{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_5664/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_5664","id":"gutenberg_5664","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/5664","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Short Stories","Fairy tales","Tales -- Arab countries"],"text":"The \"Aldine\" Edition of\n\n               The Arabian Nights Entertainments\n\n                   Illustrated by S. L. Wood\n\n              FROM THE TEXT OF DR. JONATHAN SCOTT\n\n                        In Four Volumes\n\n                            Volume 1\n\n     Only 500 copies of the Small Paper Edition are printed\n             for America, of which this is No. 217\n\n\n                             London\n                      Pickering and Chatto\n                              1890\n\n\n\n\n                    The Publishers' Preface.\n\n\n\nThis, the \"Aldine Edition\" of \"The Arabian Nights\nEntertainments,\" forms the first four volumes of a proposed\nseries of reprints of the Standard works of fiction which have\nappeared in the English language.\n\nIt is our intention to publish the series in an artistic way,\nwell illustrating a text typographically as perfect as possible.\nThe texts in all cases will be carefully chosen from approved\neditions.\n\nThe series is intended for those who appreciate well printed and\nillustrated books, or who are in want of a handy and handsome\nedition of such works to place upon their bookshelves.\n\nThe exact origin of the Tales, which appear in the Arabic as \"The\nThousand and One Nights,\" is unknown. The Caliph Haroon al\nRusheed, who, figures in so lifelike a manner in many of the\nstories, was a contemporary of the Emperor Charlemagne, and there\nis internal evidence that the collection was made in the Arabic\nlanguage about the end of the tenth century.\n\nThey undoubtedly convey a picturesque impression of the manners,\nsentiments, and customs of Eastern Mediaeval Life.\n\nThe stories were translated from the Arabic by M. Galland and\nfirst found their way into English in 1704, when they were\nretranslated from M. Galland's French text and at once became\nexceedingly popular.\n\nThis process of double translation had great disadvantages; it\ninduced Dr. Jonathan Scott, Oriental Professor, to publish in\n1811, a new edition, revised and corrected from the Arabic.\n\nIt is upon this text that the present edition is formed.\n\nIt will be found free from that grossness which is unavoidable in\na strictly literal translation of the original into English; and\nwhich has rendered the splendid translations of Sir R. Burton and\nMr. J. Payne quite unsuitable as the basis of a popular edition,\nthough at the same time stamping the works as the two most\nperfect editions for the student.\n\nThe scholarly translation of Lane, by the too strict an adherence\nto Oriental forms of expression, and somewhat pedantic rendering\nof the spelling of proper names, is found to be tedious to a very\nlarge number of readers attracted by the rich imagination,\nromance, and humour of these tales.\n\n\n\n               The Arabian Nights Entertainments.\n\n\n\nThe chronicles of the Sassanians, ancient kings of Persia, who\nextended their empire into the Indies, over all the adjacent\nislands, and a great way beyond the Ganges, as far as China,\nacquaint us, that there was formerly a king of that potent\nfamily, who was regarded as the most excellent prince of his\ntime. He was as much beloved by his subjects for his wisdom and\nprudence, as he was dreaded by his neighbours, on account of his\nvelour, and well-disciplined troops. He had two sons; the elder\nShier-ear, the worthy heir of his father, and endowed with all\nhis virtues; the younger Shaw-zummaun, a prince of equal merit.\n\nAfter a long and glorious reign, this king died; and Shier-ear\nmounted his throne. Shaw-zummaun, being excluded from all share\nin the government by the laws of the empire, and obliged to live\na private life, was so far from envying the happiness of his\nbrother, that he made it his whole business to please him, and in\nthis succeeded without much difficulty. Shier-ear, who had\nnaturally a great affection the prince his brother, gave him the\nkingdom of Great Tartary. Shaw-zummaun went immediately and took\npossession of it, and fixed the seat of his government at\nSamarcand, the metropolis of the country.\n\nAfter they had been separated ten years, Shier-ear, being very\ndesirous of seeing his brother, resolved to send an ambassador to\ninvite him to his court. He made choice of his prime vizier for\nthe embassy, and sent him to Tartary, with a retinue answerable\nto his dignity. The vizier proceeded with all possible expedition\nto Samarcand. When he came near the city, Shaw-zummaun was\ninformed of his approach, and went to meet him attended by the\nprincipal lords of his court, who, to shew the greater honour to\nthe sultan's minister, appeared in magnificent apparel. The king\nof Tartary received the ambassador with the greatest\ndemonstrations of joy; and immediately asked him concerning the\nwelfare of the sultan his brother. The vizier having acquainted\nhim that he was in health, informed him of the purpose of his\nembassy. Shaw-zummaun was much affected, and answered: \"Sage\nvizier, the sultan my brother does me too much honour; nothing\ncould be more agreeable to me, for I as ardently long to see him\nas he does to see me. Time has not diminished my friendship more\nthan his. My kingdom is in peace, and I want no more than ten\ndays to get myself ready to return with you. There is therefore\nno necessity for your entering the city for so short a period. I\npray you to pitch your tents here, and I will order everything\nnecessary to be provided for yourself and your attendants.\" The\nvizier readily complied; and as soon as the king returned to the\ncity, he sent him a prodigious quantity of provisions of all\nsorts, with presents of great value.\n\nIn the meanwhile, Shaw-zummaun prepared for his journey, gave\norders about his most important affairs, appointed a council to\ngovern in his absence, and named a minister, of whose wisdom he\nhad sufficient experience, and in whom he had entire confidence,\nto be their president. At the end of ten days, his equipage being\nready, he took leave of the queen his wife, and went out of town\nin the evening with his retinue. He pitched his royal pavilion\nnear the vizier's tent, and conversed with him till midnight.