Here he is, madam; and I beg of\nyour majesty once more to remember he is my nephew, and to let him come\nand see me sometimes. The queen promised he should; and, to give a\nfarther assurance of her acknowledgment, she caused a bag of a thousand\npieces of gold to be given him. He excused himself at first from\nreceiving them; but she insisted absolutely upon it, and he could not\nrefuse her. She had caused a horse to be brought, as richly harnessed and\nset out as her own, for the king of Persia. While he was mounting him, I\nforgot, said the queen to Abdallah, to ask you your nephew\u2019s name; pray\nhow is he called? He answered, his name was Beder, (The Full Moon); and\nher majesty replied, Sure his ancestors were mistaken; they ought to have\ngiven him the name of Shems, (The Sun).\n\nWhen king Beder was mounted, he would have taken his post behind the\nqueen; but she would not suffer him, and made him to ride on her left\nhand. She looked upon Abdallah; and, after having made him an inclination\nwith her head, she set forward on her march.\n\nInstead of observing a satisfaction in the people\u2019s faces at the sight of\ntheir sovereign, king Beder took notice that they rather despised and\ncursed her. The sorceress, said some, has got a new subject to exercise\nher wickedness upon: will Heaven never deliver the world from her\ntyranny? Poor stranger, cried out others, thou art much deceived if thou\nthinkest thy happiness will last long: it is to render thy fall more\nterrible, that she has raised thee so high. This talk gave king Beder to\nunderstand Abdallah had told him nothing but the truth of queen Labe; but\nas he no longer depended on him, he had recourse to divine Providence to\nfree him from the danger he was got into.\n\nThe magic queen arrived at her palace, whither she was no sooner come,\nthan she alighted, and, giving her hand to king Beder, entered with him,\naccompanied by her women and the officers of her eunuchs. She herself\nshowed him all her apartments, where there was nothing to be seen but\nmassy gold, precious stones, and furniture of wonderful magnificence.\nWhen she had carried him into her closet, she led him out into a balcony,\nfrom whence he observed a garden of surprising beauty. King Beder\ncommended all he saw, with a great deal of wit, but nevertheless in such\na manner that he might not be discovered to be any other than old\nAbdallah\u2019s nephew. They discoursed of divers indifferent matters, till\nsuch time as news was brought the queen that dinner was upon the table.\n\nThe queen and king Beder arose, and went to place themselves at table,\nwhich was of pure massy gold, and the plates of the same. They began to\neat, but did not drink till almost the dessert came, when the queen\ncaused a cup to be filled with excellent wine: she took it, and drank to\nking Beder\u2019s health; and then causing it to be filled again, presented it\nto him. King Beder received it with profound respect, and, by a very low\nbow, signified to her majesty that he likewise drank to her health.\n\nSoon after, ten of queen Labe\u2019s women entered with musical instruments,\nwith which, accompanied with their voices, they made an agreeable concert\nduring the whole drinking, which continued till late at night. At length\nthey began to be so heated with wine, that king Beder insensibly forgot\nhe had to do with a magic queen, and looked upon her only as the finest\nwoman he ever saw. As soon as the queen perceived she had wrought him to\nthe pitch she desired, she made a sign to her eunuchs and women to\nretire. They obeyed; and king Beder and she went and lay together all\nnight.\n\nNext morning the queen and king Beder went to the bagnio; and as soon as\nthey came out, the women who had served the king there, presented him\nwith fine linen and a magnificent habit. The queen likewise, who was more\nsplendidly dressed than the day before, came to receive him, and they\nwent together to her apartment, where they had a good repast brought\nbefore them, and spent the remainder of the day in walking and other\namusements.\n\nQueen Labe treated king Beder after this manner for forty days, as she\nhad been accustomed to do all her lovers. The fortieth night, as they\nwere lying together, she, believing he was really asleep, arose without\nmaking any noise; but he was awake, and perceiving she had some design\nupon him, watched all her motions. Being up, she opened a chest, from\nwhence she took a little box, full of a certain yellow powder. Taking\nsome of the powder, she laid a train of it across the chamber, and\nimmediately flowed in a rivulet of water, to the great astonishment of\nking Beder. He trembled with fear, but still pretended to sleep, that he\nmight not discover to the sorceress he was awake.\n\nQueen Labe next took up some of the water in a pot, and poured it into a\nbasin where there was flour, with which she made paste, and kneaded it\nfor a long time: then she mixed certain drugs with it, which she took\nfrom different boxes, and made a cake, and put it into a covered\nbaking-pan. As she had taken care at first to make a good fire, she took\nsome of the coals, and set the pan upon them; and as the cake was baking,\nshe put up her pot and boxes again; and at the pronouncing of certain\nwords, dismissed the rivulet, which appeared no more. When the cake was\nbaked, she took it off the coals, and carried it into her closet, and\nafterwards returned to bed again to king Beder, who dissembled the matter\nso well with her, that she had not the least suspicion that he knew any\nthing of what she had done.\n\nKing Beder, whom the pleasures and delights of a court had made to forget\nhis good host Abdallah, began now to think of him again, and believed he\nhad more than ordinary occasion for his advice at this juncture, since he\nsaw all the queen had done that night. As soon as he was up, therefore,\nhe expressed a great desire to go and see his uncle, and begged of her\nmajesty to permit him. Alas! my dear Beder, cried the queen, are you then\nalready tired, I will not say with the pleasures of so superfine a palace\nas mine is, but with the company of a queen who loves you so passionately\nas I do?\n\nGreat queen, answered king Beder, how can I be tired with so many favours\nand graces as your majesty perpetually heaps upon me? Very far from that,\nI desire this permission, madam, purely to go and give my uncle an\naccount of the mighty obligations I have to your majesty. I must own\nlikewise it is partly in this respect, that my uncle loving me so\ntenderly, as it is very well known he does, and I having been from him\nnow forty days, without so much as once seeing him, he will surely take\nit very unkindly if I cannot afford him one visit. Go, said the queen, I\nconsent to it; but you will not be long before you return, if you\nconsider I cannot possibly live without you. This said, she ordered him a\nfine horse richly caparisoned, and so he departed.\n\nOld Abdallah was overjoyed to see his dear adopted son again; insomuch\nthat, without regard to his quality, he embraced him heartily, and king\nBeder returned the like, that nobody might doubt but that he was his\nnephew. As soon as they were sat down, Well, said Abdallah to the king,\nhow do you do, sir? and how have you passed your time with that infidel\nsorceress?\n\nHitherto, answered king Beder, I must needs own she has been\nextraordinary kind to me, and has done all she could to persuade me that\nshe loves me entirely; but I observed something last night, which gives\nme just reason to suspect that all her kindness hitherto is but\ndissimulation. Whilst she thought me asleep, although I was really awake,\nshe stole from me with a great deal of precaution, which made me suspect\nher intention, and therefore I resolved to watch her. Going on with his\ndiscourse, he related to Abdallah how, and after what manner, he had seen\nher make the cake; and then added, Hitherto, said he, I must needs\nconfess I had almost forgot, not only you, but all the advice you gave me\nconcerning the wickedness of this queen: but this last action of hers\ngives me reason to fear she neither intends to observe any of her oaths\nnor promises. I thought of you immediately, and esteem myself happy in\nthat I have obtained permission to come to you.\n\nYou are not deceived in this wicked queen, replied old Abdallah with a\nsmile, to show he did not himself believe she would observe one word she\nspoke, nor oath she made; nothing is capable of obliging a perfidious\nwoman to mend her morals. But fear nothing; I have a way to make the\nmischief she intends you fall upon herself. You are become jealous in\ntime; and you could not have done better than this, to have recourse to\nme. It is her ordinary practice to keep her lovers only forty days; and\nafter that time, instead of sending them home, to turn them into animals\nto stock her forests and parks; but I thought of measures yesterday to\nprevent her doing any harm. The earth has borne this monster long enough,\nand it is now high time she should be served as she deserves.\n\nSo saying, Abdallah put two cakes into king Beder\u2019s hands, bidding him\nkeep them to make use of as he should direct. You told me, continued he,\nthe sorceress made a cake last night: it was for you to eat of, depend\nupon it, but take great care you do not touch it. Nevertheless, do not\nrefuse to receive it when she offers it you; but, instead of tasting it,\nbreak off part of one of the two that I gave you, unobserved, and eat\nthat. As soon as she thinks you have swallowed it, she will not fail to\nattempt transforming you into some animal, but she shall not succeed;\nwhich when she sees, she will immediately turn the thing to pleasantry,\nas if what she had done was only to frighten you; but she will conceal a\nmortal aversion in her heart, and think her having failed proceeded only\nfrom the want of something in the composition of her cake. As for the\ncake she made, and which she will not know to be her own, you shall make\na present of it to her, and press her to eat it; which she will not\nrefuse to do, if it were only to convince you she does not mistrust you,\nthough she has given you so much reason to mistrust her. When she has\nquite eaten it, take a little water in the hollow of your hand, and,\nthrowing it in her face, say, Quit that form you now wear, and take that\nof such or such an animal, as you shall think fit; which done, come to me\nwith the animal, and I will tell you what you shall do afterwards.\n\nKing Beder made all possible acknowledgments to old Abdallah, for the\ngreat obligations he had to him, for defending him from the wiles of a\npestilent sorceress who sought to ruin him; and after some little\ndiscourse, he took his leave of him and returned to the palace. Upon his\narrival, he understood that the queen waited for him with great\nimpatience in the garden. He went to pay his respects to her, and she no\nsooner perceived him, than she came in great haste to meet him. My dear\nBeder! said she, it is said, with a great deal of reason, that nothing\nmoves more the force and excess of love than absence from the object\nbeloved. I have had no quiet since I saw you, and the minutes I have been\nseparated from you have seemed so many ages; nay, if you had staid ever\nso little longer, I was preparing to come and fetch you once more to my\narms.\n\nMadam, replied king Beder, I can assure your majesty that I have not been\nunder less disquiets on your account; but I could not refuse to stay a\nlittle longer than ordinary with an uncle who loves me so dearly, and had\nnot seen me for so long a while. He would have kept me still longer, but\nI tore myself away from him to come and pay my vows where they are so\nmuch due. Of all the collations he prepared for me, I have only brought\naway this cake, which I desire your majesty to accept. King Beder had\nwrapped up one of the two cakes in a handkerchief very neatly, took it\nout, and presented it to the queen, saying, I beg your majesty to accept\nof it, though it be so inconsiderable a present.\n\nI do accept of it with all my heart, replied the queen, receiving it, and\nwill eat it cheerfully for yours and your good uncle\u2019s sake: but before I\ntaste of it, I desire you will eat a piece of mine, which I have made for\nyou during your absence. Fair queen, answered king Beder, receiving it\nwith great respect, such hands as your majesty\u2019s can never make any thing\nbut what is excellent; and the favour hereby done me will exact an\neternal acknowledgment.\n\nKing Beder then substituted, in the place of the queen\u2019s cake, the other\nwhich old Abdallah had given him, and having broken off a piece, he put\nit to his mouth, and cried, while he was eating, Ah! queen, I never\ntasted any thing so charming in my life. They being near a cascade, the\nsorceress seeing him swallow one bit of the cake, and ready to eat\nanother, she took a little water in the palm of her hand, and throwing it\non the king\u2019s face, said, Wretch! quit that form of a man thou bearest,\nand take that of a vile horse, lame and blind.\n\nThese words not having the desired effect, the sorceress was strangely\nsurprised to find king Beder still in the same form, and that he only\nstarted, being a little frightened. Blushes came suddenly into her\ncheeks; and as she saw that she had missed her aim, Dear Beder, cries\nshe, this is nothing, recover thyself; I did not intend thee any harm;\nwhat I did, was only to see what thou wouldst say. I should be the most\nmiserable and execrable of women, should I attempt aught against thy\ntranquillity; I do not only say, after all the oaths I made to the\ncontrary, but even after so many testimonies of love as I have given\nthee.\n\nPuissant queen, replied king Beder, however well satisfied I were, that\nwhat your majesty did was only to divert yourself, yet I could not help\nbeing a little frightened with the surprise. Also, what could hinder me\nfrom being a little moved at the pronouncing of such terrible words, as\nare capable of making so strange a transformation? But, madam, continued\nhe, let us set aside this discourse; and since I have ate of your cake, I\ndesire you would do me the like favour by tasting of mine.\n\nQueen Labe, who could no better justify herself than by putting this\nconfidence in the king of Persia, broke off a piece of his cake and ate\nit; which she had no sooner done, than she appeared much troubled, and\nremained, as it were, motionless. King Beder, seeing his time, took water\nout of the same basin she had done, and, throwing it in her face, cried,\nAbominable sorceress! quit that form of a woman, and be turned instantly\ninto a mare.\n\nThe same instant queen Labe was transformed into a very beautiful mare;\nand she was so concerned to find herself in that condition, that she shed\ntears in great abundance, which perhaps no mare before had been ever\nknown to do. She bowed her head with great obeisance to king Beder,\nthinking to move him to compassion; but, though he could have been so\nmoved, it was absolutely out of his power to repair the damage he had\ndone her. He led her then into the stable belonging to the palace, and\nput her into the hands of a groom, to bridle and saddle; but of all the\nbridles he tried upon her, not one would fit her. This made him cause two\nhorses to be saddled, one for the groom and the other for himself; and\nthe groom led the mare after him to old Abdallah\u2019s.\n\nAbdallah, seeing king Beder coming with the mare at a distance, doubted\nnot but he had done what he advised him. Cursed sorceress! said he\nimmediately to himself very joyfully. Heaven has at length punished thee\nas thou deservest. King Beder alighted at Abdallah\u2019s door, and entered\nwith him into the shop embracing and thanking him for all the signal\nservices he had done him. He related to him the whole matter, with all\nits circumstances; and moreover told him, he could find no bridle fit for\nthe mare. Abdallah found one that fitted exactly; and as soon as king\nBeder had sent back the groom, he said to him, My lord, you have no\nreason to stay any longer in this city; take the mare, mount her, and\nreturn to your kingdom. I have but one thing more to recommend to you;\nand that is, if ever you should happen to part with the mare, be sure to\ndeliver her bridle. King Beder promised to observe all his commands, and\nthis especially; and so, having taken leave of the good old man, he\ndeparted.\n\nThe young king of Persia no sooner got out of the city, than he began to\nreflect on the deliverance he had had, and to rejoice he had the\nsorceress in his power, who had given him so much cause to tremble. Three\ndays after, he arrived at a great city, where, entering the suburbs, he\nmet a venerable old man, walking on foot towards a pleasure-house he had\nhard by: Sir, said the old man to him, stopping, may I presume to ask\nfrom what part of the world you come? The king stopped to satisfy him;\nand, as they were discoursing together, an old woman chanced to come by,\nwho, stopping likewise, wept and sighed bitterly at the sight of the\nmare.\n\nKing Beder and the old man left off discoursing, to look on the old\nwoman, whom the king asked, whom she had to lament so much. Alas! sir,\nreplied she, It is because your mare resembles so perfectly one my son\nhad, and which I still mourn the loss of on this account, and should\nthink yours were the same, did I not know she was dead. Sell her to me,\nsir, I beseech you, and I will give you even more than she is worth, for\nthe sake of the person that once owned her likeness.\n\nGood woman, replied king Beder, I am heartily sorry I cannot comply with\nyour request; my mare is not to be sold. Alas! sir, continued the old\nwoman, do not refuse me this favour, for the love of God. I conjure you\nto do it out of pure charity, since my son and I shall certainly die with\ngrief if you do not grant it. Good mother, replied the king, I would\ngrant it with all my heart, if I was disposed to part with so good a\nbeast; but if I were so disposed, I believe you would hardly give a\nthousand pieces of gold for her, which is the lowest price I shall ever\nput upon her. Why should I not give so much? replied the old woman: if\nthat be the lowest price, you need only say you will take it, and I will\nfetch you the money.\n\nKing Beder, seeing the old woman so poorly dressed, could not imagine she\ncould find the money; therefore, to try her, he said, not thinking to\npart with his mare for all that, Go fetch me the money, and the mare is\nyours. The old woman immediately unloosed a purse she had fastened to her\ngirdle, and desiring him to alight, bade him tell over the money: and, in\ncase he found it came short of the sum demanded, her house was not far\noff, and she could quickly fetch the rest.\n\nThe surprise king Beder was in at the sight of this purse was not small.\nGood woman, said he, do you not perceive I have bantered you all this\nwhile? I will assure you my mare is not to be sold.\n\nThe old man, who had been witness to all that was said, now began to\nspeak: Son, quoth he to king Beder, it is necessary you should know one\nthing, which I find you are ignorant of; and that is, that in this city\nit is not permitted any one to lie, on any account whatsoever, and that\non pain of death: now, you having made this bargain with this old woman,\nyou must not refuse her money, and delivering your mare according to the\nagreement; and this you had better do without any noise, than expose\nyourself to what may ensue.\n\nKing Beder, sorely afflicted to find himself thus trapped by his rash\nproffer, was nevertheless forced to alight and perform his agreement. The\nold woman stood ready to seize the bridle; which when she had done, she\nimmediately unbridled the mare, and taking some water in her hand from a\nspring that ran in the middle of the street, she threw it in the mare\u2019s\nface, uttering these words: Daughter, quit that bestial form, and\nreassume thy own. The transformation was effected in a moment; and king\nBeder, who swooned as soon as he saw queen Labe appear, would have fallen\nto the ground, if the old man had not hindered him.\n\nThe old woman, who was mother to queen Labe, and who had instructed her\nin all her magic, had no sooner embraced her daughter, than in an\ninstant, she, by whistling, caused a genie to rise, of a gigantic form\nand stature: this genie immediately took king Beder on one shoulder, and\nthe old woman with the magic queen on the other, and transported them in\na few minutes to the palace of queen Labe, in the city of enchantments.\n\nThe magic queen immediately fell upon king Beder, reproaching him\ngrievously, in the following manner: Is it thus, ungrateful wretch, that\nthy unworthy uncle and thou make me amends for all the kindnesses I have\ndone for you? I shall soon be able to make you both feel what you so well\ndeserve. She said no more, but, taking water in her hand, threw it in his\nface, with these words, Come out of that form, and take that of a vile\nowl. These words were soon followed by the effect; and immediately she\ncommanded one of her women to shut up the owl in a cage, and give him\nneither meat nor drink.\n\nThe woman took the cage, and, without regarding what the queen ordered,\ngave him both meat and drink; and being old Abdallah\u2019s friend, she sent\nhim word privately how the queen had treated his nephew, and what design\nshe had taken to destroy him and king Beder, in case he did not take\ntimely measures to prevent it.\n\nAbdallah knew no common measures would do with queen Labe; he therefore\ndid but whistle after a certain manner, and there immediately rose a vast\ngiant, with four wings, who presented himself before him, and asked what\nhe would have with him. Lightning, said Abdallah to him, (for so was the\ngenie\u2019s name,) I command you to preserve the life of king Beder, son of\nthe queen Gulnare. Go to the palace of the magic queen, and transport\nimmediately to the capital of Persia the compassionate woman who has the\ncage in custody, that she may inform queen Gulnare of the danger the king\nher son is in, and the occasion he has of her assistance. Take care not\nto fright her when you come before her, and acquaint her from me what she\nought to do.\n\nLightning immediately disappeared, and got in an instant to the palace of\nthe magic queen. He instructed the woman, lifted her up into the air, and\ntransported her to the capital of Persia, where he placed her on the\nterrace of the apartment where queen Gulnare was. She went down stairs to\nthe apartment, and she there found queen Gulnare and queen Farasche,\nlamenting their mutual misfortunes. She made them a profound reverence,\nand, by the relation she gave them, they soon came to understand the\ngreat necessity king Beder was in of their assistance.\n\nQueen Gulnare was so overjoyed at the news, that, rising from her seat,\nshe went and embraced the good woman, telling her how much she was\nobliged to her for the service she had done her.\n\nThen going immediately out, she commanded the trumpets to sound and the\ndrums to beat, to acquaint the city, that the king of Persia would\nsuddenly return safe to his kingdom. She then went again, and found king\nSaleh her brother, whom Farasche had caused to come speedily thither, by\na certain fumigation. Brother, said she to him, the king your nephew, and\nmy dear son, is in the city of enchantments, under the power of queen\nLabe. Both you and I must see what we can do to deliver him, for there is\nno time to be lost.\n\nKing Saleh forthwith assembled a puissant body of sea-troops, and even\ncalled to his assistance the genies his allies, who appeared with a much\nmore numerous army. As soon as the two armies were joined, he put himself\nat the head of them, together with queen Farasche, queen Gulnare, and the\nprincesses, who would all have their share in this glorious action. They\nthen lifted themselves up into the air, and soon poured down on the\npalace and city of enchantments, where the magic queen, her mother, and\nall the other adorers of fire, were destroyed in an instant.\n\nQueen Gulnare had ordered the woman who brought her the news of queen\nLabe\u2019s transforming and imprisoning her son, to follow her close, and\nbade her, in her hurly-burly, to take no other care than to go and seize\nthe cage, and bring it to her. She did as she was ordered, and queen\nGulnare was no sooner in the possession of the cage, than she opened it,\nand took the owl out, saying, after she had sprinkled a little water upon\nhim, My dear son, quit that foreign form which has been given thee, and\nresume thy natural one of a man. In a moment queen Gulnare no more saw\nthe hideous owl, but king Beder her son instead of him. She immediately\nembraced him with that excess of joy which is better expressed by actions\nthan words. She could not find in her heart to let him go; and, if he had\nnot been in a manner torn from her by queen Farasche, who had a mind to\nembrace him in her turn, for aught I know, they might not have parted\ntill now, so great queen Gulnare\u2019s affection was for him. After the queen\nhis grandmother had done with him, he was likewise embraced by the king\nhis uncle, and the princesses his relations.\n\nThe next care queen Gulnare had, was to look out for old Abdallah, to\nwhom she had been obliged for the recovery of the king of Persia; and\nwho, being brought to her, she said to him, My obligations to you, sir,\nhave been so great, that there is nothing within my power but I will\nfreely do for you as a token of my acknowledgment. Do but satisfy me in\nwhat I can serve you; and you shall see I will immediately set about it.\nGreat queen, replied Abdallah, if the lady next to your majesty will but\nconsent to the marriage I offer her, and the king of Persia will give me\nleave to reside at his court, I will spend the remainder of my days in\nhis service. The queen turned towards the lady; and, finding by her\nmodesty that she was not against the match proposed, she caused them to\njoin hands, and the king of Persia and she took care of their fortune.\n\nThis marriage occasioned the king of Persia to speak thus, addressing\nhimself to the queen: Madam, I am heartily glad of this match which your\nmajesty has just now made: there remains one more, which I desire you to\nthink of. Queen Gulnare did not at first comprehend what marriage he\nmeant; but, after a little considering, she said, Of yours do you mean,\nson? I consent to it with all my heart. Then, turning about, and looking\non her brother\u2019s sea-attendants, and the genies, who were still present,\nshe said, Go you, and traverse both the sea and land, to find out the\nmost lovely and amiable princess, worthy of the king my son, and come and\nbring us word.\n\nMadam, replied king Beder, it is to no purpose for them to take all that\npains. You have, no doubt, heard that I have already given my heart to\nthe princess of Samarcand, upon the bare relation of her beauty. I have\nseen her, and do not repent of the present I then made her. In a word,\nneither earth nor sea, in my opinion, can furnish a princess any thing\nlike her. It is true, upon declaring my love to her, she used me after a\nrate that would have extinguished any flame less fierce than mine: but I\nhold her excused; for, after a rigorous treatment, and imprisoning the\nking her father, which I was in some measure the cause of, how could she\nuse me more civilly? But, it may be, the king of Samarcand may have\nchanged his resolution; and his daughter, the princess, may consent to\nlove me, when she sees her father has agreed to it.\n\nSon, replied queen Gulnare, if only the princess Giahaure can make you\nhappy in this world, I shall not make it my business to oppose you. The\nking your uncle need only have the king of Samarcand brought, and we\nshall see whether he be still of the same untractable temper.\n\nHow strictly soever the king of Samarcand had been kept during his\ncaptivity, by king Saleh\u2019s orders, yet he always had great respect shown\nhim, and was become very familiar with the officers that guarded him. In\norder to bring him, king Saleh caused a chafing dish of coals to be\nbrought, into which he threw a certain composition, uttering at the same\ntime some mysterious words. As soon as the smoke began to arise, the\npalace shook, and immediately the king of Samarcand, with king Saleh\u2019s\nofficers, appeared. The king of Persia cast himself at the king of\nSamarcand\u2019s feet; and then, rising upon one knee, he said, It is no\nlonger king Saleh that demands of your majesty the honour of your\nalliance for the king of Persia: it is the king of Persia himself that\nhumbly begs that boon; and I persuade myself your majesty will never\npersist in being the cause of the death of a king, who can no longer live\nthan he is in the possession of the adorable princess Giahaure.\n\nThe king of Samarcand did not long suffer the king of Persia to remain on\nhis knee; he took him up, and embracing him, said, I should be very sorry\nto have contributed in the least towards the death of a monarch who is so\nworthy to live. If it be true that so precious a life cannot be\npreserved, without being in possession of my daughter, live, sir, and\nlive happy; she is yours. She has always hitherto been obedient to my\nwill, and I cannot think she will now oppose it. Speaking these words, he\nordered one of the officers that king Saleh had assigned him, to go and\nlook for the princess Giahaure, and bring her to him immediately.\n\nThe princess continued all this while where the king of Persia had left\nher. The officer brought her with her women to attend her. The king of\nSamarcand embraced her, and said, Daughter, I have provided a husband for\nyou: it is the king of Persia you see there, the most accomplished\nmonarch at this juncture in the universe. The preference he has given you\nto all other princesses obliges us both to make him suitable\nacknowledgments.\n\nSir, replied the princess Giahaure, your majesty well knows I have never\npresumed to disobey your will in any thing: I shall be always ready to\nobey you; and I hope the king of Persia will please to forget the ill\ntreatment I gave him, and consider it was duty, not inclination, that\nforced me to it.\n\nThe nuptials were celebrated in the palace of the city of enchantments,\nwith so much the greater solemnity, as all the lovers of the magic queen,\nwho resumed their pristine forms as soon as ever that queen ceased to\nlive, assisted at them, and came to pay their acknowledgments to the king\nof Persia, queen Gulnare, and king Saleh. They were all either sons of\nkings, or princes of extraordinary merit.\n\nKing Saleh at length conducted the king of Samarcand to his dominions,\nand put him once again in possession of them. The king of Persia, having\nwhat he most desired, returned to his capital with queen Giahaure, queen\nGulnare, queen Farasche, and the princesses; and queen Farasche and the\nprincesses continued there, till such time as king Saleh came to\nre-conduct them to his kingdom under the waves of the sea.\n\n\n\n\n THE STORY OF\n GANEM, SON TO ABOU AYOUB, AND KNOWN BY THE SURNAME OF LOVE\u2019S SLAVE.\n\n\nThere was formerly a merchant at Damascus, who had, by care and industry,\nacquired great wealth, on which he lived in a very honourable manner. His\nname was Abou Ayoub, and he had one son and a daughter. The son was at\nfirst called Ganem, but afterwards had the surname of Love\u2019s Slave. He\nwas graceful as to his person, and the excellent natural qualities of his\nmind had been improved by able masters his father had taken care to\nprovide him. The daughter\u2019s name was Alcolomb, signifying ravisher of\nhearts, because her beauty was so accomplished, that whosoever saw her\ncould not but love her.\n\nAbou Ayoub died, and left immense riches: an hundred loads of brocades,\nand other silks that lay in his warehouse, were the least part of it. The\nloads were ready made up, and on every bale was written, in large\ncharacters, \u201cFor Bagdad.\u201d\n\nMohammed, the son of Soliman, surnamed Zinebi, reigned at that time in\nDamascus, the capital of Syria. His kinsman Haroun Alraschid, whose\nresidence was at Bagdad, had bestowed this kingdom on him as tributary to\nhim.\n\nSoon after the death of Abou Ayoub, Ganem, discoursing with his mother\nabout their private affairs, among the rest, concerning the bales of\nmerchandise that lay in the warehouse, asked her the meaning of what was\nwritten upon each bale. My son, answered his mother, your father used to\ntravel sometimes into one province and sometimes into another, and it was\ncustomary with him, before he set out, to write the name of the city he\ndesigned to repair to on every bale. He had provided all things to take a\njourney to Bagdad, and was upon the point of setting forwards, when\ndeath\u2014\u2014She had not the power to proceed any farther; the lively\nremembrance of the loss of her husband would not permit her to say any\nmore, and drew from her a shower of tears.\n\nGanem could not see his mother so sensibly affected without relenting.\nThus they continued some time in silence; but at length he recovered\nhimself; and, as soon as he found his mother calm enough to listen to\nhim, he directed his discourse to her, and said: Since my father designed\nthese goods for Bagdad, and is no longer in being to put his design in\nexecution, I will prepare myself to perform that journey; and I am of\nopinion, it will be proper for me to expedite my departure, for fear\nthose commodities should perish, or, at least, that we lose the\nopportunity of selling them to the best advantage.\n\nAbou Ayoub\u2019s widow, who tenderly loved her son, was much surprised at\nthis resolution; and replied, My dear child, I cannot but commend you for\ndesigning to follow your father\u2019s example; but consider that you are too\nyoung, inexperienced, and altogether a stranger to the toils of\ntravelling. Besides, can you think of leaving me, and by that means add\nto that sorrow with which I am already oppressed? Is it not better to\nsell those goods to the merchants of Damascus, and to take up with a\nmoderate profit, than to expose yourself to the danger of perishing?\n\nIt was in vain for her to oppose Ganem\u2019s resolution by the strongest\narguments, for they had no weight with him. An inclination to travel, and\nto accomplish himself by a thorough knowledge of the affairs of the\nworld, urged him on to set out, and prevailed above all his mother\u2019s\nremonstrances, her entreaties, and even her tears. He went away to the\nmarket where the slaves are sold, and bought such as were able of body,\nhired one hundred camels, and, having furnished all other necessaries, he\nentered upon his journey, with five or six merchants of Damascus, who\nwere going to trade at Bagdad.\n\nThose merchants, attended by all their slaves, and accompanied by several\nother travellers, made up such a considerable caravan, that they had no\noccasion to fear the Bedouins, that is, the Arabs who make it their only\nprofession to range the country, and to attack and plunder the caravans\nwhich are not strong enough to repulse them. Thus they had no other\ndifficulty to encounter than the usual fatigues of a long journey, which\nwere easily forgot when they saw the city of Bagdad, where they arrived\nin safety.\n\nThey went to alight at the most magnificent and most resorted khan in the\ncity; but Ganem, who had a mind to be lodged conveniently, and by\nhimself, took no apartment there. He only left his goods in a warehouse\nfor their greater security, and hired a very fine house in the\nneighbourhood, richly furnished; having a garden, which was very\ndelightful, on account of the many water-works and shady groves that were\nin it.\n\nSome days after this young merchant had been settled in his house, and\nperfectly recovered of the fatigue of his journey, he dressed himself\ngenteelly, and repaired to the public place where the merchants meet to\nbuy and sell their commodities, with a slave following him, carrying a\nparcel of fine stuffs and silks.\n\nThe merchants received Ganem very courteously, and their syndic, or\nchief, to whom he first made application, bought all his parcel at the\nprice set down in the ticket annexed to every piece of stuff. Ganem\ncontinued his trade so successfully, that he daily sold all the goods he\nexposed.\n\nHe had no more left than one bale, which he had caused to be carried from\nthe warehouse to his own house, and then went to the public rendezvous,\nwhere he found all the shops shut. This seemed somewhat extraordinary to\nhim; and, having asked the cause of it, was told, that one of the prime\nmerchants, whom he knew, was dead, and that all his brother traders were\ngone to his funeral.\n\nGanem inquired after the mosque where the ceremony was to be performed,\nand whence the body was to be conducted to the grave; and having been\ntold it, sent back his slaves with the goods, and walked towards the\nmosque. He got thither before the prayers were ended, which were said in\na hall hung with black satin. The corpse was taken up and followed by the\nkindred, the merchants, and Ganem, to the place of burial, which was at a\ngreat distance without the city. It was a stone structure, like a dome,\npurposely built to receive the bodies of all the family of the deceased,\nand, being very small, they had pitched tents all about it, that all the\ncompany might be sheltered during the ceremony. The monument was opened,\nand the corpse laid into it, after which it was shut up again. Then the\niman, and other ministers of the mosque, sat down in a ring on carpets,\nin the largest tent, and said the rest of the prayers. They also read the\nchapters of the Alcoran appointed for the burial of the dead. The kindred\nand merchants sat round in the same manner behind the ministers.\n\nIt was near night before the whole was ended. Ganem, who had not expected\nsuch a long ceremony, began to be uneasy; and was the more so, when he\nsaw meat served up in memory of the deceased, according to the custom of\nBagdad. He was also told that the tents had been set up, not only against\nthe heat of the sun, but also against the evening dew, because they\nshould not return to the city before the next morning. These words\nperplexed Ganem: I am a stranger, said he to himself, and have the\nreputation of being a rich merchant: thieves may take this opportunity of\nmy absence, and go rob my house: my very slaves may be tempted to make\ntheir advantage of so convenient a time; they may run away with all the\ngold I have received for my goods; and whither shall I look for them? His\nhead being full of these thoughts, he ate a few mouthfuls hastily, and\ndexterously slipped away from the company.\n\nHe made all possible haste to gain time; but, as it often happens, the\nmore a man puts on, the less he advances: he mistook his way, and went\nastray in the dark; so that it was near midnight when he came to the\ncity-gate; and, to add to this misfortune, that was shut. That\ndisappointment was a fresh affliction to him; and he was obliged to think\nof finding some convenient place to pass the rest of the night in, and\nwait till the gate was opened. He went into a burial-place, so very\nspacious, that it reached from the city to the very place he was come\nfrom. He advanced to a parcel of pretty high walls, which enclosed a\nsmall field, being the peculiar burying-place of a family, and in which\nthere was a palm-tree. There was an infinite number of other particular\nburial-places, the doors whereof they did not take much care to shut\nfast. Ganem, finding that this burial-place was open, went into it, and\nput to the door after him. He lay down on the grass, and did all he could\nto sleep; but the uneasiness he was under, for being absent from home,\nwould not permit him. He got up; and, after having passed by the door\nseveral times, as he walked forwards and backwards, he opened it, without\nknowing why he did so, and immediately perceived a light at a distance,\nwhich seemed to come towards him. He was startled at that sight, put to\nthe door, which had nothing to make it fast but a latch, and got up as\nfast as he could to the top of the palm-tree, looking upon that as the\nsafest retreat under his present apprehensions. No sooner was he got up,\nthan, by the help of the light which had frightened him, he plainly\nperceived three men, whom, by their habit, he knew to be slaves, come\ninto the burial-place. One of them went foremost with a lantern, and the\ntwo others followed him, being loaded with a chest, between five and six\nfeet long, which they carried on their shoulders. They laid it down, and\nthen one of the three slaves said to his comrades, Brothers, if you will\nbe advised by me, we will leave the chest here, and return to the city.\nNo, no, replied another, that is not the way of doing what we were\nordered by our mistress; we may have cause to repent our not doing as we\nwere commanded: let us bury the chest, since we are so enjoined to do.\nThe two other slaves complied with him; so they began to break ground\nwith the tools they had brought for that purpose. When they had made a\ndeep trench, they put the chest into it, and covered it with the earth\nthey had taken out; then departed, and returned home.\n\nGanem, who, from the top of the palm-tree, had heard every word the\nslaves had spoken, could not tell what to think of that adventure. He\nconcluded that chest must needs contain something of value, and that the\nperson to whom it belonged had some particular reasons for causing it to\nbe buried in that church-yard. He resolved immediately to satisfy his\ncuriosity, came down from the palm-tree, his fear being gone with the\nslaves, and fell to work upon the pit, plying his hands and feet so well,\nthat in a short time he discovered the chest, but found it secured with a\ngreat padlock. This new obstacle to the satisfying of his curiosity was\nno small mortification to him: yet he would not be discouraged; but the\nday beginning then to appear, he saw several great pebbles about the\nburial-place: he picked out one, with which he easily knocked off the\npadlock, and then, with much impatience, opened the chest. Ganem was\nstrangely surprised, when, instead of finding money in it, he discovered\na young lady of incomparable beauty. Her fresh and rosy complexion, and\nher gentle regular breathing, satisfied him that she was alive; but he\ncould not conceive, why, if she were only asleep, she had not awaked at\nthe noise he made in forcing off the padlock. Her habit was so costly,\nwith bracelets and pendants of diamonds, and a necklace of true pearl,\nand so large, that he made not the least doubt of her being one of the\nprime ladies about the court. At the sight of so beautiful an object, not\nonly natural inclination to relieve persons in danger, but also something\nmore powerful, which Ganem could not then give an account of, prevailed\non him to afford that young beauty all the assistance he was able.\n\n[Illustration p170: Drawn by R. Westall R.A. Engraved by Chas. Heath.]\n\nHe first shut the gate of the burial-place, which the slaves had left\nopen, then returning, took the lady in his arms out of the chest, and\nlaid her on the soft earth he had thrown off the chest. As soon as the\nlady was laid down, and had the benefit of the open air, she sneezed; and\nhaving made a motion in turning her head there came from her mouth a\nliquor, which seemed to have been offensive to her stomach; then opening\nand rubbing her eyes, she, with such a voice as charmed Ganem, whom she\ndid not see, cried out, Zohorob Bostan, Schragrom Matglon, Cassabos\nSoucear, Nouron Nihar, Nagmatos Sobi, Nour Hatos Zoman, why do you not\nanswer? where are you? Those were the names of six female slaves that\nused to wait on her, and signified, Flower of the Garden, Branch of\nCoral, Sugar Cane, Light of the Day, Morning Star, and Delight of the\nSeason. She called them, and wondered that nobody answered; but at length\nlooking about, and perceiving she was in a burial-place, she was in a\nmighty fright. How now, cried she, much louder than before, is this the\nresurrection of the dead? Is the day of judgment come? What a wonderful\nchange is this from night to morning!\n\nGanem did not think fit to leave the lady any longer in that confusion,\nbut immediately appeared before her with all possible respect; and, in\nthe most courteous manner, said, Madam, I am scarce able to express my\njoy, for having happened to be here to do you the service I have done,\nand for being present to offer you all the assistance you shall stand in\nneed of, under your present circumstances.\n\nIn order to persuade the lady to repose all her confidence in him, he, in\nthe first place, told her who he was, and what accident it was that had\nbrought him into that place. Next, he acquainted her with the coming of\nthe three slaves, and how they had buried the chest. The lady, who had\ncovered her face with her veil as soon as Ganem appeared, was\nextraordinarily sensible of the obligations she owed him. I return thanks\nto God, said she, for having sent so worthy a person as you are to\ndeliver me from death; but, since you have begun so charitable a work, I\nconjure you not to leave it imperfect. Let me beg of you to go into the\ncity, and provide a muleteer to come with his mule, and carry me to your\nhouse in the chest; for, should I go in with you on foot, my dress being\ndifferent from that of the city-ladies, some one might happen to take\nnotice of it, and follow me, which it highly concerns me to prevent. When\nI shall be in your house, I will give you an account of myself; and, in\nthe mean time, be assured that you have not obliged an ungrateful person.\n\nBefore the young merchant left the lady, he drew the chest out of the\npit, which he filled up with the earth, laid her again in the chest, and\nshut it in such a manner, that it did not look as if the padlock had been\nforced off; but, for fear of stifling her, he put it not quite close,\nleaving room for the air to get in. Going out of the burial-place, he\ndrew the door after him; and the city-gate being then open, soon found\nwhat he sought for. He returned with speed to the burial-place, and\nhelped the muleteer to lay the chest across his mule; telling him, to\nremove all causes of suspicion, that he came to that place the night\nbefore, with another muleteer, who, being in haste to return home, had\nlaid down the chest in the burial-place.