\nWishing once more to see the queen, whom he ardently loved, he\nreturned alone to his palace, and went directly to her majesty's\napartments. But she, not expecting his return, had taken one of\nthe meanest officers of her household to her bed.\n\nThe king entered without noise, and pleased himself to think how\nhe should surprise his wife who he thought loved him with\nreciprocal tenderness. But how great was his astonishment, when,\nby the light of the flambeau, he beheld a man in her arms! He\nstood immovable for some time, not knowing how to believe his own\neyes. But finding there was no room for doubt, \"How!\" said he to\nhimself, \"I am scarcely out of my palace, and but just under the\nwalls of Samarcand, and dare they put such an outrage upon me?\nPerfidious wretches! your crime shall not go unpunished. As a\nking, I am bound to punish wickedness committed in my dominions;\nand as an enraged husband, I must sacrifice you to my just\nresentment.\" The unfortunate prince, giving way to his rage, then\ndrew his cimeter, and approaching the bed killed them both with\none blow, their sleep into death; and afterwards taking them up,\nhe threw them out of a window into the ditch that surrounded the\npalace.\n\nHaving thus avenged himself, he returned to his pavilion without\nsaying one word of what had happened, gave orders that the tents\nshould be struck, and everything made ready for his journey. All\nwas speedily prepared, and before day he began his march, with\nkettle-drums and other instruments of music, that filled everyone\nwith joy, excepting the king; he was so much afflicted by the\ndisloyalty of his wife, that he was seized with extreme\nmelancholy, which preyed upon his spirits during the whole of his\njourney.\n\nWhen he drew near the capital of the Indies, the sultan Shier-ear\nand all his court came out to meet him. The princes were\noverjoyed to see one another, and having alighted, after mutual\nembraces and other marks of affection and respect, remounted, and\nentered the city, amidst the acclamations of the people. The\nsultan conducted his brother to the palace provided for him,\nwhich had a communication with his own by a garden. It was so\nmuch the more magnificent as it was set apart as a banqueting-\nhouse for public entertainments, and other diversions of the\ncourt, and its splendour had been lately augmented by new\nfurniture.\n\nShier-ear immediately left the king of Tartary, that he might\ngive him time to bathe, and to change his apparel. As soon as he\nhad done, he returned to him again, and they sat down together on\na sofa or alcove. The courtiers out of respect kept at a\ndistance, and the two princes entertained one another suitably to\ntheir friendship, their consanguinity, and their long separation.\nThe time of supper being come, they ate together, after which\nthey renewed their conversation, which continued till Shier-ear,\nperceiving that it was very late, left his brother to repose.\n\nThe unfortunate Shaw-zummaun retired to bed. Though the\nconversation of his brother had suspended his grief for some\ntime, it returned again with increased violence; so that, instead\nof taking his necessary rest, he tormented himself with the\nbitterest reflections. All the circumstances of his wife's\ndisloyalty presented themselves afresh to his imagination, in so\nlively a manner, that he was like one distracted. being able to\nsleep, he arose, and abandoned himself to the most afflicting\nthoughts, which made such an impression upon his countenance, as\nit was impossible for the sultan not to observe. \"What,\" said he,\n\"can be the matter with the king of Tartary that he is so\nmelancholy? Has he any cause to complain of his reception? No,\nsurely; I have received him as a brother whom I love, so that I\ncan charge myself with no omission in that respect. Perhaps it\ngrieves him to be at such a distance from his dominions, or from\nthe queen his wife? If that be the case, I must forthwith give\nhim the presents I designed for him, that he may return to\nSamarcand.\" Accordingly the next day Shier-ear sent him part of\nthose presents, being the greatest rarities and the richest\nthings that the Indies could afford. At the same time he\nendeavoured to divert his brother every day by new objects of\npleasure, and the most splendid entertainments. But these,\ninstead of affording him ease, only increased his sorrow.\n\nOne day, Shier-ear having appointed a great hunting-match, about\ntwo days journey from his capital, in a place that abounded with\ndeer, Shaw-zummaun besought him to excuse his attendance, for his\nhealth would not allow him to bear him company. The sultan,\nunwilling to put any constraint upon him, left him at his\nliberty, and went a-hunting with his nobles. The king of Tartary\nbeing thus left alone, shut himself up in his apartment, and sat\ndown at a window that looked into the garden. That delicious\nplace, and the sweet harmony of an infinite number of birds,\nwhich chose it for their retreat, must certainly have diverted\nhim, had he been capable of taking pleasure in anything; but\nbeing perpetually tormented with the fatal remembrance of his\nqueen's infamous conduct, his eyes were not so much fixed upon\nthe garden, as lifted up to heaven to bewail his misfortune.\n\nWhile he was thus absorbed in grief, a circumstance occurred\nwhich attracted the whole of his attention. A secret gate of the\nsultan's palace suddenly opened, and there came out of it twenty\nwomen, in the midst of whom walked the sultaness, who was easily\ndistinguished from the rest by her majestic air. This princess\nthinking that the king of Tartary was gone a-hunting with his\nbrother the sultan, came with her retinue near the windows of his\napartment. For the prince had so placed himself that he could see\nall that passed in the garden without being perceived himself. He\nobserved, that the persons who accompanied the sultaness threw\noff their veils and long robes, that they might be more at their\nease, but he was greatly surprised to find that ten of them were\nblack men, and that each of these took his mistress. The\nsultaness, on her part, was not long without her gallant. She\nclapped her hands, and called \"Masoud, Masoud,\" and immediately a\nblack descended from a tree, and ran towards her with great\nspeed.