\n\nGanem, who had minded nothing but his business since his arrival at\nBagdad, was still unacquainted with the power of love, and now felt the\nfirst sallies of it. It had not been in his power to look upon the young\nlady without being disturbed; and the uneasiness he felt, following the\nmuleteer at a distance, and the fear lest any accident might happen by\nthe way that should deprive him of his conquest, taught him to unravel\nhis intricate thoughts. It was an extraordinary satisfaction to him,\nwhen, being arrived safe at home, he saw the chest unloaded. He dismissed\nthe muleteer; and having caused a slave to shut the doors of his house,\nhe opened the chest, helped the lady out, gave her his hand, and\nconducted her to his apartment, lamenting how much she must have endured\nin that close confinement. If I have suffered, said she, I have\nsatisfaction enough in what you have done me, and in the pleasure of\nseeing myself out of danger.\n\nThough Ganem\u2019s apartment was very richly furnished, the lady did not so\nmuch regard that, as she did the handsome presence and engaging mien of\nher deliverer, whose politeness and obliging behaviour highly heightened\nher gratitude. She sat down on a sofa; and, to begin to give the merchant\nto understand how sensible she was of the service done her, she took off\nher veil. Ganem, on his part, was sensible of the favour so lovely a lady\ndid in uncovering herself, or rather felt he had already a most violent\npassion for her. Whatsoever obligations she owed him, he thought himself\nmore than requited by so singular a favour.\n\nThe lady dived into Ganem\u2019s thoughts, yet was not at all surprised,\nbecause he appeared very full of respect. He, judging she might have\noccasion to eat, and not willing to trust any but himself with the care\nof entertaining so charming a guest, went out with a slave to an\neating-house to give directions for a treat. From thence he went to a\nfruit-seller, where he chose the finest and most excellent fruit; buying\nalso the choicest wine, and some of the same bread that was eaten at the\ncaliph\u2019s table.\n\nAs soon as he returned home, he, with his own hands, made a pyramid of\nthe fruit he had bought, and served it up himself to the lady, in a large\ndish of the finest china ware, saying, Madam, be pleased to make choice\nof some of this fruit, while a more solid entertainment, and more worthy\nyourself, is made ready. He would fain have continued standing before\nher; but she declared she would not touch any thing, unless he sat down\nand ate with her. He obeyed; and when they had eaten some small matter,\nGanem observing that the lady\u2019s veil, which she had laid down by her on a\nsofa, was embroidered along the edge with golden letters, begged leave of\nher to look upon that embroidery. The lady immediately took up the veil,\nand delivered it to him, asking him whether he could read. Madam, replied\nhe, with a modest air, a merchant would be able to manage his business\nvery ill, if he could not at least read and write. Well then, said she,\nread the words which are embroidered on that veil, which gives me an\nopportunity of telling you my story.\n\nGanem took the veil, and read these words, \u2018I am yours, and you are mine,\nthou descendant from the prophet\u2019s uncle.\u2019 That descendant from the\nprophet\u2019s uncle was the caliph Haroun Alraschid, who then reigned, and\nwas descended from Abbas, Mahomet\u2019s uncle.\n\nWhen Ganem perceived the sense of these words, Alas! madam, said he, in a\nmelancholy tone, I have just saved your life, and this embroidery is my\ndeath! I do not comprehend all the mystery; but it makes me too sensible\nthat I am the most unfortunate of men. Pardon the liberty I take, madam,\nof telling you so much. It was impossible for me to see you without\ngiving you up my heart. You are not ignorant yourself, that it was not in\nmy power to refuse it to you; and that makes my presumption excusable. I\nproposed to myself to move yours by my respect, my diligence, my\ncomplaisance, my assiduity, my submission, and my constancy; and no\nsooner had I flattered myself with that design, than I am robbed of all\nmy hopes. But be that as it will, I shall have the satisfaction of dying\nentirely yours. Proceed, madam, I conjure you, to give me a full\ninformation of my unhappy state.\n\nHe could not deliver those words without letting fall some tears. The\nlady was moved, but was so far from being displeased at the declaration\nhe made, that she felt an inward joy, for her heart began to yield.\nHowever, she concealed it; and, as if she had not regarded what Ganem\nsaid, I would have been very cautious, answered she, of showing you my\nveil, had I thought it would have made you so uneasy; and I do not\nperceive that what I have to say to you can make your condition so\ndeplorable as you imagine.\n\nYou must understand, proceeded she, in order to acquaint you with my\nstory, that my name is Fetnah, (which signifies a storm or tempest) which\nwas given me at my birth, because it was judged that the sight of me\nwould occasion many calamities. You cannot be a stranger to it, since\nnobody in Bagdad but knows that the caliph Haroun Alraschid, my sovereign\nlord and yours, has a favourite so called.\n\nI was carried into his palace in my very tender years, and I have been\nbrought up there with all the care that is usually taken with such\npersons of my sex as are designed to reside there. I made no ill advances\nin all they took the pains to teach me; and that, with some share of\nbeauty, gained me the caliph\u2019s affection, who gave me a particular\napartment adjoining to his own. That prince was not satisfied with such a\nmark of distinction: he appointed twenty women to wait on me, and as many\neunuchs; and, ever since, he has made me such considerable presents, that\nI was once richer than any queen in the world. You may reasonably judge,\nby what I have said, that Zobeide, the caliph\u2019s wife and kinswoman, could\nnot but be jealous of my happiness. Though Haroun has all the regard\nimaginable for her, she has used all her endeavours to ruin me.\n\nHitherto, I had secured myself against all her snares; but, at length, I\nfell under the last effort of her jealousy; and, were it not for you, I\nhad now been exposed to inevitable death. I do not question but that she\nhad corrupted one of my slaves, who, last night, in some lemonade, gave\nme a drug, which causes such a deep sleep, that it is easy to dispose of\nthose who have taken it; and that sleep is so profound, that nothing can\ndispel it for the space of seven or eight hours. I have the more reason\nto judge so, because naturally I am very light of sleep, and apt to wake\nat the least noise.\n\nZobeide, the better to put her design in execution, has laid hold of the\nopportunity of the absence of the caliph, who has been gone lately to put\nhimself at the head of his troops, to chastise some neighbouring kings,\nwho have presumed to join in league to make war on him. Were it not for\nthis opportunity, my rival, courageous as she is, durst not have presumed\nto attempt any thing against my life. I know not what she will do to\nconceal this action from the caliph; but you see it highly concerns me\nthat you should keep my secret. My life depends on it. I shall be safe in\nyour house as long as the caliph is from Bagdad. It behoves you to keep\nmy adventure private; for, should Zobeide know the obligation I owe you,\nshe would punish you for having saved me.\n\nWhen the caliph returns, I shall not need to be so much upon my guard. I\nshall find means to acquaint him with all that has happened, and I am\nfully persuaded he will be more earnest than myself to requite a service\nwhich restores me to his love.\n\nAs soon as Haroun Alraschid\u2019s beautiful favourite had done speaking,\nGanem began, and said, Madam, I return you a thousand thanks for having\ngiven me the information I took the liberty to desire of you; and I beg\nof you to believe that you are here in safety; the sentiments you have\ninspired in me are a pledge of my secrecy.\n\nAs for my slaves, I own there is cause to suspect them; they may perhaps\nfail of the fidelity they owe me, should they know by what accident, and\nin what place I had the good fortune to find you; but it is impossible\nthey should guess at that. Nay, I dare assure you that they will not have\nthe curiosity to inquire after it. It is so natural for young men to\npurchase beautiful slaves, that it will be no way surprising to them to\nsee you here, as believing you to be one, and that I have bought you.\nThey will also believe that I had some particular reasons for bringing\nyou home as I did. Set your heart therefore at rest as to that point, and\nremain satisfied that you shall be served with all the respect that is\ndue to the favourite of so great a monarch as ours is. But how great\nsoever he is, give me leave, madam, to declare, that nothing will be able\nto make me recall the present I have made you of my heart. I know, and\nshall never forget, that what belongs to the master is forbidden to the\nslave; but I loved you before you told me that you were engaged to the\ncaliph: it is not in my power to overcome a passion, which, though now in\nits infancy, has all the force of a love strengthened by a perfect\ncorrespondence. I wish your august and most fortunate lover may revenge\nyou against the malice of Zobeide, by calling you back to him; and, when\nyou shall be restored to his wishes, that you may remember the\nunfortunate Ganem, who is no less your conquest than the caliph. As\npowerful as that prince is, I flatter myself he will not be able to blot\nme out of your memory. If love be your predominant passion, he cannot\nlove you more passionately than I do; and I shall never cease to burn in\nyour flames, whatsoever part of the world I go into to expire, after\nhaving lost you.\n\nFetnah perceived that Ganem was under the greatest of afflictions, and it\nmoved her; but, considering the uneasiness she was likely to bring upon\nherself by prosecuting the discourse upon that subject, which might\ninsensibly lead her to discover the inclination she felt in herself for\nhim, she said, I perceive that this sort of conversation gives you too\nmuch trouble; let us change the discourse, and talk of the infinite\nobligations I owe you. I can never sufficiently express my satisfaction,\nwhen I consider that, without your assistance, I had not beheld the light\nof the sun.\n\nIt was happy for them both that somebody just then knocked at the door:\nGanem went to see who it was, and found it was one of his slaves to\nacquaint him that the entertainment was ready. Ganem, who, by way of\nprecaution, would have none of his slaves to come into the room where\nFetnah was, took what was brought, and served it up himself to his\nbeautiful guest, whose soul was ravished to behold with what diligence\nand respect he attended her.\n\nWhen they had eaten, Ganem took away, as he covered the table; and having\ndelivered all things at the chamber-door to his slaves, he said to\nFetnah, Madam, you may now perhaps desire to take some rest; I will leave\nyou, and when you have reposed yourself you shall find me ready to\nreceive your commands.\n\nHaving spoken these words, he left her, and went to buy two women-slaves.\nHe also bought two parcels, the one of linen, and the other of all such\nthings as were proper to make up a toilet fit for the caliph\u2019s favourite.\nHaving conducted home the two women-slaves, he presented them to Fetnah,\nsaying, Madam, a person of your quality cannot be without two maids, at\nleast, to serve you; be pleased to allow me to give you these.\n\nFetnah, admiring Ganem\u2019s forecast, My lord, said she, I perceive you are\nnot one that will do things by halves: you add by your courtesy to the\nobligations I owe you already; but I hope I shall not die ungrateful, and\nthat Heaven will soon put me in a condition to make acknowledgments for\nall your acts of generosity.\n\nWhen the women-slaves were withdrawn into a chamber adjoining, which the\nyoung merchant showed them, he sat down on the sofa where Fetnah was;\nbut, at some distance from her, in token of the greater respect. He then\nbegan again to discourse of his passion, and spoke very moving things\nrelating to the invincible obstacles which robbed him of all his hopes. I\ndare not so much as hope, said he, by my passion, to excite the least\nsensibility in a heart like yours, destined for the greatest prince in\nthe world. Alas! it would be a comfort to me, if I could flatter myself\nthat you have not looked upon the excess of my love with indifferency. My\nlord, answered Fetnah\u2014Alas! madam, said Ganem, interrupting her at the\nword lord, this is a second time you have done me the honour to call me\nlord; the presence of the women-slaves hindered me the first time from\ntaking notice of it to you: in the name of God, madam, do not give me\nthat title of honour; it does not belong to me: treat me, I beseech you,\nas your slave: I am, and shall never cease to be so.\n\nNo, no, replied Fetnah, interrupting him in her turn, I shall be cautious\nhow I treat a man to whom I owe my life, after that manner. I should be\nungrateful could I say or do any thing that did not become you. Leave me\ntherefore to follow the dictates of my gratitude, and do not require it\nof me that I misbehave myself towards you, in return for the benefits I\nhave received. I shall never be guilty of it; I am too sensible of your\nrespectful behaviour, to abuse it; and I will not stick to own, that I do\nnot look upon all your care with indifferency. You know the reason that\ncondemns me to silence.\n\nGanem was ravished at that declaration: he wept for joy; and not being\nable to find expressions significant enough, in his own conceit, to\nreturn Fetnah thanks, was satisfied with telling her, that, as she knew\nwhat she owed to the caliph, he, on his part, was not ignorant, \u2018that\nwhat belongs to the master is forbidden to the servant.\u2019\n\nNight drawing on, he went out to fetch some light, which he brought in\nhimself, as also some collation, as is the custom in the city of Bagdad;\nwhere, having made a good meal at noon, they, at night, are satisfied\nwith eating some fruit, and drinking a glass of wine; so diverting the\ntime till they go to bed.\n\nThey both sat down at table, and at first complimented each other,\npresenting the fruit reciprocally. The excellency of the wine insensibly\ndrew them both on to drink; and having drunk two or three glasses, they\nagreed that neither should take another glass without singing some air\nfirst. Ganem sang verses he composed _extempore_, and which expressed the\nvehemency of his passion; and Fetnah, encouraged by his example, composed\nand sang verses relating to her adventure, and always containing\nsomething which Ganem might take in a sense that was favourable to him;\nbating, that she nicely observed the fidelity due to the caliph. The\ncollation held till very late, and the night was far advanced, before\nthey thought of parting. Ganem then withdrew to another apartment,\nleaving Fetnah where she was, and the women-slaves he had bought coming\nin to wait upon her.\n\nThey lived together after this manner for several days. The young\nmerchant went not abroad, unless upon business of the utmost consequence;\nand, even for that, took the time when his lady was at her rest; for he\ncould not prevail upon himself to let slip a moment that might be spent\nin her company. All his thoughts were taken up with his dear Fetnah, who,\non her side, giving way to her inclination, confessed she had no less\naffection for him than he had for her. However, as fond as they were of\neach other, their respect for the caliph kept them within those bounds\nthat were due to him, which still heightened their passion.\n\nWhile Fetnah, thus snatched from the jaws of death, passed her time so\nagreeably with Ganem, Zobeide was not without some apprehensions in\nHaroun Alraschid\u2019s palace.\n\nAs soon as the three slaves intrusted with the execution of her revenge,\nhad carried away the chest, without knowing what was in it, or so much as\nthe least curiosity to inquire into it, as being used to pay a blind\nobedience to her commands, she was seized with a tormenting uneasiness: a\nthousand perplexing thoughts disturbed her rest; sleep fled from her\neyes, and she spent the night in contriving how to conceal her crime. My\nconsort, said she, loves Fetnah more than ever he did any of his\nfavourites. What shall I say to him at his return, when he inquires of me\nafter her? Many contrivances occurred to her, but none were satisfactory:\nshe still met with difficulties, and knew not where to fix. There lived\nwith her an ancient lady, who had bred her up from her infancy: as soon\nas it was day, she sent for her, and having intrusted her with the\nsecret, said, Dear mother, you have always been assisting to me with your\nadvice; if ever I stood in need of it, it is now; when the business\nbefore you is to still my thoughts, distracted by a mortal concern, and\nto show me some way to satisfy the caliph.\n\nDear madam, replied the old lady, it had been much better not to have run\nyourself into the difficulties you labour under; but since the thing is\ndone, the best way is to say no more of it: all that must now be thought\nof, is how to deceive the chief of believers; and I am of opinion that\nyou must immediately cause a wooden image to be carved resembling a dead\nbody; we will shroud it up in old linen; and, when shut up in a coffin,\nit shall be buried in some part of the palace; then shall you immediately\ncause a marble monument to be built, after the manner of a dome, over the\nburial-place; and erect a figure which shall be covered with black cloth,\nand set about with great candlesticks and large wax tapers. There is\nanother thing, added the old lady, which ought not to be forgot: you must\nput on mourning, and cause the same to be done by all your own and\nFetnah\u2019s women, your eunuchs, and all that belong to the palace. When the\ncaliph returns, and sees you and all the palace in mourning, he will be\nsure to ask the occasion of it; then will you have an opportunity of\ninsinuating yourself into his favour, saying, it was in respect to him,\nthat you paid the last honours to Fetnah, snatched away by sudden death.\nYou may also tell him you have caused a mausoleum to be built; and, in\nshort, that you have paid all the dues to his favourite which he would\nhave done himself had he been present. His passion for her being\nextraordinary, he will certainly go and shed some tears upon her grave;\nand, perhaps, added the old woman, he will not believe she is really\ndead; and suspect you have turned her out of the palace through jealousy,\nand look upon all the mourning as an artifice to deceive him, and prevent\nhis making search after her. It is likely he will cause the coffin to be\ntaken up and opened, and it is certain he will be convinced of her death\nas soon as he shall see the figure of a dead body buried. He will be\npleased with all you shall have done, and express his gratitude. As for\nthe wooden image, I will undertake to have it cut myself by a carver in\nthe city, who shall not know what use it is to be put to. As for your\npart, madam, order Fetnah\u2019s woman, who yesterday gave her the lemonade,\nto give out that she had just found her mistress dead in her bed; and,\nthat they may only think of lamenting, without offering to go into her\nchamber, let her add, she has already acquainted you with it, and that\nyou have ordered Mesrour to cause her to be laid out and buried.\n\nAs soon as the old lady had spoken these words, Zobeide took a rich\ndiamond ring out of her casket, and putting it on her finger, and\nembracing her in a perfect transport of joy, said, How infinitely am I\nbeholden to you, my dear mother! I should never have thought of so\ningenious a contrivance. It cannot fail of success, and I perceive my\npeace of mind begins to be restored to me. I leave the care of the wooden\nfigure to you, and I will go myself to order the rest.\n\nThe wooden image was got ready with as much expedition as Zobeide could\nhave wished, and then conveyed by the lady herself into Fetnah\u2019s\nbed-chamber, where she dressed it like a dead body, and put it into a\ncoffin. Then Mesrour, who was much deceived by it, caused the coffin, and\nthe representation of Fetnah, to be carried away; and buried it with the\nusual ceremonies, in the place appointed by Zobeide, the favourite\u2019s\nwomen weeping and lamenting, and she who had given her the lemonade\nsetting them an example by her cries and howlings.\n\nThat very day, Zobeide sent for the architect of the palace, and of the\ncaliph\u2019s other houses; and, according to the orders he received from her,\nthe mausoleum was finished in a very short time. Such potent princesses,\nas was this consort of a monarch, whose power extended from east to west,\nare always punctually obeyed in whatsoever they command, by all the\ncourt; so that the news of Fetnah\u2019s death was soon spread all over the\ntown.\n\nGanem was one of the last who had heard of it; for, as I have before\nobserved, he scarce went abroad. Being at length informed of it, Madam,\nsaid he to the caliph\u2019s fair favourite, you are thought to be dead in\nBagdad, and I do not question but that Zobeide herself believes it; I\nbless Heaven that I am the cause, and the happy witness of your being\nalive; and would to God, that, taking the advantage of this false report,\nyou would share my fortune, and go far from hence to reign in my heart!\nBut whither does this pleasing notion carry me? I do not consider that\nyou are born to make the greatest prince in the world happy, and that\nonly Haroun Alraschid is worthy of you. Supposing you could resolve to\ngive him up for me, and that you would follow me, ought I to consent to\nit? No, it is my part always to remember, that what belongs to the master\nis forbidden to the slave.\n\nThe lovely Fetnah, though moved by the tenderness of the passion he\nexpressed, yet prevailed with herself not to comply with it. My lord,\nsaid she to him, we cannot obstruct Zobeide\u2019s triumphing. I am not at all\nsurprised at the artifice she makes use of to conceal her guilt: but let\nher proceed; I flatter myself that sorrow will soon follow her triumph:\nthe caliph will return, and we shall find means privately to inform him\nof all that has happened. In the mean time, let us be more cautious than\never, that she may not know I am alive. I have already told you the\nconsequences.\n\nThree months after, the caliph returned to Bagdad with honour, having\nvanquished all his enemies: he entered the palace with impatience to see\nFetnah, and to lay all his laurels at her feet; but was amazed to see all\nthe servants he had left behind him in mourning. It struck him, without\nknowing the cause; and his concern was double, when, coming into the\napartment of Zobeide, he spied that princess coming to meet him with all\nher women in mourning. He immediately asked her the cause of it, with\nmuch concern. Chief of the believers, answered Zobeide, I am in mourning\nfor your slave Fetnah, who died so suddenly, that it was impossible to\napply any medicine to her distemper. She would have proceeded, but the\ncaliph did not give her time, being so surprised at the news, that he\ncried out, and then fell into a swoon in the arms of Giafar, his grand\nvizier, who attended him. Coming soon after to himself, he, with a weak\nvoice, which sufficiently expressed his concern, asked where his dear\nFetnah had been buried? Sir, said Zobeide, I took care myself of her\nfuneral, and spared for no cost to make it magnificent. I have caused a\nmarble mausoleum to be built over her grave, and will attend you thither,\nif you desire it.\n\nThe caliph would not permit Zobeide to take that trouble, but was\nsatisfied to have Mesrour to conduct him. He went thither just as he was,\nthat is, in the camp dress. When he saw the figure covered with a black\ncloth, the lighted candles all about it, and the magnificence of the\nmausoleum, he was amazed that Zobeide should have performed the obsequies\nof her rival with so much magnificence; and, being naturally of a jealous\ntemper, he suspected his wife\u2019s generosity, and fancied his mistress\nmight perhaps be yet alive; that Zobeide, taking the advantage of his\nlong absence, might have turned her out of the palace, ordering those she\nhad intrusted with it to convey her so far-off, that she might never more\nbe heard of. This was all he suspected; for he did not think Zobeide\nwicked enough to have murdered his favourite.\n\nThe better to discover the truth himself, that prince ordered the figure\nto be removed, and caused the grave and the coffin to be opened in his\npresence: but when he saw the linen which wrapped up the wooden image, he\ndurst not proceed any farther. That religious caliph thought it would be\nan irreligious act to suffer the body of the dead lady to be touched; and\nthis scruple prevailed above his love and curiosity. He caused the coffin\nto be shut up again, the grave to be filled, and the figure to be placed\nas it was before.\n\nThe caliph, thinking himself obliged to pay some respect to the tomb of\nhis favourite, sent for the ministers of his religion, the officers of\nthe palace, and the readers of the Alcoran; and, whilst they were calling\ntogether, he remained in the mausoleum, moistening the earth that covered\nthe phantom of his love with his tears. When all the persons he had sent\nfor were come, he stood before the figure, and they about it recited long\nprayers; after which the readers of the Alcoran read several chapters.\n\nThe same ceremony was performed every day during the whole month, morning\nand evening, the caliph being always present, with Giafar the grand\nvizier, and the prime officers of the court, all of them in mourning, as\nwell as the caliph himself, who all that while failed not to honour the\nmemory of Fetnah with tears, and would not talk the least of any\nbusiness.\n\nThe last day of the month, the prayers and reading of the Alcoran lasted\nfrom that morning till break of day the next morning; and at length, when\nall was done, every man returned home. Haroun Alraschid, being tired with\nsitting up all that time, went to take some rest in his apartment, and\nfell asleep on a sofa between two of the court ladies, one of them\nsitting at the bed\u2019s head, and the other at the feet, who, whilst he\nslept, were working some embroidery, and observed a profound silence.\n\nShe who sat at the bed\u2019s head, and whose name was Nouron-Nihar, that is,\nDawn of the Day, perceiving the caliph was asleep, whispered to the\nother, called Nagmatos-Sobi, signifying Morning-Star, There is great\nnews! The chief of the believers, our master, will be overjoyed when he\nawakes and hears what I have to say to him: Fetnah is not dead; she is in\nperfect health. O Heavens! cried Morning-Star, in a transport of joy, is\nit possible that the beautiful, the charming, the incomparable Fetnah\nshould be still among the living? Morning-Star uttered these words with\nsuch a sprightly air, and so loud, that the caliph awaked. He asked why\nthey had disturbed his rest. Alas! my sovereign lord, answered\nMorning-Star, pardon me this indiscretion, I could not contain myself.\nWhat then is become of her, said the caliph, if she is not dead? Chief of\nthe believers, replied Dawn of the Day, I this evening received a note,\nnot signed, from a person unknown, but written with Fetnah\u2019s own hand,\nwhich gives me an account of her melancholy adventures, and orders me to\nacquaint you with it. I thought fit, before I fulfilled my commission, to\nlet you take some few moments\u2019 rest, believing you must stand in need of\nit after your fatigue. Give me that note, said the caliph, interrupting\nher in a disorderly manner; you were in the wrong in deferring to deliver\nit to me.\n\nDawn of the Day immediately delivered him the note, which he opened with\nmuch impatience; and in it Fetnah gave a brief account of all that had\nbefallen her, but enlarged a little too much on the care Ganem took of\nher. The caliph, who was naturally jealous, instead of being provoked at\nthe inhumanity of Zobeide, was only concerned for the infidelity he\nfancied Fetnah had been guilty of towards him. Is it so? said he, after\nreading the note; the perfidious wretch has been four months with a young\nmerchant, and has the impudence to boast of the respect he pays her.\nThirty days are passed since my return to Bagdad, and she now bethinks\nherself of sending me this news. Ungrateful creature! while I spend the\ndays in bewailing her, she passes them away in betraying me. Go to, let\nus take revenge of the false woman, and that bold youth who affronts me.\nHaving spoken these words, that prince got up, and went into a great\nhall, where he used to appear in public, and to give audience to the\ngreat men of his court. The first gate was opened, and immediately all\nthe courtiers, who expected him, that moment entered. The grand vizier\ncame in, and prostrated himself before the throne the caliph sat on. Then\nrising, he stood before his master, who, in a tone which denoted he would\nbe instantly obeyed, said to him, Giafar, your presence is requisite for\nputting in execution an important affair I am about to commit to you.\nTake four hundred men out of my guards along with you, and first inquire\nwhere a merchant of Damascus lives, whose name is Ganem, the son of Abou\nAyoub. When you have learned that, repair to his house, and cause it to\nbe razed down to the foundation; but first secure Ganem, and bring him\nhither, with my slave Fetnah, who has lived with him these four months. I\nwill punish her, and make an example of that insolent man, who has\npresumed to fail in respect to me.\n\nThe grand vizier having received this positive command, made a low bow to\nthe caliph, having his hand on his own head, as a token that he would\nrather lose it than disobey him, and departed. The first thing he did,\nwas to send to the syndic, or head of the merchants, for some foreign\nstuffs and fine silks, of the new ones brought by Ganem; with strict\norders, above all things, to inquire after the street and house he lived\nin. The officer he sent with these orders brought him back word, that he\nhad scarce been seen for some months, and no man knew what could keep him\nat home, if he was there. The same officer told Giafar where Ganem lived,\nand the name of the widow who had let him the house.\n\nUpon this information, which could not fail, that minister, without\nlosing any time, marched with the soldiers the caliph had ordered him to\ntake, went to the mayor of the city, whom he also caused to bear him\ncompany; and being attended by a great number of carpenters and masons,\nwith the necessary tools for razing of a house, came to that in which\nGanem lived; and finding it stood alone, without being confined any way,\nhe posted his soldiers quite round it, to prevent the young merchant\nmaking his escape.\n\nFetnah and Ganem had just then dined: the lady was sitting at a window\nnext the street; and hearing a noise, she looked out through the lattice,\nwhen, seeing the grand vizier draw near with all his attendants, she\nconcluded his design was upon her as well as Ganem. She perceived her\nnote had been received, but had not expected such an answer, having hoped\nthat the caliph would have taken that business quite otherwise. She knew\nnot how long that prince had been come home; and though she was\nacquainted with his jealous temper, yet she apprehended nothing on that\naccount. However, the sight of the grand vizier and the soldiers made her\nquake in reality, not for herself, but for Ganem: she did not question\nclearing herself, provided the caliph would but hear her. As for Ganem,\nwhom she was kind to rather out of gratitude than affection, she plainly\nforesaw that his rival, being incensed, would see, and might be apt to\ncondemn him, upon account of his youth and mien. Being full of that\nthought, she turned to the young merchant, and said, Alas! Ganem, we are\nundone; it is you and I that are sought after. He presently looked\nthrough the lattice, and was seized with dread when he beheld the\ncaliph\u2019s guards with their naked scimitars, and the grand vizier with the\ncivil magistrate at the head of them. At that sight he stood motionless,\nand had not power to utter one word. Ganem, said the favourite, there is\nno losing of time: if you love me, put on the habit of one of your slaves\nimmediately, and daub your face and arms with soot; then lay some of\nthese dishes on your head: you may be taken for a servant belonging to\nthe eating-house, and they will let you pass. If they happen to ask you\nwhere the master of the house is, answer, without any hesitation, that he\nis within. Alas! madam, answered Ganem, less concerned for himself than\nfor Fetnah, you only take care of me; what will become of you? Let not\nthat trouble you, replied Fetnah, it is my part to look to that. As for\nwhat you leave in this house, I will take care of it; and I hope it will\nbe one day justly restored to you, when the caliph\u2019s anger is over: but\ndo you avoid his fury; for the orders he gives in heat of passion are\nalways fatal. The young merchant\u2019s affliction was so great, that he knew\nnot what course to fix upon, and would certainly have suffered himself to\nhave been seized by the caliph\u2019s soldiers, had not Fetnah pressed him to\ndisguise himself. He was prevailed upon by her persuasions, to put on the\nhabit of a slave, and daub himself with soot; and it was high time, for\nthey were knocking at the door; and all they could do was to embrace each\nother lovingly: they were both so overwhelmed with sorrow that they could\nnot utter one word; and it was thus they parted. Ganem went out with some\ndishes on his head: he was taken for the servant of an eating-house, and\nnobody offered to stop him. On the contrary, the grand vizier, who was\nthe first that met him, gave him way to let him pass, being far from any\nthought that he was the man he looked for. Those who were behind the\ngrand vizier made way as he had done, and thus favoured his escape. He\ngot speedily to one of the city gates, and so got clear away.\n\nWhile he was making the best of his way from the grand vizier Giafar,\nthat minister came into the room where Fetnah was sitting on a sofa, and\nwhere there were many chests full of Ganem\u2019s equipage, and of the money\nhe had made of his goods.\n\nAs soon as Fetnah saw the grand vizier come into the room, she fell flat\non her face, and continued in that posture, as it were, ready to receive\nher death. My lord, said she, I am ready to undergo the sentence passed\nagainst me by the chief of the believers; you need only make it known to\nme. Madam, answered Giafar, falling also down till she had raised\nherself, God forbid any man should presume to lay his profane hands on\nyou. I do not design to offer you the least wrong. I have no farther\norders than to entreat you will be pleased to go with me to the palace,\nand to conduct you thither with the merchant that lives in this house. My\nlord, replied the favourite, let us go; I am ready to follow you. As for\nthe young merchant, to whom I am indebted for my life, he is not here; he\nhas been gone about a month since to Damascus, whither his business\ncalled him, and he has left these chests you see under my care till he\nreturns. I conjure you to cause them to be secured, that I may perform\nthe promise I made to take all possible care of them.\n\nYou shall be obeyed, said Giafar, and immediately sent for porters, whom\nhe commanded to take up the chests, and carry them to Mesrour.\n\nAs soon as the porters were gone, he whispered the civil magistrate,\ncommitting to him the care of seeing the house razed; but first to cause\ndiligent search to be made for Ganem, who, he suspected, might be hid,\nwhatever Fetnah had told of him. Then he went out, taking the young lady\nwith him attended by the two slaves that waited on her. As for Ganem\u2019s\nslaves, they were not regarded; they ran in among the crowd, and it was\nnot known what became of them.\n\nNo sooner was Giafar out of the house, than the masons and carpenters\nbegan to raze it; and did it so effectually, that in a few hours none of\nit remained. But the civil magistrate, not finding Ganem, after the\nstrictest search, sent to acquaint the grand vizier with it, before that\nminister reached the palace. Well, said Haroun Alraschid, seeing him come\ninto his closet, have you executed my orders? Yes, sir, answered Giafar,\nthe house Ganem lived in is levelled with the ground, and I have brought\nyou your favourite Fetnah; she is at your closet-door, and I will call\nher in if you command me. As for the young merchant, we could not find\nhim, though all places have been searched; and Fetnah affirms that he has\nbeen gone this month to Damascus.\n\nNever was any man in such a passion as the caliph, when he heard that\nGanem had made his escape. As for his favourite, being possessed that she\nhad been false to him, he would neither see nor speak to her. Mesrour,\nsaid he to the chief of the eunuchs, who was there present, take the\nungrateful, the perfidious Fetnah, and go shut her up in the dark tower.\nThat tower was within the enclosure of the palace, and commonly served as\na prison for the favourites who any way disgusted the caliph.\n\nMesrour, being used to execute his sovereign\u2019s orders, though ever so\nunjust, without making any objection, obeyed this with some reluctancy.\nHe signified his concern to Fetnah, who was the more grieved at it,\nbecause she had reckoned that the caliph would not refuse to speak to\nher. There was no remedy but to submit to her hard fate, and to follow\nMesrour, who conducted her to the dark tower, and there left her.\n\nIn the mean time the caliph, being incensed, and only consulting his\npassion, wrote the following letter, with his own hand, to the king of\nSyria, his cousin and tributary, who resided at Damascus.\n\n\n THE LETTER FROM THE CALIPH HAROUN ALRASCHID TO MOHAMMED ZINEBI, KING\n OF SYRIA.\n\n\u2018Cousin, this is to inform you, that a merchant of Damascus, whose name\nis Ganem, the son of Abou Ayoub, has seduced the most amiable of my women\nslaves, called Fetnah, and is fled. It is my will, that, when you have\nread my letter, you cause search to be made for Ganem, and secure him.\nWhen he is in your power, you shall cause him to be loaded with irons,\nand for three days successively he shall receive fifty strokes with a\nbull\u2019s pizzle. Then let him be led through all parts of the city, with a\ncrier, crying, This is the smallest punishment the chief of the believers\ninflicts on him that offends his lord, and debauches one of his slaves.\nAfter that, you shall send him to me under a strong guard. It is my will\nthat you cause his house to be plundered; and when it shall be razed,\norder the materials to be carried out of the city into the middle of the\nplain. Besides, if he has father, mother, sister, wives, daughters, or\nother kindred, cause them to be stripped; and when they are naked, expose\nthem as a spectacle during three days to the whole city, forbidding any\none, on pain of death, to afford them any shelter. I expect you will no\nway delay what I enjoin.\n\n Haroun Alraschid.\u2019\n\n\nThe caliph having written this letter, sent it away by an express,\nordering him to make all possible speed, and to take pigeons along with\nhim, that he might the sooner hear what had been done by Mohammed Zinebi.\n\nThe pigeons of Bagdad have this particular quality, that, though they be\ncarried ever so far, they return to Bagdad as soon as they are turned\nloose, especially when they have young ones. A letter rolled up is made\nfast under their wing; and by that means, they have speedy advice from\nsuch places as they desire.\n\nThe caliph\u2019s express travelling night and day, as his master\u2019s impatience\nrequired, and being come to Damascus, went directly to king Zinebi\u2019s\npalace, who sat upon his throne to receive the caliph\u2019s letter. The\nexpress having delivered it, Mohammed looking upon it, and knowing the\nhand, stood up to show his respect, kissed the letter, and laid it on his\nhead, to denote he was ready submissively to obey the orders contained in\nit. He opened it, and having read it, immediately descended from his\nthrone, and, without losing time, mounted on horseback, with the prime\nofficers of his household. He also sent for the civil magistrate, who\ncame to him; and then he went directly to Ganem\u2019s house, attended by all\nhis guards.\n\nThat young merchant\u2019s mother had never heard or received any letter from\nhim since he left Damascus, but the other merchants with whom he went to\nBagdad were returned, and all of them told her they had left her son in\nperfect health. However, as he did not return himself, and neglected to\nwrite, the tender mother could not be persuaded but that he was dead, and\nwas so fully convinced of it in her imagination, that she went into\nmourning. She bewailed Ganem as if she had seen him die, and had herself\nclosed his eyes: never mother expressed greater sorrow; and so far was\nshe from seeking any comfort, that she delighted in indulging her sorrow.\nShe caused a dome to be built in the middle of the court belonging to her\nhouse, in which she placed a figure representing her son, and covered it\nwith black cloth. She spent the greatest part of the days and nights in\nweeping under that dome, in the same manner as if her son had been buried\nthere. The beautiful Alcolomb, or Ravisher of Hearts, her daughter, bore\nher company, and mixed her tears with hers.\n\nIt was now some time since they had thus devoted themselves to sorrow,\nand since the neighbourhood, hearing their cries and lamentations, pitied\nsuch loving relations, when king Mohammed Zinebi came to the door, which,\nbeing opened by a slave belonging to the family, he went into the house,\ninquiring for Ganem, the son of Abou Ayoub.\n\nThough the slave had never seen king Zinebi, she easily guessed, by his\nretinue, that this must be one of the prime men of Damascus. My lord,\nsaid she, that Ganem you inquire for is dead: my mistress, his mother, is\nin that monument you see there, actually lamenting the loss of him. The\nking, not regarding what was said by the slave, caused all the house to\nbe diligently searched by his guards for Ganem. Then he advanced towards\nthe monument, where he saw the mother and daughter sitting on nothing but\na mat, by the figure which represented Ganem, and their faces appeared to\nhim bathed in tears. Those poor women immediately veiled themselves, as\nsoon as they beheld a man at the door of the dome; but the mother,\nknowing the king of Damascus, got up, and ran to cast herself at his\nfeet. My good lady, said he, I was looking for your son Ganem; is he\nhere? Alas, sir! cried the mother, it is a long time since he has ceased\nto be: would to God I had at least put him into his shroud with my own\nhands, and had the comfort of having his bones in this monument! O, my\nson, my dear son! She would have said more, but was oppressed with so\nviolent sorrow that she was not able.\n\nZinebi was moved; for he was a prince of a mild nature, and had much\ncompassion for the sufferings of the unfortunate. If Ganem alone is\nguilty, thought he to himself, why should the mother and the daughters,\nwho are innocent, be punished? Ah! cruel Haroun Alraschid, what a\nmortification do you put upon me, in making me the executioner of your\nvengeance, obliging me to persecute those persons who have not offended\nyou!\n\nThe guards that the king ordered to search for Ganem, came and told him\nthey had lost their labour. He was fully convinced: the tears of these\ntwo women would not leave him any room to doubt. It distracted him to be\nobliged to execute the caliph\u2019s order. My good lady, said he to Ganem\u2019s\nmother, come out of this monument with your daughter; it is no place of\nsafety for you. They went out; and he, to secure them against any insult,\ntook off his own robe, which was very large, and covered them both with\nit, bidding them be sure to keep close to him. Then he ordered the\nmultitude to be admitted to plunder, which was performed with the utmost\nrapaciousness, and many shouts, which terrified Ganem\u2019s mother and sister\nthe more, because they knew not the reason of it. The rabble carried off\nthe richest goods, chests full of wealth, fine Persian and Indian\ncarpets, cushions made of cloth of gold and silver, fine china ware. In\nshort, all was taken away; nothing was left but the hard walls of the\nhouse: and it was certainly a dismal spectacle for the unhappy ladies, to\nsee all their goods plundered, without knowing why they were so cruelly\ntreated.\n\nWhen the house was plundered, Mohammed ordered the civil magistrates to\nraze the house and monument; and, whilst that was doing, he carried away\nAlcolomb and her mother to his palace. There it was he redoubled their\naffliction, acquainting them with the caliph\u2019s will. He commands me, said\nhe to them, to cause you to be stripped, and expose you naked for three\ndays to the view of the people. It is with the utmost reluctance that I\nexecute that cruel and ignominious sentence. The king delivered these\nwords with such an air, as plainly made it appear his heart was really\npierced with grief and compassion. Though the fear of being dethroned\nobstructed his following the dictates of his pity, yet he in some measure\nmoderated the rigour of Haroun Alraschid\u2019s orders, causing coarse sacks,\nlike smocks with sleeves, to be made of horse-hair, for Ganem\u2019s mother,\nand his sister Alcolomb, or Ravisher of Hearts.\n\nThe next day, these two victims of the caliph\u2019s rage were stripped of\ntheir clothes, and their horse-hair smocks put upon them; their\nhead-dress was also taken away, so that their dishevelled hair hung upon\ntheir backs. Alcolomb had the finest hair in the world; and it hung down\nto the ground. In that condition, they were exposed to the people. The\ncivil magistrate, attended by his officers, went along with them; and\nthey were conducted throughout all the city. A crier went before them,\nwho, every now and then, cried, This is the punishment due to those who\nhave drawn on themselves the indignation of the chief of the believers.\n\nWhen they walked in this manner along the streets of Damascus, with their\narms and feet naked, clad in such a strange garment, and endeavouring to\nhide their shame under their hair, with which they covered their faces,\nall the people were dissolved in tears; more especially the ladies,\nlooking on them as innocent persons, through their lattice-windows, and\nbeing particularly moved by Alcolomb\u2019s youth and beauty, made the air\nring with their dreadful shrieks, as they passed before their houses. The\nvery children, frightened at those shrieks, and at the spectacle that\noccasioned them, mixed their cries with that general lamentation, and\nadded new horror to it. In short, had an enemy been at Damascus, and then\nputting all to fire and sword, the consternation could not have been\ngreater.\n\nIt was near night when that dismal scene concluded. The mother and\ndaughter were both conducted back to king Mohammed\u2019s palace. Not being\nused to walk barefoot, they were so spent, that they lay a long time in a\nswoon. The queen of Damascus, highly afflicted at their misfortunes,\nnotwithstanding the caliph\u2019s prohibition to relieve them, sent some of\nher women to comfort them with all sorts of refreshments, and wine to\nraise their spirits.\n\nThe queen\u2019s women found them still in a swoon, and almost past receiving\nany benefit by what they offered them. However, with much difficulty,\nthey were brought to themselves. Ganem\u2019s mother immediately returned them\nthanks for their courtesy. My good lady, said one of the queen\u2019s ladies\nto her, we are highly concerned at your affliction; and the queen of\nSyria, our mistress, has done us a favour in employing us to assist you.\nWe can assure you, that princess is much afflicted at your misfortunes,\nas well as the king her consort. Ganem\u2019s mother entreated the queen\u2019s\nwomen to return her majesty a thousand thanks from her and her daughter\nAlcolomb; and then, directing her discourse to the lady that spoke to\nher, she said, Madam, the king has not told me why the chief of the\nbelievers inflicts so many outrages on us; pray be pleased to tell us\nwhat crimes we have been guilty of. My good lady, answered the other, the\norigin of your misfortune proceeds from your son Ganem. He is not dead,\nas you imagine. He is accused of having stolen the beautiful Fetnah, the\nbest beloved of all the king\u2019s favourites; and he having, by timely\nflight, withdrawn himself from that prince\u2019s indignation, the punishment\nis fallen on you. All mankind condemns the caliph\u2019s resentment; but all\nmankind fears him: and you see king Zinebi himself dares not contradict\nhis orders, for fear of incurring his displeasure. So that all we can do\nis to pity and exhort you to have patience.\n\nI know my son, answered Ganem\u2019s mother; I have educated him very\ncarefully, and in that respect which is due to the commander of the\nbelievers. He has not committed the crime he is accused of; I dare answer\nfor his innocency. But I will give over muttering and complaining, since\nit is for him that I suffer, and he is not dead. O Ganem! added she, in a\ntransport of love and joy, my dear son Ganem, is it possible that you are\nstill alive? I no longer am concerned for the loss of my goods; and how\nextravagant soever the caliph\u2019s orders may be, I forgive him all the\nseverity of them, provided Heaven has saved my son. I am only concerned\nfor my daughter; her sufferings only afflict me; yet I believe her to be\nso good a sister as to follow my example.\n\nAt the hearing of these words, Alcolomb, who till then had appeared\ninsensible, turned to her mother, and, clasping her arms about her neck,\nYes, dear mother, said she, I will always follow your example, whatever\nextremity the love of my brother brings you to.\n\nThe mother and daughter, thus interchanging their sighs and tears,\ncontinued a considerable time in such moving embraces. In the mean time,\nthe queen\u2019s women, who were much moved at that spectacle, omitted no\npersuasions to prevail with Ganem\u2019s mother to take some sustenance. She\nate a morsel out of complaisance, and Alcolomb did the like.\n\nThe caliph having ordered that Ganem\u2019s kindred should be exposed three\ndays successively to the sight of the people, in the condition as has\nbeen said, Alcolomb and her mother afforded the same spectacle the second\ntime next day, from morning till night. But that day and the following,\nthings were not done after the same manner: the streets, which at first\nhad been full of people, were left quite empty. All the traders, incensed\nat the ill usage of Abou Ayoub\u2019s widow and daughter, shut up their shops,\nand kept themselves close within their houses. The ladies, instead of\nlooking through their lattice-windows, withdrew into the back parts of\ntheir houses. There was not one soul to be seen in the public places\nthose unfortunate women were carried through. It looked as if all the\ninhabitants of Damascus had abandoned their city.\n\nOn the fourth day, king Mohammed Zinebi, who was resolved punctually to\nobey the caliph\u2019s orders, though he did not approve of them, sent criers\ninto all quarters of the city to make proclamation, strictly forbidding\nall the inhabitants of Damascus, and strangers, of what condition soever,\nupon pain of death, and having their bodies cast to the dogs to be\ndevoured, to receive Ganem\u2019s mother and sister into their houses, or to\ngive them a morsel of bread or a drop of water; and, in a word, to afford\nthem the least support, or hold the least correspondence with them.\n\nWhen the criers had performed what the king had enjoined them, that\nprince ordered the mother and the daughter to be turned out of the\npalace, and left to their choice to go where they thought fit. As soon as\never they appeared, all persons fled from them, so great an impression\nhad the late prohibition made upon them all. They easily perceived that\nevery body shunned them; but not knowing the reason of it, they were much\nsurprised; and their amazement was the greater, when, coming into any\nstreet, or among several persons, they knew some of their best friends,\nwho presently vanished with as much haste as the rest. What is the\nmeaning of this? said Ganem\u2019s mother: do we carry the plague about us?\nMust the unjust and barbarous usage we have received render us odious to\nour fellow-citizens? Come, my child, added she, let us depart from\nDamascus with all speed; let us not stay any longer in a city where we\nare become frightful to our very friends.\n\nThe two wretched ladies, discoursing after this manner, came to one of\nthe ends of the city, and retired to a ruined house, to pass the night.\nThither some Mussulmen, or believers, out of charity and compassion,\nresorted to them after the day was shut in. They carried them provisions,\nbut durst not stay to comfort them, for fear of being discovered, and\npunished for disobeying the caliph\u2019s orders.\n\nIn the mean time, king Zinebi had let fly a pigeon, to give Haroun\nAlraschid an account of his exact obedience. He informed him of all that\nhad been done, and conjured him to direct what he would have done with\nGanem\u2019s mother and sister. He soon received the caliph\u2019s answer the same\nway, which was, that he banished them from Damascus for ever. Immediately\nthe king of Syria sent men to the old house, with orders to take the\nmother and the daughter, and to conduct them three days\u2019 journey from\nDamascus, and there to leave them, forbidding them ever to return to the\ncity.\n\nZinebi\u2019s men executed their commission; but being less precise than their\nmaster, in the strict performance of every tittle of Haroun Alraschid\u2019s\norders, they in pity gave Alcolomb and her mother some small pieces of\nmoney to buy them some subsistence, and each of them a bag, which they\nhung about their necks, to carry their provisions.\n\nIn this miserable condition, they came to the first village. The peasants\nflocked about them; and as it appeared through their disguise that they\nwere people of some fashion, they asked them what was the occasion of\ntheir travelling after that manner, in a habit that did not seem properly\nto belong to them. Instead of answering the question put to them, they\nfell a-weeping, which only served to heighten the curiosity of the\npeasants, and to move them to compassion. Ganem\u2019s mother told them what\nshe and her daughter had endured; at which the good countrywomen were\nsensibly afflicted, and endeavoured to comfort them. They treated them as\nwell as their poverty would permit; they took off their horse-hair\nsmocks, which were very uneasy, and put on others they gave them, with\nshoes, and something to cover their heads, and save their hair.\n\nHaving expressed their gratitude to those charitable women, Alcolomb and\nher mother departed that village, taking short journeys towards Aleppo.\nThey used at night to lie near the mosques, or in them, upon the mat, if\nthere was any, or else on the bare pavement; and sometimes put up in the\nplaces appointed for the use of travellers. As for sustenance, they did\nnot want; for they often came to places where bread, boiled rice, and\nother provisions, are distributed to all travellers who desire it.\n\nAt length they came to Aleppo, but would not stay there, and holding on\ntheir journey towards the Euphrates, crossed that river, and entered into\nMesopotamia, which they traversed as far as Moussoul. Thence,\nnotwithstanding all they had endured, they proceeded to Bagdad. That was\nthe place they had fixed their thoughts upon, hoping to find Ganem there,\nthough they ought not to have fancied that he was in a city where the\ncaliph resided: but they hoped, because they wished it; their affection\nrather increasing than diminishing, in spite of all their misfortunes.\nTheir discourse was generally about him, and they inquired for him of all\nthey met. But let us leave Alcolomb and her mother, to return to Fetnah.\n\nShe was still confined close in the dark tower, ever since the day that\nhad been so fatal to Ganem and her. However, disagreeable as her prison\nwas to her, it was much less grievous than the thoughts of Ganem\u2019s\nmisfortune, the uncertainty of whose fate was a killing affliction to\nher. There was scarce a moment in which she did not lament him.\n\nOne night when the caliph was walking by himself within the enclosure of\nhis palace, as he frequently did; for he was the most prying prince in\nthe world, and sometimes, by means of those night-walks, he came to the\nknowledge of things that happened in his palace, which would otherwise\nnever have come to his ear: one of these nights, in his walk, he happened\nto pass by the dark tower, and fancying he heard somebody talk, he\nstopped, and drew near the door to listen, and distinctly heard these\nwords, which Fetnah, whose thoughts were always on Ganem, uttered with a\nloud voice: O Ganem! too unfortunate Ganem! where are you at this time?\nwhither has thy cruel fate led thee? Alas! it is I that have made you\nmiserable! Why did you not let me perish unhappily, rather than afford me\nyour generous relief? What a dismal reward have you received for your\ncare and respect! The commander of the faithful, who ought to have\nrequited, persecutes you; and in return for having always looked upon me\nas a person reserved for his bed, you lose all your goods, and are\nobliged to seek for safety in flight. O caliph! barbarous caliph! what\nwill you say for yourself when you shall appear with Ganem before the\ntribunal of the Supreme Judge, and the angels shall testify the truth\nbefore your face! All the power you are now invested with, and which\nmakes the best part of the world quake, will not prevent your being\ncondemned and punished for your violent and unjust proceedings. Here\nFetnah ceased her complaint, her sighs and tears putting a stop to her\ntongue.\n\nThis was enough to bring the caliph to himself. He plainly perceived,\nthat if what he had heard was true, his favourite must be innocent, and\nthat he had been too rash in giving orders against Ganem and his family.\nBeing resolved to be rightly informed in an affair which so nearly\nconcerned him, in point of equity, on which he valued himself, he\nimmediately returned to his apartment, and that moment ordered Mesrour to\nrepair to the dark tower and bring Fetnah to him.\n\nBy this command, and much more by the caliph\u2019s way of delivery, the chief\nof the eunuchs guessed that his master designed to pardon his favourite,\nand take her to him again. He was overjoyed at it, for he loved Fetnah,\nand had been much concerned at her disgrace; and therefore flying to the\ntower, Madam, said he to the favourite, with such an air as expressed his\nsatisfaction, be pleased to follow me: I hope you will never more return\nto this vile dark tower: the commander of the faithful has a mind to\nspeak with you, and I have reason to hope for a happy issue.\n\nFetnah followed Mesrour, who conducted her into the caliph\u2019s closet. She\nprostrated herself before that prince, and so continued, letting fall a\nshower of tears. Fetnah, said the caliph, without bidding her rise, I\nthink you charge me with violence and injustice. Who is he, who,\nnotwithstanding the regard and respect he had for me, is in a miserable\ncondition? Speak freely; you know how good-natured I am, and that I love\nto do justice.\n\nBy these words the favourite conceived that the caliph had heard what she\nhad said; and laying hold on so favourable an opportunity to clear her\ndear Ganem, she said, Commander of the true believers, if I have let fall\nany word that is not agreeable to your majesty, I most humbly beseech you\nto forgive me; but he whose innocence and misfortune you desire to be\nacquainted with, is Ganem, the unhappy son of Abou Ayoub, merchant in\nDamascus. He is the man that saved my life, and afforded me a safe\nsanctuary in his house. I must own, that, from the first moment he saw\nme, he perhaps designed to devote himself to me, and conceived hopes of\nengaging me to admit of his service. I guessed at this, by the eagerness\nhe showed in entertaining, and giving me all the attendance which was\nrequisite under the circumstances I was then in; but as soon as he heard\nthat I had the honour to belong to you, Alas, madam, said he, \u2018That which\nbelongs to the master is forbidden to the slave.\u2019 From that moment, I owe\nthis justice to his virtue, his behaviour was always suitable to his\nwords. However, you well know with what rigour you have treated him, and\nyou will answer for it before the tribunal of God.\n\nThe caliph was not displeased with Fetnah for the freedom of those words.\nBut may I, answered he, rely on the assurances you give me of Ganem\u2019s\nvirtue? Yes, replied Fetnah, you may; I would not for the world conceal\nthe truth from you: and to make out to you that I am sincere, I must own\none thing to you, which perhaps may displease you; but I beg pardon of\nyour majesty beforehand. Speak, child, said Haroun Alraschid; I forgive\nall, provided you conceal nothing from me. Well then, replied Fetnah, let\nme inform you, that Ganem\u2019s respectful behaviour, together with all the\ngood offices he did me, gained him my esteem. I went farther yet: you\nknow the tyranny of love; I felt some tender inclination growing in my\nbreast. He perceived it, but was still far from taking an advantage of my\nfrailty: and notwithstanding the flame which consumed him, he still\nremained steady in his duty; and all his passion could force from him,\nwere those words I have already told your majesty, \u2018That which belongs to\nthe master is forbidden to the slave.\u2019\n\nThis ingenuous confession might have provoked any other man than the\ncaliph; but it was the very thing which quite appeased that prince. He\ncommanded her to rise, and making her sit by him, Tell me your story,\nsaid he, from the beginning to the end. She did so with much art and wit,\nslightly passing over what regarded Zobeide, and dilating on the\nobligations she owed Ganem, the expense he had been at for her; and,\nabove all, she highly extolled his discretion, endeavouring by that means\nto make the caliph sensible that she had been under the necessity of\nlying concealed in Ganem\u2019s house, to deceive Zobeide. She concluded with\nthe young merchant\u2019s escape, which she plainly told the caliph she had\ncompelled him to, that he might avoid his indignation.\n\nWhen she had done speaking, the caliph said to her, I believe all you\nhave told me; but why was it so long before you let me hear from you? Was\nthere any need of staying a whole month after my return, before you sent\nme word where you were? Commander of the true believers, answered Fetnah,\nGanem went abroad so very seldom, that you need not wonder that we were\nnone of the first that heard of your return. Besides that, Ganem, who\ntook upon him to deliver the letter I wrote to Nouron Nihar, was a long\ntime before he could find an opportunity of putting it into her own\nhands.\n\nIt is enough, Fetnah, replied the caliph; I own my fault, and would\nwillingly make amends for it by heaping favours on that young merchant of\nDamascus; therefore consider what I can do for him: ask what you think\nfit, and I will grant it. Hereupon the favourite fell down at the\ncaliph\u2019s feet, with her face flat on the ground; and then rising again,\nsaid, Commander of the true believers, after returning your majesty\nthanks for Ganem, I most humbly entreat you to cause it to be published\nthroughout all your dominions, that you pardon the son of Abou Ayoub, and\nthat he may safely come to you. I will do more, rejoined that prince, in\nrequital for having saved your life, and the respect he has bore to me,\nand to make amends for the loss of his goods; and, in short, to repair\nthe wrong I have done to his family, I give him to you for a husband.\nFetnah had not words expressive enough to thank the caliph for his\ngenerosity. She then withdrew into the apartment she had before her\ndismal adventure. The same furniture was still in it; nothing had been\nremoved; but that which pleased her most, was, to find there Ganem\u2019s\nchests and packs, which Mesrour had taken care to convey thither.\n\nThe next day Haroun Alraschid ordered the grand vizier to cause\nproclamation to be made throughout all his dominions, that he pardoned\nthe son of Abou Ayoub; but this proved of no effect, for a long time\nelapsed without any news of that young merchant. Fetnah concluded for\ncertain, that he had not been able to survive the pain of losing her. A\ndreadful uneasiness seized her; but as hope is the last thing which\nforsakes lovers, she entreated the caliph to give her leave to seek for\nGanem herself; which being granted, she took a purse with a thousand\npieces of gold out of her basket, and one morning went out of the palace,\nmounted on a mule she had out of the caliph\u2019s stables, very richly\naccoutred. Black eunuchs attended her, with their hands on each side upon\nthe mule\u2019s buttocks.\n\nThus she went from mosque to mosque, bestowing her alms among the\ndevotees of the Mahometan religion, desiring their prayers for obtaining\nthe accomplishment of an affair on which the happiness of two persons, as\nshe told them, depended. She spent the whole day and the thousand pieces\nof gold, in giving alms at the mosques, and returned to the palace in the\nevening.\n\nThe next day she took another purse of the same value, and, in the like\nequipage as the day before, went to the place where all the jewellers\u2019\nshops were; and stopping at the door without alighting, sent one of her\nblack eunuchs for the syndic, or chief of them. That syndic, who was an\nextraordinary charitable man, and spent above two-thirds of his income in\nrelieving poor strangers, whether they happened to be sick or in\ndistress, made not Fetnah stay, knowing by her dress that she was a lady\nbelonging to the palace. I apply myself to you, said she, putting the\npurse into his hands, as a person whose piety is cried up throughout the\ncity. I desire you to distribute that gold among the poor strangers you\nrelieve, for I know you make it your business to assist poor strangers\nwho have recourse to your charity. I am also satisfied that you prevent\ntheir wants, and that nothing is more agreeable to you than to have an\nopportunity of easing their misery. Madam, answered the syndic, I shall\nobey your commands with pleasure; but if you desire to exercise your\ncharity in person, and will be pleased to step to my house, you will\nthere see two women worthy of your compassion: I met them yesterday as\nthey were coming into the city; they were in a deplorable condition, and\nit moved me the more, because I thought they were persons of some\nquality. Through all the rags that covered them, and notwithstanding the\nimpression the sun has made on their faces, I discovered a noble air, not\nto be commonly found in those poor people I relieve. I carried them both\nto my house, and delivered them to my wife, who was of the same opinion\nwith me. She caused her slaves to provide them good beds, whilst she\nherself washed their faces, and gave them clean linen. We know not as yet\nwho they are, because we will let them take some rest before we trouble\nthem with our questions.\n\nFetnah, without being able to give any reason for it, had a curiosity to\nsee them. The syndic would have conducted her to his house, but she would\nnot give him the trouble, and was satisfied that a slave of his should go\nand show her the way. She alighted at the door, and followed the syndic\u2019s\nslave, who was gone on before to give notice to his mistress, she being\nthen in the chamber with Alcolomb and her mother, for they were the\npersons the syndic had been talking of to Fetnah.\n\nThe syndic\u2019s wife, being informed by the slave that a court-lady was in\nher house, was going out of the room to meet her; but Fetnah, who had\nfollowed close to the slave\u2019s heels, did not give her so much time, and\ncoming into the chamber, the syndic\u2019s wife fell down before her, to\nexpress the respect she had for all that belonged to the caliph. Fetnah\ntook her up, and said, My good lady, I desire you would let me speak with\nthose two strangers that arrived at Bagdad last night. Madam, answered\nthe syndic\u2019s wife, they lie in those two little beds you see close by\neach other. The favourite immediately drew near the mother\u2019s, and viewing\nher carefully, Good woman, said she, I come to offer you my assistance: I\nhave a considerable interest in this city, and may be assisting to you\nand your companion. Madam, answered Ganem\u2019s mother, I perceive by your\nobliging offers that Heaven has not quite forsaken us, though we have\ncause to believe it, after so many misfortunes as have befallen us.\nHaving uttered these words, she wept so bitterly that Fetnah and the\nsyndic\u2019s wife could not forbear letting fall some tears.\n\nThe caliph\u2019s favourite, having dried up hers, said to Ganem\u2019s mother, Be\nso kind as to tell us your misfortunes, and recount your story. You\ncannot give the relation to any persons better disposed than we are to\nuse all possible means to comfort you. Madam, replied Abou Ayoub\u2019s\ndisconsolate widow, a favourite of the commander of the true believers, a\nlady whose name is Fetnah, is the occasion of all our misfortunes. These\nwords were like a thunderbolt to the favourite: but suppressing her\nconcern and uneasiness, she suffered Ganem\u2019s mother to proceed, who did\nit after this manner: I am the widow of Abou Ayoub, a merchant of\nDamascus; I had a son, called Ganem, who, coming to trade at Bagdad, has\nbeen accused of having debauched that Fetnah. The caliph has caused\nsearch to be made for him every where, to put him to death; and not\nfinding him, wrote to the king of Damascus, to cause our house to be\nplundered and razed, and to expose my daughter and me three days\nsuccessively, stark naked, to be seen by the people, and then to banish\nus out of Syria for ever.\n\nBut how unworthy soever our usage has been, I should still be comforted,\nwere my son alive, and I could meet with him. What a pleasure would it be\nfor his sister and me to see him again! Embracing him, we should forget\nthe loss of our goods, and all the evils we have suffered for him. Alas!\nI am fully persuaded he is the innocent cause of them; and that he is no\nmore guilty towards the caliph, than his sister and I.\n\nNo doubt of it, said Fetnah, interrupting her there; he is no more guilty\nthan you are; I can assure you of his innocence, for I am that very\nFetnah you so much complain of, who, through some fatality in my stars,\nhave occasioned so many misfortunes. To me you must impute the loss of\nyour son, if he is no more; but if I have occasioned your misfortune, I\ncan in some measure relieve it. I have already cleared Ganem to the\ncaliph, who has caused it to be proclaimed throughout his dominions, that\nhe pardons the son of Abou Ayoub; and I do not question but that he will\ndo you as much good as he has done you harm. You are no longer his\nenemies: he expects Ganem to requite the service he has done me by\nuniting our fortunes: he gives me to him for his consort; therefore look\non me as your daughter, and permit me to vow an eternal friendship to\nyou. Having so said, she bowed down on Ganem\u2019s mother, who was so\nastonished that she could return no answer. Fetnah held her a long time\nin her arms, and only left her to run to the other bed to Alcolomb, who,\nsitting up, held out her arms to receive her.\n\nWhen the caliph\u2019s charming favourite had given the mother and daughter\nall the tokens of affection they could expect from Ganem\u2019s wife, she said\nto them, Cease both of you to afflict yourselves: the wealth Ganem had in\nthis city is not lost; it is in my apartment in the palace; but I know\nall the treasure in the world cannot comfort you without Ganem: I judge\nso of his mother and sister, if I may judge of them by myself; blood is\nno less powerful than love in great minds. But why should we despair of\nseeing him again? We shall find him: the good fortune of meeting with you\nmakes me conceive fresh hopes: and perhaps this is the last day of your\nsufferings, and the beginning of a greater felicity than you enjoyed in\nDamascus when Ganem was with you.\n\nFetnah would have gone on, when the syndic of the jewellers came in,\nsaying, Madam, I am come from seeing a very moving object; it is a young\nman, a camel-driver, who was carrying to the hospital of Bagdad: he was\nbound with cords on a camel, because he had not strength enough to sit\nhim. They had already unbound, and were carrying him into the hospital,\nwhen I happened to be passing by. I went close up to the young man,\nviewed him carefully, and fancied his countenance was not altogether\nunknown to me. I asked him some questions concerning his family and his\ncountry; but all the answer I could get, consisted only in sighs and\ntears. I took pity on him, and perceiving, by being so much used to sick\npeople, that he had great need to have particular care taken of him, I\nwould not permit him to be put into the hospital; for I am too well\nacquainted with their way of looking to the sick, and am sensible of the\nincapacity of the physicians. I have caused him to be brought home to my\nhouse by my slaves; and they are now, by my orders, putting on some of my\nown linen, and serving him as they would do me, in a chamber for that\npurpose.\n\nFetnah\u2019s heart leaped at these words of the jeweller, and she felt a\nsudden emotion, for which she could not account. Show me, said she to the\nsyndic, into that sick man\u2019s room; I would gladly see him. The syndic\nconducted her, and whilst she was going thither, Ganem\u2019s mother said to\nAlcolomb, Alas! daughter, as wretched as that sick stranger is, your\nbrother, if he be living, is not perhaps in a more happy condition.\n\nThe caliph\u2019s favourite, coming into the chamber where the sick man was,\ndrew near the bed, into which the syndic\u2019s slaves had already laid him.\nShe saw a young man whose eyes were closed, his countenance pale,\ndisfigured, and bathed in tears. She gazed earnestly on him, her heart\nbeat, and she fancied she beheld Ganem; but yet she would not believe her\neyes. Though she found something of Ganem in the object she beheld, yet,\nin other respects, he appeared so different, that she durst not imagine\nit was he that lay before her. However, not being able to withstand the\nearnest desire of being satisfied, Ganem, said she, with a quivering\nvoice, is it you I behold? Having spoken these words, she stopped to give\nthe young man time to answer; but observing that he seemed insensible,\nAlas! Ganem, added she, it is not you that I talk to! My imagination\nbeing overcharged with your image, has given this stranger a deceitful\nresemblance: the son of Abou Ayoub, though ever so sick, would know the\nvoice of Fetnah. At the name of Fetnah, Ganem (for it was really he)\nopened his eyes, and turned his face towards the person that spoke to\nhim, and knowing the caliph\u2019s favourite, Ah! madam, said he, what\nmiracle?\u2014\u2014He could say no more; such a sudden transport of joy seized him\nthat he fell into a swoon. Fetnah and the syndic did all they could to\nbring him to himself; but as soon as they perceived he began to revive,\nthe syndic desired the lady to withdraw, for fear lest the sight of her\nshould heighten Ganem\u2019s distemper.\n\nThe young man, having recovered his senses, looked all about, and not\nseeing what he looked for, cried out, What is become of you, charming\nFetnah? did you really appear before mine eyes, or was it only an\nillusion? No, sir, said the syndic, it was no illusion. It was I that\ncaused that lady to withdraw, but you shall see her again as soon as you\nare in a condition to bear her sight. You now stand in need of rest, and\nnothing ought to obstruct your taking it. The posture of your affairs is\naltered, since you are, as I suppose, that Ganem, in favour of whom the\ncommander of the true believers has caused a proclamation to be made in\nBagdad, declaring that he forgives him what is past. Be satisfied for the\npresent, with knowing so much; the lady who just now spoke to you will\nacquaint you with the rest; therefore think of nothing but recovering\nyour health: I will contribute all that shall be in my power towards it.\nHaving spoken these words, he left Ganem to take his rest, and went\nhimself to provide all such medicines for him as were proper to recover\nhis strength, quite spent by want and toil.\n\nDuring that time Fetnah was in the room with Alcolomb and her mother,\nwhere almost the same scene was acted over again; for when Ganem\u2019s mother\nunderstood that the sick man the syndic had then newly brought into his\nhouse was Ganem himself, she was so overjoyed, that she also swooned\naway; and when, with the assistance of Fetnah and the syndic\u2019s wife, she\nwas again come to herself, she would have got up to see her son: but the\nsyndic coming in then, hindered her, giving her to understand that Ganem\nwas so weak and feeble that it would endanger his life, to excite in him\nthose commotions which must be the consequence of the unexpected sight of\na beloved mother and sister. There was no occasion for the syndic\u2019s\nmaking any long discourses to persuade Ganem\u2019s mother: as soon as she was\ntold that she could not discourse to her son without hazarding his life,\nshe ceased insisting to go and see him. Then Fetnah, turning the\ndiscourse, said, Let us bless Heaven for having brought us all together\ninto one place. I will return to the palace to give the caliph an account\nof all these adventures, and to-morrow morning I will return to you: this\nsaid, she embraced the mother and the daughter, and went away. As soon as\nshe came to the palace, she sent Mesrour to desire to be admitted to the\ncaliph in private, which was immediately granted; and being brought into\nthat prince\u2019s closet, where he was alone, she prostrated herself at his\nfeet, with her face on the ground, according to custom. He commanded her\nto rise, and having made her sit down, asked whether she had heard any\nnews of Ganem. Commander of the true believers, said she, I have been so\nsuccessful, that I have found him, as also his mother and sister. The\ncaliph was curious to know how she could find them in so short a time,\nand she satisfied his curiosity, saying so many things in commendation of\nGanem\u2019s mother and sister, that he desired to see them, as well as the\nyoung merchant.\n\nThough Haroun Alraschid was passionate, and in his heat sometimes guilty\nof cruel actions; yet, to make amends, he was just, and the most generous\nprince in the world, as soon as his anger was over, and he was made\nsensible of the wrong he had done. Therefore, having no longer cause to\ndoubt but that he had unjustly persecuted Ganem and his family, and\nhaving publicly wronged them, he resolved to make them public\nsatisfaction. I am overjoyed, said he to Fetnah, that your search has\nproved so successful; it is a mighty satisfaction to me, not so much for\nyour sake as for my own. I will keep the promise I have made you. You\nshall marry Ganem, and I here declare you are no longer my slave. Go back\nto that young merchant; and, as soon as he has recovered his health, you\nshall bring him to me, with his mother and sister.\n\nThe next morning early, Fetnah repaired to the syndic of the jewellers,\nbeing impatient to hear of Ganem\u2019s health, and to tell the mother and\ndaughter the good news she had for them. The first person she met was the\nsyndic, who told her that Ganem had rested very well that night; and that\nhis distemper altogether proceeded from melancholy, and the cause being\nremoved, he would soon recover his health.\n\nAccordingly the son of Abou Ayoub was much mended. Rest, and the good\nmedicines applied to him, but, above all, the easiness of his mind, had\nwrought so good an effect, that the syndic thought he might without\ndanger see his mother, his sister, and his mistress, provided he was\nprepared to receive them; because there was ground to fear that, not\nknowing his mother and sister were at Bagdad, the sight of them might\noccasion too great joy and surprise. It was therefore resolved, that\nFetnah should first go alone into Ganem\u2019s chamber, and then make a sign\nto the two other ladies to appear, when she thought fit.\n\nAffairs being so ordered, the sick man was acquainted with Fetnah\u2019s\ncoming, by the syndic, which was so ravishing a sight to him, that he was\nagain near falling into a swoon. Well, Ganem, said she, drawing near to\nhis bed, you have again found your Fetnah, whom you thought you had lost\nfor ever. Ah! madam, said he, interrupting her, what miracle has restored\nyou to my sight? I thought you were in the caliph\u2019s palace: that prince\nhas doubtless given ear to you. You have dispelled his jealousy, and he\nhas restored you to his favour. Yes, my dear Ganem, answered Fetnah, I\nhave cleared myself before the commander of the true believers, who, to\nmake amends for the wrong he has done you, bestows me on you for a wife.\nThese last words occasioned such an excess of joy in Ganem, that he knew\nnot for a while how to express himself, otherwise than by that passionate\nsilence so well known to lovers. At length he broke out with these words:\nAh, beautiful Fetnah, may I give credit to what you tell me? May I\nbelieve that the caliph really resigns you to Abou Ayoub\u2019s son? Nothing\nis more certain, answered the lady. That prince, who before caused search\nto be made for you to take away your life, and who in his fury caused\nyour mother and your sister to suffer a thousand indignities, desires now\nto see you, that he may reward the respect you had for him; and there is\nno question to be made, but that he will be profuse in his favours to\nyour family.\n\nGanem asked what the caliph had done to his mother and sister, which\nFetnah told him; and he could not forbear letting fall some tears at that\nrelation, notwithstanding his thoughts were so full of the news he had\nheard of being married to his mistress. But when Fetnah informed him that\nthey were actually in Bagdad, and in the same house with him, he appeared\nso impatient to see them, that the favourite could no longer defer giving\nhim that satisfaction; and accordingly called them in. They were then at\nthe door, only waiting that moment. They came in, made up to Ganem, and\nembracing him in their turns, gave him a thousand kisses. How many tears\nwere shed amidst those embraces! Ganem\u2019s face was bathed with them, as\nwell as his mother\u2019s and sister\u2019s; and Fetnah let fall in abundance. The\nsyndic himself, and his wife, being moved at the spectacle, could not\nforbear weeping, nor sufficiently admire the secret workings of\nProvidence, which brought together into their house four persons whom\nfortune had so cruelly parted.\n\nWhen they had all dried up their tears, Ganem drew a fresh supply, by the\nrecital of all he had suffered from the day he left Fetnah, till the\nmoment the syndic brought him to his house. He told them, that having\nreached a small village, he there fell sick; that some charitable\npeasants had taken care of him, but finding he did not recover, a\ncamel-driver had undertaken to carry him to the hospital at Bagdad.\nFetnah, also, told them all the uneasiness of her imprisonment; how the\ncaliph, having heard her talk in the tower, had sent for her into his\ncloset, and how she had cleared herself. In the conclusion, when they had\nall related what accidents had befallen them, Fetnah said, Let us bless\nHeaven, which has brought us all together again, and let us think of\nnothing but the happiness that attends us. As soon as Ganem has recovered\nhis health, he must appear before the caliph with his mother and sister;\nbut because they are not in a condition to be seen, I will go and make\nsome provision for them; so I desire you to stay a moment for me.\n\nThis said, she went away to the palace, and soon returned to the\nsyndic\u2019s, with a purse containing a thousand pieces of gold, which she\ndelivered to the syndic, desiring him to buy clothes for the mother and\ndaughter. The syndic, who was a man of a good fancy, chose such as were\nextraordinary fine, and had them made up with all speed. They were\nfinished in three days, and Ganem, finding himself strong enough to go\nabroad, prepared for it; but on the day he had appointed to go and pay\nhis respects to the caliph, when he was making ready with his mother and\nsister, the grand vizier Giafar came to the syndic\u2019s house.\n\nThat minister came on horseback, attended by a great number of officers.\nSir, said he to Ganem, as soon as he came in, I am come from the\ncommander of the true believers, my master and yours; the orders I have,\ndiffer very much from those which I do not care to revive in your memory.\nI am to bear you company, and to present you to the caliph, who is\ndesirous to see you. Ganem returned no other answer to the vizier\u2019s\ncompliments than by profoundly bowing his head, and then mounted a horse\nbrought from the caliph\u2019s stables, which he managed very gracefully. The\nmother and daughter were mounted on mules belonging to the palace; and\nwhilst Fetnah led them a by-way to the prince\u2019s court, Giafar conducted\nGanem another way, and brought him into the presence-chamber. The caliph\nwas there sitting on his throne, encompassed with emirs, viziers, and\nother attendants and courtiers, Arabs, Persians, Egyptians, Africans, and\nSyrians, of his own dominions, not to mention strangers.\n\nWhen the vizier had conducted Ganem to the foot of the throne, that young\nmerchant paid his obeisance, prostrating himself with his face on the\nground; and then rising, made his compliment in verse, which, though\n_extempore_, met with the approbation of the whole court.\n\nAfter his compliment, the caliph caused him to draw near, and said to\nhim, I am glad to see you, and desire to hear from your own mouth where\nyou found my favourite, and all that you did for her. Ganem obeyed, and\nappeared so sincere, that the caliph was convinced of the reality of what\nhe said. That prince ordered a very rich vest to be given him, according\nto the custom observed with those who are admitted to audience. After\nwhich, he said to him, Ganem, I will have you live in my court. Commander\nof the true believers, answered the young merchant, a slave has no will\nbut his master\u2019s, on whom his life and fortune depend. The caliph was\nhighly pleased with Ganem\u2019s answer, and assigned him a considerable\npension. Then that prince came down from his throne, and causing only\nGanem and the grand vizier to follow him, went into his own apartment.\nNot questioning but Fetnah was there, with Abou Ayoub\u2019s widow and\ndaughter, he caused them to be called in. They fell down before him: he\nmade them rise, and was so taken with Alcolomb\u2019s beauty, that, after\nviewing her very attentively, he said, I am so sorry for having treated\nyour charms so unworthily, that I owe them such a satisfaction as may\nsurpass the injury I have done them: I take you to wife; and by that\nmeans shall punish Zobeide, who shall become the first cause of your good\nfortune, as she was of your past sufferings. This is not all, added he,\nturning towards Ganem\u2019s mother; you are still young; I believe you will\nnot disdain to be allied to my grand vizier: I give you to Giafar. Let a\ncadi and witnesses be called, and the three contracts be drawn up and\nsigned immediately. Ganem would have represented to the caliph, that it\nwould be honour enough for his sister to be one of his favourites; but\nthat prince was resolved to marry her.\n\nHe thought this such an extraordinary story, that he ordered a famous\nhistorian to commit it to writing, with all its circumstances. It was\nafterwards laid up in his library; and many copies being transcribed from\nthat original, it became public.\n\n\n\n\n THE STORY OF\n PRINCE ZEYN ALASNAM, AND THE KING OF THE GENII.\n\n\nA king of Balsora, who possessed great wealth and was well beloved by his\nsubjects, had no children, which was a great affliction to him; and\ntherefore he made presents to all the holy persons in his dominions to\nengage them to beg a son for him of Heaven: and their prayers being\neffectual, the queen proved with child, and was happily delivered of a\nprince who was named Zeyn Alasnam, which signifies Ornament of the\nStatues.\n\nThe king caused all the astrologers in his kingdom to be assembled, and\nordered them to calculate the infant\u2019s nativity. They found by their\nobservations, that he would live long and be very brave; but that all his\ncourage would be little enough to bear him through the misfortunes that\nwould threaten him. The king was not daunted at the prediction. My son,\nsaid he, is not to be pitied, since he will be brave: it is fit that\nprinces should have a taste of misfortunes; for adversity tries virtue,\nand they are the fitter to reign.\n\nHe rewarded the astrologers, and dismissed them; and caused Zeyn to be\neducated with the greatest care imaginable; appointing him able masters\nas soon as he was of age to receive their instructions. In short, he\nproposed to make him an accomplished prince; when, on a sudden, that good\nking fell sick of a distemper which all the skill of his physicians could\nnot cure. Perceiving his disease was mortal, he sent for his son, and\namong other things advised him rather to endeavour to be beloved than to\nbe feared by his people; not to give ear to flatterers; to be as slow in\nrewarding as in punishing; because it often happens that monarchs, misled\nby false appearances, load wicked men with favours, and oppress the\ninnocent.\n\nAs soon as king Zeyn was dead, prince Zeyn went into mourning, which he\nwore seven days, and the eighth he ascended the throne, taking his\nfather\u2019s seal off the royal treasure, and putting on his own. He began\nthus to taste the sweets of ruling, the pleasure of seeing all his\ncourtiers bow down before him, and make it their whole business to show\ntheir zeal and obedience. In a word, the sovereign power was too\nagreeable to him. He only regarded what his subjects owed to him, without\nconsidering what his duty was towards them, and consequently took little\ncare to govern them well. He wallowed in all sorts of debauchery among\nthe voluptuous youth, on whom he conferred the prime employments in the\nkingdom; so that there was nothing regular. Being naturally prodigal, he\nset no bounds to his grants, so that his women and his favourites\ninsensibly drained his treasure.\n\nThe queen his mother was still living, a discreet wise princess. She had\nseveral times unsuccessfully tried to give some check to her son\u2019s\nprodigality and debauchery; giving him to understand, that if he did not\nsoon take another course, he would not only squander his wealth, but\nwould also alienate the minds of his people, and occasion some\nrevolution, which perhaps might cost him his crown and his life. What she\nhad foretold was very near falling out; the people began to mutter\nagainst the government, and their muttering had certainly been followed\nby a general revolt, had not the queen by her dexterity prevented it. But\nthat princess, being informed of the ill posture of affairs, gave notice\nto the king, who at last suffered himself to be prevailed upon. He\ncommitted the government to discreet ancient men, who knew how to keep\nthe people within the bounds of duty.