\n\nModesty will not allow, nor is it necessary, to relate what\npassed between the blacks and the ladies. It is sufficient to\nsay, that Shaw-zummaun saw enough to convince him, that his\nbrother was as much to be pitied as himself. This amorous company\ncontinued together till midnight, and having bathed together in a\ngreat piece of water, which was one of the chief ornaments of the\ngarden, they dressed themselves, and re-entered the palace by the\nsecret door, all except Masoud, who climbed up his tree, and got\nover the garden wall as he had come in.\n\nThese things having passed in the king of Tartary's sight, filled\nhim with a multitude of reflections. \"How little reason had I,\"\nsaid he, \"to think that none was so unfortunate as myself? It is\nsurely the unavoidable fate of all husbands, since even the\nsultan my brother, who is sovereign of so-many dominions, and the\ngreatest prince of the earth, could not escape. Such being the\ncase, what a fool am I to kill myself with grief? I am resolved\nthat the remembrance of a misfortune so common shall never more\ndisturb my peace.\"\n\nFrom that moment he forbore afflicting himself. He called for his\nsupper, ate with a better appetite than he had done since his\nleaving Samarcand, and listened with some degree of pleasure to\nthe agreeable concert of vocal and instrumental music that was\nappointed to entertain him while at table.\n\nHe continued after this very cheerful; and when he was informed\nthat the sultan was returning, went to meet him, and paid him his\ncompliments with great gaiety. Shier-ear at first took no notice\nof this alteration. He politely expostulated with him for not\nbearing him company, and without giving him time to reply,\nentertained him with an account of the great number of deer and\nother game they had killed, and the pleasure he had received in\nthe chase. Shaw-zummaun heard him with attention; and being now\nrelieved from the melancholy which had before depressed his\nspirits, and clouded his talents, took up the conversation in his\nturn, and spoke a thousand agreeable and pleasant things to the\nsultan.\n\nShier-ear, who expected to have found him in the same state as he\nhad left him, was overjoyed to see him so cheerful: \"Dear\nbrother,\" said he, \"I return thanks to heaven for the happy\nchange it has wrought in you during my absence. I am indeed\nextremely rejoiced. But I have a request to make to you, and\nconjure you not to deny me.\"I can refuse you nothing,\" replied\nthe king of Tartary; \"you may command Shaw-zummaun as you please:\nspeak, I am impatient to know what you desire of me.\" \"Ever since\nyou came to my court,\" resumed Shier-ear, \"I have found you\nimmersed in a deep melancholy, and I have in vain attempted to\nremove it by different diversions. I imagined it might be\noccasioned by your distance from your dominions, or that love\nmight have a great share in it; and that the queen of Samarcand,\nwho, no doubt, is an accomplished beauty, might be the cause. I\ndo not know whether I am mistaken in my conjecture; but I must\nown, that it was for this very reason I would not importune you\nupon the subject, for fear of making you uneasy. But without\nmyself contributing anything towards effecting the change, I find\non my return that your mind is entirely delivered from the black\nvapour which disturbed it. Pray do me the favour to tell me why\nyou were so melancholy, and wherefore you are no longer so.\"\n\nThe king of Tartary continued for some time as if he had been\nmeditating and contriving what he should answer; but at last\nreplied, \"You are my sultan and master; but excuse me, I beseech\nyou, from answering your question.\" \"No, dear brother,\" said the\nsultan, \"you must answer me, I will take no denial.\" Shaw-\nzummaun, not being able to withstand these pressing entreaties,\nreplied, \"Well then, brother, I will satisfy you, since you\ncommand me ;\" and having told him the story of the queen of\nSamarcand's treachery \"This,\" said he, \"was the cause of my\ngrief; judge whether I had not sufficient reason for my\ndepression.\"\n\n\"O! my brother,\" said the sultan, (in a tone which shewed what\ninterest he took in the king of Tartary's affliction), \"what a\nhorrible event do you tell me! I commend you for punishing the\ntraitors who offered you such an outrage. None can blame you for\nwhat you have done. It was just; and for my part, had the case\nbeen mine, 1 should scarcely have been so moderate. I could not\nhave satisfied myself with the life of one woman; I should have\nsacrificed a thousand to my fury. I now cease to wonder at your\nmelancholy. The cause was too afflicting and too mortifying not\nto overwhelm you. O heaven! what a strange adventure! Nor do I\nbelieve the like ever befell any man but yourself. But I must\nbless God, who has comforted you; and since I doubt not but your\nconsolation is well-grounded, be so good as to inform me what it\nis, and conceal nothing from me.\" Shaw-zummaun was not so easily\nprevailed upon in this point as he had been in the other, on his\nbrother's account. But being obliged to yield to his pressing\ninstances, answered, \"I must obey you then, since your command is\nabsolute, yet I am afraid that my obedience will occasion your\ntrouble to be greater than my own. But you must blame yourself,\nsince you force me to reveal what I should otherwise have buried\nin eternal Oblivion.\" \"What you say,\" answered Shier-ear, \"serves\nonly to increase my curiosity. Discover the secret, whatever it\nbe.\" The king of Tartary being no longer able to refuse, related\nto him the particulars of the blacks in disguise, of the\nungoverned passion of the sultaness, and her ladies; nor did he\nforget Masoud. After having been witness to these infamous\nactions, he continued, \"I believed all women to be naturally\nlewd; and that they could not resist their inclination. Being of\nthis opinion, it seemed to me to be in men an unaccountable\nweakness to place any confidence in their fidelity. This\nreflection brought on many others; and in short, I thought the\nbest thing I could do was to make myself easy. It cost me some\npains indeed, but at last I grew reconciled; and if you will take\nmy advice, you will follow my example.