\n\nZeyn, seeing all his wealth consumed, repented that he had made no better\nuse of it. He fell into a dismal melancholy, and nothing could comfort\nhim. One night he saw in a dream, a venerable old man, who came towards\nhim, and with a smiling countenance said, Know, Zeyn, that there is no\nsorrow but what is followed by mirth, no misfortune but what in the end\nbrings some happiness. If you desire to see the end of your affliction,\nget up, set out for Egypt, go to Grand Cairo: a greater fortune attends\nyou there.\n\nThe prince, when he awaked in the morning, reflected on his dream, and\ntalked of it very seriously to his mother, who only laughed at it. My\nson, said she to him, would you now go into Egypt upon belief of that\nfine dream? Why not, madam? answered Zeyn: do you imagine all dreams are\nchimerical? No, no, some of them are mysterious. My masters have told me\na thousand stories, which will not permit me to doubt of it. Besides,\nthough I were not otherwise convinced, I could not forbear giving some\ncredit to it. The old man that appeared to me had something supernatural.\nHe was not one of those men whom nothing but age makes venerable; there\nappeared a sort of divine air about his person. In short, he was such a\none as our great prophet is represented; and if you will have me tell you\nwhat I think, I believe it was he, who, pitying my affliction, designs to\nease it: I rely on the confidence he has inspired me with. I am full of\nhis promises, and have resolved to follow his advice. The queen\nendeavoured to dissuade him; but it was in vain. The prince committed to\nher the government of the kingdom, set out one night very privately from\nhis palace, and took the road to Cairo, without suffering any person to\nattend him.\n\nAfter much trouble and fatigue, he arrived at that famous city, like\nwhich there are few in the world either for extent or beauty. He alighted\nat the gate of a mosque, where, being spent with weariness, he lay down.\nNo sooner was he fallen asleep, than he saw the same old man, who said to\nhim, I am pleased with you, my son; you have given credit to my words.\nYou are come hither, without being deterred by the length or the\ndifficulties of the way: but take notice, that I have not put you upon\nundertaking such a long journey upon any other design than to make trial\nof you. I find you have courage and resolution. You deserve I should make\nyou the greatest and richest prince in the world. Return to Balsora, and\nyou shall find immense wealth in your palace. No king ever possessed so\nmuch as is there.\n\nThe prince was not pleased with that dream.\u2014Alas! thought he to himself,\nwhen he awaked, how much was I mistaken! That old man, whom I took for\nour prophet, is no other than the product of my disturbed imagination. My\nfancy was so full of him, that it is no wonder I have seen him again. I\nhad best return to Balsora; what should I do here any longer? It is very\nhappy that I told none but my mother the occasion of my journey: I should\nbecome a jest to my people if they knew it.\n\nAccordingly he set out again for his kingdom; and as soon as he arrived\nthere, the queen asked him, whether he returned well pleased. He told her\nall that had happened; and he was so much concerned for having been so\ncredulous, that the queen, instead of adding to his vexation by reproving\nor laughing at him, comforted him. Forbear afflicting yourself, my son,\nsaid she; if God has appointed you riches, you will have them without any\ntrouble. Be easy: all that I recommend to you is, to be virtuous.\nRenounce the delight of dancing, music, and high-coloured wine: shun all\npleasures; they have already almost ruined you: apply yourself to the\nmaking of your subjects happy; and, securing their happiness, you will\nfix your own.\n\nPrince Zeyn swore he would for the future follow his mother\u2019s advice, and\nbe directed by the wise viziers she had made choice of to assist him in\nsupporting the weight of the government. But the very first night after\nhe returned to his palace, he the third time saw in a dream the old man,\nwho said to him, Brave Zeyn, the time of your prosperity is come.\nTo-morrow morning, as soon as you are up, take a little pick-axe, and go\ndig in your father\u2019s closet; you will there find a mighty treasure.\n\nAs soon as the prince awaked, he got up, ran to the queen\u2019s apartment,\nand with much earnestness told her the new dream of that night. Really,\nmy son, said his mother, that is a very positive man: he is not satisfied\nwith having deceived you twice; have you a mind to believe him again? No,\nmadam, answered Zeyn, I give no credit to what he has said; but I will,\nfor my own satisfaction, search my father\u2019s closet. I really fancied so,\ncried the queen, laughing very heartily: go, my son, please yourself; my\ncomfort is, that work is not so toilsome as the journey to Egypt.\n\nWell, madam, answered the king, I must own that this third dream has\nrestored my belief, for it agrees with the two others; and, in short, let\nus examine the old man\u2019s words. He first directed me to go into Egypt;\nthere he told me, he had put me upon taking that journey only to try me.\nReturn to Balsora, said he; that is the place where you are to find\ntreasures: this night he has exactly pointed out the place where they\nare. These three dreams, in my opinion, are connected. After all, they\nmay be chimerical; but I would rather search in vain, than blame myself\nas long as I live for having perhaps missed of great riches, by being\nunseasonably too hard of belief.\n\nHaving spoken these words, he left the queen\u2019s apartment, caused a\npick-axe to be brought him, and went alone into the late king\u2019s closet.\nHe fell to breaking up the ground, and took up above half the square\nstones it was paved with; and yet found not the least appearance of what\nhe sought after. He ceased working to take a little rest, thinking within\nhimself, I am much afraid my mother had cause enough to laugh at me.\nHowever, he took heart, and went on with his labour: nor had he cause to\nrepent; for, on a sudden, he discovered a white stone, which he took up,\nand under it found a door made fast with a steel padlock, which he broke\nwith the pick-axe, and opened the door, which covered a staircase of\nwhite marble. He immediately lighted a candle, and went down those stairs\ninto a room, the floor whereof was laid with tiles of china-ware, and the\nroofs and walls were of crystal; but he particularly fixed his eyes on\nfour places a little raised above the rest of the floor, on each of which\nthere were ten urns of porphyry stone. He fancied they were full of wine:\nWell, said he, that wine must needs be very old; I do not question but it\nis excellent. He went up to one of the urns, took off the cover, and,\nwith no less joy than surprise, perceived it was full of pieces of gold.\nHe searched all the forty, one after another, and found them full of the\nsame coin, took out a handful, and carried it to the queen.\n\nThat princess was as much amazed as can be imagined, when the king gave\nher an account of what he had seen. Oh! my son, said she, take heed that\nyou do not lavish away all that treasure foolishly, as you have already\ndone the royal treasure: let not your enemies have so much occasion to\nrejoice. No, madam, answered Zeyn, I will from henceforward live after\nsuch a manner as shall be pleasing to you.\n\nThe queen desired the king her son to conduct her to that wonderful\nsubterraneous place, which the late king her husband had made with such\nsecrecy, that she had never heard the least account of it. Zeyn led her\nto the closet, down the marble stairs, and into the chamber where the\nurns were. She observed every thing with singular curiosity, and in a\ncorner spied a little urn of the same sort of stone as the others. The\nprince had not before taken notice of it, but opening, found in it a\ngolden key. My son, said the queen, the key certainly belongs to some\nother treasure; let us look all about; perhaps we may discover the use it\nis designed for.\n\nThey viewed all the chamber with the utmost exactness, and at length\nfound a key-hole in one of the pannels of the wall, and guessed it to be\nthat the key belonged to. The king immediately tried, and as readily\nopened the door, which led into a chamber, in the midst of which were\nnine pedestals of massy gold, on eight of which stood as many statues,\neach of them made of one single diamond, and from them came such a\nbrightness that the whole room was perfectly light.\n\nO Heavens! cried Zeyn, in a wonderful surprise, where could my father\nfind such rarities? The ninth pedestal redoubled their amazement, for it\nwas covered with a piece of white satin, on which were written these\nwords: \u2018Dear son, it cost me much toil to get these statues: but though\nthey are extraordinary beautiful, you must understand that there is a\nninth in the world which surpasses them all: that alone is worth more\nthan a thousand such as these. If you desire to be master of it, go to\nthe city of Cairo in Egypt: one of my old slaves, whose name is Morabec,\nlives there; you will easily find him; the first person you shall meet\nwill show you his house: go seek, and tell him all that has befallen you.\nHe will know you to be my son, and he will conduct you to the place where\nthat wonderful statue is, which you will get with safety.\u2019\n\nThe prince, having read those words, said to the queen, I will not be\nwithout that ninth statue; it must certainly be a very rare piece, since\nall these here are not of so great value together. I will set out\nspeedily for Grand Cairo; nor do I believe, madam, that you will oppose\nmy design. No, my son, answered the queen, I am not against it: you are\ncertainly under the special protection of our great prophet; he will not\nsuffer you to perish in this journey. Set out when you think fit; your\nviziers and I will take care of the government during your absence. The\nprince made ready his equipage, but would take only a small number of\nslaves with him.\n\nNothing remarkable befell him by the way; but arriving at Cairo, he\ninquired for Morabec. The people told him he was one of the wealthiest\ninhabitants of the city; that he lived like a great lord, and that he\nkept open house, especially for strangers. Zeyn was conducted thither,\nknocked at the gate, which a slave opened, and said, What is your want?\nand who are you? I am a stranger, answered the prince; and, having heard\nmuch of lord Morabec\u2019s generosity, am come to take up my lodging with\nhim. The slave desired Zeyn to stay a while, and went to acquaint his\nmaster, who ordered him to desire the stranger to walk in. The slave\nreturned to the gate, and told the prince he was welcome.\n\nZeyn went in, crossed a large court, and entered into a hall\nmagnificently furnished, where Morabec expected him, and received him\nvery courteously, returning thanks for the honour he did him in accepting\nof a lodging in his house. The prince, having answered his compliments,\nsaid to Morabec, I am son to the late king of Balsora, and my name is\nZeyn Alasnam. The king, said Morabec, was formerly my master; but, my\nlord, I never knew of any children he had. What age are you of? I am\ntwenty years old, answered the prince. How long is it since you left my\nfather\u2019s court? Almost two and twenty years, replied Morabec. But how can\nyou convince me that you are his son? My father, replied Zeyn, had a\nsubterraneous place under his closet, in which I have found forty\nporphyry urns full of gold. And what more is there? said Morabec. There\nare, answered the prince, nine pedestals of massy gold, on eight whereof\nare eight diamond statues, and on the ninth is a piece of white satin, on\nwhich my father has written what I am to do to get another statue, more\nvaluable than all those together. You know where the statue is; for it\nmentioned on the satin that you will conduct me to it.\n\nAs soon as he had spoken these words, Morabec fell down at his feet, and\nkissing one of his hands several times, said, I bless God for having\nbrought you hither: I know you to be the king of Balsora\u2019s son. If you\nwill go to the palace where the wonderful statue is, I will conduct you;\nbut you must first rest here a few days. This day I treat the great men\nof the court: we were at table when word was brought me of your being at\nthe door. Will you vouchsafe to come and be merry with us? I shall be\nvery glad, replied Zeyn, to be admitted to your feast. Morabec\nimmediately led him into a dome where the company was, seated him at\ntable, and served him on his knee. The great men of Cairo were surprised,\nand whispered to one another, Who is this stranger to whom Morabec pays\nso much respect?\n\nWhen they had dined, Morabec, directing his discourse to the company,\nsaid, Great men of Cairo, do not think much to see me serve this young\nstranger after this manner: be it known to you, that he is the son of the\nking of Balsora, my master. His father purchased me with his money, and\ndied without making me free; so that I am still a slave, and consequently\nall I have of right belongs to this young prince, his sole heir. Here\nZeyn interrupted him, saying, Morabec, I declare before all these lords,\nthat I make you free from this moment, and that I renounce all right to\nyour person, and all you possess. Consider what you would have me do more\nfor you. Morabec then kissed the ground, and returned the prince most\nhearty thanks. Wine was then brought in, which they drank all the day,\nand towards evening presents were distributed among the guests, who then\nwent away.\n\nThe next day, Zeyn said to Morabec, I have taken rest enough: I came not\nto Cairo to take my pleasure; my design is to get the ninth statue: it is\ntime for us to set out in search of it. Sir, said Morabec, I am ready to\ncomply with your desires; but you know not what dangers you must\nencounter to gain the precious conquest. Whatsoever the danger may be,\nanswered the prince, I am resolved to undertake it; I will either perish\nor succeed. All that happens in this world is by God\u2019s direction: do you\nbut bear me company, and let your resolution be equal to mine.\n\nMorabec finding him resolved to set out, called his servants, and ordered\nthem to make ready his equipage. Then the prince and he performed the\nablution, or washing, and the prayer enjoined, which is called Farz; and,\nthat done, they set out. By the way they took notice of abundance of\nstrange and wonderful things, and travelled many days; at the end\nwhereof, being come to a delicious place, they alighted from their\nhorses. Then Morabec said to all the servants that attended them, Do you\nstay in this place, and take care of our equipage till we return. Next,\nhe said to Zeyn, Now, sir, let us two go on by ourselves: we are near the\ndreadful place where the ninth statue is kept. You will stand in need of\nall your courage.\n\nThey soon came to a lake; and Morabec sat down on the brink of it, saying\nto the prince, We must cross this sea. How can we cross it, answered\nZeyn, when we have no boat? You will see one appear in a moment, replied\nMorabec: the enchanted boat of the king of the genii will come for us.\nBut do not forget what I am going to say to you: you must observe a\nprofound silence; do not speak to the waterman, though his figure seem\never so strange to you: whatsoever you observe, say nothing: for I tell\nyou beforehand, that if you utter the least word when you are embarked,\nthe boat will sink down. I shall take care to hold my peace, said the\nprince: you need only tell me what I am to do, and I will strictly\nobserve it.\n\nWhilst they were talking, he spied on a sudden a boat in the lake, and it\nwas made of red sanders. It had a mast of fine amber, and a blue satin\nflag. There was only one waterman in it, whose head was like an\nelephant\u2019s, and his body like a tiger\u2019s. When the boat was come up to the\nprince and Morabec, the monstrous waterman took them up one after another\nwith his trunk, and put them into the boat, and then carried them over\nthe lake in a moment. He then again took them up with his trunk, set them\nashore, and immediately vanished with his boat.\n\nNow we may talk, said Morabec: the island we are on belongs to the king\nof the genii; there are no more such throughout the world. Look all about\nyou, prince; can there be a more delightful place? It is certainly a\nlively representation of the charming place God has appointed for the\nfaithful observers of our law. Behold the fields, adorned with all sorts\nof flowers and odoriferous plants: admire those fine trees, whose\ndelicious fruit makes the branches hang down to the ground: enjoy the\ndelight of those harmonious songs formed in the air by a thousand birds,\nof as many various sorts, unknown in other countries. Zeyn could never\nsufficiently admire the beauty of those things that were about him, and\nstill found something new as he advanced farther into the island.\n\nAt length they came before a palace all of fine emeralds, encompassed\nwith a ditch, on the banks whereof, at certain distances, were planted\nsuch tall trees that they shaded the whole palace. Before the gate, which\nwas of massy gold, was a bridge made of one single shell of a fish,\nthough it was at least six fathoms long and three in breadth. At the head\nof the bridge stood a company of genii, of a prodigious height, who\nguarded the entrance into the castle with great clubs of china steel.\n\nLet us go no farther, said Morabec; these genii will beat our brains out;\nand if we would prevent their coming to us, we must perform a magical\nceremony. He then drew out of a purse he had under his garment four long\nstripes of yellow taffety; one he put about his middle, and laid the\nother on his back, giving the other two to the prince, who did the like.\nThen Morabec laid on the ground two large table-cloths, on the edges\nwhereof he scattered some precious stones, musk, and amber. Then he sat\ndown on one of those cloths, and Zeyn on the other; and Morabec said to\nthe prince, I will now, sir, conjure the king of the genii, who lives in\nthe palace that is before us, that he may come peaceably to us. I confess\nI am somewhat uneasy about the reception he is like to give us. If our\ncoming into this island is displeasing to him, he will appear in the\nshape of a dreadful monster; but if he approves of our design, he will\ncome in the shape of a handsome man. As soon as he appears before us, you\nmust rise and salute him, without going off your cloth; for you would\ncertainly perish, should you stir off it. You may say to him, Sovereign\nlord of the genii, my father, who was your servant, has been taken away\nby the angel of death; I wish your majesty may protect me, as you always\nprotected my father. If the king of the genii ask you what favour you\ndesire of him, you must answer, Sir, I most humbly beg of you to give me\nthe ninth statue.\n\nMorabec having thus instructed prince Zeyn, began his conjuration.\nImmediately their eyes were dazzled with a long flash of lightning, which\nwas followed by a clap of thunder. The whole island was covered with a\nhideous darkness, a furious storm of wind blew, a dreadful cry was heard,\nthe island felt a shock, and there was such an earthquake as that which\nAsrasyel is to cause on the day of judgment.\n\nZeyn was somewhat startled, and began to look upon that noise as a very\nill omen, when Morabec, who knew better than he what to think of it,\nbegan to smile, and said, Be not dismayed, my prince, all goes well. In\nshort, that very moment the king of the genii appeared in the shape of a\nvery handsome man; yet there was something of sternness in his air.\n\nAs soon as prince Zeyn had made him the compliment he had been taught by\nMorabec, the king of the genii, smiling, answered, My son, I loved your\nfather; and every time he came to pay me his respects, I presented him\nwith a statue, which he carried away with him. I have no less kindness\nfor you. I obliged your father, some days before he died, to write that\nwhich you read on the piece of white satin. I promised him to receive you\nunder my protection, and to give you the ninth statue, which in beauty\nsurpasses those you have already. I have begun to perform my promise to\nhim. It was I whom you saw in a dream in the shape of an old man: I\ncaused you to open the subterraneous place where the urns and the statues\nare: I have a great share in all that has befallen you, or rather am the\noccasion of it. I know the motive that brought you hither; and you shall\nobtain what you desire. Though I had not promised your father to give it,\nI would willingly grant it you; but you must first swear to me by all\nthat is sacred, that you will return to this island, and that you will\nbring a maid that is in her fifteenth year, and who has never known man,\nnor desired to know any. She must also be perfectly beautiful, and you so\nmuch master of yourself, as not even to desire to enjoy her, as you are\nconducting her hither.\n\nZeyn took the rash oath that was required of him. But, sir, said he, then\nsuppose I should be so fortunate as to meet with such a maid as you\nrequire, how shall I know that I have found her? I own, answered the king\nof the genii smiling, that you might be mistaken in her mien: that\nknowledge is above the sons of Adam, and therefore I do not intend to\ndepend upon your judgment in that particular; I will give you a\nlooking-glass, which will be surer than your conjectures. When you shall\nhave seen a maid fifteen years of age, perfectly beautiful, you shall\nonly need to look into the glass, in which you shall see the maiden\u2019s\nrepresentation. If she be chaste, the glass will remain clear and\nunsullied; but if, on the contrary, it sullies, that will be a certain\nsign that she has not been always undefiled, or at least that she has\ndesired to cease being so. Do not forget the oath you have taken; be sure\nto keep it, as becomes a man of honour, otherwise I will take away your\nlife, as much kindness as I have for you. Prince Zeyn Alasnam protested\nover again that he would faithfully keep his word.\n\nThen the king of the genii delivered to him a looking-glass, saying, My\nson, you may return when you please: there is the glass you are to make\nuse of. Zeyn and Morabec took leave of the king of the genii, and went\ntowards the lake. The waterman with the elephant\u2019s head brought his boat,\nand carried them over the lake as he had done before. They joined their\nservants, and returned with them again to Cairo.\n\nPrince Alasnam rested a few days at Morabec\u2019s house, and then said to\nhim, Let us go to Bagdad, to seek a maiden for the king of the genii.\nWhy, are we not at Grand Cairo? said Morabec: shall we not there find\nbeautiful maidens enough? You are in the right, answered the prince; but\nhow shall we do to find where they are? Do not trouble yourself about\nthat, sir, answered Morabec; I know a very cunning old woman, whom I will\nintrust with that affair, and she will acquit herself well of it.\n\nAccordingly the old woman found means to show the prince a considerable\nnumber of beautiful maidens of fifteen years of age; but when he had\nviewed them, and came to consult his looking-glass, the fatal touchstone\nof their virtue, the glass always appeared sullied. All the maidens in\nthe court and city, that were in their fifteenth year, underwent the\ntrial one after another, and the glass never remained bright and clear.\n\nWhen they saw there were no chaste maids to be found in Cairo, they went\naway to Bagdad, where they hired a magnificent palace in one of the chief\ncorners of the city, and began to live splendidly. They kept open house;\nand, after all people had eaten in the palace, the fragments were carried\nto the dervises, who, by that means, had convenient subsistence.\n\nThere lived in that quarter an iman, whose name was Boubekir Mouesm, a\nvain, haughty, and envious person: he hated the rich, only because he was\npoor, his misery incensing him against his neighbour\u2019s prosperity. He\nheard talk of Zeyn Alasnam, and of the plenty his house afforded. This\nwas enough for him to take an aversion to that prince; and it proceeded\nso far, that one day, after the evening prayer, in the mosque, he said to\nthe people, Brethren, I have been told a stranger is come to live in our\nward, who is at a prodigious expense every day. How can we tell but that\nthis unknown person is some villain, who has committed a great robbery in\nhis own country, and comes hither to make much of himself? Let us take\nheed, brethren; if the caliph should happen to be informed that such a\nman is in our ward, it is to be feared that he will punish us for not\nacquainting him with it: I declare, for my part, I wash my hands of it;\nand if any thing should happen amiss, it shall not lie at my door. The\nmultitude, who were easily led away, unanimously cried to Boubekir, It is\nyour business, doctor; do you acquaint the council with it. The iman went\nhome well pleased, and drew up a memorial, resolving to present it to the\ncaliph the next day.\n\nBut Morabec, who had been at prayers, and heard all that was said by the\ndoctor as well as the rest of the company, put five hundred pieces of\ngold into a handkerchief, made up with a parcel of several silks, and\nwent away to Boubekir\u2019s house. The doctor asked him in a harsh tone what\nhe wanted. Doctor, answered Morabec, with an obliging air, and at the\nsame time putting into his hand the gold and the silk, I am your\nneighbour and your servant; I come from prince Zeyn, who lives in this\nward. He has heard of your worth, and has ordered me to come and tell\nyou, that he desires to be acquainted with you; and, in the mean time,\ndesires you to accept of this small present. Boubekir was transported\nwith joy, and answered Morabec thus: Be pleased, sir, to beg the prince\u2019s\npardon for me: I am ashamed I have not yet been to see him, but I will\natone for my fault, and wait on him to-morrow.\n\nAccordingly the next day, after morning prayer, he said to the people,\nYou must understand, brethren, that no man is without some enemies. Envy\npursues those chiefly who are very rich. The stranger I spoke to you\nabout yesterday in the evening is no ill man, as some ill-designing\npersons would have persuaded me: he is a young prince, endued with all\nmanner of virtues. It behoves us to take care how we go about to give any\nill account of him to the caliph.\n\nBoubekir, having thus wiped off the ill impression he had the day before\ngiven the people concerning Zeyn, returned home, put on his best apparel,\nand went to visit that young prince, who gave him a courteous reception.\nAfter several compliments had passed on both sides, Boubekir said to the\nprince, Sir, do you design to stay long at Bagdad? I shall stay, answered\nZeyn, till I can find a maid fifteen years of age, perfectly beautiful,\nand so chaste, that she has not only never known a man, but even never\ndesired to know one. You seek after a rarity, replied the iman; and I\nshould be apt to fear your search would prove unsuccessful, did I not\nknow where there is a maid of that character. Her father was formerly\nvizier; but he has left the court, and lived a long time in a house out\nof the way, where he applies himself only to the education of his\ndaughter. If you please, I will go ask her of him for you: I do not\nquestion but he will be overjoyed to have a son-in-law of your quality.\nNot so fast, said the prince; I shall not marry that maid before I know\nwhether I like her. As for her beauty, I can depend on you: but what\nassurance can you give me in relation to her virtue? What assurance do\nyou require? said Boubekir. I must see her face, answered Zeyn; that is\nenough for me to come to a resolution. You are skilful, then, in\nphysiognomy? replied the iman, smiling. Well, come along with me to her\nfather\u2019s: I will desire him to let you see her one moment in his\npresence.\n\nMouesm conducted the prince to the vizier\u2019s, who, as soon as he was\nacquainted with the prince\u2019s birth and design, called his daughter, and\nmade her take off her veil. Never had the young king of Balsora beheld\nsuch a perfect and powerful beauty. He stood amazed; and, since he could\nthen try whether the maid was as chaste as fair, he pulled out his glass,\nwhich remained bright and unsullied.\n\nWhen he perceived he had at length found such a person as he desired, he\nentreated the vizier to grant her to him. Immediately the lady was sent\nfor, and came; the contract was signed, and the marriage-prayer said.\nAfter which ceremony, Zeyn carried the vizier to his house, where he\ntreated him magnificently, and gave him considerable presents. Next, he\nsent a prodigious quantity of jewels to the bride by Morabec, who brought\nher to his house, where the wedding was kept with all the pomp that\nbecame Zeyn\u2019s quality. When all the company was dismissed, Morabec said\nto his master, Let us be gone, sir; let us not stay any longer at Bagdad,\nbut return to Cairo: remember the promise you made the king of the genii.\nLet us go, answered the prince; I must take care to perform it exactly:\nyet I must confess, my dear Morabec, that, if I obey the king of the\ngenii, it is not without reluctancy. The person I have married is\ncharming, and I am tempted to carry her to Balsora, and place her on the\nthrone. Alas! sir, answered Morabec, take heed how you give way to your\ninclination. Make yourself master of your passions; and, whatsoever it\ncosts you, be as good as your word to the king of the genii. Well then,\nMorabec, said the prince, do you take care to conceal that lovely maid\nfrom me: let her never appear in my sight. Perhaps I have already seen\ntoo much of her.\n\nMorabec having made all ready for their departure, they returned to\nCairo, and thence set out for the island of the king of the genii. When\nthey were there, the maid, who had performed the journey in a\nhorse-litter, and whom the prince had never seen since his wedding-day,\nsaid to Morabec, Where are we? shall we be soon in the dominions of the\nprince my husband? Madam, answered Morabec, it is time to undeceive you.\nPrince Zeyn married you, only in order to get you from your father; he\ndid not engage his faith to you to make you sovereign of Balsora, but to\ndeliver you to the king of the genii, who has asked of him a virgin of\nyour character. Hearing these words, she wept bitterly, which moved the\nprince and Morabec. Take pity on me, said she; I am a stranger: you will\nbe accountable to God for your treachery towards me.\n\nHer tears and complaints were of no effect, for she was presented to the\nking of the genii, who, having gazed on her very earnestly, said to Zeyn,\nPrince, I am satisfied with your behaviour; the virgin you have brought\nme is beautiful and chaste, and I am pleased with the force you have put\nupon yourself to be as good as your word to me. Return to your dominions,\nand when you shall enter the subterraneous room where the eight statues\nare, you shall find the ninth which I promised you. I will go and make my\ngenii carry it thither. Zeyn thanked the king, and returned to Cairo with\nMorabec, but did not stay long there; his impatience to see the ninth\nstatue made him hasten his journey. However, he could not but often think\nof the young virgin he married; and, blaming himself for having deceived\nher, he looked upon himself as the cause and instrument of her\nmisfortune. Alas! said he to himself, I have taken her from a tender\nfather to sacrifice her to a genie. O incomparable beauty! you deserve a\nbetter fate.\n\nPrince Zeyn, disturbed with these thoughts, at length reached Balsora,\nwhere his subjects made extraordinary rejoicings for his return. He went\ndirectly to give his mother an account of his journey, who was in a\nrapture to hear he had obtained the ninth statue. Let us go, my son, said\nshe, let us go and see it; for it is certainly in the chamber under\nground, since the king of the genii told you you should find it there.\nThe young king and his mother, being both impatient to see that wonderful\nstatue, went down into the subterraneous place, and into the room of the\nstatues: but how great was their surprise, when, instead of a statue of\ndiamonds, they spied on the ninth pedestal a most beautiful virgin, whom\nthe prince knew to be the same he had conducted into the island of the\ngenii! Prince, said the young maid, you are amazed to see me here: you\nexpected to have found something more precious than I; and I question not\nbut that you now repent having taken so much trouble: you expected a\nbetter reward. Madam, answered Zeyn, Heaven is my witness, that I more\nthan once thought to have broke my word with the king of the genii, to\nkeep you to myself. Whatsoever the value of a diamond statue may be, is\nit worth the satisfaction of enjoying you? I love you above all the\ndiamonds and wealth in the world.\n\nJust as he had done speaking these words, a clap of thunder was heard,\nwhich made that subterraneous place shake. Zeyn\u2019s mother was frightened;\nbut the king of the genii, immediately appearing, dispelled her dread.\nMadam, said he to her, I protect and love your son: I had a mind to try\nwhether, at his age, he could subdue his passions. I know the charms of\nthis young lady have wrought on him, and that he did not punctually keep\nthe promise he had made me, not to desire to enjoy her; but I am too well\nacquainted with the frailty of the human race. This is the ninth statue I\ndesigned for him; it is more rare and precious than the others. Live,\nsaid he, (directing his discourse to the young prince,) live happy, Zeyn,\nwith this young lady, who is your wife; and, if you would have her true\nand constant to you, love her always, and love her alone. Give her no\nrival, and I will answer for her fidelity. Having spoken these words, the\nking of the genii vanished; and Zeyn, ravished with that young lady,\nconsummated the marriage the same day, and caused her to be proclaimed\nqueen of Balsora. Those two ever faithful and loving consorts lived\ntogether many years.\n\n\n\n\n THE STORY OF\n CODADAD AND HIS BROTHERS.\n\n\nThose who have written the history of the kingdom of Diarbekir inform us,\nthat there formerly reigned a most magnificent king in the city of\nHarran, who loved his subjects, and was equally beloved by them. He was\nendued with all virtues, and wanted nothing to complete his happiness but\nan heir. Though he had the finest women in the world in his seraglio, yet\nhe was destitute of children. He continually prayed to Heaven for them;\nand one night, in his sleep, a comely person, or rather a prophet,\nappeared to him, and said, Your prayers are heard; you have obtained what\nyou desired: rise as soon as you awake, go to your prayers, and make two\ngenuflections: then walk into the garden of your palace, call your\ngardener, and bid him bring you a pomegranate; eat as many of the seeds\nas you think fit, and your wishes shall be accomplished.\n\nThe king, calling to mind his dream when he awaked, returned thanks to\nHeaven, got up, and fell to his prayers, made two genuflections, and then\nwent down into his garden, where he took fifty pomegranate-seeds, which\nhe counted, and ate them. He had fifty wives who shared in his bed; they\nall proved with child; but there was one called Pirouze, who did not\nappear to be big-bellied. He took an aversion to that lady, and would\nhave her put to death. Her barrenness, said he, is a certain token that\nHeaven does not judge Pirouze worthy to bear a prince; it is my duty to\ndeliver the world from an object that is odious to the Lord. He had taken\nthis cruel resolution, but his vizier diverted him from putting it in\nexecution; representing to him, that all women were not of the same\nconstitution, and that it was not impossible but that Pirouze might be\nwith child, though it did not appear. Well, answered the king, let her\nlive; but let her depart my court, for I cannot endure her. Your majesty,\nreplied the vizier, may send her to prince Samer, your cousin. The king\napproved of his advice: he sent Pirouze to Samaria with a letter, in\nwhich he ordered his cousin to treat her well; and, in case she proved\nwith child, to give him notice of her being brought to bed.\n\nNo sooner was Pirouze arrived in that country, than it appeared that she\nwas with child; and at length she was delivered of a most beautiful\nprince. The prince of Samaria wrote immediately to the king of Harran, to\nacquaint him with the birth of that son, and to congratulate him on that\noccasion. The king was much rejoiced at it, and answered prince Samer as\nfollows: \u2018Cousin, all my other wives have also been delivered of each a\nprince; so that we have a great number of children here. I desire you to\nbreed up that of Pirouze, to give him the name of Codadad, and to send\nhim to me when I shall give you notice.\u2019\n\nThe prince of Samaria spared nothing that might improve the education of\nhis nephew. He taught him to ride, shoot with a bow, and all the other\nthings becoming the son of a king; so that Codadad, at eighteen years of\nage, was looked upon as a prodigy. This young prince, being inspired with\na courage worthy his birth, said one day to his mother, Madam, I begin to\ngrow weary of Samaria: I find myself inclined to gain renown; give me\nleave to go seek it amidst the perils of war. My father, the king of\nHarran, has many enemies. Some neighbouring princes make it their\nbusiness to disturb him. Why does he not call me to his assistance? Why\ndoes he leave me here so long, like an infant? Must I spend my life here\nin sloth, when all my brothers have the good fortune to be fighting by\nhis side? My son, answered Pirouze, I am no less impatient to have your\nname become famous; I could wish you had already signalized yourself\nagainst your father\u2019s enemies; but we must wait till he requires it. No,\nmadam, replied Codadad, I have already waited but too long. I long to see\nthe king, and am tempted to go to offer him my service as a young\ngentleman unknown. No doubt but he will accept of it, and I will not\ndiscover myself till I have performed a thousand glorious actions: I\ndesign to merit his esteem before he knows who I am. Pirouze approved of\nhis generous resolution; and Codadad one day departed from Samaria, as if\nhe had been going a-hunting, without acquainting prince Samer, for fear\nhe should thwart his design.\n\nHe was mounted on a white horse, who had a gold bit and shoes; his\nhousing was of blue satin, embroidered with pearls; the hilt of his\nscimitar was of one entire diamond; and the scabbard of sandal-wood, all\nadorned with emeralds and rubies; and on his shoulder hung his bow and\nquiver. In this equipage, which added much to his good mien, he arrived\nat the city of Harran, and soon found means to offer his service to the\nking; who, being charmed with his beauty and lovely presence, and perhaps\ninspired by natural sympathy, gave him a favourable reception, and asked\nhis name and quality. Sir, answered Codadad, I am son to an emir of Grand\nCairo: an inclination to travel has made me quit my country; and,\nunderstanding, in my passage through your dominions, that you were\nengaged in war with some of your neighbours, I am come to your court to\noffer your majesty my service. The king showed him extraordinary\nkindness, and employed him in his troops.\n\nThat young prince soon signalized his bravery. He gained the esteem of\nthe officers, and was admired by the soldiers; and, having no less wit\nthan courage, he so far advanced himself in the king\u2019s affection as to\nbecome his favourite. All the ministers and other courtiers daily\nresorted to Codadad, and were so eager to purchase his friendship that\nthey neglected the king\u2019s other sons. Those princes could not but resent\nit; and, imputing it to the stranger, they all conceived an implacable\nhatred against him; but the king\u2019s affection daily increasing, he was\nnever weary of giving him fresh testimonies of it. He always desired he\nshould be near him: he admired his discourse, ever full of wit and\ndiscretion; and, to show how much he was satisfied with his wisdom, he\ngave him the tuition of the other princes, though he was of the same age\nas they. Thus Codadad was made governor of his brothers; which only\nserved to heighten their hatred. Is it come to this, said they, that the\nking, not satisfied with loving a stranger more than us, will have him to\nbe our tutor, and not allow us to do any thing without his leave? This is\nnot to be endured: we must rid ourselves of this stranger. Let us go\ntogether, said one of them, and dispatch him. No, no, answered another;\nwe had better be cautious how we sacrifice ourselves: his death would\nrender us odious to the king, who, in return would declare us all unfit\nto reign. Let us destroy the stranger artfully. We will ask leave to go\na-hunting; and, when far from the palace, we will proceed to some other\ncity, and stay there some time. The king will wonder at our absence; and,\nperceiving we do not return, he may perhaps put the stranger to death, or\nat least will turn him out of the court, for suffering us to leave the\npalace.\n\nAll the princes applauded this artifice, went together to Codadad, and\ndesired him to give them leave to go and take the diversion of hunting,\npromising to return the same day. Pirouze\u2019s son was taken in the snare,\nand granted the leave his brothers desired. They went, but returned not.\nThey had been three days absent, when the king asked Codadad where the\nprinces were, for it was long since he had seen them. Sir, answered\nCodadad, they have been gone a-hunting these three days; but they\npromised me they would return sooner. The king grew uneasy, and much more\nwhen he perceived the princes did not return the next day. This provoked\nhis passion: Indiscreet stranger, said he to Codadad, why did you let my\nsons go without bearing them company? Is it thus you discharge the trust\nI have reposed in you? Go seek them immediately, or you are a dead man.\n\nThese words pierced Pirouze\u2019s unfortunate son to the heart. He armed\nhimself, went out of the city, and, like a shepherd who had lost his\nflock, searched all the country for his brothers, inquiring at every\nvillage whether they had been seen; and, hearing no news of them, was\ngrieved to the heart. Alas! my brothers, said he, what is become of you?\nAre you perhaps fallen into the hands of our enemies? Am I come to the\ncourt of Harran to be the occasion of giving the king so much trouble? He\nwas altogether comfortless for having given the princes leave to go\na-hunting, or for not having borne them company.\n\nAfter some days spent in a fruitless search, he arrived in a plain of\nprodigious extent, in the midst whereof was a palace all of black marble.\nHe drew near, and at one of the windows spied a most beautiful lady, but\nset off with no other ornament than her own beauty; for her hair was\ndishevelled, her garments ragged, and on her countenance appeared all the\ntokens of the greatest affliction. As soon as she saw Codadad, and judged\nhe might hear her, she directed her discourse to him, saying, Alas! young\nman, get away from this fatal place, or else you will soon fall into the\nhands of the monster that inhabits it. A black who feeds only on human\nblood, resides in this palace. He seizes all persons whom their ill fate\nconducts to this plain, and shuts them up in his dark dungeons, whence\nthey are never released but to be devoured by him.\n\nMadam, answered Codadad, tell me who you are, and be not concerned for\nany more. I am a maid of quality, of Grand Cairo, replied the lady: I was\npassing by this castle yesterday, in my way to Bagdad, and met with the\nblack, who killed all my servants, and brought me hither. I wish I had\nnothing but death to fear; but, to add to my calamity, this monster would\npersuade me to love him; and, in case I do not yield to-morrow to his\nbrutality, I must expect the utmost violence. I tell you once more, added\nshe, make your escape: the black will soon return: he is gone out to\npursue some travellers he spied at a distance on the plain. Lose no time;\nnay, I know not whether a speedy flight will deliver you from him.\n\nShe had scarce done speaking these words before the black appeared. He\nwas a man of a monstrous bulk, and of a dreadful aspect, mounted on a\nmighty Tartar horse, and wore such a large and heavy scimitar, that none\nbut he could make use of it. The prince, seeing him, was amazed at his\nmonstrous mien, directed his prayers to Heaven to assist him, then drew\nhis scimitar, and stood still to expect the black; who, despising so\ninconsiderable an enemy, called to him to yield himself with engaging\nwords; but Codadad, by his behaviour, gave him to understand that he was\nresolved to defend his life; for he drew near, and gave him a great cut\non the knee. The black, feeling himself wounded, gave such a dreadful\nshriek as made all the plain resound. He grew enraged, foamed at the\nmouth, and raising himself on his stirrups, made at Codadad with his\ndreadful scimitar. The stroke was so violent, that no more would have\nbeen required to put an end to the prince, had not he, by a sudden spring\nhe made his horse take, avoided it. The scimitar made a mighty hissing in\nthe air; but, before the black could have leisure to second the blow,\nCodadad let fall one on his right arm with such fury, that he cut it off.\nThe dreadful scimitar fell, with the hand that held it; and the black,\nyielding under the violence of the stroke, lost his stirrups, and made\nthe earth quake with his mighty fall. The prince alighted at the same\ntime, and chopped off his enemy\u2019s head. Just then the lady, who had been\na spectator of the combat, and was still offering up her vows to Heaven\nfor that young hero whom she admired, gave a shriek for joy, and said to\nCodadad, Prince, (for the mighty victory you have obtained convinces me\nthat you are of no ordinary extraction,) finish the work you have begun:\nthe black has the keys of this castle: take them, and deliver me out of\nprison. The prince searched the wretch\u2019s pockets, as he lay stretched out\non the ground, and found several keys.