\"\n\nThough the advice was good, the sultan could not approve of it,\nbut fell into a rage. \"What!\" said he, \"is the sultaness of the\nIndies capable of prostituting herself in so base a manner! No,\nbrother, I cannot believe what you state unless I beheld it with\nmy own eyes. Yours must needs have deceived you; the matter is so\nimportant that I must be satisfied of it myself.\" \"Dear brother,\"\nanswered Shaw-zummaun, \"that you may without much difficulty.\nAppoint another hunting-match, and when we are out of town with\nyour court and mine, we will rest under our tents, and at night\nlet you and I return unattended to my apartments. I am certain\nthe next day you will see a repetition of the scene.\" The sultan\napproving the stratagem, immediately appointed another hunting-\nmatch. And that same day the tents were pitched at the place\nappointed.\n\nThe next day the two princes set out with all their retinue; they\narrived at the place of encampment, and stayed there till night.\nShier-ear then called his grand vizier, and, without acquainting\nhim with his design, commanded him during his absence to suffer\nno person to quit the camp on any presence whatever. As soon as\nhe had given this order, the king of Grand Tartary and he took\nhorse, passed through the camp incognito, returned to the city,\nand went to Shaw-zummaun's apartment. They had scarcely placed\nthemselves in the window whence the king of Tartary had beheld\nthe scene of the disguised blacks, when the secret gate opened,\nthe sultaness and her ladies entered the garden with the blacks,\nand she having called to Masoud, the sultan saw more than enough\nfully to convince him of his dishonour and misfortune.\n\n\"Oh heavens!\" he exclaimed, \"what indignity! What horror! Can the\nwife of a sovereign be capable of such infamous conduct? After\nthis, let no prince boast of being perfectly happy. Alas! my\nbrother,\" continued he, embracing the king of Tartery, \"let us\nboth renounce the world, honour is banished out of it; if it\nflatter us one day, it betrays us the next. Let us abandon our\ndominions, and go into foreign countries, where we may lead an\nobscure life, and conceal our misfortunes.\" Shaw-zummaun did not\nat all approve of this plan, but did not think fit to contradict\nShierear in the heat of his passion. \"Dear brother,\" he replied,\n\"your will shall be mine. I am ready to follow you whithersoever\nyou please: but promise me that you will return, if we meet with\nany one more unhappy than ourselves.\" \"To this I agree,\" said the\nsultan, \"but doubt much whether we shall.\" \"I am not of your\nopinion in this,\" replied the king of Tartary; \"I fancy our\njourney will be but short.\" Having thus resolved, they went\nsecretly out of the palace. They travelled as long as day-light\ncontinued; and lay the first night under trees. They arose about\nbreak of day, went on till they came to a fine meadow on the\nseashore, that was be-sprinkled with large trees They sat down\nunder one of them to rest and refresh themselves, and the chief\nsubject of their conversation was the infidelity or their wives.\n\nThey had not rested long, before they heard a frightful noise\nfrom the sea, and a terrible cry, which filled them with fear.\nThe sea then opened, and there arose something like a great black\ncolumn, which reached almost to the clouds. This redoubled their\nterror, made them rise with haste, and climb up into a tree m\nbide themselves. They had scarcely got up, when looking to the\nplace from whence the noise proceeded, and where the sea had\nopened, they observed that the black column advanced, winding\nabout towards the: shore, cleaving the water before it. They\ncould not at first think what this could mean, but in a little\ntime they found that it was one of those malignant genies that\nare mortal enemies to mankind, and are always doing them\nmischief. He was black and frightful, had the shape of a giant,\nof a prodigious stature, and carried on his head a large glass\nbox, fastened with four locks of fine steel. He entered the\nmeadow with his burden, which he laid down just at the foot of\nthe tree where the two princes were concealed, who gave\nthemselves over as lost. The genie sat down by his box, and\nopening it with four keys that he had at his girdle, there came\nout a lady magnificently appareled, of a majestic stature, and\nperfect beauty. The monster made her sit down by him, and eyeing\nher with an amorous look, said, \"Lady, nay, most accomplished of\nall ladies who are admired for their beauty, my charming\nmistress, whom I carried off on your wedding-day, and have loved\nso constantly ever since, let me sleep a few moments by you; for\nI found myself so very drowsy that I came to this place to take a\nlittle rest.\" Having spoken thus, he laid down his huge head upon\nthe lady's knees, and stretching out his legs, which reached as\nfar as the sea, he fell asleep presently, and snored so loud that\nhe made the shores echo.\n\nThe lady happening at this time to look up, saw the two princes\nin the tree, and made a sign to them with her hand to come down\nwithout making any noise. Their fear was extreme when they found\nthemselves discovered, and they prayed the lady, by other signs,\nto excuse them. But she, after having laid the monster's head\nsoftly on the ground, rose up and spoke to them, with a low but\neager voice, to come down to her; she would take no denial. They\ninformed her by signs that they were afraid of the genie, and\nwould fain have been excused. Upon which she ordered them to come\ndown, and threatened if they did not make haste, to awaken the\ngenie, and cause him to put them to death.