\n\nHe opened the first door, and went into a court, where he met the lady\ncoming to meet him. She would have cast herself at his feet, in token of\nher gratitude; but he would not permit her. She commended his valour, and\nextolled him above all the heroes in the world. He returned her\ncompliments; and she appearing still more lovely to him near at hand than\nat a distance, I know not whether she was more joyful to be delivered\nfrom the desperate danger she had been in, than he for having done so\nconsiderable a service to so beautiful a person.\n\nTheir discourse was interrupted by dismal cries and groans. What is this\nI hear? said Codadad: whence come those miserable cries which pierce our\nears? Sir, said the lady to him, pointing to a little door there was in\nthe court, they come from thence. There are I know not how many wretched\npersons, whom fate has made to fall into the hands of the black. They are\nall chained; and that monster drew out one every day to be devoured.\n\nIt is an addition to my joy, answered the young prince, to understand\nthat my victory will save the lives of those unfortunate persons. Come\nalong with me, madam, to partake in the satisfaction of giving them their\nliberty. You may guess by yourself how welcome we shall be to them.\nHaving so said, they advanced towards the door of the dungeon; and the\nnearer they drew, the more distinctly they heard the complaints of the\nprisoners. Codadad pitying them, and impatient to put an end to their\nsufferings, put one of the keys into the key-hole, which proved not to be\nthe right one at first, and therefore he took another; at which noise all\nthose unfortunate creatures, concluding it was the black, who came,\naccording to custom, to bring them some meat, and at the same time to\nseize one of them to eat himself, redoubled their cries and groans.\nLamentable voices were heard, which sounded as if they had come from the\ncentre of the earth.\n\nIn the mean time, the prince had opened the door, and went down a very\nsteep stair-case into a large and deep vault, which received some small\nlight from a little window, and in which there were above a hundred\npersons bound to stakes, and their hands tied. Unfortunate travellers,\nsaid he to them, wretched victims, who only expected the moment of an\napproaching cruel death, give thanks to Heaven, which has this day\ndelivered you by my means. I have slain the black by whom you were to be\ndevoured, and am come to knock off your irons. The prisoners hearing\nthese words, all together gave a shout, occasioned by joy and surprise.\nCodadad and the lady began to unbind them; and, as soon as any of them\nwere loose, they helped to take off the fetters from the rest; so that in\na short time they were all at liberty.\n\nThey then kneeled down, and, having returned thanks to Codadad for what\nhe had done for them, went out of the dungeon; and when they were come\ninto the court, how surprising it was for the prince to see among the\nprisoners those he was in search of, and almost out of hopes to find!\nPrinces, cried he, am I not deceived? is it not you I behold? May I\nflatter myself that it will be in my power to restore you to the king\nyour father, who is inconsolable for the loss of you? But will he not\nhave some one to lament? Are you all here alive? Alas! the death of one\nof you will suffice to damp all the joy I conceive for having delivered\nyou.\n\nThe forty-nine princes all made themselves known to Codadad, who embraced\nthem one after another, and told them how uneasy their father was on\naccount of their absence. They gave their deliverer all the commendations\nhe deserved, as did the other prisoners, who could not find words\nexpressive enough to declare the gratitude they were sensible of. Next,\nCodadad, with them, took a view of the whole castle, where there was\nimmense wealth; curious silks, gold brocades, Persian carpets, China\nsatins, and an infinite quantity of other goods, which the black had\ntaken from the caravans he had plundered, a considerable part whereof\nbelonged to the prisoners Codadad had then set free. Every man knew and\nreclaimed what belonged to him. The prince restored them their own, and\ndivided the rest of the merchandise among them. Then he said to them, How\nwill you do to carry away your goods? we are here in a desert place, and\nthere is no likelihood of getting your horses. Sir, answered one of the\nprisoners, the black robbed us of our camels as well as our goods, and\nperhaps they may be in the stables of this castle. That is not unlikely,\nreplied Codadad; let us see after it. Accordingly they went to the\nstables, where they not only found the camels, but also the horses\nbelonging to the king of Harran\u2019s sons. There were some black slaves in\nthe stables; who, seeing all the prisoners released, and guessing thereby\nthat their master had been killed, fled through by-ways well known to\nthem. Nobody minded to pursue them. All the merchants, overjoyed that\nthey had recovered their goods and camels, together with their liberty,\nthought of nothing but prosecuting their journey; but first repeated\ntheir thanks to their deliverer.\n\nWhen they were gone, Codadad, directing his discourse to the lady, said,\nTo what place, madam, do you desire to go? whither did you design when\nyou were seized by the black? I intend to bear you company to the place\nyou shall appoint, and I do not question but that all these princes will\ndo the same. The king of Harran\u2019s sons protested to the lady they would\nnot leave her till she was restored to her friends.\n\nPrinces, said she, I am of a country too remote from hence: and, besides\nthat it would be an imposition on your generosity to oblige you to travel\nso far, I must own to you that I am come from my native country for ever.\nI told you a while ago that I was a lady of Grand Cairo; but since you\nhave shown me so much favour, and I am so highly obliged to you, added\nshe, looking upon Codadad, I should be much in the wrong in concealing\nthe truth from you. I am a king\u2019s daughter; an usurper has possessed\nhimself of my father\u2019s throne after having murdered him, and I have been\nforced to fly to save my life.\n\nThen Codadad and his brothers desired the princess to tell them her\nstory, assuring her they were highly concerned at her misfortunes, and\nfully disposed to spare for nothing that might contribute towards\nrendering her more happy. After thanks returned for their fresh\nprotestations of readiness to serve her, she could not refuse satisfying\ntheir curiosity, and began the recital of her adventures in the following\nmanner.\n\n\n\n\n STORY OF THE PRINCESS OF DERYABAR.\n\n\nThere is, in a certain island, a great city called Deryabar. It has been\nlong governed by a potent, magnificent, and virtuous king. That prince\nhad no children, which was the only thing wanting to make him happy. He\ncontinually addressed his prayers to Heaven; but Heaven granted his\nrequests by halves; for the queen his wife, after a long expectation,\nbrought forth a daughter.\n\nI am the unfortunate princess. My father was rather troubled than pleased\nat my birth; but he submitted to the will of God, and caused me to be\neducated with all possible care, being resolved, since he had no son, to\nteach me the art of ruling, that I might supply his place after his\ndeath.\n\nOne day, when he was taking the diversion of hunting, he spied a wild\nass, which he chased, lost his company, and was carried away so far in\nthat heat, as to ride on till night, without reflecting that he was quite\nout of the way. He then alighted, and sat down at the edge of a wood,\ninto which he had observed the ass had taken. No sooner was the day shut\nin, than he discovered a light among the trees, which made him conclude\nthat he was not far from some village: he rejoiced at it, hoping that he\nmight pass the night there, and find some person to send to his followers\nto acquaint them where he was; and accordingly he got up and walked\ntowards the light, which served to guide him.\n\nHe soon found he had been deceived, that light being no other than a fire\nlighted in a hut: however, he drew near, and with amazement beheld a\ngreat black, or rather a dreadful giant, sitting on a sofa. Before the\nmonster was a great pitcher of wine, and he was roasting a bullock he had\nnewly killed. Sometimes he drank out of the pitcher, and then cut slices\noff the bullock and ate them. But that which most drew the king my\nfather\u2019s attention was a beautiful woman he saw in the hut. She seemed to\nbe overwhelmed with grief; her hands were bound, and at her feet was a\nsmall child, about two or three years old, who, as if he was sensible of\nhis mother\u2019s misfortunes, continually wept, and rent the air with cries.\n\nMy father being moved with that object of pity, thought at first to have\ngone into the hut and attack the giant; but considering it would be an\nunequal combat, he stopped, and resolved, since he had not strength\nenough to prevail by open force, to use art.\n\nIn the mean time the giant, having emptied the pitcher and devoured above\nhalf the bullock, turned to the woman, and said, Beautiful princess, why\ndo you oblige me by your obstinacy to treat you with severity? It is in\nyour own power to be happy. You need only to resolve to love and be true\nto me, and I shall express my affection to you. Thou hideous satyr,\nanswered the lady, never expect that time should wear away the aversion I\nhave for you. Thou wilt ever be a monster in my eyes. To these words she\nadded so many reproaches, that the giant grew enraged. This is too much,\ncried he, in a furious tone; my love undervalued is turned into rage.\nYour hatred has at last caused mine; I find it prevails above my desires,\nand that I now wish your death rather than enjoyment. Having spoken these\nwords, he took that wretched lady by the hair, held her up with one hand\nin the air, and drawing his scimitar with the other, was just going to\nstrike off her head, when the king my father let fly an arrow, which\npierced the giant\u2019s breast, so that he staggered and dropped down dead.\n\nMy father entered the hut, unbound the lady\u2019s hands, asked her who she\nwas, and how she came thither. Sir, said she, there are some families of\nSaracens along the sea-coast, who live under a prince who is my husband;\nthis giant you have killed was one of his principal officers. The wretch\nfell desperately in love with me, but took special care to conceal it,\ntill he could put in execution the designs he had laid of stealing me\naway. Fortune oftener favours wicked designs than the virtuous. The giant\none day surprised me and my child in a by-place. He seized us both; and,\nto disappoint the search he well knew my husband would cause to be made\non account of this rape, he removed far from the country inhabited by\nthose Saracens, and brought us into this wood, where he has kept me some\ndays. As deplorable as my condition is, it is still a great satisfaction\nto me to think that the giant, though so brutal and amorous, never used\nforce to obtain that which I always refused to his entreaties: not but\nthat he has threatened me a hundred times that he would have recourse to\nthe worst of extremities, in case he could not otherwise prevail upon me;\nand, I must confess to you, that a while ago, when I provoked his anger\nby my words, I was less concerned for my life than for my honour.\n\nThis, sir, said the prince of the Saracens\u2019 wife, is the faithful account\nof my misfortunes, and I do not question but that you will think me\nworthy enough of your compassion, not to repent your having so generously\nrelieved me. Madam, answered my father, be assured your troubles have\nmoved me, and I will do all that shall be in my power to make you happy\nagain. To-morrow, as soon as the day appears, we will go out of this\nwood, and endeavour to fall into the road which leads to the great city\nof Deryabar, of which I am sovereign; and, if you think fit, you shall be\nentertained in my palace, till the prince your husband shall come to\nreclaim you.\n\nThe Saracen lady accepted the offer, and the next day followed the king\nmy father, who found all his retinue upon the skirts of the wood, they\nhaving spent the night in searching after, and being very uneasy for that\nthey could not find him. They were no less joyful to meet their king,\nthan amazed to see him with a lady whose beauty surprised them. He told\nthem how he had found her, and the danger he had run in drawing near to\nthe hut, where he must certainly have lost his life had the giant espied\nhim. One of his servants took up the lady behind him, and another carried\nthe child.\n\nThus they arrived at the king my father\u2019s palace, who assigned the\nbeautiful Saracen lady an apartment, and caused the child to be carefully\neducated. The lady was sensible of the king\u2019s goodness to her, and\nexpressed as much gratitude as he could desire. She had at first appeared\nvery uneasy and impatient, on account that her husband did not reclaim\nher; but by degrees she shook off that uneasiness: the respect my father\npaid her dispelled her impatience; and I am of opinion she would at last\nhave blamed fortune more for restoring her to her kindred than she did\nfor removing her from them.\n\nIn the mean time, the lady\u2019s son grew up; he was very handsome; and not\nwanting wit, found the way to please the king my father, who had a great\nkindness for him. All the courtiers perceived it, and guessed that young\nman might in the end be my husband. Upon this conceit, and looking on him\nalready as heir to the crown, they made their court to him, and every man\nendeavoured to gain his favour. He soon saw into their designs, grew\nconceited of himself, and, forgetting the distance there was between our\nconditions, flattered himself with the hopes that my father was fond\nenough of him to prefer him before all the princes in the world. Nay, he\nwent farther; for the king not answering his expectation, in offering me\nto him as soon as he could have wished, he had the boldness to ask me of\nhim. Whatsoever punishment his insolence deserved, my father was\nsatisfied with telling him that he had other thoughts in relation to me,\nand showed him no farther dislike. The youth was incensed at this\nrefusal; the vain fellow resented the contempt, as if he had asked some\nmaid of indifferent extraction, or as if his birth had been equal to\nmine. Nor was he so satisfied; but resolved to be revenged on the king;\nand, with unparalleled ingratitude, conspired against him. In short, he\nmurdered him, and caused himself to be proclaimed king of Deryabar, by a\ngreat number of malcontents whom he supported. The first thing he did,\nafter ridding himself of my father, was to come into my apartment with a\ngreat train of the conspirators. His design was, either to take my life\nor oblige me to marry him. While he was busy murdering my father, the\ngrand vizier, who had been always loyal to his master, came to carry me\naway from the palace, and secured me in a friend\u2019s house, till a vessel\nhe had provided was ready to sail. I then left the island, attended only\nby a governess and that generous minister, who chose rather to follow his\nmaster\u2019s daughter, and to partake of her misfortunes, than to submit to a\ntyrant.\n\nThe grand vizier designed to carry me to the courts of the neighbouring\nkings, to implore their assistance, and excite them to revenge my\nfather\u2019s death; but Heaven did not give me a blessing to that resolution\nwe thought so just. When we had been but a few days at sea, there arose\nsuch a furious storm, that, in spite of all the mariners\u2019 art, our\nvessel, carried away by the violence of the winds and waves, was dashed\nin pieces against a rock. I will not spend time in describing our\nshipwreck. I can but faintly represent to you how my governess, the grand\nvizier, and all that attended me, were swallowed up by the sea. The dread\nI was seized with did not permit me to observe the horror of our\ncondition. In fine, I lost my senses; and whether I was thrown upon the\ncoast upon any part of the wreck of our ship, or whether Heaven, which\nreserved me for other misfortunes, wrought a miracle in my deliverance, I\nfound myself on shore when my senses returned to me.\n\nMisfortunes very often make us forget our duty: instead of returning\nthanks to God for so singular a mercy shown me, I only lifted up my eyes\nto heaven, to complain because I had been saved. I was so far from\nbewailing the vizier and my governess, that I envied their fate; and, my\ndreadful imaginations by degrees prevailing above my reason, I resolved\nto cast myself into the sea. I was upon the point of doing so, when I\nheard behind me a great noise of men and horses. I looked about to see\nwhat it might be, and spied several armed horsemen, among whom was one\nmounted on an Arabian horse. He had on a garment embroidered with silver,\na girdle set with precious stones, and a crown of gold on his head.\nThough his habit had not convinced me that he was the chief of the\ncompany, I should have judged it by the air of grandeur which appeared in\nhis person. He was a young man extraordinarily finely shaped, and\nperfectly beautiful. Being surprised to see a young lady alone in that\nplace, he sent some of his officers to ask who I was. All my answer was\nweeping. The shore being covered with the wreck of our ship, they\nconcluded some vessel had been cast away there, and that I was certainly\nsome person that had saved my life. This conjecture, and my inconsolable\ncondition, excited the curiosity of those officers, who began to ask me a\nthousand questions, with assurances that their king was a generous\nprince, and that I should receive all comfort in his court.\n\nThe king, impatient to know who I was, grew weary of expecting the return\nof his officers, and drew near to me. He gazed on me very earnestly, and,\nobserving that I did not give over weeping and afflicting myself, without\nbeing able to return an answer to their questions, he forbade them\ntroubling me any more; and, directing his discourse to me, said, Madam, I\nconjure you to moderate your excessive affliction. Though Heaven in its\nwrath has laid this calamity upon you, yet it does not behove you to\ndespair. I beseech you, show more courage: fortune, which has hitherto\npersecuted you, is inconstant, and may soon change. I dare assure you,\nthat, if your misfortunes are capable of receiving any comfort, you shall\nfind it in my dominions. My palace is at your service: you shall live\nwith the queen my mother, who will endeavour by her kindness to ease your\naffliction. I know not as yet who you are; but I find I am already\nconcerned for you.\n\nI thanked the young king for his great goodness towards me, accepted of\nthe obliging offers he made me; and, to convince him that I was not\nunworthy of him, told him my condition. I described to him the insolence\nof the young Saracen, and found it needless to do any more than barely to\nrecount my misfortunes, to excite compassion in him, and all his officers\nwho heard me. When I had done speaking, the prince began again, assuring\nme that he was highly concerned at my misfortune. Then he conducted me to\nhis palace, and presented me to the queen his mother, to whom I was\nobliged again to repeat my misfortunes, and to renew my tears. The queen\nseemed very sensible of my troubles, and took an extraordinary liking to\nme. On the other hand the king her son fell desperately in love with me,\nand soon offered me his person and his crown. I was still so entirely\ntaken up with the thoughts of my calamities, that the prince, though so\nlovely a person, did not make so great an impression on me as he might\nhave done at another time. However, gratitude prevailing on me, I did not\nrefuse to make him happy; and our wedding was kept with all imaginable\ngrandeur.\n\nAt the time when all the people were taken up with the celebration of\ntheir sovereign\u2019s nuptials, a neighbouring prince, who was his enemy,\nmade a descent by night on the island with a great number of troops. That\nformidable enemy was the king Zanguebar: he surprised those people, and\ncut to pieces all the king my husband\u2019s subjects. We two escaped very\nnarrowly, for he had already entered the palace with some of his\nfollowers; but we found means to slip away, and got to the sea-coast,\nwhere we entered a fishing-boat we had the good fortune to meet with. Two\ndays we were driven about by the winds, without knowing what would become\nof us. The third day, we spied a vessel making towards us with all her\nsails aboard. We rejoiced at first, believing it had been a merchant-ship\nwhich might take us aboard; but were more astonished than I can express,\nwhen, as it drew near, we saw ten or twelve armed pirates appear on the\ndeck. Being come up to us, five or six of them leaped into our boat,\nseized us, bound the prince, and conveyed us into their ship, where they\nimmediately took off my veil. Instead of casting lots, every one of them\nclaimed the preference, and me as his right. The controversy grew hot,\nand they came to blows about me, and fought like so many madmen. The deck\nwas soon covered with dead bodies; and, in short, they were all killed\nbut one, who, being left sole possessor of me, said, You are mine; I will\ncarry you to Grand Cairo, to deliver you to a friend of mine, to whom I\nhave promised a beautiful slave. But who, added he, looking upon the king\nmy husband, is that man? What relation is he to you? Are you allied by\nblood or love? Sir, answered I, he is my husband. If so, replied the\npirate, in pity I must rid myself of him; it would be too great an\naffliction to him to see you in my friend\u2019s arms. Having spoken these\nwords, he took up the unhappy prince, who was bound, and threw him into\nthe sea, notwithstanding all my endeavours to hinder him.\n\nI shrieked in a dreadful manner at the sight of that cruel action, and\nhad certainly cast myself headlong into the sea, had not the pirate held\nme. He plainly saw that was my design, and therefore bound me fast to the\nmain-mast, and then hoisting sail, made towards the land, and there got\nashore. He unbound and led me to a little town, where he bought camels,\ntents, and slaves, and then set out for Grand Cairo; designing, as he\nstill said, to present me to his friend, according to his promise.\n\nWe had been several days upon the road, when, as we were crossing this\nplain yesterday, we spied the black who inhabited this castle. At a\ndistance, we took him for a tower; and, when near us, could scarce\nbelieve him to be a man. He drew his vast scimitar, and summoned the\npirate to yield himself up a prisoner, with all his slaves, and the lady\nhe was conducting. The pirate was daring; and, being seconded by all his\nslaves, who promised to stand by him, he attacked the black. The fight\nlasted a considerable time; but at length the pirate fell under the\nenemy\u2019s deadly blows, as did all his slaves, who chose rather to die than\nforsake him. The black then conducted me to the castle, whither he also\nbrought the pirate\u2019s body, which he did eat that night for his supper.\nAfter that inhuman meal, perceiving that I ceased not weeping, he said to\nme, Young lady, prepare to satisfy my desires, rather than continue thus\nto afflict yourself. Make a virtue of necessity, and comply: I give you\ntill to-morrow to consider. Let me then find you comforted for all your\nmisfortunes, and overjoyed for having been reserved for my bed. Having\nspoken these words, he conducted me to a chamber, and went to bed in his\nown, after locking up all the castle-doors. He opened them this morning,\nand presently locked them again, to pursue some travellers he perceived\nat a distance; but it is likely they made their escape, since he was\ncoming alone, and without any booty, when you attacked him.\n\nAs soon as the princess had put an end to the recital of her adventures,\nCodadad declared to her that he was highly concerned at her misfortunes.\nBut, madam, added he, it shall be your own fault if you do not live at\nease for the future: the king of Harran\u2019s sons offer you a safe retreat\nin the court of the king their father; be pleased to accept of it. You\nwill be there cherished by that prince, and respected by all other\npersons; and, if you do not disdain the person of your deliverer, permit\nme to make you a present of it, and to marry you before all these\nprinces: let them be witnesses to our contract. The princess consented to\nit, and the marriage was concluded that very day in the castle, where\nthey found all sorts of provisions. The kitchens were full of flesh and\nother eatables, which the black used to feed on when he was weary of\nfeeding on human bodies. There was also a variety of fruits, very\nexcellent in their kinds, and, to complete their satisfaction, abundance\nof delicious wine and other liquors.\n\nThey all sat down to table; and, after having eaten and drunk\nplentifully, they took along with them the rest of the provisions, and\nset out for the king of Harran\u2019s court. They travelled several days,\nencamping in the pleasantest places they could find; and they were within\none day\u2019s journey of Harran, when, having halted, and drunk all their\nwine, as being under no longer concern to make it hold out, Codadad\ndirected his discourse to all his company thus: Princes, I have too long\nconcealed from you who I am. Behold your brother Codadad! I have received\nmy being, as well as you, of the king of Harran. The prince of Samaria\nhas bred me, and the princess Pirouze is my mother. Madam, added he,\napplying himself to the princess of Deryabar, do you also forgive me, for\nhaving concealed my birth from you. Perhaps, by discovering it sooner, I\nmight have prevented some disagreeable reflections which may have been\noccasioned by a match you may have thought unequal. No, sir, answered the\nprincess; the opinion I at first conceived of you heightened every\nmoment, and you did not stand in need of the extraction you now discover,\nto make me happy.\n\nThe princes congratulated Codadad on his birth, and expressed much\nsatisfaction at the knowledge of it: but, in reality, instead of\nrejoicing, their hatred for so amiable a brother was redoubled. They met\ntogether at night in a by-place, whilst Codadad and the princess his wife\nlay fast asleep in their tent. Those ungrateful, envious brothers,\nforgetting that, had it not been for the brave son of Pirouze, they must\nhave been devoured by the black, agreed among themselves to murder him.\nWe have no other course to choose, said one of those wicked brethren; for\nthe moment our father shall come to understand that this stranger he is\nalready so fond of is our brother, and that he alone has been able to\ndestroy a giant whom we could not all of us together conquer, he will\nbestow all his favour and a thousand praises on him, and declare him his\nheir, in spite of all his brothers, who will be obliged to obey and fall\ndown before him. Besides these, he added many other words, which made\nsuch an impression on their jealous minds, that they immediately repaired\nto Codadad, then fast asleep, stabbed him in a thousand places, and\nleaving him for dead in the arms of the princess of Deryabar, proceeded\non their journey for the city of Harran, where they arrived the next day.\n\nThe king their father conceived the greater joy at their return, because\nhe had despaired of ever seeing them. He asked what had been the occasion\nof their stay; but they took care not to acquaint him with it, making no\nmention either of the black or of Codadad; and only said, that, being\ncurious to see the country, they had spent some time in the neighbouring\ncities.\n\nIn the mean time Codadad lay in his tent, drowned in his own blood, and\nlittle differing from a dead man, with the princess his wife, who seemed\nto be in no much better condition than he. She rent the air with her\ndismal shrieks, tore her hair, and, bathing her husband\u2019s body with her\ntears, Alas! Codadad, my dear Codadad, cried she, is it you whom I behold\njust departing this life? What cruel hands have put you into this\ncondition? May I believe these are your brothers who have treated you so\nunmercifully? No, they are rather devils, who have taken those shapes to\nmurder you. O barbarous wretches! whosoever you are, how could you make\nso ungrateful a return for the service he has done you? But why should I\ncomplain of your brothers, unfortunate Codadad! I alone am to blame for\nyour death. You would tack your fate upon mine; and all the ill fortune\nthat attends me since I left my father\u2019s palace has fallen upon you. O\nHeaven! which has condemned me to lead a wandering life and full of\ncalamities, if you will not permit me to have a consort, why do you\npermit me to find any? Behold, you have now robbed me of two, just as I\nbegan to be endeared to them.\n\nBy these, and other moving expressions, the unhappy princess of Deryabar\nvented her sorrow, fixing her eyes on the deplorable Codadad, who could\nnot hear her. But Codadad was not dead; and his consort, observing that\nhe still breathed, ran to a large open town she spied in the plain, to\ninquire for a surgeon. She was showed one, who went immediately with her:\nbut when they came to the tent, they could not find Codadad, which made\nthem conclude he had been dragged away by some wild beast to devour him.\nThe princess renewed her complaints and lamentations in a most dismal\nmanner. The surgeon took compassion; and, being unwilling to leave her in\nthat miserable condition, proposed to her to return to the town, offering\nher his house and service.\n\nShe suffered herself to be prevailed on. The surgeon conducted her to his\nhouse, and, without knowing as yet who she was, treated her with all\nimaginable courtesy and respect. He used all his rhetoric to comfort her;\nbut it was in vain to think of removing her sorrow, which was rather\nheightened than diminished. Madam, said he to her one day, be pleased to\nrecount to me your misfortunes; tell your country and your condition:\nperhaps I may give you some advice, when I am acquainted with all the\ncircumstances of your calamity. You do nothing but afflict yourself,\nwithout considering that remedies may be found for the most desperate\ndiseases.\n\nThe surgeon\u2019s words were so efficacious, that they wrought on the\nprincess, who recounted to him all her adventures; and when she had done,\nthe surgeon directed his discourse to her, saying, Madam, since this is\nthe posture of affairs, give me leave to tell you, that you ought not\nthus to give way to your sorrow; you ought rather to arm yourself with\nresolution, and to perform what the name and the duty of a wife require\nof you. You are obliged to revenge your husband: if you please I will\nwait on you as your squire: let us go to the king of Harran\u2019s court; he\nis a good and just prince: you need only represent to him, in a lively\nmanner, how prince Codadad has been treated by his brothers: I am fully\npersuaded he will do you justice. I submit to your reasons, answered the\nprincess: it is my duty to endeavour to revenge Codadad; and since you\nare so obliging and generous as to offer to bear me company, I am ready\nto set out. No sooner had she fixed this resolution, than the surgeon\nordered two camels to be made ready, on which the princess and he\nmounted, and repaired to Harran.\n\nThey alighted at the first caravansary they found; and inquiring of the\nhost what news at court, It is, said he, in very great confusion. The\nking had a son, who lived a long time with him as a stranger, and none\ncan tell what is become of that young prince. One of the king\u2019s wives,\ncalled Pirouze, is his mother; she has made all possible inquiry, but to\nno purpose. All men are concerned at the loss of that prince, because he\nwas very deserving. The king has forty-nine other sons, all of them born\nof several mothers; but not one of them has worth enough to comfort the\nking for the death of Codadad: I say his death, because it is impossible\nhe should be alive, since no news have been heard of him, notwithstanding\nso much search has been made after him.\n\nThe surgeon, having heard this account from the host, concluded that the\nbest course the princess of Deryabar could take, was to wait upon\nPirouze: but that method was not without some danger, and required much\nprecaution; for it was to be feared, that if the king of Harran\u2019s sons\nshould happen to hear of the arrival of their sister-in-law, and her\ndesign, they might cause her to be conveyed away before she could speak\nto Codadad\u2019s mother. The surgeon weighed all these particulars, and\nconsidered what risk he might run himself; and therefore, that he might\nmanage the affair with discretion, he desired the princess to stay in the\ncaravansary, whilst he went to the palace to observe which might be the\nsafest way to conduct her to Pirouze.\n\nHe went accordingly into the city, and was walking towards the palace,\nlike one led only by curiosity to see the court, when he spied a lady\nmounted on a mule richly accoutred. She was followed by several ladies\nmounted on mules, with a great number of guards and black slaves. All the\npeople made a lane to see her pass along, and saluted her, prostrating\nthemselves on the ground. The surgeon paid her the same respect, and then\nasked a calendar, who happened to stand by him, whether that lady was one\nof the king\u2019s wives. Yes, brother, answered the calendar, she is one of\nthe king\u2019s wives, and the most honoured and beloved by the people,\nbecause she is mother to prince Codadad, of whom I suppose you have\nheard.\n\nThe surgeon asked no more questions, but followed Pirouze to a mosque,\ninto which she went to distribute alms, and assist at the public prayers\nthe king had ordered to be made for the safe return of Codadad. The\npeople, who were highly concerned for that young prince, ran in crowds to\njoin their vows to the prayers of the priests, so that the mosque was\nquite full. The surgeon broke through the throng, and advanced as far as\nPirouze\u2019s guards. He staid out the prayers; and when that princess went\nout, he stepped up to one of her slaves, and whispered him in his ear,\nsaying, Brother, I have a secret of moment to impart to the princess\nPirouze; may not I, by your means, be brought into her apartment? If that\nsecret, answered the slave, be relating to prince Codadad, I dare promise\nyou shall have audience of her this very day; but if it concerns not him,\nit is needless for you to endeavour to be introduced to her; for her\nthoughts are all upon her son, and she will not hear talk of any other\nsubject. It is only about that dear son, replied the surgeon, that I\nwould discourse to her. If so, said the slave, you need only follow us to\nthe palace, and you shall soon speak to her.\n\nAccordingly, as soon as Pirouze was returned to her apartment, that slave\nacquainted her that a person unknown had some important affair to\ncommunicate to her, and that it related to prince Codadad. No sooner had\nhe uttered these words, than Pirouze expressed her impatience to see that\nstranger. The slave immediately conducted him into the princess\u2019s closet,\nwho ordered all her women to withdraw, except two, from whom she\nconcealed nothing. As soon as she saw the surgeon, she asked him abruptly\nwhat news he had to tell her of Codadad. Madam, answered the surgeon,\nafter having prostrated himself on the ground, I have a long account to\ngive you, and such as will be very surprising. Then he told her all the\nparticulars of what had passed between Codadad and his brothers, which\nshe listened to with an eager attention; but when he came to speak of the\nmurder, that tender mother swooned away on her sofa, as if she had been\nherself stabbed like her son. Her two women used proper means, and soon\nbrought her to herself. The surgeon continued his relation; and when he\nhad ended it, Pirouze said to him, Go back to the princess of Deryabar,\nand assure her from me that the king shall soon own her for his\ndaughter-in-law; and as for yourself, be assured that your service shall\nbe well rewarded.\n\nWhen the surgeon was gone, Pirouze remained on the sofa in such a state\nof affliction as is not easy to imagine; and, relenting at the thoughts\nof Codadad, O! my son, said she, I must never then expect to see you\nmore! Alas! when I gave you leave to depart from Samaria, and you took\nleave of me, I did not imagine that so unfortunate a death had awaited\nyou at such a distance from me. Unfortunate Codadad! why did you leave\nme? It is true, you would not have acquired so much renown; but you had\nbeen still alive, and had not cost your mother so many tears. Whilst she\nuttered these words, she wept bitterly, and her two confidants, moved by\nher sorrow, mixed their tears with hers.\n\nWhilst they were all three in that affliction, the king came into the\ncloset, and seeing them in that condition, asked Pirouze whether she had\nreceived any bad news concerning Codadad. Alas! sir, said she, all is\nover; my son has lost his life; and, to add to my sorrow, I cannot pay\nhim the funeral rites; for, in all appearance, the wild beasts have\ndevoured him. Then she told him all that she had heard from the surgeon,\nand did not fail to express herself fully at the inhuman manner in which\nCodadad had been murdered by his brothers.\n\nThe king did not give Pirouze time to finish her relation; but, being\ntransported with anger, and giving way to his passion, Madam, said he to\nthe princess, those perfidious wretches who cause you to shed these\ntears, and are the occasion of the mortal grief which oppresses their\nfather, shall soon feel the punishment due to their guilt. The king\nhaving spoken these words, with indignation appearing in his countenance,\nwent directly to the presence-chamber, where all his courtiers attended,\nand such of the people as had any petitions to present to him. They were\nall astonished to see him in that passion, and thought his anger had been\nkindled against his people.\n\nTheir hearts failed them for fear. He ascended the throne, and causing\nthe grand vizier to draw near, said, Hassan, I have some orders for you:\ngo immediately, take a thousand of my guards, and seize all the princes\nmy sons; shut them up in the tower appointed for a prison for murderers;\nand let this be done in a moment. All that were present quaked at the\nhearing of this surprising command; and the grand vizier, without\nanswering one word, laid his hand on his head, to express his obedience,\nand went out of the presence to execute his orders, which were very\nsurprising to him. In the mean time, the king dismissed those who\nattended to desire audience, and declared he would not despatch any\nbusiness for a month to come. He was still in the presence-chamber, when\nthe vizier returned. Are all my sons, said that prince, in the tower?\nThey are, sir, answered the vizier; I have obeyed your orders. This is\nnot all, replied the king, I have farther commands for you; and so\nsaying, he went out of the presence-chamber, and returned to Pirouze\u2019s\napartment, with the vizier following him. He asked that princess where\nCodadad\u2019s widow had taken up her lodging. Pirouze\u2019s women told him; for\nthe surgeon had not forgot that in his relation. Then the king, turning\nto his minister, Go, said he, to that caravansary, and bring a young\nprincess, who lodges there; but treat her with all the respect due to her\nquality.\n\nThe vizier was not backward in performing what he was ordered. He mounted\non horseback, with all the emirs and courtiers, and repaired to the\ncaravansary where the princess of Deryabar was, whom he acquainted with\nhis orders, and presented her, from the king, a fine white mule, whose\nsaddle and bridle were adorned with gold, rubies, and diamonds. She\nmounted it, and went to the palace, attended by all those great men. The\nsurgeon bore her company, mounted on a sprightly Tartar horse which the\nvizier had provided for him. All the people were at their windows, or in\nthe streets, to see that noble cavalcade; and it being given out that the\nprincess, whom they conducted in such state to court, was Codadad\u2019s wife,\nthe city resounded with acclamations, the air rang with shouts of joy,\nwhich would certainly have been turned into lamentations, had that\nprince\u2019s fatal adventure been known; so much was he beloved by all men.\n\nThe princess of Deryabar found the king at the palace gate, waiting to\nreceive her. He took her by the hand, and led her to Pirouze\u2019s apartment,\nwhere a very moving scene was acted among them. Codadad\u2019s wife found her\naffliction redouble upon her at the sight of her husband\u2019s father and\nmother; as, on the other side, those parents could not look on their\nson\u2019s wife without being much concerned. She cast herself at the king\u2019s\nfeet, and having bathed them with tears, was so overcome with grief, that\nshe was not able to speak one word. Pirouze was in no better condition;\nshe seemed to be stunned with her sorrows; and the king, moved by those\ndismal objects, gave way to his passion: those three persons, mixing\ntheir tears and sighs, for some time observed a silence, which appeared\nextraordinary moving and pitiful. At length the princess of Deryabar,\nbeing somewhat recovered, recounted the adventure of the castle and\nCodadad\u2019s disaster. Then she required justice for the treachery of the\nprinces. Yes, madam, said the king to her, those ungrateful wretches\nshall perish, but Codadad\u2019s death must first be made public, that the\npunishment of his brothers may not cause my subjects to rebel; and,\nthough we have not my son\u2019s body, we will not omit paying him the last\nduties. This said, he directed his discourse to the vizier, and ordered\nhim to build a dome of white marble in a delightful plain, in the midst\nof which the city of Harran stands; then he appointed the princess of\nDeryabar a fine apartment in his palace, acknowledging her for his\ndaughter-in-law.\n\nHassan caused the work to be carried on with such diligence, and employed\nso many workmen, that the dome was soon finished. Within it was erected a\nmonument, and on it was placed a figure representing Codadad. As soon as\nall was perfected, the king ordered prayers to be said, and appointed a\nday for the obsequies of his son.\n\nOn that day, all the inhabitants of the city went out upon the plain to\nsee that ceremony performed; which was after this manner. The king,\nattended by his vizier and the prime persons of the court, proceeded\ntowards the dome; and being come to it, went in, and sat down with them\non carpets laid on the ground, made of black satin, with gold flowers. A\ngreat body of horse guards, hanging their heads, and looking down, drew\nup close about the dome, and marched round it twice, observing a profound\nsilence; but at the third round, they halted before the door, and all of\nthem with a loud voice pronounced these words: \u2018O prince, son to the\nking, could we by dint of sword and human valour any way retrieve your\nmisfortune, we would bring you back to life; but the King of kings has\ncommanded, and the angel of death has obeyed.\u2019 Having uttered these\nwords, they drew off, to make way for a hundred old men, all of them\nmounted on black mules, and wearing long gray beards.\n\nThese were anchorites, who lived all their days concealed in caves. They\nnever appeared in the sight of the world, but when they were to assist at\nthe obsequies of the kings of Harran, and of the princes of their family.\nEach of these venerable persons carried a book on his head, which he held\nwith one hand. They took three turns round the dome without uttering one\nword; then stopping before the door, one of them said, \u2018O prince, what\ncan we do for you? If you could be restored to life by prayers or\nlearning, we would rub our gray beards at thy feet, and recite prayers;\nbut the King of the universe has taken you away for ever.\u2019\n\nThis said, the old men removed at a distance from the dome, and\nimmediately fifty young beautiful maids drew near to it: each of them was\nmounted on a little white horse: they wore no veils, and carried gold\nbaskets full of all sorts of precious stones. Thus they did also ride\nthrice round the dome; and, halting at the same place as the others had\ndone, the youngest of them spoke in the name of all as follows: \u2018O\nprince, once so beautiful, what relief can you expect from us? If we\ncould restore you to life by our charms, we would become your slaves. But\nyou are no longer sensible to beauty, and have no more occasion for us.\u2019\n\nWhen the young maids were withdrawn, the king and his courtiers arose,\nand, having walked thrice round the figure representing Codadad, the king\nspoke as follows: \u2018O my dear son, light of my eyes, I have then lost thee\nfor ever.\u2019 These words were attended with sighs, and he watered the tomb\nwith his tears, his courtiers weeping with him. Then the gate of the dome\nwas shut, and all the people returned to the city. The next day, there\nwere public prayers in all the mosques; and the same was continued for\neight days successively. On the ninth, the king resolved to cause the\nprinces his sons to be beheaded. All the people, being incensed at their\ncruelty towards Codadad, impatiently expected to see them executed. The\nscaffolds were erecting; but the execution was respited, on account that,\non a sudden, news was brought, that the neighbouring princes, who had\nbefore made war on the king of Harran, were advancing with more numerous\nforces than the first time, and were not then far from the city. It had\nbeen long known that they were preparing for war, but no great notice had\nbeen taken of it. This advice occasioned a general consternation, and\ngave new cause to lament the loss of Codadad, by reason that prince had\nsignalized himself in the former war against those enemies. Alas! said\nthey, were the brave Codadad alive, we should little value those princes\nwho are coming to surprise us. The king, nothing dismayed, raised men\nwith all possible speed, formed a considerable army, and, being too brave\nto expect the enemy to come and attack him within his walls, marched out\nto meet them. They, on their side, being informed by their advanced\nparties that the king of Harran was marching to engage them, halted in\nthe plain, and formed their army.\n\nAs soon as the king discovered them, he also drew up his forces, and\nranged them in order of battle. The signal was given, and he attacked\nthem with extraordinary vigour. Nor was the opposition inferior: much\nblood was shed on both sides, and the victory remained long dubious; but\nat length it seemed to incline to the king of Harran\u2019s enemies, who,\nbeing more numerous, were about hemming him in, when a good body of horse\nappeared on the plain, and drew near the two armies in good order. The\nsight of that fresh party daunted both sides, as not knowing what to\nthink of them. But their doubts were soon cleared; for those horsemen\nfell upon the flank of the king of Harran\u2019s enemies, giving such a\nfurious charge, that they soon broke and put them to the rout; and, not\nso satisfied, they pursued them, and cut most of them in pieces.\n\nThe king of Harran, who had nicely observed all the action, admired the\nbravery of those horsemen, whose unexpected arrival had given the victory\nto his side. But, above all, he was charmed with their chief, whom he had\nseen fighting with a more than ordinary valour. He longed to know the\nname of that generous hero. Being impatient to see and thank him, he\nadvanced towards him, but perceived he was coming to prevent him. The two\nprinces drew near, and the king of Harran finding Codadad in that brave\nwarrior who had just then succoured him, or rather defeated his enemies,\nbecame motionless with joy and surprise. Sir, said Codadad to him, you\nhave sufficient cause to be astonished, seeing a man appear on a sudden\nbefore your majesty whom perhaps you concluded to be dead. I should have\nbeen so, had not Heaven preserved me still against your enemies. O my\nson! cried the king, is it possible that you are restored to me? Alas! I\ndespaired of seeing you any more. Having so said, he stretched out his\narms to the young prince, who flew to his loving embraces.\n\nI know all, my son, said the king again, after having long held him in\nhis arms; I know what return my sons have made you for the service you\ndid in delivering them out of the hands of the black; but you shall be\nrevenged to-morrow. Let us now go to the palace; your mother, who has\nwept sufficiently for you, expects me, to rejoice with us for the defeat\nof our enemies. What a joy will it be to her to be informed that my\nvictory is your handy-work! Sir, said Codadad, give me leave to ask you,\nhow could you come to know the adventure of the castle? Has any of my\nbrothers, repenting, owned the thing to you? No, answered the king, the\nprincess of Deryabar has given us an account of all things; for she is in\nmy palace, and came thither to demand justice against your brothers.\nCodadad was in a transport of joy to understand that the princess his\nwife was at the court. Let us go, sir, cried he to his father in a\nrapture, let us go to see my mother, who waits for us. I have an ardent\ndesire to dry up her tears, as well as those of the princess of Deryabar.\n\nThe king immediately returned to the city, with his army, which he\ndismissed; entering his palace victorious, amidst the acclamations of his\npeople, who followed him in crowds, praying to Heaven to prolong his\nlife, and extolling Codadad to the skies. These two princes found Pirouze\nand her daughter-in-law waiting for the king to congratulate him; but\nthere is no expressing the transport of joy they felt when they saw the\nyoung prince come with him: they dissolved in embraces, mixed with tears,\nbut of a different sort from those they had before shed for him. When\nthese four persons had performed all that the ties of blood and love\ndemanded of them, the question was asked of Pirouze\u2019s son, by what\nmiracle he came to be still alive. He answered, that a peasant, mounted\non a mule, happening accidentally to come into the tent where he lay\nsenseless, and perceiving him alone, and stabbed in several places, had\nmade him fast on his mule, and carried him to his house, where he applied\nto his wounds certain herbs chewed, which had recovered him in a few\ndays. When I found myself well, added he, I returned thanks to the\npeasant, and gave him all the diamonds I had. Then I drew near the city\nof Harran; but being informed by the way that some neighbouring princes\nhad gathered forces, and were coming to fall upon the king\u2019s subjects, I\nmade myself known unto the villagers, and stirred up those people to\nstand upon their guard. I armed a good number of young men; and heading\nthem, happened to come in at that time when the two armies were engaged.\n\nWhen he had done speaking, the king said, Let us return thanks to God for\nhaving preserved Codadad; but it is requisite that the traitors, who\nwould have destroyed him, should perish this day. Sir, answered the\ngenerous son of Pirouze, though they are wicked and ungrateful, consider\nthey are your own flesh and blood: they are my brothers; I forgive them\nthe offence, and beg pardon of you for them. This generosity drew tears\nfrom the king, who caused the people to be assembled, and declared\nCodadad his heir. Then he ordered the princes, who were prisoners, to be\nbrought, loaded with irons. Pirouze\u2019s son knocked off their chains, and\nembraced them all successively, with as much sincerity as he had done in\nthe court of the black\u2019s castle. The people were charmed with Codadad\u2019s\ngood nature, and highly applauded him. Next he nobly rewarded the\nsurgeon, to requite the service he had done the princess of Deryabar.\n\nThe sultaness Scheherazade, having told the story of Ganem with so much\naddress, and in so agreeable a manner, that the sultan of the Indies\ncould not forbear showing the pleasure that relation gave him, said to\nthat monarch, I doubt not but your majesty is very well satisfied to find\nthe caliph Haroun Alraschid change his sentiments in favour of Ganem, his\nmother, and sister; and I believe you may be sensibly affected with their\nmisfortunes, and the ill treatment they received; but am persuaded, if\nyour majesty would hear the story of the Sleeper Awakened, it would,\ninstead of exciting all those emotions of indignation and compassion in\nyour breast, on the contrary, afford you all the mirth and diversion\nimaginable. The sultan, who promised himself some new adventures from the\ntitle of that story, would have heard it that morning; but perceiving day\napproached, deferred it till next, when Dinarzade called upon her sister,\nwho began her story as follows.\n\n\n\n\n THE STORY OF\n THE SLEEPER AWAKENED.\n\n\nIn the reign of caliph Haroun Alraschid, there lived at Bagdad a very\nrich merchant, who, having married a woman pretty well in years, had but\none son, whom he named Abon Hassan, and educated with great restraint.\nWhen this son was thirty years old, the merchant died, and left him his\nsole heir, and master of great riches, which his father had amassed\ntogether by his industry, frugality, and great application to business.\n\nAbon Hassan, whose views and inclinations were very much different from\nthose of his father, was resolved to make another use of his wealth; for,\nas his father had never allowed him any money but what was just necessary\nfor subsistence, and he had always envied those young persons of his age\nwho wanted none, and who debarred themselves from none of those pleasures\nto which youth are too much addicted, he resolved, in his turn, to\nsignalize himself by extravagances proportionable to his fortune. To this\nend, he divided his riches in two parts; with one half he bought houses\nin town and land in the country, with a promise to himself never to touch\nthe income of his estate, which was considerable enough to live upon very\nhandsomely, but lay it all by; with the other half, which he kept by him\nin ready money, he designed to make himself amends for the time he had\nlost in the severe restraint with which his father had always kept him.\n\nWith this intent, Abon Hassan associated himself in a few days with\npeople of his age and condition, and thought of nothing more than how to\nspend their time agreeably. Every day he gave them splendid\nentertainments, at which the most exquisite and delicate wines flowed in\nplenty, while concerts of the best vocal and instrumental music\nheightened their pleasures; and then this young band of debauchees, with\nglasses in their hands, sang and joined with the music; and these feasts\ngenerally ended with balls at night, to which the best dancers in Bagdad,\nof both sexes, were invited. These entertainments, renewed every day,\nwere so expensive to Abon Hassan, that he could not support the\nextravagance above one year; and, in short, the great sum which he had\nconsecrated to this prodigality and the year ended together. As soon as\nhe left off keeping this table, his friends forsook him: whenever they\nsaw him, they avoided him; and if by chance he met any of them, and would\nstop them, they always excused themselves on some pretence or other.\n\nAbon Hassan, touched more to the quick at this strange behaviour of his\nfriends, who had forsaken him so basely and ungratefully, after all the\nprotestations of friendship they had made him, and their inviolable\nattachment to his service, than all the money he had foolishly squandered\naway, went, melancholy and thoughtful, into his mother\u2019s apartment, and\nsat down on a sofa a good distance from her. What is the matter with you,\nson? said his mother, reading his grief in his countenance: why are you\nso altered, so dejected, and so much different from yourself? You could\nnot certainly be more concerned if you had lost all you had in the world.\nI know you have lived very profusely, and believe all your money is\nspent; yet you have a good estate; and the reason I did not so very much\noppose your irregular way of living, was, I knew the wise precaution you\nhad taken to preserve half your substance; therefore I do not see why you\nshould plunge yourself into this deep melancholy.\n\nAt these words, Abon Hassan melted into tears, and in the midst of his\nsighs cried out, Ah! mother, I see at last, by sad experience, how\ninsupportable poverty is: I am sensible that it deprives us of joy, as\nmuch as the setting sun does of light. In poverty, we have no\ncommendations and fine things said unto us: we endeavour to conceal all\nour actions, and spend our nights in tears and sorrow. In short, a poor\nman is looked upon, both by friends and relations, as a stranger. You\nknow, mother, how I have used my friends for this year past: I have\nentertained them with all imaginable generosity, till I have spent all my\nmoney; and now they have left me, when I can treat them no longer. For my\nestate, I thank Heaven for having given me the grace to keep the oath I\nhave made not to enter upon that; and now I shall know how to make a good\nuse of it. But first, I will try the gratitude of friends, who deserve\nnot that I should call them so: I will go to them one after another, and\nwhen I have represented to them what I have done for their sakes, I will\nask them to make me up a sum of money among them, to relieve me out of\nthe miserable condition I am reduced to: these are the steps I intend to\ntake to try their gratitude.\n\nI do not pretend, son, said Abon Hassan\u2019s mother, to dissuade you from\nexecuting your design; but I can tell you before-hand, that you have no\nground for any hope: believe me, you will find no relief, but from the\nestate you have reserved. I see you do not, but will soon know those\npeople, whom we generally call friends; and I wish to Heaven you may, in\nthe manner I desire; that is to say, for your own good. Mother, replied\nAbon Hassan, I am persuaded of the truth of what you say; but shall be\ncertain of a fact which concerns me so nearly, when I shall inform myself\nbetter of their baseness. Upon this, Abon Hassan went immediately to his\nfriends, whom he found at home, represented to them the great need he was\nin, and begged of them to loose their purse-strings to assist him. He\npromised to give every one bonds to pay them the money they lent him, as\nsoon as his affairs were made up; giving them to understand, at the same\ntime, that it was, in a great measure, upon their accounts that he was\nundone; and forgetting not to allure them with the hopes of being once\nagain entertained in the same manner as before.\n\nNot one of his bottle companions was affected with the arguments which\nthe afflicted Abon Hassan made use of to persuade them; and he had the\nmortification to find, that many of them told him plainly they scarce\nknew him.\n\nHe returned home again full of grief and rage; and, going into his\nmother\u2019s apartment, said, Ah! madam, you was in the right of it; instead\nof friends, I have found none but ungrateful, perfidious wretches, who\ndeserve not my friendship; whom I renounce, and promise never to see them\nmore. He resolved to be as good as his word; and, to that end, took all\npossible precautions to avoid falling into the same inconvenience, taking\nan oath never to give an inhabitant of Bagdad any entertainment again.\nAfterwards he opened a strong chest, in which he had put the rents he had\nreceived from his estate, and resolved to take every day a sum that was\nsufficient to defray the expense of a single person to sup with him; who,\naccording to the oath he had taken, must be a stranger that came into\nBagdad the same day, and must take his leave of him the next morning.\n\nAccording to this project, Abon Hassan took care every morning to provide\nwhatever he designed for night, and towards the close of the evening went\nand sat on Bagdad bridge; and, as soon as ever he saw a stranger, of\nwhatever condition he was, he accosted him civilly, and invited him to\nsup and lodge with him that night; and, after having informed him of the\nlaw he had imposed upon himself, took him home with him. The repast with\nwhich Abon Hassan regaled his guests was not costly, but always plain and\nneat, with plenty of good wine, and generally lasted till the night was\npretty well advanced; when, instead of entertaining his guest with the\naffairs of state, his family or business, as is too frequent, he affected\nto talk of indifferent subjects, and was naturally of so gay and pleasant\na temper, that he could give the most agreeable turns in conversation,\nand make the most reserved and melancholy persons merry. When he saw his\nguest again the next morning, he always said to him, God preserve you\nfrom all sorrow wherever you go: when I invited you yesterday to come and\nsup with me, I informed you of the law I have made; therefore do not take\nit ill if I tell you that we must never see one another again, nor drink\ntogether, for reasons best known to myself: so God conduct you.\n\nAbon Hassan was very exact in the observation of this oath, and never\nlooked upon, or spoke to, any stranger he had once entertained, wherever\nhe met them; and had lived for a long time after this manner, when one\nafternoon, a little before sunset, as he was sitting upon the bridge,\naccording to custom, the caliph Haroun Alraschid came by so disguised\nthat nobody could know him: for that monarch, though his chief ministers\nand officers of justice acquitted themselves of their duty very\npunctually, yet would take notice of every thing himself; and, to that\npurpose, often disguised himself, and walked through the city and suburbs\nof Bagdad; and that day was dressed like a merchant of Moussel, who had\nbut just disembarked, and was followed by a slave.\n\nAs the caliph had in his disguise a grave and awful air, Abon Hassan, who\nthought him to be a Moussel merchant, went directly to him; and, after\nhaving saluted him with a smiling countenance, and kissed his hand, said,\nSir, I congratulate you on your happy arrival, and beg of you to do me\nthe honour to go and sup with me, and repose yourself at my home this\nnight, after the fatigue of your voyage; and, to oblige him not to deny\nhim that favour, he told him his custom of entertaining the first\nstranger he met with. The caliph found something so odd and singular in\nAbon Hassan\u2019s taste, that he was very desirous to know the bottom,\nwithout quitting the character of a merchant; and told him, that he could\nnot better answer that great civility, which he did not expect at his\narrival at Bagdad, than by accepting the obliging offer that he made him.\n\nAbon Hassan, who knew not that the guest which fortune presented to him\nwas so very much above him, treated him as his equal, carried him home,\nand led him into a room very neatly furnished, where he set him on a\nsofa, at the upper end of a table that was ready laid for supper, which\nwas soon after sent up by Abon Hassan\u2019s mother, who took upon herself the\ncare of the kitchen, and consisted of three dishes. The first was a capon\nand four large pullets, which were set in the middle; and the second and\nthird, placed on each side, were a fat roasted goose and boiled pigeons,\nall dressed very neatly, and with proper sauces.\n\nAbon Hassan sat down over against his guest, and he and the caliph began\nto eat heartily of what they liked best, without speaking or drinking,\naccording to the custom of the country. When they had done eating, the\ncaliph\u2019s slave brought them water to wash their hands; and, in the mean\ntime, Abon Hassan\u2019s mother sent up a dessert of all sorts of dried\nsweetmeats, and all the fruits then in season, as grapes, peaches,\napples, pears, &c. As soon as it grew dark, wax-candles were lighted, and\nAbon Hassan, after charging his mother to take care of the caliph\u2019s\nslave, brought bottles and glasses.\n\nThen Abon Hassan, sitting down with the pretended Moussel merchant again,\nfilled out a glass of wine, before he touched the dessert; and holding it\nout in his hand, said to the caliph, You know, sir, that the cock never\ndrinks before he calls to his hens to come and drink with him; so I\ninvite you to follow my example. I do not know what you may think; for my\npart, I cannot reckon him a wise man who does not love wine: come, let us\nleave those sort of people to their dull melancholy humours, and seek for\nmirth, which is only to be found in a brimmer.\n\nWhile Abon Hassan was drinking, the caliph, taking the glass that was set\nby him, said, Now I like you, you are an honest fellow; I am mightily\ntaken with your pleasant temper, and expect you should fill me as much.\nAbon Hassan, as soon as he had drunk, filled the caliph\u2019s glass, and\ngiving it to him, Here, sir, said he, taste this wine; I will warrant it\ngood. I am very well persuaded, replied the caliph, laughing, that you\nknow how to make choice of the best. O, replied Abon Hassan, while the\ncaliph was taking off his glass, one may easily find that you know what\ngood living is, and have seen the world. Alas! how happy is my house in\nyour presence, and how overjoyed am I for meeting with a man of so much\nmerit.\n\nThe caliph, who was naturally a merry man, was mightily diverted with\nthese sallies of Abon Hassan, and took great pleasure in promoting\ndrinking, often asking for wine, thinking that when that began to work,\nhe might penetrate so far into his discourse as to satisfy his curiosity.\nTherefore, to enter into conversation, he asked him his name, his\nbusiness, and how he spent his life. My name, sir, replied he, is Abon\nHassan: my father, whom I buried, was a merchant of Bagdad; and though he\nwas not the richest, yet he lived very well. When he died, he left me\nenough in my station to live free from ambition; but as he always kept a\nvery strict hand over me in his life-time, I was willing, when he was\ngone, to make up the time I thought I had lost.\n\nBut notwithstanding, continued Abon Hassan, in this I was more prudent\nthan most young people are, who give themselves unto debauchery without\nany thought, and who reduce themselves to the utmost poverty, and are\nforced to do penance all the rest of their lives after. Now I, to avoid\nthis misfortune, divided what I had left me in two parts, and with one\nbought an estate, with a resolution not to finger my rents at that time;\nand kept the other in ready money to pursue my extravagances with. I\nassociated myself with young people of my age, and with my ready money,\nwhich I spent profusely, treated them every day; and, in short, spared\nfor no sort of pleasure. But these feastings did not last long; for by\nthat time the year was out, I had got to the bottom of my cash, and then\nall my friends vanished. I made a visit to every one of them, and\nrepresented to them the miserable condition I was in, but none of them\nwould relieve me. Upon this, I renounced their friendship, and retrenched\nso far as to live within the compass of my income, and obliged myself to\nkeep company with none but the first stranger I could meet with, coming\nthat day into Bagdad, and to entertain him but one night. I have told you\nthe rest before; and I thank my good fortune this day for meeting with a\nstranger of so much worth.\n\nThe caliph was very well satisfied with this information, and said to\nAbon Hassan, I cannot enough commend the measures you have taken, and the\nprudence with which you have acted, by forsaking your debauchery; a\nconduct rarely to be met with in young persons; and I esteem you the more\nfor being so just to yourself as you have been. It was a slippery path\nyou trode in; and I cannot enough admire, how, after having seen the end\nof your ready money, you had so great a command over yourself not to\nenter upon your estate. In short, I must own I envy your happiness: you\nare the only happy man in the world, to enjoy every day the company of\nsome one honest man, with whom you can discourse freely and agreeably,\nand to whom you give an opportunity to declare, wherever he goes, how\nhandsomely he was received by you. But we talk too long without drinking;\ncome drink, and pour out to me.\n\nIn this manner the caliph and Abon Hassan entertained each other,\ndrinking and talking of indifferent matters till the night was pretty far\nadvanced; when the caliph, pretending to be fatigued after his voyage,\ntold his host he stood in need of a little rest; but, added he, that I\nmay not deprive you of yours, before we part, because to-morrow I may be\ngone before you are stirring, I would be glad to show you how sensible I\nam of your civility, and the kind and obliging hospitality you have shown\nme. The only thing that troubles me is, that I know not which way to pay\nmy acknowledgment; therefore I beg of you to let me understand how I may,\nand you shall see I will not be ungrateful; for certainly you must have\nsome business in which you may be served, or must want something which\nyou could wish for. Speak freely, and declare your mind; for, though I am\nbut a merchant, it may be in mine or some friend\u2019s power to oblige you.\n\nTo these offers of the caliph, Abon Hassan, taking him still for a\nMoussel merchant, replied, I am very well persuaded, good sir, that it is\nnot out of a compliment that you make me these generous tenders; but,\nupon the word of an honest man, I have nothing that troubles me, no\nbusiness nor desires, and want not any thing. I have not the least\nambition, as I told you before, but am very well satisfied with my\ncondition. Therefore, I can only thank you for your obliging proffers,\nand the honour you have done me to come and take a slight repast with me.\nYet I must tell you, pursued Abon Hassan, there is one thing gives me\ngreat uneasiness. You know the town of Bagdad is divided into several\nparts and divisions, to each of which there belongs a mosque, and an iman\nto read prayers at certain hours. The iman of the division I live in is\nan old man, of an austere countenance, and the greatest hypocrite in the\nworld. This man, and four old men of this neighbourhood, who are people\nof the same stamp, meet every day at the iman\u2019s house; there they vent\ntheir slander, calumny, and malice against me and the whole division, to\nthe disturbance of the public peace of the neighbourhood, and the\npromotion of dissension. Some they threaten, others they rail against;\nand, in short, would be lords paramount, and have every one govern\nhimself according to their caprice; and, at the same time, know not how\nto govern themselves. Indeed, I would have them meddle with nothing but\ntheir Alcoran, and let the world live quietly.\n\nWell, I suppose, said the caliph, you would willingly put a stop to this\ndisorder. You have guessed it, answered Abon Hassan; and the only thing I\nshould desire, would be to be caliph only for one day, in the stead of\nour sovereign lord and master Haroun Alraschid, the commander of the\nfaithful. What would you do if you were? said the caliph. I would make\nthem examples, answered Abon Hassan, to the satisfaction of all honest\nmen. I would punish the four old men with each a hundred bastinadoes on\nthe soles of their feet, and the iman with four hundred, to learn them\nnot to disturb and abuse their neighbours any more.\n\nThe caliph was extremely well pleased with this thought of Abon Hassan\u2019s;\nand, as he was a prince who loved adventures, he fancied to make this a\nvery singular one. Indeed, said he, I approve very much of your wish,\nwhich I see proceeds from an upright mind, that cannot bear to see the\nmalice of wicked people go unpunished. I could like to see it take\neffect, and that is not so impossible a thing as you imagine. I am\npersuaded that the caliph would willingly put his authority for\ntwenty-four hours into your hands, if he knew your good intentions, and\nthe just use you would make of it. I see, said Abon Hassan, you laugh at\nmy foolish fancy; and the caliph himself would laugh at my extravagance\ntoo if he knew it; but yet it would be a means of informing him of the\niman\u2019s and his companions\u2019 behaviour, and he might chastise them.\n\nHeaven forbid, replied the caliph, that I, who have been so handsomely\nentertained by you, should laugh at you; neither do I believe, as much a\nstranger as I am, that the caliph would be displeased. But let us lay\nthis discourse aside; it is almost midnight, and time to go to bed. With\nall my heart, said Abon Hassan, I would not be any hindrance to your\ngoing to rest; but there is still some wine in the bottle, and, if you\nplease, we will drink it off first. The only thing that I have to\nrecommend to you is, that, when you go out in the morning, if I am not\nup, you will give yourself the trouble of shutting the door after you,\nwhich the caliph promised; and while Abon Hassan was talking, took the\nbottle and two glasses, and filled his own first, saying, Here is a cup\nof thanks to you; and then filling the other, put artfully a little\npowder, which he had about him, into it, and giving it to Abon Hassan,\nsaid, you have taken the pains to fill for me all this night, and it is\nthe least I can do to save you the trouble once; come, drink to our good\nrepose.\n\nAbon Hassan took the glass, and, to show his guest with how much pleasure\nhe received the honour he did him, whipped it off at once; but had\nscarcely set the glass upon the table before the powder began to work,\nand he fell into so sound a sleep, that his head knocked against his\nknees. The caliph ordered the slave that he had brought along with him,\nand who came again into the room as soon as he had supped, to take him\nupon his back, and follow him; but to be sure to observe the house, that\nhe might know it again when he should bring him back; and in this manner\nthe caliph, followed by the slave with Abon Hassan on his back, went out\nof the house, but without shutting the door after him, as Abon Hassan\ndesired, and went directly to his palace, and, by a backdoor, into his\nown apartment, where all the officers of his apartment were waiting for\nhim, whom he ordered to undress him, and put him in his bed, which they\nimmediately performed.\n\nThen the caliph sent for all the officers and ladies of the palace, and\nsaid to them, I would have all those whose business it is to attend my\nlevee wait to-morrow morning upon this man who lies in my bed, and pay\nthe same respect to him as to myself, and obey him in whatever he\ncommands; let him be refused in nothing that he asks for, and be spoken\nto and answered in every thing he says or does, as if he was the\ncommander of the faithful. In short, I expect you to look upon him as the\ntrue caliph, and neglect not the least circumstance.\n\nThe officers and ladies presently understood that the caliph had a mind\nto divert himself, and made low bows to show their obedience, and then\nwithdrew, every one full of the part they were to act.\n\nThen he sent for the grand vizier: Giafar, said he, I have sent for you\nto instruct you, and to prevent your being surprised to-morrow when you\ncome to an audience, to see this man, that is laid here in my bed, seated\non my throne in my royal robes: accost him with the same reverence and\nrespect you pay to myself; observe, and punctually execute, whatever he\nbids you do, the same as if I commanded you, even if his liberality\nshould extend so far as to empty all the coffers in my treasury; and\nremember to acquaint all my emirs and huissirs, all the officers without\nthe palace, to pay him the same honour at audience as the commander of\nthe believers himself; and to carry on the matter so well, that he might\nnot perceive the least thing that may interrupt this joke which I am\ndiverting myself with.\n\nAfterwards the grand vizier retired, and the caliph went to bed in\nanother apartment; and ordered Mesrour, the chief of his eunuchs, to take\ncare to manage things so well, that he might see how Abon Hassan would\nuse the power and authority of the caliph for the time he desired to have\nit; and, above all, charged him to awake him at the usual hour, before he\nawakened Abon Hassan, because he had a mind to be present when he rose.\n\nMesrour failed not to do as the caliph had commanded; and, as soon as the\ncaliph went into the room where Abon Hassan lay, he placed himself in a\nlittle closet, from whence he could see all that passed. All the officers\nand ladies who were to attend Abon Hassan\u2019s levee, took their posts\naccording to their rank, with great silence, and discharged themselves as\npunctually of their offices as if the caliph had been to rise.\n\nAs it was just day-break, and time to rise to morning prayer before\nsun-rise, the officer that stood nearest to the head of the bed, put a\nsponge steeped in vinegar to Abon Hassan\u2019s nose; who, presently turning\nhis head about without opening his eyes, sneezed heartily, which was\ngenerally the effect of the caliph\u2019s powder, and which lasted longer or\nshorter in proportion to the dose. Then opening his eyes, he found\nhimself, by the small light that appeared, in a stately room\nmagnificently furnished, the ceiling of which was finely painted, and the\nfloor covered with a rich silk tapestry, and surrounded by a great many\nyoung and handsome ladies, with all sorts of instruments of music in\ntheir hands, and black eunuchs richly clothed, all standing with great\nmodesty and respect. After casting his eyes on the quilt of the bed, he\nperceived it was cloth of gold, richly embossed with pearls and diamonds;\nand that there was laid by the bed a habit of the same stuff and\ntrimmings, with a caliph\u2019s turban.\n\nAt the sight of these glittering objects, Abon Hassan was in the most\ninexpressible confusion and amazement, and looked upon all he saw as a\ndream. So, said he to himself, I am caliph; but, added he a little after,\nit is only a dream, the effect of the wish I entertained my guest with\nlast night; and then he turned himself about to sleep again. At the same\ntime, the eunuch said very respectfully, Commander of the Faithful, it is\ntime for your majesty to rise to prayers; the morning begins to advance.\n\nThese words very much surprised Abon Hassan. Am I awake, or do I sleep?\nsaid he to himself. Ah! certainly I am asleep! continued he, keeping his\neyes shut; there is no reason to doubt of it.\n\nImmediately the eunuch, who saw he had no inclination to get up, and that\nhe gave him no answer, said again, Your majesty, I hope, will not be\nangry, if I tell you once more that it is time to rise to morning prayer,\nwhich you never neglect, and the sun is just upon rising. I am mistaken,\nsaid Abon Hassan presently; I am not asleep, but awake: for those that\nsleep do not hear, and I hear very distinctly. Then opening his eyes, he\nsaw plainly by broad daylight, what appeared but uncertain before, and\nrising upon his breech, with a smiling countenance, like a man overjoyed\nat a sudden promotion, pleased the caliph, who penetrated into the bottom\nof his thoughts.\n\nThen the ladies of the palace prostrated themselves with their faces to\nthe ground before Abon Hassan, and those who had the instruments of music\nin their hands, wished him a good-morrow, by a concert of soft flutes,\nhautboys, theorboes, and other harmonious instruments, with which he was\nravished, and was in such an ecstasy, that he knew not himself, nor where\nhe was; but, recovering at last his first idea, he doubted whether what\nhe saw was a dream or matter of fact. He clapped his hands before his\neyes, and lowering his head, said to himself, What means all this? where\nam I? and whom does this palace belong to? What can these eunuchs,\nofficers, beautiful ladies, and musicians signify? How is it possible for\nme to distinguish whether I am in my right senses or in a dream? When he\ntook his hands from his eyes, the sun shone full in at the\nchamber-window; and at that instant, Mesrour, the chief of the eunuchs,\ncame in, prostrated himself before Abon Hassan, and said, Commander of\nthe Faithful, your majesty will excuse me for representing to you, that\nyou used not to lie so long, and that the time of prayer is over; I am\nafraid your majesty has had an ill night, and has been indisposed, and\nmay not be able to ascend your throne in council as usual: all your\ngenerals, governors, and other officers of state, wait your presence in\nthe council-hall.\n\nAt this discourse of Mesrour\u2019s, Abon Hassan was verily persuaded that he\nwas neither asleep nor in a dream; but, at the same time, was very much\nembarrassed and confused. At last, looking earnestly at Mesrour, he said\nto him in a serious tone, Who is it you speak to, and call the commander\nof the faithful? For my part, I do not know you, and you mistake me for\nsomebody else.\n\nAny person but Mesrour would have been dashed at these questions of Abon\nHassan\u2019s; but he had been so well instructed by the caliph, that he\nplayed his part to a wonder. My worthy lord and master, said he, your\nmajesty only speaks thus to try me: is not your majesty the commander of\nthe faithful, monarch of the world, and the prophet\u2019s vicar on earth?\nMesrour, your slave, has not forgot you, after so many years that he has\nhad the honour and happiness to serve and pay his respects to your\nmajesty; and should think himself the most unhappy of all men if he has\nincurred your displeasure, and begs of you most humbly to remove his\nfears; but is apt to believe that you have been disturbed by some\ntroublesome dream last night.\n\nAbon Hassan burst out a-laughing at these words of Mesrour\u2019s, and fell\nbackwards upon the bolster, which pleased the caliph so much, that he\nwould have laughed as loud himself, if he had not been afraid of putting\na stop to the pleasant scene he promised himself.\n\nAbon Hassan, when he had tired himself with laughing, sat up again on his\nbreech, and, speaking to a little black eunuch that stood by him, said,\nHark ye, tell me who I am. Sir, answered the little boy modestly, your\nmajesty is the commander of the believers, and God\u2019s vicar on earth. You\nare a liar, sooty face, said Abon Hassan. Then he called the lady that\nstood the nearest to him: Come hither, fair one, said he, holding out his\nhand, bite the end of my finger, that I may feel whether I am asleep or\nawake.\n\nThe lady, who knew the caliph saw all that passed, was overjoyed to show\nhow capable she was of diverting him, and went with a grave countenance,\nand putting his finger between her teeth, she bit so hard that he cried\nout; and, snatching his hand quickly back again, said, I find I am awake,\nand not asleep. But by what miracle am I become caliph in a night\u2019s time?\nThis is certainly the most strange and surprising thing in the world!\nThen addressing himself to the same lady, he said, I conjure you, for\nHeaven\u2019s sake, not to hide the truth from me; am I really the commander\nof the faithful? It is so true, answered the lady, that we, who are your\nslaves, are amazed to find that you will not believe yourself to be so.\nAh! you are a deceiver, replied Abon Hassan; I know very well who I am.\n\nAs the chief of the eunuchs perceived that Abon Hassan had a mind to\nrise, he lent him his hand, and helped him to get out of bed. No sooner\nwere his feet set on the floor, than the chamber rang again with repeated\nacclamations of the officers and ladies, who cried out, God preserve your\nmajesty, and give you a good day. O Heaven! cried Abon Hassan, what a\nstrange thing is this! Last night I was Abon Hassan, and this morning I\nam the commander of the believers! I cannot comprehend this sudden and\nsurprising change. Presently some of the officers began to dress him; and\nwhen they had done, Mesrour led him through all the eunuchs and ladies,\nwho were ranged on both sides quite to the council-chamber door, which\nwas opened by one of the huissirs. Mesrour walked before him to the foot\nof the throne, where he stopped, and putting one hand under one arm,\nwhile another officer did the same by the other, they helped him to\nascend the throne.\n\nThe caliph, in the mean time, came out of the closet where he was hid,\nand went into another which looked into the council-hall, from whence he\ncould hear all that passed, and see Abon Hassan, who filled his throne\nwith all the gravity imaginable.\n\nAs soon as Abon Hassan had seated himself, the grand vizier Giafar\nprostrated himself at the foot of the throne, and addressing himself to\nhim, said, God shower down blessings on your majesty in this life,\nreceive you into his paradise in the other world, and confound your\nenemies!\n\nAbon Hassan, after all that had happened that morning, and these words of\nthe grand vizier, never doubted but he was caliph, as he wished to be;\nand so, without examining any farther, how, or by what adventure or\nsudden change of fortune, he immediately began to exercise his power, and\nlooking very gravely upon the vizier, asked him what he had to say.\nCommander of the Faithful, replied the grand vizier, the emirs, viziers,\nand other officers who are of your majesty\u2019s council, wait at the door,\nuntil your majesty give them leave to come in, and pay their usual\nrespects to you. Abon Hassan presently bade that the door be opened, and\nthe grand vizier gave the sign to the huissir that waited for it.\n\nWhen the door was opened, the viziers, emirs, and principal officers of\nthe court, all dressed magnificently in their habits of ceremony, went in\ntheir order to the foot of the throne, and paid their respects to Abon\nHassan; and bowing their heads down to the carpet, kneeling on one knee,\nsaluted him with the title of Commander of the Faithful, according to the\ninstruction of the grand vizier, and afterwards took their seats.\n\nWhen this ceremony was over, the grand vizier, standing before the\nthrone, began with papers in his hand to make his report of affairs,\nwhich at that time were of very little consequence. Nevertheless, Abon\nHassan acquitted himself in his great post without the least\nembarrassment; and gave judgment so well in all matters, that the caliph\ncould not help wondering at his address. But before the grand vizier had\nfinished his report, Abon Hassan called the judge of the police, whom he\nknew by sight, as he sat in his place: Hold, said he to the grand vizier,\nI have something to order the judge of the police. The judge of the\npolice perceiving that Abon Hassan looked at him, and hearing his name\nmentioned, arose from his seat, and went gravely to the foot of the\nthrone, where he prostrated himself with his face to the ground. Judge of\nthe police, said Abon Hassan, go immediately to such a division, and\nseize the iman of the mosque, and four old men, (whom he described,) and\ngive each of the old men a hundred bastinadoes with a bull\u2019s pizzle, and\nthe iman four hundred: after that, mount them all five on camels, with\ntheir faces to the tails; and lead them through the whole city, with a\ncrier before them, who shall proclaim, This is the punishment of all\nthose who trouble their heads with other people\u2019s affairs, and make it\ntheir business to create disturbances and misunderstandings in families\nin their neighbourhood. My intention is also, that you enjoin them to\nleave that division, and never to set a foot more in it; and while your\nlieutenant is conducting them through the town, return, and give me an\naccount of the execution of my orders. The judge of the police laid his\nhand upon his head, to show his obedience, and, prostrating himself a\nsecond time, went away.\n\nThe caliph was extremely well pleased at this order; and perceived by\nAbon Hassan\u2019s strictness and expedition, that he was resolved not to lose\nthe opportunity of punishing the iman and the other four old hypocrites.\nIn the mean time, the grand vizier went on with his report, and had just\ndone when the judge of the police came back from executing his\ncommission. He went to the throne with the usual ceremony, and said,\nCommander of the Faithful, I found the iman and his four companions; and\nfor a proof that I have punctually obeyed your commands, I have brought\nan instrument signed by the principal inhabitants of that division: at\nthe same time, he pulled out a paper, and presented it to the pretended\ncaliph.\n\nAbon Hassan took the paper, and reading over the names of the witnesses,\nwho were all people that he knew very well, said to the judge of the\npolice, It is very well; return to your seat. These old hypocrites, said\nhe to himself, with a great deal of satisfaction in his looks, who must\nbe censuring my actions, and finding fault with my entertaining honest\npeople, deserved this punishment. The caliph all the time penetrated into\nhis thoughts, and conceived a sensible joy in this expedition.\n\nThen Abon Hassan, addressing himself afterwards to the grand vizier,\nsaid, Go to the high treasurer for a purse of a thousand pieces of gold,\nand carry it to the mother of Abon Hassan, who is known by the name of\nthe Debauchee; she lives in the same division into which I sent the judge\nof the police: return immediately.\n\nThe grand vizier, after laying his hand upon his head, and prostrating\nhimself before the throne, went to the high treasurer, who gave him the\nmoney, which he ordered a slave to take, and follow him to Abon Hassan\u2019s\nmother, to whom he gave it, saying only, The caliph makes you this\npresent. She received it with the greatest surprise imaginable, and could\nnot tell what to think of this liberality of the caliph.\n\nDuring the grand vizier\u2019s absence, the judge of the police acted for him,\nin making the report, which lasted till the vizier returned. As soon as\nhe came into the council-chamber, and had assured Abon Hassan he had done\nas he had bade him, Mesrour, the chief of the eunuchs, who returned to\nthe palace after he had conducted Abon Hassan to the council, came again,\nand made a sign to the viziers, emirs, and other officers, that the\ncouncil was done, and that they might all retire; which they all did, by\nmaking the same reverence and obedience as when they entered.\n\nAbon Hassan sat not long after them, but came down from the throne,\nsupported in the same manner as he went up to it, by Mesrour and another\neunuch, who attended him back again to the apartment from whence he came,\npreceded all the way by the grand vizier: but before he reached the\napartment, he was taken with a pressing occasion; upon which they showed\nhim into a convenient closet, paved with white marble; and while Abon\nHassan was there, the grand vizier went to acquaint the caliph with what\nhad passed, though he had been an eye-witness all the time.\n\nWhen Abon Hassan came out of the closet, Mesrour went before him, to show\nhim the way into an inner apartment, where there was a table spread.\nSeveral eunuchs ran before, to tell the musicians that the sham caliph\nwas coming, who immediately began a concert of vocal and instrumental\nmusic, with which Abon Hassan was so charmed and transported, that he\ncould not tell what to think at all he saw and heard. If this is a dream,\nsaid he, it is a long one: but certainly, continued he, it is no dream;\nfor I can see and feel, walk, hear, and argue reasonably. Whatever it is,\nI trust in God: yet I cannot believe but I am the commander of the\nfaithful; for no other person could live in this splendour. The honour\nand respect that is given me, and the obedience paid to my commands, are\nsufficient proofs.\n\nIn short, Abon Hassan took it for granted that he was caliph, and the\ncommander of the faithful; and was fully convinced of it, when he entered\nthat magnificent and spacious hall, which was finely painted. Seven bands\nof musicians were placed round the hall, and as many gold branches hung\ndown from the ceiling, which was painted with blue and gold. In the\nmiddle of the hall there was spread a table, which was served up with all\nmanner of rarities, in massy gold plates and dishes; and seven young\nbeautiful ladies, dressed in the richest habits, of the most lively\ncolours, stood round this table, each with a fan in her hand, to fan Abon\nHassan when at dinner.