\n\nThese words so much intimidated the princes, that they began to\ndescend with all possible precaution lest they should awake the\ngenie. When they had come down, the lady took them by the hand,\nand going a little farther with them under the trees, made them a\nvery urgent proposal. At first they rejected it, but she obliged\nthem to comply by her threats. Having obtained what she desired,\nshe perceived that each of them had a ring on his finger, which\nshe demanded. As soon as she had received them, she pulled out a\nstring of other rings, which she shewed the princes, and asked\nthem if they knew what those jewels meant? \"No,\" said they, \"we\nhope you will be pleased to inform us.\" \"These are,\" she replied,\n\"the rings of all the men to whom I have granted my favours.\nThere are fourscore and eighteen, which I keep as memorials of\nthem; and I asked for yours to make up the hundred. So that I\nhave had a hundred gallants already, notwithstanding the\nvigilance of this wicked genie, who never leaves me. He may lock\nme up in this glass box and hide me in the bottom of the sea; but\nI find methods to elude his vigilance. You may see by this, that\nwhen a woman has formed a project, there is no husband or lover\nthat can prevent her from putting it in execution. Men had better\nnot put their wives under such restraint, as it only serves to\nteach them cunning.\" Having spoken thus to them, she put their\nrings on the same string with the rest, and sitting down by the\nmonster, as before, laid his head again upon her lap, end made a\nsign to the princes to depart.\n\nThey returned immediately the way they had come, and when they\nwere out of sight of the lady and the genie Shier-ear said to\nShaw-zummaun \"Well, brother, what do you think of this adventure?\nHas not the genie a very faithful mistress? And do you not agree\nthat there is no wickedness equal to that of women?\" \"Yes,\nbrother,\" answered the king of Great Tartary; \"and you must also\nagree that the monster is more unfortunate, and more to be pitied\nthan ourselves. Therefore, since we have found what we sought\nfor, let us return to our dominions, and let not this hinder us\nfrom marrying. For my part, I know a method by which to preserve\nthe fidelity of my wife inviolable. I will say no more at\npresent, but you will hear of it in a little time, and I am sure\nyou will follow my example.\" The sultan agreed with his brother;\nand continuing their journey, they arrived in the camp the third\nnight after their departure.\n\nThe news of the sultan's return being spread, the courtiers came\nbetimes in the morning before his pavilion to wait his pleasure.\nHe ordered them to enter, received them with a more pleasant air\nthan he had formerly done, and gave each of them a present. After\nwhich, he told them he would go no farther, ordered them to take\nhorse, and returned with expedition to his palace.\n\nAs soon as he arrived, he proceeded to the sultaness's apartment,\ncommanded her to be bound before him, and delivered her to his\ngrand vizier, with an order to strangle her, which was\naccordingly executed by that minister, without inquiring into her\ncrime. The enraged prince did not stop here, but cut off the\nheads of all the sultaness's ladies with his own hand. After this\nrigorous punishment, being persuaded that no woman was chaste, he\nresolved, in order to prevent the disloyalty of such as he should\nafterwards marry, to wed one every night, and have her strangled\nnext morning. Having imposed this cruel law upon himself, he\nswore that he would put it in force immediately after the\ndeparture of the king of Tartary, who shortly took leave of him,\nand being laden with magnificent presents, set forward on his\njourney.\n\nShaw-zummaun having departed, Shier-ear ordered his grand vizier\nto bring him the daughter of one of his generals. The vizier\nobeyed. The sultan lay with her, and putting her next morning\ninto his hands again in order to have her strangled, commanded\nhim to provide him another the next night. Whatever reluctance\nthe vizier might feel to put such orders in execution, as he owed\nblind obedience to the sultan his master, he was forced to\nsubmit. He brought him then the daughter of a subaltern, whom he\nalso put to death the next day. After her he brought a citizen's\ndaughter; and, in a word, there was every day a maid married, and\na wife murdered.\n\nThe rumour of this unparalleled barbarity occasioned a general\nconsternation in the city, where there was nothing but crying and\nlamentation. Here, a father in tears, and inconsolable for the\nloss of his daughter; and there, tender mothers dreating lest\ntheir daughters should share the same fate, filling the air with\ncries of distress and apprehension. So that, instead of the\ncommendation and blessings which the sultan had hitherto received\nfrom his subjects, their mouths were now filled with\nimprecations.\n\nThe grand vizier who, as has been already observed, was the\nunwilling executioner of this horrid course of injustice, had two\ndaughters, the elder called Scheherazade, and the younger\nDinarzade. The latter was highly accomplished; but the former\npossessed courage, wit, and penetration, infinitely above her\nsex. She had read much, and had so admirable a memory, that she\nnever forgot any thing she had read. She had successfully applied\nherself to philosophy, medicine, history, and the liberal arts;\nand her poetry excelled the compositions of the best writers of\nher time. Besides this, she was a perfect beauty, and all her\naccomplishments were crowned by solid virtue.\n\nThe vizier loved this daughter, so worthy of his affection. One\nday, as they were conversing together, she said to him, \"Father,\nI have one favour to beg of you, and most humbly pray you to\ngrant it.\" \"I will not refuse,\" answered he, \"provided it be just\nand reasonable.\" \"For the justice of it,\" resumed she, \"there can\nbe no question, and you may judge of this by the motive which\nobliges me to make the request. I wish to stop that barbarity\nwhich the sultan exercises upon the families of this city. I\nwould dispel those painful apprehensions which so many mothers\nfeel of losing their daughters in such a fatal manner.\" \"Your\ndesign, daughter,\" replied the vizier \"is very commendable; but\nthe evil you would remedy seems to me incurable. How do you\npropose to effect your purpose?\" \"Father,\" said Scheherazade,\n\"since by your means the sultan makes every day a new marriage, I\nconjure you, by the tender affection you bear me, to procure me\nthe honour of his bed.