\n\nIf ever mortal was charmed, Abon Hassan was: at every step he took in\nthat stately hall, he could not help stopping to contemplate on all the\nwonders that regaled his eyes, and turned his head first on one side and\nthen again on the other, which made the caliph almost split his sides\nwith laughing. At last he went and sat down at the table, and presently\nall the ladies that stood about it began to fan him. He looked first at\none and then at another, and admired the grace with which they acquitted\nthemselves; and told them, with a smile, that he believed one fan was\nenough to cool him, and would have six of the ladies sit at table with\nhim, three on his right hand and three on his left; that, as the table\nwas round, which way soever he turned, his eyes might be saluted with\nagreeable objects.\n\nThe six ladies obeyed; and Abon Hassan taking notice that, out of\nrespect, they did not eat, helped them himself, and invited them to eat\nin the most pressing and obliging terms. Afterwards, he asked their\nnames; which they told him were, White neck, Coral Lips, Fair Face, Sun\nShine, Heart\u2019s Delight, Sweet Looks, and she who fanned him was Sugar\nCane. The many soft things he said upon their names, showed him to be a\nman of a sprightly wit, and very much increased the esteem which the\ncaliph (who saw every thing) had for him.\n\nWhen the ladies saw that Abon Hassan had done eating, one of them said to\nthe eunuch who waited, the commander of the faithful will go into the\nnext hall to the desert: bring some water. Upon which they all rose from\nthe table, and taking from the eunuchs, one a gold basin, another an\newer, and a third a towel, kneeled down before Abon Hassan, and presented\nthem to him to wash his hands; who, as soon as he had done, got up, and\nafter an eunuch had opened the door, went, preceded by Mesrour, who never\nleft him, into another hall, as large as the former, adorned with the\nbest paintings, gold vessels, silk tapestry, and other rich furniture.\nThere seven other bands of music began a new concert, as soon as Abon\nHassan appeared. In this hall there were seven gold branches, and a table\nfull of dried sweetmeats, and the most choice and exquisite fruits,\nraised in pyramids, in seven gold basins, and seven ladies, more\nbeautiful than the others, standing round it, with fans in their hands.\n\nThese new objects put Abon Hassan into a greater admiration than ever;\nwho, after he had made a full stop, and given the most sensible marks of\nhis surprise and astonishment, went directly to the table; where, sitting\ndown, he gazed a considerable time at the seven ladies, with an\nembarrassment that plainly showed he knew not which to give the\npreference to. At last he ordered them all to sit and eat with him,\ntelling them that it was not so hot but he could spare them that trouble.\n\nWhen the ladies were all placed about him, the first thing he did was to\nask their names, which were different from the other seven, and expressed\nsome perfection of either mind or body, which distinguished them from one\nanother; and upon which he took an opportunity, when he presented them\nwith fruit, &c. to say somewhat that was handsome. Take this fig, said he\nto Chain of Hearts, who sat on his right hand, and render the fetters\nwith which you loaded me at first sight more supportable; and so went on\nto the rest. By these ways, Abon Hassan pleased and diverted the caliph\nmore and more, who was resolved to carry on this scene which entertained\nhim so agreeably.\n\nAfter Abon Hassan had tasted of all the fruits, &c. he got up and\nfollowed Mesrour into a third hall, much more magnificently furnished\nthan the other two; where he was received by the same number of musicians\nand ladies, who stood about a table covered over with all manner of\nsweetmeats. After he had looked about him with new admiration, he\nadvanced to the table, the music playing all the time, which ceased when\nhe sat down. The seven ladies sat down with him, by his order, and helped\nthemselves, as he desired them, to what they liked best; and afterwards\nhe informed himself of their names, which pleased him as much as the\nothers had done.\n\nBy this time the day began to close, and Abon Hassan was conducted into\nthe fourth hall, much more stately and magnificently furnished, lighted\nwith wax-candles, in seven gold branches and sconces, which were placed\nall around it, all which made a glorious light. Abon Hassan found the\nsame number of musicians here as he had done in the other halls, and saw\nalso as many ladies standing round a table, furnished with such things as\nwere proper to promote drinking. There he saw a beaufet, which he had not\nobserved in any of the other halls, which was set out with seven large\nsilver flagons full of the choicest wines, and seven crystal glasses by\nthem.\n\nAll the day long, Abon Hassan had drunk nothing but water, according to a\ncustom observed at Bagdad, from the highest to the lowest; who never\ndrink wine till the evening, it being accounted the most scandalous thing\nin the world to be seen drunk in the streets in the day-time.\n\nAs soon as Abon Hassan entered the fourth hall, he went directly to the\ntable and sat down, and was a long time in a kind of ecstasy at the sight\nof those seven ladies, who were much more beautiful than all he beheld in\nthe other halls. He was very desirous to know all their names; but the\nmusic playing then so very loud that he could not hear them speak, he\nmade a sign for them to leave off playing: then taking one of the ladies\nwho sat next to him by the hand, he made her sit down by him, and\npresenting her with some of those relishing viands before him, asked her\nname. Commander of the Faithful, said the lady, I am called Cluster of\nPearls. No name, replied Abon Hassan, could have more properly expressed\nyour worth; and indeed your teeth exceed the finest pearls. Cluster of\nPearls, added he, since that is your name, oblige me with a glass of wine\nfrom your fair hand. The lady went presently to the beaufet, and brought\nhim a glass with a pleasant air. Abon Hassan took the glass with a smile,\nand looking passionately upon her; said, Cluster of Pearls, your health;\nI desire you to fill out as much for yourself, and pledge me. Accordingly\nshe went to the beaufet, and returned with a glass in her hand; but\nbefore she drank, she sang a song, and by the sweetness of her voice\nravished his senses.\n\nAfter Abon Hassan had drunk, he made another lady sit, and presenting her\nwith some of the viands, asked her name, which she told him was Morning\nStar. Your bright eyes, said he, shine with greater lustre than that star\nyou bear the name of. Do me the pleasure to bring me some wine; which she\ndid, with an extraordinary grace. Then turning to the third lady, whose\nname was Daylight, he ordered her to do the same; and so on to the\nseventh, to the extreme satisfaction of the caliph.\n\nWhen they had all filled him round, Cluster of Pearls went to the\nbeaufet, poured out a glass of wine, and putting in a pinch of the same\npowder the caliph had used the night before, presented it to Abon Hassan.\nCommander of the Faithful, said she, I beg of your majesty to take this\nglass of wine; and, before you drink it off, do me the favour to hear a\nsong I have made to-day, and which may not displease you. With all my\nheart, said Abon Hassan, taking the glass; and, as commander of the\nfaithful, I command you to sing it: for I am persuaded that so beautiful\na lady as yourself must abound with wit and humour. The lady took a lute,\nand tuning it to her voice, sang with so much justness and grace, and\nwith such delicate turns of thought and expression, that Abon Hassan was\nin perfect ecstasy all the time, and was so much delighted, that he\nordered her to sing it again.\n\nWhen the lady had done, Abon Hassan drank off his glass, and, turning his\nhead towards her, to give her those praises which he thought due to her,\nfell fast asleep with his mouth open gaping, and his eyes close shut,\njust in the same condition as when the caliph brought him from home; who\ntook a greater satisfaction in this scene, than he could have promised\nhimself. One of the ladies stood ready to catch the glass, which fell out\nof his hand; and then the caliph, who was all along a spectator of what\nhad passed, came into the hall to them, and ordered Abon Hassan to be\ndressed again in his own clothes, and to be carried back again to his own\nhouse by the same slave that brought him, charging him to lay him on a\nsofa in the same room, and to leave the door open.\n\nThe slave took Abon Hassan upon his shoulders, and carried him home by a\nback-door of the palace, and returned with speed to acquaint the caliph\nhe had executed his commands. Well, said the caliph, Abon Hassan wished\nonly to be caliph for one day, to punish the iman of the mosque, and the\nfour scheiks or old men of his division, who had displeased him: I have\nprocured him the means, and he ought to be content.\n\nIn the mean time, Abon Hassan, who was laid upon a sofa by the slave,\nslept very late the next morning. When the powder was worked off, Abon\nHassan opened his eyes, and finding himself at home, was in the utmost\nsurprise. Cluster of Pearls! Morning Star! Coral Lips! Fair Face! cried\nhe, calling the ladies of the palace by their names, as he remembered\nthem: Where are you? Come hither.\n\nAbon Hassan called so loud, that his mother, who was in her own\napartment, heard, and running to him upon the noise he made, said, What\ndo you mean, son? What is the matter? At these words, Abon Hassan lifted\nup his head, and looking haughtily at his mother, said, Good woman, who\nis it you call son? Why, you, answered his mother, very calmly; are not\nyou Abon Hassan, my son? It is a strange thing that you have forgot\nyourself. I your son, old trull! replied Abon Hassan; thou art mad, and\nknowest not what thou sayest: I am not Abon Hassan, I tell you, but the\ncommander of the faithful.\n\nHold your tongue, son, answered the mother; one would think you were a\nfool, to hear you talk thus. You are an old fool yourself, replied Abon\nHassan: I tell you once more, I am the commander of the faithful, and\nGod\u2019s vicar on earth. Ah! child, cried the mother, is it possible that I\nshould hear you utter such words, that show you are distracted? What evil\ngenius possesses you, to make you talk at this rate? God bless you, and\npreserve you from the power of Satan. You are my son Abon Hassan, and I\nam your mother.\n\nAfter she had made use of all the arguments she could think of to bring\nhim to himself, and to show how great an error he was in, she said, Do\nnot you see that the room you are now in is your own, and is not like a\nchamber fit for the commander of the believers? Think seriously of what I\nhave said to you, and do not fancy things that are not, nor ever can be.\n\nAbon Hassan heard all these remonstrances of his mother very patiently,\nholding down his eyes, and clapping his hands before his face, like one\nwho was looking into himself to examine the truth of what he saw and\nheard. At last, said he to his mother, just as if he was come out of a\ndeep sleep, and with his hands in the same posture, Methinks I am Abon\nHassan, you are my mother, and I am in my own room. Then looking about\nhim again, he added, I am Abon Hassan, there is no doubt of it; and I\ncannot comprehend how this fancy came into my head.\n\nThe mother really believed that her son was cured of that disorder of\nmind, and began to laugh, and ask him questions about his dream; when,\nall on a sudden, he started up on his breech, and looking crossly at his\nmother, said, Old sorceress, thou knowest not what thou sayest. I am not\nthy son, nor thou my mother, but the commander of the faithful; and thou\nshalt never persuade me to the contrary. For heaven\u2019s sake, son, said the\nmother, let us leave off this discourse, and talk of something else, for\nfear some misfortune should happen to us. I will tell you what fell out\nyesterday in our division to the iman of the mosque, and the four scheiks\nour neighbours: the judge of the police came and seized them, and gave\neach of them I do not know how many strokes with a bull\u2019s pizzle; and\nafterwards led them through all the streets, with a crier before them,\nwho proclaimed, that that was the punishment of all those who troubled\nthemselves about other folks\u2019 business, and set their neighbours at\nvariance; and ordered them never to come into our division again. Abon\nHassan\u2019s mother could not imagine that her son had any share in this\nadventure, and therefore turned the discourse this way to put him out of\nthe conceit of being the commander of the faithful; but instead of\neffacing that idea, she rather strengthened it.\n\nAbon Hassan no sooner heard this relation, than he cried out, I am\nneither thy son, nor Abon Hassan, but certainly the commander of the\nbelievers: I cannot doubt of it, after what you have told me. Know then,\nthat it was by my order that the iman and the four scheiks were punished;\nand I tell you, I am certainly the commander of the faithful; therefore\ndo not tell me any more of its being a dream. I was not asleep, but as\nmuch awake as I am now. You do me a pleasure to confirm what the judge of\nthe police told me he had executed according to my order; and I am\noverjoyed that the iman and the four scheiks, those great hypocrites,\nwere so chastised, and would be glad to know how I came here. God be\npraised for all things! I am certainly commander of the faithful, and all\nthy arguments shall not convince me to the contrary.\n\nThe mother, who could not divine or imagine why her son supported and\nmaintained himself so strenuously to be caliph, never disputed but that\nhe had lost his senses, when she found he insisted so much upon a thing\nthat was so incredible; and in this thought said, I pray God to have\nmercy upon you, son! pray do not talk so madly. Beseech God to forgive\nyou, and give you grace to talk more reasonably. What would the world say\nto hear you rave in this manner? Do not you know, they say walls have\nears?\n\nThese remonstrances only enraged Abon Hassan the more; and he was so\nprovoked at his mother, that he said, Old woman, I have bid you once\nalready hold your tongue; if you do not, I shall rise and give you cause\nto repent it all your life-time. I am the caliph, and the commander of\nthe believers; and you ought to believe me when I say so.\n\nThen the good woman perceiving that he was more lunatic than ever,\nabandoned herself to tears; and beating her face and breast, expressed\nthe utmost grief and astonishment to see her son in that distraction.\nAbon Hassan, instead of appeasing and being moved by his mother\u2019s tears,\non the contrary, lost all the respect due from a son to his mother; and\ngetting up hastily, and laying hold of a cane, ran to his mother in great\nfury, and in a threatening manner said, Tell me presently, wicked woman,\nwho I am. I do not believe, son, replied she, looking at him tenderly,\nand void of fear, that you are so abandoned by God as not to know your\nmother, who brought you into the world. Indeed you are my son Abon\nHassan; and are very much in the wrong to arrogate to yourself the title\nof our sovereign lord the caliph Haroun Alraschid, after the noble and\ngenerous present that monarch made us yesterday. In short, I forgot to\ntell you, that the grand vizier Giafar came to me yesterday, and putting\na purse of a thousand pieces of gold into my hands, bade me pray for the\ncommander of the faithful, who made me that present.\n\nAt these words, Abon Hassan grew quite mad. The circumstance of the\ncaliph\u2019s liberality his mother told him of, persuaded him more than ever\nthat he was caliph, remembering how he had sent the vizier. Well, old\nhag, cried he, will you be convinced when I tell you that I sent you\nthose thousand pieces of gold by my grand vizier Giafar, who obeyed my\ncommands, as I was commander of the faithful? But, instead of believing\nme, thou endeavourest to distract me by thy contradictions, and\nmaintainest with obstinacy that I am thy son; but thou shalt not go long\nunpunished. After these words, he was so unnatural, in the height of his\nfrenzy, as to beat her cruelly with his cane.\n\nThe poor mother, who could not have thought that her son would have come\nso soon from words to blows, called out for help so loud, that the\nneighbours ran in to her assistance. But in the mean time, Abon Hassan,\nat every stroke, asked her if he was the commander of the faithful. To\nwhich she always answered tenderly, that he was her son.\n\nBy the time the neighbours came in, Abon Hassan\u2019s rage began to abate.\nThe first who entered the room got between him and his mother; and taking\nthe cane out of his hand, said to him, What are you doing, Abon Hassan?\nHave you no fear of God, nor reason? Did ever a son, so well brought up\nas you, ever dare to strike his mother? Are you not ashamed to treat\nyours so, who loves you so tenderly? Abon Hassan looked at him that\nspoke, without returning an answer; and then staring on all that followed\nhim, said, Who is that Abon Hassan you speak of? Is it me you call by\nthat name?\n\nThis question put the neighbours a little to a stand. How! said he that\nspoke first, do not you know your mother, who brought you up, and with\nwhom you have always lived? Be gone, you are impertinent people, replied\nAbon Hassan; I neither know her nor you, and will not know you; I am not\nAbon Hassan; but will make you know, to your cost, I am the commander of\nthe faithful.\n\nAt this discourse, the neighbours no longer doubted but that he was mad;\nand to prevent his being guilty of the like actions, seized him,\nnotwithstanding his resistance, and bound him hand and foot, while one in\nthe mean time ran for the keeper of the hospital for mad folks, who came\npresently with a bull\u2019s pizzle, chains, and handcuffs, and a great many\nattendants. When they entered the room, Abon Hassan, who little expected\nsuch treatment, endeavoured all he could to unloose himself; but after\nthe keeper had given him two or three smart strokes upon his shoulders\nwith the bull\u2019s pizzle, he lay so quiet, that the keeper and his people\nmight do what they would with him; who as soon as they had bound and\nmanacled him, took him with them to the hospital; where, before the\nkeeper put him into a room, he regaled him with fifty strokes of the\nbull\u2019s pizzle on his shoulders, which he repeated every day without pity\nfor three weeks, bidding him to remember that he was not the commander of\nthe faithful.\n\nAbon Hassan\u2019s mother went every day to see her son, and could not forbear\ncrying to see him fall away daily, and to hear him sigh and complain at\nthe hardships he endured. In short, his shoulders, back, and sides were\nso black and blue and bruized, that he could not turn himself. His mother\nwould willingly have talked with him, to comfort him, and to sound him\nwhether he still retained the notion of being caliph; but whenever she\nopened her mouth, he rebuked her with so much fury, that she was forced\nto leave him, and return home disconsolate at his obstinacy.\n\nAt last those strong and lively ideas which Abon Hassan entertained of\nbeing clothed in the caliph\u2019s habit, and having used all his authority,\nand being obeyed very punctually, and treated like the true caliph, and\nwhich persuaded him when he waked that he was so, all began to be\ninsensibly effaced. Sometimes he would say to himself, If I was the\ncaliph, and commander of the believers, how came I home dressed in my own\napparel? Why should I not have been attended by eunuchs and ladies? Why\nshould my grand Vizier Giafar, and all those emirs and governors of\nprovinces, who prostrated themselves at my feet, forsake me? Undoubtedly\nif I had any authority over them, they would have delivered me all this\ntime out of this miserable condition I am in: certainly I ought to look\nupon all this as a dream. It is true, I commanded the judge of the police\nto punish the iman and four old men his companions: I ordered Giafar the\ngrand vizier to carry my mother a thousand pieces of gold: and all my\ncommands were executed. All these things are obstacles to my believing it\na dream; but yet there are so many things that I cannot comprehend, nor\never shall, that I will put my trust in God, who knows all things.\n\nAbon Hassan was taken up with these thoughts and sentiments, when his\nmother came to see him, who found him so much altered and changed from\nwhat he had been, that she let fall a torrent of tears; in the midst of\nwhich she saluted him as she used to do, and he returned her salute,\nwhich he had never done before while he had been in the hospital. This\ncivility she looked upon to be a good sign. Well, son, said she, how do\nyou do, and how do you find yourself? Have you renounced all those whims\nand fancies which some cursed demon had put into your head? Indeed,\nmother, replied Abon Hassan, very rationally and calmly, I acknowledge my\nerror, and beg of you to forgive the execrable crime which I have been\nguilty of towards you, and which I detest. I ask pardon also of my\nneighbours whom I have abused. I have been deceived by a dream; but by so\nextraordinary a one, and so like to truth, that any other person, to whom\nsuch a thing might have happened, would have been guilty of as great\nextravagances: and I am at this instant so much perplexed about it, that\nI can hardly persuade myself but that it was matter of fact. But whatever\nit was, I do and always will look upon it as a dream and illusion. I am\nconvinced that I am not that shadow of a caliph and commander of the\nfaithful, but Abon Hassan, your son; and shall never forget that fatal\nday which covered me with shame and confusion; but honour and respect you\nall my life as I ought.\n\nAt these sensible words, the mother of Abon Hassan changed the tears of\nher sorrow and affliction into those of joy, to find her son so well\nrecovered. My dear child, said she, transported with pleasure, my\nsatisfaction and comfort is inexpressible, to hear you talk so\nreasonably, and gives me as much joy as if I had brought you into the\nworld a second time. But I must observe one thing in this adventure,\nwhich you may not have taken notice of: the stranger that you brought\nhome one night to sup with you, went away without shutting the\nchamber-door after him as you desired him; which I believe gave some\ndemon an opportunity to enter, and put you into that horrible illusion\nyou were in: and therefore, my son, you ought to return God thanks for\nyour deliverance, and beseech him to keep you out of the snares of the\nevil spirit.\n\nYou have found out the source of my misfortunes, answered Abon Hassan; it\nwas that very night I had this dream, which turned my brain. I bade the\nmerchant expressly to shut the door after him; and now I find he did not\ndo it. I am persuaded, as well as you, some devil came in, and filled my\nhead full of these fancies. For they at Moussel are not so well convinced\nthat the devil is the cause of troublesome dreams, as we are at Bagdad.\nBut since, mother, you see I am so well recovered, for God\u2019s sake get me\nout of this hellish place. The mother, glad to find her son so well cured\nof his foolish imagination of being caliph, went immediately to the\nkeeper, and assuring him that he was very sensible and well, he came and\nexamined him, and afterwards gave him his liberty.\n\nWhen Abon Hassan came home, he staid within doors some days, to comfort\nhimself by better food and nourishment than what he had at the hospital.\nBut when he had recovered his strength, and refreshed himself after his\nharsh treatment, he began to be weary with spending his evenings alone,\nand so entered again upon the same way of living as before; which was to\nprovide enough every day to regale a stranger at night.\n\nThe day on which Abon Hassan renewed this custom, happened to be the\nfirst day of the month, which was the day that the caliph always sets\napart to go disguised through the town, to observe what irregularities\nwere committed in the government of the city. Towards the evening he went\nto the bridge, and set himself on a bench which was fixed to the parapet;\nwhere, looking about him, he perceived the caliph disguised again like a\nMoussel merchant, and followed by the same slave: and, persuaded that all\nhis misfortunes were owing to the caliph\u2019s leaving his door open, whom he\ntook for a merchant, he swooned at the sight of him. God preserve me,\nsaid he to himself; if I am not deceived, there is the magician again\nthat enchanted me! and thereupon got up, and looked over the parapet into\nthe river, that he might not see him.\n\nThe caliph, who had a mind to carry on his joke farther, had taken a\ngreat deal of care to inform himself of all that had happened when Abon\nHassan waked at home, and conceived a great pleasure at the relation\ngiven him, especially at his being sent to a mad-house. But that monarch\nwas both just and generous, and had taken a great liking to Abon Hassan:\nhe designed, after he had carried on this scene, to take him into his\npalace; and to pursue this project, he had dressed himself again like a\nmerchant of Moussel. He perceived Abon Hassan at the same time that he\nsaw him, and presently guessed by his actions that he was angry with him,\nand wanted to shun him. This made him walk close to the parapet Abon\nHassan leaned over; and when he came nigh him, he put his head over to\nlook him in the face. Ah, brother Abon Hassan, said he, is it you? give\nme leave to embrace you. Not I, replied Abon Hassan roughly, without\nlooking at the pretended Moussel merchant: I will not embrace you; I have\nnothing to say to you; go along.\n\nWhat! answered the caliph, do you not know me? Do you not remember the\nevening we spent together at your house this day month, where you did me\nthe honour to treat me very generously? No, replied Abon Hassan, I do not\nknow you, nor what you talk about: go, I say again, about your business.\n\nThe caliph was not to be dashed with this rude behaviour of Abon Hassan.\nHe knew very well the law he had imposed on himself, never to have any\ncommerce again with a stranger he had once entertained; but though Abon\nHassan had declared so much to him, he pretended to be ignorant of it. I\ncannot believe, said he, but you must know me again; it is not possible\nthat you should have forgot me in so short a time. Certainly some\nmisfortune has befallen you, which gives you this aversion. However, you\nought to remember that I show my acknowledgment by my good wishes; and\nthat I have offered you my interest, which is not despicable, in an\naffair which you had very much at heart.\n\nI do not know, replied Abon Hassan, what your interest may be, and I have\nno desire to make use of it; but I am sensible the utmost of your wishes\nwas to make me mad. In God\u2019s name, I say once more, go your way, and\ntrouble me no more.\n\nAh! brother Abon Hassan, replied the caliph, embracing him, I do not\nintend to part with you in this manner, since I have had the good fortune\nto meet with you a second time: you must exercise the same hospitality\ntowards me again that you showed me a month ago, when I had the honour to\ndrink with you.\n\nI have protested against it, said Abon Hassan, and have so much power\nover myself as not to receive such a man as you. You know the proverb,\nTake up your drum and be gone: make the application to yourself. God be\nwith you; you have been the cause of my misfortune, and I will not\nventure myself with you again. My good friend Abon Hassan, said the\ncaliph, embracing him again, I beg of you not to treat me after this\ninjurious manner, but be better persuaded of my friendship. Do me the\nfavour to tell me what has happened to you; for I assure you, I wish you\nwell, and would be glad of an opportunity to make you amends for the\ntrouble I have caused you, if it has been actually my fault. Abon Hassan\nyielded to the pressing instances of the caliph, and bade him sit down by\nhim. Your incredulity and importunity have tired my patience; and what I\nam going to tell you, will show you that I do not accuse you wrongfully.\n\nThe caliph sat down by Abon Hassan, while he told him all that happened\nto him, from his waking in the palace to his waking again in his own\nhouse, all as a mere dream, with all the circumstances, which the caliph\nknew as well as himself, and which renewed his pleasure. He exaggerated\nafterwards upon the impression that dream of being caliph made upon him,\nwhich, he said, threw him into such extravagances, that he was carried to\nthe mad-house, and used very barbarously. But, said he, what will\nsurprise you, and what you little think of, is, that it was altogether\nyour fault that these things fell out: for, if you remember, I desired\nyou to shut the door after you, which you neglected; and some devil\nfinding it open, put this dream into my head, which, though it was very\nagreeable, was the cause of the misfortune I complain of; therefore you,\nfor your negligence, are answerable for the horrid and detestable crime I\nwas guilty of, in lifting my hand against my mother, whom I might have\nkilled, and committed parricide, because she said I was her son, and she\nwould not acknowledge me for the commander of the faithful: besides, I\nblush when I think of it, and that all my neighbours were witnesses of my\nfolly. In short, Abon Hassan complained of his misfortunes with great\nheat and vehemence, and did not forget the least circumstance; which\npleased the caliph to find he had succeeded so well, who could not help\nbursting out a-laughing at the simplicity wherewith he related them.\n\nAbon Hassan, who thought that his story should rather move compassion,\nand that every one ought to be as much concerned at it as himself, very\nmuch resented the pretended Moussel merchant\u2019s laughter. What! said he,\ndo you make a jest of me, to laugh in my face, or do you believe that I\ndo not speak seriously? If you want proofs of what I advance, look and\nsee whether or no I tell you the truth: with that, stooping down, and\nbaring his shoulders, he showed the caliph the strokes and weals the\nbull\u2019s pizzle had made.\n\nThe caliph could not behold these objects of horror without pitying poor\nAbon Hassan, and being sorry for carrying the jest so far. Come, rise,\ndear brother, said he, hugging Abon Hassan friendly in his arms; let me\ngo and enjoy the happiness of being merry with you to-night; and\nto-morrow, if it please God, all things will go well.\n\nAbon Hassan, notwithstanding his resolution and oath, could not resist\nthe caliph\u2019s caresses. I will consent, said he to the pretended merchant,\nif you will swear to shut my door after you, that no demon may come in to\ndistract my brain again. The caliph promised that he would; upon which\nthey both got up, and, followed by the caliph\u2019s slave, reached Abon\nHassan\u2019s house by the time it was dark.\n\nAs soon as Abon Hassan entered the doors, he called for candles, and\ndesired his guest to sit down upon a sofa, and then placed himself by\nhim. A little time after, supper was brought up, and they both fell to\nwithout ceremony: afterwards there came up a small dessert of fruit,\nwine, and glasses. Abon Hassan first filled out his glass, and then the\ncaliph\u2019s; and after they had drunk some time, and talked of indifferent\nmatters, the caliph perceiving that his host grew warm with liquor, began\nto talk of love, and asked him if he had never been sensible of that\npassion.\n\nBrother, replied Abon Hassan familiarly, I never looked upon love or\nmarriage but as bondage or slavery, to which I was always unwilling to\nsubmit; and must own to you that I never loved any thing but good cheer\nand good wine; in short, to divert and entertain myself agreeably with my\nfriends. But yet I do not tell you that I am so indifferent for marriage,\nor incapable of an inclination, if I could meet with a woman of such\nbeauty and sweetness of temper as those I saw in my dream that fatal\nnight I first saw you, and received you into my house, and you, to my\nmisfortune, left my door open, who would pass the whole night with me,\ndrinking, and singing, and playing on some instrument, and who would\nstudy to please and divert me: I believe, on the contrary, I should\nchange all my indifference to a perfect attachment to such a person, and\nI believe should live very happily with her. But where is such a woman to\nbe found, but in the caliph\u2019s palace, or in those of the grand vizier, or\nsome other great lords of the court, who want no money? I choose rather\nto stick close to my bottle, which is a pleasure much cheaper, and which\nI can enjoy as well as they. In saying, these words, he filled out his\nown and the caliph\u2019s glass, and said, Come, take your glass, and let us\npursue this charming pleasure.\n\nWhen they had drunk off their wine, It is a great pity, said the caliph,\nthat so gallant a man as you, who owns himself not insensible of love,\nshould lead so solitary a life. I prefer the easy quiet life I live,\nreplied Abon Hassan, before the company of a wife, whose beauty might not\nplease, and who, besides, might create me a great deal of trouble by her\nimperfections, and perhaps ill humour. This subject lasted a long time;\nand the caliph, seeing Abon Hassan had drunk up to the pitch he wanted to\nhave him, said, Let me alone; since you have so good a taste, I warrant\nyou I will find you one that shall please you: and then taking Abon\nHassan\u2019s glass, and putting a pinch of the same powder into it again,\nfilled him up a bumper, and presenting it to him, said, Come, let us\ndrink first the fair lady\u2019s health who is to make you happy.\n\nAbon Hassan took the glass laughing, and shaking his head, said, Come, I\nwill drink the lady\u2019s health you promised me, though I am very well\ncontented as I am, and do not rely on your promise; but cannot be guilty\nof so great a piece of incivility, as to disoblige a guest of so much\nmerit, in such a trifling matter. But as soon as he had drunk off his\nliquor, he was seized with as deep a sleep as before; and the caliph\nordered the same slave to take him and carry him to the palace, and in\nthe mean time shut the door after him, as he had promised, and followed\nhim.\n\nWhen they arrived at the palace, the caliph ordered Abon Hassan to be\nlaid on a sofa, in the fourth hall, from whence he was carried home: but\nfirst he bade them put him in the same habit which he acted the caliph\nin. After that, he charged all the eunuchs; officers, ladies, and\nmusicians, who were in the hall when he drank the last glass of wine, to\nbe there by daybreak, and to take care to act their parts well; and then\nwent to bed, charging Mesrour to wake him before they went into the hall,\nthat he might hide himself in the closet as before.\n\nMesrour wakened the caliph at the hour appointed; who immediately rose,\nand went to the hall where Abon Hassan was laid fast asleep; and when he\nhad placed himself in his closet, Mesrour and the other officers and\nladies placed themselves about the sofa, so that the caliph might see\nwhat passed.\n\nThings being thus disposed, and the caliph\u2019s powder having had its\neffect, Abon Hassan began to stir, and the music to play a very agreeable\nconcert. Abon Hassan was in a great surprise to hear that charming\nharmony; but when he opened his eyes, and saw the ladies and officers\nabout him, and which he thought he knew again, his amazement was\nredoubled. The hall that he was in seemed to be the same he dreamed of;\nand he observed the same branches, and the same furniture and ornaments.\n\nWhen the concert was ended, he bit his finger and cried loud enough for\nthe caliph to hear him, Alas! I am fallen again into the same dream and\nillusion that happened to me a month ago, and must expect again the\nbull\u2019s pizzle and mad-house. Almighty God, added he, I commit myself into\nthe hands of thy divine providence. He was a wicked man that I\nentertained at my house last night, who has been the cause of this\nillusion, and the miserable hardships I must undergo. The base wretch\nswore to shut the door after him, and he did not do it; and the devil\ncame in, and filled my head full of this wicked dream of being commander\nof the faithful, and other phantoms, which bewitch my eyes. May thou be\nconfounded, Satan, and crushed under some mountain!\n\nAfter these words, Abon Hassan closed his eyes, and remained some time\nthoughtful, and very much perplexed; then opening them again, and looking\nabout him, cried out a second time, Great God! I commit myself into the\nhands of thy providence; preserve me from the temptation of Satan. Then\nshutting them again, he said, All that I know is, I will go and sleep\ntill Satan leaves me, and returns as he came; when one of the ladies\napproached, and sitting down on a sofa by him, said to him, Commander of\nthe Faithful, I beg of your majesty to forgive me for taking the liberty\nto tell you not to go to sleep; day appears, and it is time to rise. Be\ngone, Satan! answered Abon Hassan, raising his voice: but looking upon\nthe lady, he said, Is it I you call the commander of the faithful?\nCertainly you take me for somebody else. It is to your majesty I give\nthat title, replied the lady, to whom it belongs, as you are sovereign of\nthe world and the Mussulmans, and I am your most humble slave.\nUndoubtedly your majesty, added she, pretends to have forgot yourself, or\nthis is the effect of some troublesome dream; but if you would but open\nyour eyes, the mists which may disturb your imagination will soon be\ndispelled, and you will find yourself in your own palace, surrounded by\nyour officers and slaves, who all wait your commands: and that your\nmajesty may not be surprised to find yourself in this hall, and not in\nbed, I beg leave to tell you, that you fell so suddenly asleep last\nnight, that we were unwilling to wake you, to conduct you to your own\nchamber, but laid you carefully upon this sofa. In short, she urged so\nmany things to him that were so very probable, that at last he sat upon\nhis breech, and knew all the ladies again. Then she who spoke first,\nassuming the discourse, said, Commander of the Faithful, and the\nprophet\u2019s vicar on earth, be not displeased if I acquaint your majesty\nonce more, that it is time to rise, for day appears.\n\nYou are very troublesome and importunate, replied Abon Hassan, rubbing\nhis eyes: I am not the commander of the faithful, but Abon Hassan; and\nyou shall not persuade me otherwise. We do not know that Abon Hassan your\nmajesty speaks of, answered the lady; but know you to be the commander of\nthe believers.\n\nAbon Hassan looking about, and finding himself in the same hall,\nattributed all he saw and heard to be such a dream as he had before, and\nfeared very much the dreadful consequences. Heaven have mercy on me! said\nhe, lifting up his hands and eyes, like a man who knew not where he was;\nafter what I have seen, there is no dispute but that devil who came into\nmy chamber possesses me, and fills my imagination full of all these\nvisions.\n\nThe caliph, who saw him all the time, and heard these exclamations,\nalmost killed himself with laughing; and had much ado to forbear bursting\nout into so loud a laughter, that the false caliph must have heard him.\n\nAfterwards Abon Hassan laid himself down again, and shutting his eyes,\nthe same lady said again, Since your majesty does not rise, after we\nhave, according to our duty, told you it was day, and the dispatch of\nbusiness requires your presence, we shall use the liberty you give us in\nsuch like cases. Then taking him by one arm, and calling to one of the\nother ladies to do the same by the other, they lifted him up, and carried\nhim into the middle of the hall, where they set him on his breech, and\nall taking hands, danced round him while the music played.\n\nAbon Hassan was in an inexpressible perplexity of mind, and said, What!\nam I indeed caliph, and commander of the faithful? and in the uncertainty\nhe was in, would have said something more, but the music was so loud that\nhe could not be heard. At last he made a sign to two of the ladies who\nwere dancing, that he wanted to speak with them; upon which they forbore,\nand went to him. Do not lie, now, said he, but tell me truly who I am.\n\nCommander of the Faithful, replied one of the ladies, your majesty would\neither surprise us by asking this question, or else you must have had\nsome very extraordinary dream to-night; which may very well be,\nconsidering that your majesty has slept longer to-night than ordinary:\nhowever, if you will give me leave, I will refresh your memory with what\npassed yesterday. Then she told him how he went to the council, punished\nthe iman and the four old men, and sent a present by his grand vizier, of\na thousand pieces of gold, to the mother of one Abon Hassan: after that,\ncontinued she, your majesty dined in the three halls, and, in the fourth,\ndid us the honour to make us sit down by you, to hear our songs, and\nreceive wine from our hands, till your majesty fell so fast asleep, that\nyou never awaked, contrary to custom, before day. All your slaves and\nofficers can confirm what I say; and it is now time you should go to\nprayers.\n\nVery well, replied Abon Hassan, shaking his head, you would have me\nbelieve all this but I can tell you, you are all fools or mad; and that\nis a great pity, for you are very handsome: for I can tell you, that\nsince I saw you, I have been at home, where I used my mother so ill, that\nthey sent me to a mad-house, and kept me three weeks, and beat me every\nday with a bull\u2019s pizzle; and yet you would make me believe all this to\nbe a dream. Commander of the Faithful answered the lady, we are all ready\nto swear by what your majesty holds most dear, that all you tell is a\ndream; for you never stirred out of this hall since yesterday, but slept\nhere all night long.\n\nThe confidence with which the lady assured Abon Hassan that all she said\nwas truth, and that he had never been out of the hall since that time,\nmade him not to know what to believe, but bewildered his senses. O\nHeaven! said he to himself, am I Abon Hassan, or the commander of the\nfaithful? Almighty God, enlighten my understanding, and inform me of the\ntruth. Then he bared his shoulders, and showed the ladies the livid\nweals. Look, and judge, said he, whether these strokes could come to me\nin a dream, or when I was asleep. For my part, I can affirm that they\nwere real blows; for I feel the smart of them yet, and that is a\ntestimonial there is no room to doubt of. Now, if I received these\nstrokes in my sleep, it is the most surprising and extraordinary thing in\nthe world, and what I cannot understand.\n\nIn this uncertainty, Abon Hassan called to one of the officers that stood\nround him: Come hither, said he, and bite the tip of my ear, that I may\nknow whether I am asleep or awake. The officer obeyed him, and bit so\nhard that he made him cry out horridly: the music struck up at the same\ntime, and the officers and ladies all began to dance, and skip about Abon\nHassan, and made such a noise, that he was in a perfect enthusiasm, and\nplayed a thousand merry tricks. He tore off his caliph\u2019s habit, threw off\nhis turban, and jumped up in his shirt and drawers, and taking hold of\ntwo of the ladies\u2019 hands, fell a-dancing and singing, and jumping and\ncutting capers, that the caliph could not contain himself, but burst into\nso violent a laughter at this sudden pleasantry of Abon Hassan\u2019s, that he\nfell backwards, and made a greater noise than the musicians and all of\nthem together, and lay in that condition for some time. At last he got up\nagain, and putting out his head, cried out, Abon Hassan, Abon Hassan,\nwhat! have you a mind to kill me with laughing?\n\nAs soon as the caliph\u2019s voice was heard, every body was silent, and Abon\nHassan among the rest; who, turning his head to see from whence the voice\ncame, knew the caliph and the Moussel merchant, but was not in the least\ndashed; but, on the contrary, found that he was awake, and all that had\nhappened to him was matter of fact, and not a dream. He entered into the\ncaliph\u2019s pleasantry and intentions: Ha! ha! said he, looking at him with\na good assurance, you are a merchant of Moussel, and complain that I\nwould kill you, who have been the occasion of my using my mother so ill,\nand being sent to a mad-house. It was you who treated the iman and the\nfour scheiks in the manner they were used, and not I; I wash my hands of\nit. It was you who have been the cause of all my disorders: in short, you\nare the aggressor, and I the injured person.\n\nIndeed you are in the right of it, Abon Hassan, answered the caliph,\nlaughing all the while; but to comfort thee, and make thee amends for all\nthy troubles, I call Heaven to witness, I am ready and willing to make\nthee what reparation thou pleasest to ask. After these words, he came out\nof the closet into the hall, and ordered one of his most magnificent\nhabits to be brought, and commanded the ladies to dress Abon Hassan in\nit; and when they had done so, he said, embracing him, Thou art my\nbrother; ask what thou wilt, and thou shalt have it.\n\nCommander of the Faithful, replied Abon Hassan, I beg of your majesty to\ndo me the favour to tell me what you did to disturb my brain in that\nmanner, and what was your design; for that is a thing of the greatest\nimportance for me to know, that I may perfectly recover my senses.