\" The vizier could not hear this without\nhorror. \"O heaven!\" he replied in a passion, \"have you lost your\nsenses, daughter, that you make such a dangerous request? You\nknow the sultan has sworn, that he will never lie above one night\nwith the same woman, and to command her to be killed the next\nmorning; would you then have me propose you to him? Consider well\nto what your indiscreet zeal will expose you.\" \"Yes, dear\nfather,\" replied the virtuous daughter, \"I know the risk I run;\nbut that does not alarm me. If I perish, my death will be\nglorious; and if I succeed, I shall do my country an important\nservice.\" \"No, no,\" said the vizier \"whatever you may offer to\ninduce me to let you throw yourself into such imminent danger, do\nnot imagine that I will ever consent. When the sultan shall\ncommand me to strike my poniard into your heart, alas! I must\nobey; and what an employment will that be for a father! Ah! if\nyou do not dread death, at least cherish some fears of afflicting\nme with the mortal grief of imbuing my hands in your blood.\"\n\"Once more father,\" replied Scheherazade, \"grant me the favour I\nsolicit.\" \"Your stubbornness,\" resumed the vizier \"will rouse my\nanger; why will you run headlong to your ruin? They who do not\nforesee the end of a dangerous enterprise can never conduct it to\na happy issue. I am afraid the same thing will happen to you as\nbefell the ass, which was well off, but could not remain so.\"\n\"What misfortune befell the ass?\" demanded Scheherazade. \"I will\ntell you,\" replied the vizier, \"if you will hear me.\"\n\n\n\n\n               The Ass, the Ox, and the Labourer.\n\n\n\nA very wealthy merchant possessed several country-houses, where\nhe kept a large number of cattle of every kind. He retired with\nhis wife and family to one of these estates, in order to improve\nit under his own direction. He had the gift of understanding the\nlanguage of beasts, but with this condition, that he should not,\non pain of death, interpret it to any one else. And this hindered\nhim from communicating to others what he learned by means of this\nfaculty.\n\nHe kept in the same stall an ox and an ass. One day as he sat\nnear them, and was amusing himself in looking at his children who\nwere playing about him, he heard the ox say to the ass,\n\"Sprightly, O! how happy do I think you, when I consider the ease\nyou enjoy, and the little labour that is required of you. You are\ncarefully rubbed down and washed, you have well-dressed corn, and\nfresh clean water. Your greatest business is to carry the\nmerchant, our master, when he has any little journey to make, and\nwere it not for that you would be perfectly idle. I am treated in\na very different manner, and my condition is as deplorable as\nyours is fortunate. Daylight no sooner appears than I am fastened\nto a plough, and made to work till night, which so fatigues me,\nthat sometimes my strength entirely fails. Besides, the labourer,\nwho is always behind me, beats me continually. By drawing the\nplough, my tail is all flayed; and in short, after having\nlaboured from morning to night, when I am brought in they give me\nnothing to eat but sorry dry beans, not so much as cleansed from\ndirt, or other food equally bad; and to heighten my misery, when\nI have filled my belly with such ordinary stuff, I am forced to\nlie all night in my own dung: so that you see I have reason to\nenvy your lot.\"\n\nThe ass did not interrupt the ox; but when he had concluded,\nanswered, \"They that called you a foolish beast did not lie. You\nare too simple; you suffer them to conduct you whither they\nplease, and shew no manner of resolution. In the mean time, what\nadvantage do you reap from all the indignities you suffer.\" You\nkill yourself for the ease, pleasure, and profit of those who\ngive you no thanks for your service. But they would not treat you\nso, if you had as much courage as strength. When they come to\nfasten you to the stall, why do you not resist? why do you not\ngore them with your horns, and shew that you arc angry, by\nstriking your foot against the ground? And, in short, why do not\nyou frighten them by bellowing aloud? Nature has furnished you\nwith means to command respect; but you do not use them. They\nbring you sorry beans and bad straw; eat none of them, only smell\nand then leave them. If you follow my advice, you will soon\nexperience a change, for which you will thank me.\"\n\nThe ox took the ass's advice in very good part, and owned he was\nmuch obliged to him. \"Dear Sprightly,\" added he, \"I will not fail\nto do as you direct, and you shall see how I will acquit myself.\"\nHere ended their conversation, of which the merchant lost not a\nword.\n\nEarly the next morning the labourer went for the ox. He fastened\nhim to the plough and conducted him to his usual work. The ox,\nwho had not forgotten the ass's counsel, was very troublesome and\nuntowardly all that day, and in the evening, when the labourer\nbrought him back to the stall, and began to fasten him, the\nmalicious beast instead of presenting his head willingly as he\nused to do, was restive, and drew back bellowing; and then made\nat the labourer, as if he would have gored him with his horns. In\na word, he did all that the ass had advised him. The day\nfollowing, the labourer came as usual, to take the ox to his\nlabour; but finding the stall full of beans, the straw that he\nhad put in the night before not touched, and the ox lying on the\nground with his legs stretched out, and panting in a strange\nmanner, he believed him to be unwell, pitied him, and thinking\nthat it was not proper to take him to work, went immediately and\nacquainted his master with his condition. The merchant perceiving\nthat the ox had followed all the mischievous advice of the ass,\ndetermined to punish the latter, and accordingly ordered the\nlabourer to go and put him in the ox's place, and to he sure to\nwork him hard. The labourer did as he was desired. The ass was\nforced to draw the plough all that day, which fatigued him so\nmuch the more, as he was not accustomed to that kind of labour;\nbesides he had been so soundly beaten, that he could scarcely\nstand when he came back.\n\nMeanwhile, the ox was mightily pleased; he ate up all that was in\nhis stall, and rested himself the whole day. He rejoiced that he\nhad followed the ass's advice, blessed him a thousand times for\nthe kindness he had done him, and did not fail to express his\nobligations when the ass had returned. The ass made no reply, so\nvexed was he at the ill treatment he had received; but he said\nwithin himself, \"It is by my own imprudence I have brought this\nmisfortune upon myself. I lived happily, every thing smiled upon\nme; I had all that I could wish; it is my own fault that I am\nbrought to this miserable condition; and if I cannot contrive\nsome way to get out of it, I am certainly undone.\" As he spoke,\nhis strength was so much exhausted that he fell down in his\nstall, as if he had been half dead.\n\nHere the grand vizier, himself to Scheherazade, and said,\n\"Daughter, you act just like this ass; you will expose yourself\nto destruction by your erroneous policy. Take my advice, remain\nquiet, and do not seek to hasten your death.\" \"Father,\" replied\nScheherazade, \"the example you have set before me will not induce\nme to change my resolution. I will never cease importuning you\nuntil you present me to the sultan as his bride.\" The vizier,\nperceiving that she persisted in her demand, replied, \"Alas!\nthen, since you will continue obstinate, I shall be obliged to\ntreat you in the same manner as the merchant whom I before\nreferred to treated his wife a short time after.\"\n\nThe merchant understanding that the ass was in a lamentable\ncondition, was desirous of knowing what passed between him and\nthe ox, therefore after supper he went out by moonlight, and sat\ndown by them, his wife bearing him company. After his arrival, he\nheard the ass say to the ox \"Comrade, tell me, I pray you, what\nyou intend to do to-morrow, when the labourer brings you meat?\"\n\"What will I do?\" replied the ox, \"I will continue to act as you\ntaught me. I will draw back from him and threaten him with my\nhorns, as I did yesterday: I will feign myself ill, and at the\npoint of death.\" \"Beware of that,\" replied the ass, \"it will ruin\nyou; for as I came home this evening, I heard the merchant, our\nmaster, say something that makes me tremble for you.\" \"Alas! what\ndid you hear?\" demanded the ox; \"as you love me, withhold nothing\nfrom me, my dear Sprightly.\" \"Our master,\" replied the ass,\n\"addressed himself thus to the labourer: \u0091Since the ox does not\neat, and is not able to work, I would have him killed to-morrow,\nand we will give his flesh as an alms to the poor for God's sake,\nas for the skin, that will be of use to us, and I would have you\ngive it the currier to dress; therefore be sure to send for the\nbutcher.' This is what I had to tell you,\" said the ass. \"The\ninterest I feel in your preservation, and my friendship for you,\nobliged me to make it known to you, and to give you new advice.\nAs soon as they bring you your bran and straw, rise up and eat\nheartily. Our master will by this think that you are recovered,\nand no doubt will recall his orders for killing you; but, if you\nact otherwise, you will certainly be slaughtered.\"\n\nThis discourse had the effect which the ass designed. The ox was\ngreatly alarmed, and bellowed for fear. The merchant, who heard\nthe conversation very attentively, fell into a loud fit of\nlaughter. His wife was greatly surprised, and asked, \"Pray,\nhusband, tell me what you laugh at so heartily, that I may laugh\nwith you.\" \"Wife,\" replied he, \"you must content yourself with\nhearing me laugh.\" \"No,\" returned she, \"I will know the reason.\"\n\"I cannot afford you that satisfaction,\" he, \"and can only inform\nyou that I laugh at what our ass just now said to the ox. The\nrest is a secret, which I am not allowed to reveal.\" \"What,\"\ndemanded she \"hinders you from revealing the secret?\" \"If I tell\nit you,\" replied he, \"I shall forfeit my life.\" \"You only jeer\nme,\" cried his wife, \"what you would have me believe cannot be\ntrue. If you do not directly satisfy me as to what you laugh at,\nand tell me what the ox and the ass said to one another, I swear\nby heaven that you and I shall never bed together again.\"\n\nHaving spoken thus, she went into the house, and seating herself\nin a corner, cried there all night. Her husband lay alone, and\nfinding next morning that she continued in the same humour, told\nher, she was very foolish to afflict herself in that manner; that\nthe thing was not worth so much; that it concerned her very\nlittle to know while it was of the utmost consequence to him to\nkeep the secret: \"therefore,\" continued he, \"I conjure you to\nthink no more of it.\" \"I shall still think so much of it,\"\nreplied she, \"as never to forbear weeping till you have satisfied\nmy curiosity.\" \"But I tell you very seriously,\" answered he,\n\"that it will cost me my life if I yield to your indiscreet\nsolicitations.\" \"Let what will happen,\" said she, \"I do insist\nupon it.\" \"I perceive,\" resumed the merchant, \"that it is\nimpossible to bring you to reason, and since I foresee that you\nwill occasion your own death by your obstinacy, I will call in\nyour children, that they may see you before you die.\" Accordingly\nhe called for them, and sent for her father and mother, and other\nrelations. When they were come and had heard the reason of their\nbeing summoned, they did all they could to convince her that she\nwas in the wrong, but to no purpose: she told them she would\nrather die than yield that point to her husband. Her father and\nmother spoke to her by herself, and told her that what she\ndesired to know was of no importance to her; but they could\nproduce no effect upon her, either by their authority or\nintreaties. When her children saw that nothing would prevail to\ndraw her out of that sullen temper, they wept bitterly. The\nmerchant himself was half frantic, and almost ready to risk his\nown life to save that of his wife, whom he sincerely loved.\n\nThe merchant had fifty hens and one cock, with a dog that gave\ngood heed to all that passed. While the merchant was considering\nwhat he had best do, he saw his dog run towards the cock as he\nwas treading a hen, and heard him say to him: \"Cock, I am sure\nheaven will not let you live long; are you not ashamed to ad thus\nto-day?