\n\nThe caliph promised to give him that satisfaction, and said, First you\nought to know, that I often disguise myself, and particularly at night,\nto observe what irregularities are committed in Bagdad; besides, I set\napart the first day of every month to make a tour about it, sometimes on\none side and sometimes on another, but always return by the bridge. That\nevening that you invited me to supper, I had been taking my rounds; and\nin our discourse you told me, that the only thing you wished for was to\nbe caliph for four and twenty hours, to punish the iman of your mosque\nand his four counsellors. I fancied that this desire of thine would\nafford me a great deal of diversion, and thought immediately how I might\nprocure thee that satisfaction. I had about me a certain powder, which\nthrows immediately the person that takes it into a sound sleep for such a\ntime. I put a dose of it, without being perceived by thee, into the last\nglass I presented to thee; upon which you fell fast asleep, and I ordered\nmy slave to carry you to my palace, and came away without shutting the\ndoor. I have no occasion to repeat what happened at my palace when you\nwaked: but after you had been regaled all day, one of the slaves, by my\norder, put another dose of the same powder at night into a glass she gave\nyou; you fell asleep as before, and the same slave carried you home, and\nleft the door open. You told me all that happened to you afterwards. I\nnever imagined that you could have suffered so much as you have done. But\nas I have a great regard for you, I will make you amends; and that you\nmay have no cause to remember your ill treatment, think of what would\nplease you, and ask me boldly for it.\n\nCommander of the Faithful, replied Abon Hassan, how great soever my\ntortures may have been, they were all blotted out of my remembrance, as\nsoon as I understood my sovereign lord had any share in them, and doubt\nnot in the least of your majesty\u2019s bounty; but as interest had never any\nsway over me, and I have the liberty to ask a favour, I beg that it may\nbe that of having access to your person, to have the happiness of\nadmiring, all my life-time, your grandeur.\n\nThis last proof of Abon Hassan\u2019s generosity completed the esteem the\ncaliph had entertained for him. I am mightily pleased with thy request,\nsaid the caliph, and grant thee free access to my person at all times and\nall hours. In short, he assigned him an apartment in the palace; and, in\nregard to his pension, told him, that he would not have him to have any\nthing to do with his treasurer, but to come always to him for an order\nupon him. Abon Hassan made a low bow, and the caliph left him to go to\ncouncil.\n\nAbon Hassan made use of this time to go and inform his mother of his good\nfortune, and what had happened, which, he told her, was not a dream; for\nthat he had actually been caliph, and had acted as such, and received all\nthe honours; and that she had no reason to doubt of it, since he had it\nconfirmed, by the caliph himself.\n\nIt was not long before this new story of Abon Hassan was spread all about\nBagdad, and was carried into all the provinces both far and near, and not\none single circumstance scarce omitted.\n\nThe new favourite Abon Hassan was always with the caliph; for as he was a\nman of a pleasant temper, and created mirth by all his words and actions,\nthe caliph could not live without him, and often carried him along with\nhim to see his spouse Zobeide, to whom he told his story, and who was\nmightily pleased with him, and observed that every time he came with the\ncaliph he had his eyes always fixed upon one of her slaves, called\nNouz-hatoul-aonadat, (which is to say, Renewed Pleasure,) and resolved to\ntell the caliph of it. Commander of the Faithful, said that princess one\nday, you do not observe so well as I, that every time Abon Hassan attends\nyou in your visits to me, he never keeps his eyes off\nNouz-hatoul-aonadat, and makes her blush, which is almost a certain sign\nthat she entertains no aversion for him. If you approve of it, we will\nmake a match between them.\n\nMadam, replied the caliph, you put me in mind of a thing which I ought to\nhave done before now. I know Abon Hassan\u2019s taste of marriage from\nhimself, and have always promised him a wife that should please him. I am\nglad you mentioned it, for I know not how I came to forget it. But it is\nbetter that Abon Hassan has followed his own inclination, and chose for\nhimself; and if Nouz-hatoul-aonadat is not averse to it, we ought not to\nhesitate upon their marriage; and since they are both present, let them\ndeclare that they give consent.\n\nAbon Hassan threw himself at the caliph\u2019s and Zobeide\u2019s feet, to show the\nsense he had of their bounty; and, rising up, said, I cannot receive a\nwife from better hands, but dare not hope that Nouz-hatoul-aonadat will\ngive me hers. After these words, he looked upon the princess\u2019s slave, who\nshowed, by her respectful silence, and the sudden blush that rose in her\ncheeks, that she was disposed to obey the caliph and her mistress\nZobeide.\n\nThe marriage was solemnized, and the nuptials celebrated in the palace,\nwith great rejoicings, which lasted several days. Zobeide, in respect to\nthe caliph, made her slave considerable presents, and the caliph did the\nsame to Abon Hassan. The bride was conducted to the apartment the caliph\nhad assigned Abon Hassan, who waited for her with all the impatience of a\nbridegroom, and received her with the sounding of trumpets and all sorts\nof instruments, which played in concert, and made the air echo again\ntheir sweet and harmonious notes.\n\nAfter these feasts and rejoicings, which lasted several days, the\nnew-married couple were left to pursue their loves peaceably. Abon Hassan\nand his spouse were charmed with each other, and lived together in\nperfect union, and seldom were asunder, but when either he paid his\nrespects to the caliph, or she to Zobeide. Indeed Nouz-hatoul-aonadat was\nendued with all the qualifications capable of gaining Abon Hassan\u2019s love\nand attachment, and was just such a wife as he desired; therefore they\ncould want nothing to render their lives agreeable. They always ate the\nnicest and choicest rarities in season, and had the best meats tossed up\nin fricasees and ragouts, &c. by an excellent cook, who took upon him to\nprovide every thing. Their beaufet was always stored with exquisite\nwines. At dinner they enjoyed themselves in this manner, and afterwards\nentertained each other with some pleasantry or other: and in the\nevenings, which they consecrated to mirth, they had generally some slight\nrepast of dried sweetmeats, choice fruits, and other light meats, and\ninvited each other by songs and catches to drink, and sometimes played to\ntheir voices on a lute, or other instruments which they could touch.\n\nAbon Hassan and Nouz-hatoul-aonadat lived a long time in this manner,\nwhen the caterer, who disbursed the money for these expenses, put them in\nmind that he had gone his length, and parted with all his money; which\nthey found, but too late, to be so considerable a sum, that all the\npresents that the caliph and the princess Zobeide had given them at their\nmarriage, were but just enough to pay him. This made them reflect on what\nwas past, and which at that time they could not remedy. However, they\nagreed to pay the cook; and sent for him, and paid him all they owed him,\nwithout showing the least trouble.\n\nThe caterer went away very well pleased to receive so large a sum of\nmoney, though Abon Hassan and his wife were not so over-well satisfied\nwith seeing the bottom of their purse, but remained a long time silent\nand very much embarrassed, to find themselves reduced to that condition\nthe first year of their marriage. Abon Hassan remembered very well that\nthe caliph, when he took him into the palace, promised never to let him\nwant any thing. But when he considered how prodigal he had been of his\nmoney in so short a time, he was unwilling to expose himself to the shame\nof telling the caliph the ill use he had made of what he had given him,\nand that he wanted more. Besides, he had made over his patrimony to his\nmother, as soon as the caliph had received him nigh his person; and was\nafraid to go to her, lest she should find that he had returned to the\nsame extravagance he had been guilty of after his father\u2019s death. His\nwife, on the other hand, looked upon Zobeide\u2019s generosity, and the\nliberty she had given her to marry, as more than a sufficient recompense\nfor her service, and thought she could not ask any more.\n\nAbon Hassan at last broke silence, and looking upon his wife, said, I see\nyou are in the same embarrassment as myself, and am thinking what we must\ndo in this unhappy juncture. I do not know what your sentiments may be;\nbut mine are, let what will happen, not to retrench our expenses in the\nleast; and, I believe you will come into my opinion: the point is, how to\nsupport them without asking the caliph or Zobeide; and I fancy I have\nthought on the means: but we must both assist each other.\n\nThis discourse of Abon Hassan\u2019s very much pleased his wife, and gave her\ngreat hopes. I was thinking so as well as you, said she; but durst not\nexplain my thoughts, because I did not know how to help ourselves; and\nmust confess, that what you tell me gives me a great deal of pleasure.\nBut since you say you have found out a way, and my assistance is\nnecessary, you need but to tell me, and I will do all that lies in my\npower.\n\nI believe, replied Abon Hassan, that you will not fail in this affair,\nwhich concerns us both; and therefore I must tell you this want of money\nhas made me think of a trick we will put upon the caliph and Zobeide, and\nat which, I am sure, they will both be pleased, and be diverted with the\ncheat; which is, you and I will both die. Not I indeed, interrupted\nNouz-hatoul-aonadat; you may die by yourself, if you will. I am not so\nweary of this life; and whether you are pleased or not, will not die so\nsoon. If you have nothing else to propose than that, you may do it by\nyourself; for I shall not meddle with it.\n\nYou are so quick and hasty, replied Abon Hassan, that you will not give\nme time to explain my meaning: have but a little patience, and you shall\nfind that you will be ready enough; for sure you did not think I meant a\nreal death. Well, said his wife, if it is but sham death you design, I am\nat your service, and you may depend on my zeal: but I must tell you\ntruly, I am very unwilling to die as I apprehended you meant at first.\n\nBe but easy a little, said Abon Hassan, and I will tell you what I\npropose. I will feign myself dead, and you shall lay me out on a white\nsheet, in the middle of my chamber, with my feet towards Mecca, and my\nturban upon my face, just ready to be buried. When you have done so, you\nmust cry and take on, as is usual in such cases, and tear your clothes,\nand with your hair loose about your ears, go to Zobeide. The princess\nwill ask you the cause of your grief; and when you have told her, with\nwords intermixed with sighs, she will pity you, and give you some money\nto defray the expense of my funeral, and a piece of gold brocade, to\ncover my body with, that my interment may be the more magnificent, and to\nmake you a habit in the room of that you had torn; and as soon as you\nreturn with the money and the brocade, I will get up and lay you in my\nplace, and go and act the same part with the caliph as you have done with\nZobeide; and I dare say the caliph will be as generous to me as Zobeide\nwill be to you.\n\nNouz-hatoul-aonadat liked this project very well, and said to Abon\nHassan, Come, lose no time; strip to your shirt and breeches, while I\nprepare a sheet. Abon Hassan did as his wife bade him, and laid himself\nall along on his back, with his feet towards Mecca, on the sheet which\nhis wife spread on the carpet, just in the middle of the room. As soon as\nhe had crossed his arms, his wife wrapped him up, and put a fine piece of\nmuslin and his turban upon his face. After this, she pulled her hair over\nher face, and with a dismal crying and lamentation, ran across the court\nof Zobeide\u2019s apartment; who, hearing the voice of a person crying very\nloud, commanded some of her women to see who it was, who returned, and\ntold her that it was Nouz-hatoul-aonadat, who was coming in a deplorable\ncondition.\n\nThe princess, impatient to know what had happened to her, rose up\nimmediately, and went to meet her at the door of the antechamber.\nNouz-hatoul-aonadat played her part excellently well. As soon as she saw\nZobeide, she redoubled her cries, tore her hair off by handfuls, beat her\nface and breast, and threw herself at her feet, bathing them with her\ntears.\n\nZobeide, amazed to see her slave in so extraordinary an affliction, asked\nher, what misfortune had happened to her. But, instead of answering, she\ncontinued sighing and sobbing; and at last, feigning to strive to check\nherself, said, with words intermixed with sighs, Alas! my most honoured\nlady and mistress, what greater misfortune could have befallen me than\nthis, which obliges me to throw myself at your highness\u2019s feet? May God\nprolong your days, my most respectable princess, in perfect health, and\ngrant you many happy years. Abon Hassan! poor Abon Hassan! whom you\nhonoured with your esteem, and gave me for a husband, is no more!\n\nThen Nouz-hatoul-aonadat redoubled her tears and sighs, and threw herself\nagain at the princess\u2019s feet. Zobeide was extremely surprised at this\nnews. Abon Hassan dead! cried she, that agreeable pleasant man! indeed I\ndid not in the least expect his death so soon; he seemed to promise a\nlong life, and well deserved one. Then she burst out also into tears, as\ndid all her women, who had been often witnesses of Abon Hassan\u2019s\npleasantries, when the caliph brought him to see the princess Zobeide,\nand continued a long time bewailing the loss of him. At last Zobeide\nbroke silence, and ordered one of her slaves to go to her treasure, and\nfetch a hundred pieces of gold, and a piece of rich brocade.\n\nThe slave returned soon with a purse and piece of brocade, which, by\nZobeide\u2019s order, she put into Nouz-hatoul-aonadat\u2019s hand; who threw\nherself again at the princess\u2019s feet, and thanked her with a great deal\nof satisfaction, to think she had succeeded so well. Go, said Zobeide,\nmake use of that brocade to cover the corpse of thy husband, and with\nthat money bury him handsomely, and as he ought to be. Moderate the\ntransports of thy affliction: I will take care of thee.\n\nAs soon as Nouz-hatoul-aonadat got out of the princess\u2019s presence, she\ndried up her tears, and returned with joy to Abon Hassan, to give him an\naccount of her good success. When she came into her own apartment, and\nsaw her husband still stretched out in the middle of the floor, she ran\nto him laughing, and bade him rise, and see the fruits of his project.\nUpon which he arose, and rejoiced with his wife at the sight of the purse\nand brocade, who, for her part, could, not contain herself. Come,\nhusband, said she laughing, let me act the dead part, and see if you can\nmanage the caliph as well as I have done Zobeide.\n\nThis is the temper of all women, replied Abon Hassan, who, we may well\nsay, have always the vanity to believe they can do things better than\nmen, though, at the same time, what they do is by their advice. It would\nbe odd indeed, if I, who laid this plot myself, could not carry it on\nlikewise. But let us lose no time in idle discourse: lie down in my\nplace, and see if I do not come off with as much applause.\n\nAbon Hassan wrapped up his wife as she had done him; and with his turban\nundone, and set awry on his head, and like a man in the greatest\naffliction imaginable, he ran to the caliph, who was holding a private\ncouncil with the grand vizier Giafar and some other viziers, and he\nhaving free access wheresoever he was, went with his handkerchief before\nhis eyes, to hide the feigned tears which trickled down his cheeks, and\nstriking his breast with the other, expressed an extraordinary grief.\n\nThe caliph, who was ever used to see Abon Hassan gay and merry, was very\nmuch surprised to behold him in that sorrowful state, and asked him the\ncause of his grief. Commander of the Faithful, answered Abon Hassan, with\nrepeated sighings and sobbings, may God preserve your majesty on the\nthrone, which you fill so gloriously! Alas! Nouz-hatoul-aonadat, whom you\nin your bounty gave me for a wife, is \u2014\u2014. At this exclamation, Abon\nHassan pretended to have his heart so full that he could not utter one\nsyllable more, but poured forth a flood of tears.\n\nThe caliph, who presently understood that Abon Hassan came to tell him of\nthe death of his wife, seemed very much concerned, and said to him, God\ncomfort thee; she was a good slave, and we gave her to thee with an\nintention to make thee happy: she deserved a longer life. Then the tears\nran down his face, so that he was obliged to pull out his handkerchief to\nwipe them off. In short, Abon Hassan dissembled so well, that the caliph,\nwho did not in the least doubt of his sincerity, ordered his treasurer,\nwho was then present, to give Abon Hassan a purse of a hundred pieces of\ngold, and a piece of brocade. Abon Hassan immediately cast himself at the\ncaliph\u2019s feet, and thanked him for his present. Follow the treasurer,\nsaid that monarch; throw the brocade over the corpse, and with the money\nshow the last testimony of thy love for thy wife.\n\nAbon Hassan made no reply to these obliging words of the caliph, but\nretired with a low bow, and followed the treasurer; and as soon as he had\ngot the purse and piece of brocade, went home, very well pleased with\nhaving found out so quick and ready a way of supplying his necessity,\nwhich had given him some trouble.\n\nNouz-hatoul-aonadat, weary with lying so long in that posture, never\nwaited till Abon Hassan bade her rise; but as soon as she heard the door\nopen, got up and ran to her husband, and asked him if he had cheated the\ncaliph as well as she did Zobeide? You see, said he, showing her the\nstuff, and shaking the purse, that I can act a sorrowful husband as well\nas you can an afflicted wife. But for fear this trick of theirs should be\nattended with some ill consequences, he thought it would not be amiss to\ninstruct his wife with what might happen, that they might act in concert.\nFor, added he, the better we succeed in embarrassing the caliph and\nZobeide, the more they will be pleased at last, and perhaps may show\ntheir satisfaction by a greater liberality. And this last consideration\ninduced them to carry on this scene further.\n\nThe caliph, though he had a great deal of business to transact in\ncouncil, was nevertheless so impatient to go and condole with the\nprincess upon the death of her slave, that he rose up as soon as Abon\nHassan was gone, and put off the council to another day. Follow me, said\nhe to Mesrour, who always attended him wherever he went, and let us go\nand share with the princess the grief which the death of her slave\nNouz-hatoul-aonadat causes her.\n\nAccordingly, they went to Zobeide\u2019s apartment, whom the caliph found\nseated on a sofa, very much afflicted, and all in tears. Madam, said the\ncaliph, going up to her, it is necessary to tell you how much I partake\nwith you in your affliction; since you are not insensible that what gives\nyou pleasure or trouble, has the same effect on me. But we are all\nmortals, and must surrender up to God that life he gives us, when he\nrequires it. Nouz-hatoul-aonadat, your faithful slave, was endued with\nqualifications that deserved all your esteem, and I do not disapprove\nyour expressing it after her death; but consider, all your grief will not\nbring her to life again. Therefore, madam, if you love me, and would take\nmy advice, be comforted for this loss, and take care of a life which you\nknow is precious to me.\n\nIf the princess was charmed with these tender sentiments which the caliph\nexpressed in his compliments, she was much more amazed to hear of\nNouz-hatoul-aonadat\u2019s death. This news put her into so great a surprise,\nthat she was not able to return an answer for some time. At last,\nrecovering, she said, Commander of the Faithful, I am very sensible of\nall your tender sentiments; but cannot comprehend the news you tell me of\nthe death of my slave, who is in perfect health. My affliction is for the\ndeath of Abon Hassan, her husband, your favourite, whom you was so kind\nto let me know, who often diverted me very agreeably, and for whom I have\nas great a value as you yourself. But, sir, the little concern you show\nfor his death, and your so soon forgetting a man in whom you have often\ntold me you took a great deal of pleasure, amazes and surprises me very\nmuch; and this insensibility seems the greater, by your changing his\ndeath for that of my slave.\n\nThe caliph, who thought that he was perfectly well informed of the death\nof the slave, and had just reason to believe so, because he had both seen\nand heard Abon Hassan, fell a-laughing and shrugging up his shoulders, to\nhear Zobeide talk after this manner. Mesrour, said he, turning himself\nabout to that eunuch, what dost thou think of the princess\u2019s discourse?\nDo not women sometimes lose their senses? for, in short, thou hast heard\nand seen all as well as myself. Then turning about to Zobeide, Madam,\nsaid he, do not shed any more tears for Abon Hassan, for I can assure you\nhe is well; but rather bewail the death of your dear slave. It is not\nmany moments since her husband came all in tears, and the most\ninexpressible affliction, to tell me of the death of his wife. I gave him\na purse of a hundred pieces of gold, and a piece of brocade, to comfort\nhim, and bury her with; and Mesrour here, who was by, can tell you the\nsame.\n\nThe princess took this discourse of the caliph to be all a jest, and that\nhe had a mind to impose upon her credulity. Commander of the Faithful,\nreplied she, though you are used to banter, I must tell you this is not a\nproper time. What I tell you is very serious: I do not talk of my slave\u2019s\ndeath, but of Abon Hassan her husband\u2019s, whose fate I bewail, and so\nought you too. Madam, said the caliph, putting on a grave countenance, I\ntell you, without raillery, that you are deceived; Nouz-hatoul-aonadat is\ndead, and Abon Hassan is alive, and in perfect health.\n\nZobeide was very much piqued at this answer of the caliph. Commander of\nthe Faithful, replied she smartly, surely you would make me think that\nyou were mad; give me leave to repeat to you once more that it is Abon\nHassan who is dead, and that my slave Nouz-hatoul-aonadat is living; it\nis not an hour ago since she went from hence; she came here in so\ndisconsolate a state, that the sight of her was enough to have drawn\ntears from my eyes, if she had not told me her affliction. All my women,\nwho cried with me, can bear me witness, and tell you also, that I made\nher a present of a hundred pieces of gold, and a piece of brocade; and\nthe grief which you found me in was upon the death of her husband; and\njust that instant that you came in, I was going to send you a compliment\nof condolence.\n\nAt these words of Zobeide, the caliph cried out, in a fit of laughter,\nThis, madam, is a strange piece of obstinacy; but, continued he\nseriously, you may depend upon Nouz-hatoul-aonadat\u2019s being dead. I tell\nyou not, sir, replied Zobeide instantly; it is Abon Hassan that is dead,\nand you shall never make me believe otherwise.\n\nUpon this the caliph began to be angry, and set himself upon a sofa, some\ndistance from the princess, and, speaking to Mesrour, said, Go\nimmediately, and see which it is, and bring me word; for though I am\ncertain that it is Nouz-hatoul-aonadat, I would rather take this way,\nthan be any longer obstinately positive. For my part, replied Zobeide, I\nknow very well that I am in the right, and you will find it to be Abon\nHassan. And for mine, replied the caliph, I am so sure that it is\nNouz-hatoul-aonadat, that I will lay you what wager you will that Abon\nHassan is well.\n\nDo not think to come off there, said Zobeide: I accept of your wager, and\nI am so well persuaded of his death, that I would willingly lay the\ndearest thing in the world to me. You know what I have in my disposal,\nand what I value most; propose the bet, and I will stand to it.\n\nSince it is come to that, said the caliph, I will lay my garden of\npleasures against your palace of paintings, though the one is worth much\nmore than the other. It is no matter for that, replied Zobeide; if your\ngarden is more valuable, you have made choice of what you thought fit,\nand what belonged to me, as an equivalent against what you lay; and I say\ndone to the wager, and will not turn back. The caliph said the same, and\nboth waited until Mesrour returned.\n\nWhile the caliph and Zobeide were disputing so earnestly, and with so\nmuch heat, Abon Hassan, who foresaw their difference, was very attentive\nto whatever might happen. As soon as he perceived Mesrour through a\nwindow, over against which he sat, talking with his wife, and observed\nthat he was coming directly to their apartment, he presently guessed what\nhe was coming about, and bade his wife make haste to act the dead part\nonce more, as they had agreed on; and, in short, they were so pinched for\ntime, that Abon Hassan had much ado to wrap up his wife, and lay the\npiece of brocade upon her, before Mesrour came. As soon as he had done\nthat, he opened the door of his apartment, and with a melancholy dejected\ncountenance, and his handkerchief before his eyes, went and sat down at\nthe head of the pretended deceased.\n\nBy that time he was seated Mesrour came into the room. The dismal sight\nthat saluted his eyes gave him a secret joy, on account of the errand the\ncaliph sent him on. As soon as Abon Hassan perceived him, he rose up to\nmeet him, and kissing his hand out of respect, said, sighing and\ngroaning, You see me, sir, in the greatest affliction that ever could\nbefall me; the death of my wife Nouz-hatoul-aonadat, whom you honoured\nwith your favours.\n\nMesrour, softened by this discourse, could not refuse some tears to the\nmemory of the deceased. He lifted up the pall a little at the head, which\nwas uncovered, and peeping under it, let it down again, and said, with a\ndeep sigh, There is no other god but God; we must all submit to his will,\nand return to him. Nouz-hatoul-aonadat, my good sister, added he, thy\ndays have been very few: God have mercy on thee. Then turning to Abon\nHassan, who was all the time in tears, We may well say, said he, that\nwomen sometimes have whims, and lose their senses; for Zobeide will\nmaintain to the caliph, that you are dead, and not your wife; and\nwhatever the caliph can say to the contrary, he cannot persuade her\notherwise. He called me to witness the truth of what he affirms; for you\nknow I was by when you came and told him the sorrowful news: but all\nsignifies nothing; they are both positive; and the caliph, to convince\nZobeide, has sent me to know the truth; but I fear I shall not be\nbelieved; for when women once take a thing, they are not to be beat out\nof it.\n\nGod keep the commander of the faithful in the right use of his senses,\nreplied Abon Hassan, still sighing and crying; you see how it is, and\nthat I have not imposed upon his majesty; and I wish to heaven, continued\nhe, to dissemble the better, that I had no occasion to tell him the\nmelancholy and afflicting news. Alas! I cannot enough express my\nirreparable loss. That is true, replied Mesrour; and I can assure you, I\nhave a great share in your affliction; but you must comfort, and not\nabandon yourself to your grief. I leave you against my will, to return to\nthe caliph; but I beg the favour of you not to bury the corpse until I\ncome again, for I will assist at the interment.\n\nAbon Hassan waited on him to the door, and told him that he did not\ndeserve the honour that he did him; and for fear Mesrour should return to\nsay something else to him, he followed him with his eyes for some time,\nand then returned to his wife, and unloosed her. This is already, said\nhe, a new scene of mirth; but I fancy it will not be the last; for\ncertainly the princess Zobeide will not believe Mesrour, but laugh at\nhim, since she has too substantial a reason to the contrary; therefore we\nmust expect some new event. Whilst Abon Hassan and Nouz-hatoul-aonadat\nwere talking thus, she had time enough to put on her clothes again; and\nboth went and sat down on a sofa, opposite to the window, where they\ncould see all that passed.\n\nIn the mean time, Mesrour reached Zobeide\u2019s apartment, and going into her\ncloset laughing, clapped his hands, like one who had something very\nagreeable to tell.\n\nThe caliph, who was naturally impatient, would presently be informed of\nthe truth of the matter; for he was piqued a little at the princess\u2019s\ndiffidence: therefore, as soon as he saw Mesrour, Vile slave, said he, is\nthis a time to laugh? Why do you not tell me which is dead, the wife or\nthe husband?\n\nCommander of the Faithful, answered Mesrour, putting on a serious\ncountenance, it is Nouz-hatoul-aonadat who is dead; for the loss of whom\nAbon Hassan is as much afflicted as when he appeared before your majesty.\nThe caliph, not giving him time to pursue his story, interrupted him, and\ncried out, laughing heartily, Good news; Zobeide was a moment ago\nmistress of the palace of paintings, which she staked against my garden\nof pleasures, since you went, and now it is mine; therefore thou couldst\nnot have done me a greater pleasure: but give me a true account of what\nthou sawest.\n\nCommander of the Faithful, said Mesrour, when I came to Abon Hassan\u2019s\napartments, I found the door open, and he bewailing the death of his wife\nNouz-hatoul-aonadat. He was seated at the head of the deceased, who was\nlaid out in the middle of the room, with her feet towards Mecca, and was\ncovered with that piece of brocade which your majesty made a present of\nto Abon Hassan. After I had expressed the share I had in his grief, I\nwent and lifted up the pall at the head, and knew Nouz-hatoul-aonadat,\nthough her face was very much swelled. I exhorted Abon Hassan the best I\ncould to comfort himself; and when I came away, I told him I would attend\nat his wife\u2019s funeral, and desired him not to stir the corpse till I\ncame. This is all I can tell your majesty. I ask no more, said the\ncaliph, laughing heartily; and I am very well satisfied with thy\nexactness. Then addressing himself to Zobeide, Well, madam, said he, have\nyou yet any thing to say against so certain a truth? Will you always\nbelieve that Nouz-hatoul-aonadat is alive, and that Abon Hassan is dead?\nAnd will you not own that you have lost your wager?\n\nHow, sir, replied Zobeide, who would not believe one word Mesrour said,\ndo you think that I regard that impertinent slave, who knows not what he\nsays? I am not so blind or mad. With these eyes I saw Nouz-hatoul-aonadat\nin the greatest affliction: I spoke to her myself, and she told me that\nher husband was dead.\n\nMadam, replied Mesrour, I swear to you by your own life, and that of the\ncommander of the faithful, which are both dear to me, that\nNouz-hatoul-aonadat is dead, and Abon Hassan is living.\n\nThou art a base despicable slave, said Zobeide, in a rage, and I will\nconfound thee immediately; and thereupon she called her women, by\nclapping her hands together, who all came in. Come hither, said the\nprincess to them, and speak the truth: Who was that who came and spoke\nwith me a little before the caliph came here? The women all answered,\nthat it was poor afflicted Nouz-hatoul-aonadat. And what, added she,\naddressing herself to her that was treasurer, did I order you to give\nher? Madam, answered the treasurer, I gave Nouz-hatoul-aonadat, by your\norders, a purse of a hundred pieces of gold, and a piece of brocade,\nwhich she carried along with her. Well then, sorry slave, said Zobeide to\nMesrour, in a great passion, what hast thou to say to all this? What dost\nthou think now, that I ought to believe thee, or my treasurer, my other\nwomen, or myself?\n\nMesrour did not want for arguments to contradict the princess; but, as he\nwas afraid of provoking her too much, he chose rather to be silent,\nthough he was satisfied within himself that the wife was dead, and not\nthe husband.\n\nAll the time of this dispute between Zobeide and Mesrour, the caliph, who\nheard what was said on both sides, and was against the princess, because\nhe had seen and spoke to Abon Hassan himself, laughed heartily to see\nZobeide so exasperated against Mesrour. Madam, said he to Zobeide, I know\nnot indeed who was the author of that saying, That women sometimes lose\ntheir wits; but I am sure you make it good. Mesrour came just now from\nAbon Hassan\u2019s, and tells you that he saw Nouz-hatoul-aonadat lying dead\nin the middle of the room, Abon Hassan alive, and sitting by her; and yet\nyou will not believe this evidence, which nobody can reasonably refuse: I\nthink it is very strange.\n\nZobeide would not hear what the caliph represented. Pardon me, Commander\nof the Faithful, replied she, if I suspect you: I see very well that you\nhave contrived with Mesrour to chagrin me, and try my patience. And as I\nperceive that this report was concerted between you, I beg leave to send\na person to Abon Hassan\u2019s, to know whether or no I am in the wrong.\n\nThe caliph consented, and the princess charged an old nurse, who had\nlived a long time with her, with that important commission. Hark ye,\nnurse, said she, you see the dispute between the caliph and me; therefore\ngo to Abon Hassan\u2019s, or rather Nouz-hatoul-aonadat\u2019s, for he is dead, and\nclear up this matter. If thou bringest me good news, a handsome present\nis thy reward. Make haste and return quickly.\n\nThe caliph was overjoyed to see Zobeide in this embarrassment; but\nMesrour, extremely mortified to find the princess so angry with him, did\nall he could to appease her, insomuch that she and the caliph were both\nsatisfied with him. He was overjoyed when Zobeide sent the nurse; because\nhe was persuaded that the report she would make would agree with his, and\nwould justify him, and restore him to her favour.\n\nIn the mean time, Abon Hassan, who watched the window, perceived the\nnurse at a distance, and guessing that she was sent by Zobeide, called\nhis wife, and told her that the princess\u2019s nurse was coming to know the\ntruth; therefore, said he, make haste and lay me out. Accordingly\nNouz-hatoul-aonadat did so, and covered him with the piece of brocade\nZobeide had given her, and put his turban upon his face. The nurse, eager\nto acquit herself of her commission, came a good round pace, and entering\nthe room, perceived Nouz-hatoul-aonadat all in tears, her hair\ndishevelled, and seated at the head of her husband, beating her breast,\nand expressing a violent grief.\n\nThe good old nurse went directly to the false widow. My dear\nNouz-hatoul-aonadat, said she, with a sorrowful face, I come not to\ninterrupt your grief and tears for a husband who loved you so tenderly.\nAh! good mother, replied the counterfeit widow, you see my misfortune,\nand how unhappy I am by the loss of my beloved Abon Hassan. Abon Hassan,\nmy dear husband! cried she, what have I done that you should leave me so\nsoon? Have I not always rather obeyed your will than my own? Alas! what\nwill become of poor Nouz-hatoul-aonadat?\n\nThe nurse was in a great surprise to see every thing quite the reverse of\nwhat the chief of the eunuchs had told the caliph. This black-faced\nMesrour, said she, lifting up her hands, deserves to be impaled for\nhaving made so great a difference between my good mistress and the\ncommander of the faithful, by the notorious lie he told them. I will tell\nyou daughter, said she, the wickedness of that villain Mesrour, who has\nasserted, with an inconceivable impudence, before my mistress\u2019s face,\nthat you were dead, and Abon Hassan was alive.\n\nAlas! my good mother, cried Nouz-hatoul-aonadat, I wish to heaven that it\nwas true! I should not be in this sorrowful state, nor bewail a husband\nso dear to me. At these words she burst out into tears, and feigned a\nmost desperate trouble.\n\nThe nurse was so much concerned for her tears, that she sat down by her,\nand cried too: then gently lifting up the turban and cloth, looked on the\nface of the corpse. Ah! poor Abon Hassan, cried she, covering the face\nagain, God have mercy upon thee. Adieu, child, said she to\nNouz-hatoul-aonadat; if I could stay longer with you, I would, with all\nmy heart: but I am obliged to return immediately, to free my mistress\nfrom the uneasiness that black villain has given her by his impudent lie,\nassuring her with an oath that you was dead.\n\nAs soon as the nurse was gone, and had pulled the door after her, and\nNouz-hatoul-aonadat thought she would not come back again, she wiped her\neyes, and went and unloosed Abon Hassan, and then both went and sat down\non a sofa against the window, expecting what would be the end of this\ncheat, and to be ready to act according as things should offer.\n\nThe nurse, in the mean time, made all the haste she could to Zobeide. The\npleasure of carrying the princess good news, and hopes of a good reward,\nadded wings to her feet; and running into the princess\u2019s closet, quite\nout of breath, there gave her a true account of all she had seen. Zobeide\nhearkened to the old woman\u2019s relation with a most sensible pleasure; and\nwhen she had done, she said, Repeat it once more before the caliph, who\nlooked upon us all to be fools, and would make us believe we have no\nsense of religion, nor fear of God; and tell your story to that wicked\nblack slave, who had the insolence to assert a falsity, and which I know\nto be one.\n\nMesrour, who expected the nurse\u2019s report would prove favourable on his\nside, was very much mortified to find it so much the contrary. He was so\nvexed at the rage Zobeide expressed against him, for a thing he believed\nto be very true, that he was glad of having an opportunity of speaking\nhis mind freely to the nurse, which he durst not do to the princess. Old\ntoothless, said he to the nurse, thou tellest lies, and there is no truth\nin what thou sayest; for I saw Nouz-hatoul-aonadat, with these eyes, laid\nout in the midst of the room.\n\nThou art a notorious liar thyself, replied the nurse, with an insulting\nair, to dare to maintain before my face so great a falsity, since I saw\nAbon Hassan dead, and laid out, and left his wife alive. Thou art an\nimpostor, replied Mesrour, and endeavourest to put us all into confusion.\n\nThere is impudence for you, said the nurse, to dare to tell me I lie, in\nthe presence of their majesties, when I saw just now, with my own eyes,\nwhat I have had the honour to tell them. Indeed, nurse, answered Mesrour\nagain, you had better hold your tongue, for you certainly dote.\n\nZobeide, who could not support this want of respect in Mesrour, who,\nwithout any regard to her, treated her nurse injuriously, without giving\nthe nurse time to reply to so gross an affront, said to the caliph,\nCommander of the Faithful, I demand justice for this insolence in our\npresence; and could say no more, she was so enraged, and burst out into\ntears.\n\nThe caliph, who had heard all this dispute, thought it very intricate,\nand mused some time, and could not tell what to think of so many\ncontradictions. The princess, for her part, as well as Mesrour, the\nnurse, and all the women slaves who were present, were as much puzzled,\nand remained silent. At last the caliph taking up the cudgels, and\naddressing himself to Zobeide, said, I see very well we are all liars;\nmyself first, and then you, Mesrour, and your nurse; or at least it seems\nnot one can be believed before the other: therefore, let us go ourselves\nto know the truth; for I can see no other way to clear up these doubts.\n\nAfter these words the caliph got up, the princess followed him, and\nMesrour went before to open the doors. Commander of the Faithful, said\nhe, I am overjoyed that your majesty has taken this course, and much\nmore, when I shall make it plainly appear that the nurse dotes, though\nthe expression is displeasing to my good mistress.\n\nThe nurse, who wanted not to reply, said, Hold thy tongue, black face;\nthou dotest thyself.\n\nZobeide, who was very much provoked at Mesrour, could not bear to hear\nhim attack her nurse again without taking her part. Vile slave, said she,\nsay what thou wilt, I maintain my nurse is in the right, and look upon\nthee as a liar. Madam, replied Mesrour, if the nurse is so very certain\nthat Nouz-hatoul-aonadat is alive, and Abon Hassan is dead, I will lay\nher what she dare of it. The nurse was as ready as he; and, in short,\nthey laid a piece of gold and silver stuff.\n\nThe apartment the caliph and Zobeide came out of, though it was a great\nway from Abon Hassan\u2019s, was nevertheless just over against it, and Abon\nHassan could perceive them coming, and told his wife, that the caliph and\nZobeide, preceded by Mesrour, and followed by a great number of women,\nwere coming to do them the honour of a visit. At this news she seemed\nfrightened, and cried out, What shall we do? we are ruined! Fear nothing,\nreplied Abon Hassan: What! have you forgot what we agreed on? We will\nboth be dead, and you shall see all will go well. At the slow rate they\ncome, we shall be ready before that time they get to the door.\nAccordingly Abon Hassan and his wife wrapped up and covered themselves\nwith the piece of brocade, and waited patiently for their visitors.\n\nMesrour, who came first, opened the door, and the caliph and Zobeide,\nfollowed by their attendants, entered the room; but were extremely\nsurprised, and stood motionless, at the dismal sight which saluted their\neyes. At last, Zobeide breaking silence, said to the caliph, Alas! they\nare both dead! You have done finely, continued she, looking at the caliph\nand Mesrour, to endeavour to make me believe that my slave was dead; and\nI find it true at last: it is dangerous jesting with edge-tools: the\ngrief of losing her husband has certainly killed her. Say rather, madam,\nanswered the caliph, prepossessed to the contrary, that\nNouz-hatoul-aonadat died first, and the afflicted Abon Hassan could not\nsurvive his dear wife: therefore you ought to agree that you have lost\nyour wager, and your palace of paintings is mine.\n\nHold there, answered Zobeide, animated with the same spirit of\ncontradiction; I will maintain it, you have lost your garden of pleasures\nto me. Abon Hassan died first; since my nurse told you, as well as me,\nthat she saw her alive, and crying for the death of her husband.\n\nThe dispute of the caliph and Zobeide brought on another between Mesrour\nand the nurse, who had wagered as well as they; and each pretended to\nwin, and came at last to abuse each other very grossly.\n\nAfter all, the caliph reflecting on what had passed, began to think that\nZobeide had as much reason as himself to maintain that she had won. In\nthe embarrassment he was, of not being able to find out the truth, he\nadvanced towards the two corpses, and sat himself down at the head,\nsearching after something that might gain him the victory over Zobeide.\nWell, cried he, presently after, I swear, by the holy name of God, that I\nwill give a thousand pieces of gold to him that can tell me which of\nthese two died first.\n\nNo sooner were these words out of the caliph\u2019s mouth, but he heard a\nvoice under Abon Hassan\u2019s pall, say, Commander of the Faithful, I died\nfirst, give me the thousand pieces of gold. At the same time he saw Abon\nHassan throw off the piece of brocade, and come and prostrate himself at\nhis feet, while his wife did the same to Zobeide, keeping on her pall of\nbrocade, out of decency. The princess at first shrieked out, and\nfrightened all about her; but recovering herself at last, expressed a\ngreat joy to see her slave rise again alive. Ah! wicked\nNouz-hatoul-aonadat, cried she, what affliction have I been in for thy\nsake! However, I forgive thee from my heart, and am glad to see thee\nwell.\n\nThe caliph, for his part, was not so much surprised when he heard Abon\nHassan\u2019s voice; but thought he should have died away with laughing at\nthis unravelling of the mystery, and to hear Abon Hassan ask so seriously\nfor the thousand pieces of gold. What, Abon Hassan, said he, hast thou\nconspired against my life, to kill me a second time with laughing? How\ncame this thought into your head, to surprise Zobeide and me thus, when\nwe least thought on such a trick?\n\nCommander of the Faithful, replied Abon Hassan, I will declare to your\nmajesty the whole truth, without the least reserve. Your majesty knows\nvery well, that I always loved to eat and drink well; and the wife you\ngave me rather increased than restrained that inclination. With these\ndispositions, your majesty may easily suppose we might spend a good\nestate; and, to make short of my story, we were not the least sparing of\nwhat your majesty so generously gave us. This morning, accounting with\nour caterer, who took care to provide every thing for us, and paying what\nwe owed him, we found we had nothing left. Then reflections of what was\npast, and resolutions to manage better for the future, crowded into our\nthoughts apace, and after them a thousand projects, all which we refused.\nAt last, the shame of being reduced to so low a condition, and not daring\nto tell your majesty, made us contrive this trick to relieve our\nnecessities, and to divert your majesty, hoping that you would be pleased\nto pardon us.\n\nThe caliph and Zobeide were very well satisfied with Abon Hassan\u2019s\nsincerity; and then Zobeide, who had all along been very serious, began\nto laugh, and could not help thinking of Abon Hassan\u2019s scheme; when the\ncaliph, who had laughed his sides sore at the singularity of this\nadventure, rising up, said, Follow me both of you, and I will give you\nthe thousand pieces of gold I promised you. Zobeide desired him to let\nher make her slave a present of that sum. By this means Abon Hassan and\nhis dear wife Nouz-hatoul-aonadat preserved the favour of the caliph\nHaroun Alraschid and the princess Zobeide; and by their liberalities were\nmade capable of pursuing their pleasures.\n\n\n\n\n Footnotes\n\n\n[1]A famous player on the lute, that lived at Bagdad at that time.\n\n[2]Giauhara, in Arabic, signifies a Precious Stone.\n\n\n END OF THE THIRD VOLUME.\n\n LONDON:\n PRINTED BY THOMAS DAVISON, WHITEFRIARS.\n\n\n\n\n Transcriber\u2019s notes\n\n\n--Silently corrected several palpable typos.","title":"The Arabian Nights, Volume 3 (of 4)","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":113696}