\" The cock standing up on tiptoe, answered fiercely: \"And\nwhy not to-day as well as other days?\" \"If you do not know,\"\nreplied the dog, \"then I will tell you, that this day our master\nis in great perplexity. His wife would have him reveal a secret\nwhich is of such a nature, that the disclosure would cost him his\nlife. Things are come to that pass, that it is to be feared he\nwill scarcely have resolution enough to resist his wife's\nobstinacy; for he loves her, and is affected by the tears she\ncontinually sheds. We are all alarmed at his situation, while you\nonly insult our melancholy, and have the impudence to divert\nyourself with your hens.\"\n\nThe cock answered the dog's reproof thus: \"What, has our master\nso little sense? he has but one wife, and cannot govern her, and\nthough I have fifty, I make them all do what I please. Let him\nuse his reason, he will soon find a way to rid himself of his\ntrouble.\" \"How?\" demanded the dog; \"what would you have him do?\"\n\"Let him go into the room where his wife is,\" resumed the cock,\n\"lock the door, and take a stick and thrash her well; and I will\nanswer for it, that will bring her to her senses, and make her\nforbear to importune him to discover what he ought not to\nreveal.\" The merchant had no sooner heard what the cock said,\nthan he took up a stick, went to his wife, whom he found still\ncrying, and shutting the door, belaboured her so soundly, that\nshe cried out, \"Enough, husband, enough, forbear, and I will\nnever ask the question more.\" Upon this, perceiving that she\nrepented of her impertinent curiosity, he desisted; and opening\nthe door, her friends came in, were glad to find her cured of her\nobstinacy, and complimented her husband upon this happy expedient\nto bring his wife to reason.\n\n\"Daughter,\" added the grand vizier, \"you deserve to be treated as\nthe merchant treated his wife.\"\n\n\"Father,\" replied Scheherazade, \"I beg you would not take it ill\nthat I persist in my opinion. I am nothing moved by the story of\nthis woman. I could relate many, to persuade you that you ought\nnot to oppose my design. Besides, pardon me for declaring, that\nyour opposition is vain; for if your paternal affection should\nhinder you from granting my request, I will go and offer myself\nto the sultan.\" In short, the father, being overcome by the\nresolution of his daughter, yielded to her importunity, and\nthough he was much grieved that he could not divert her from so\nfatal a resolution, he went instantly to acquaint the sultan,\nthat next night he would bring him Scheherazade.\n\nThe sultan was much surprized at the sacrifice which the grand\nvizier proposed to make. \"How could you\", said he, \"resolve to\nbring me your own daughter?\" \"Sir,\" answered the vizier, \"it is\nher own offer. The sad destiny that awaits her could not\nintimidate her; she prefers the honour of being your majesty's\nwile for one night, to her life.\" \"But do not act under a\nmistake, vizier,\" said the sultan; \"to-morrow. when I place\nScheherazade in your hands, I expect you will put her to death;\nand if you fail, I swear that your own life shall answer.\" \"Sir,\"\nrejoined the vizier \"my heart without doubt will be full of grief\nto execute your commands; but it is to no purpose for nature to\nmurmur. Though I am her father, I will answer for the fidelity of\nmy hand to obey your order.\" Shier-ear accepted his minister's\noffer, and told him he might bring his daughter when he pleased.\n\nT'he grand vizicr went with the intelligence to Schcherazade, who\nreceived it with as much joy as if it had been the most agreeable\ninformation she could have received. She thanked her father for\nhaving so greatly obliged her; and perceiving that he was\noverwhelmed with grief, told him for his consolation, that she\nhoped he would never repent of having married her to the sultan;\nand that, on the contrary, he should have reason to rejoice at\nhis compliance all his days.\n\nHer business now was to adorn herself to appear before the\nsultan; but before she went, she took her sister Dinarzade apart,\nand said to her, \"My dear sister, I have need of your assistance\nin a matter of great importance, and must pray you not to deny it\nme. My father is going to conduct me to the sultan; do not let\nthis alarm you, but hear me with patience. As soon as I am in his\npresence, I will pray him to allow you to lie in the bride-\nchamber, that I may enjoy your company this one night more. If I\nobtain that favour, as I hope to do, remember to awake me to-\nmorrow an hour before day, and to address me in these or some\nsuch words: \u0091My sister, if you be not asleep, I pray you that\ntill day-break, which will be very shortly, you will relate to me\none of the entertaining stories of which you have read so many.'\nI will immediately tell you one; and I hope by this means to\ndeliver the city from the consternation it is under at present.\"\nDinarzade answered that she would with pleasure act as she\nrequired her.\n\nThe grand vizier conducted Schcherazade to the palace, and\nretired, after having introduced her into the sultan's apartment.\nAs soon as the sultan was left alone with her, he ordered her to\nuncover her face: he found her so beautiful that he was perfectly\ncharmed; but perceiving her to be in tears, demanded the reason.\n\"Sir,\" answered Scheherazade, \"I have a sister who loves me\ntenderly, and I could wish that she might be allowed to pass the\nnight in this chamber, that I might see her, and once more bid\nher adieu. Will you be pleased to allow me the consolation of\ngiving her this last testimony of my affection?\" Shier-ear having\nconsented, Dinarzade was sent for, who came with all possible\nexpedition.\n\nAn hour before day, Dinarzade failed not to do as her sister had\nordered. \"My dear sister,\" cried she, \"if you be not asleep, I\npray that until daybreak, which will be very shortly, you will\ntell me one of those pleasant stories you have read. Alas! this\nmay perhaps be the last time that I shall enjoy that pleasure.\"\n\nScheherazade, instead of answering her sister, addressed herself\nto the sultan: \"Sir, will your majesty be pleased to allow me to\nafford my sister this satisfaction?\" \"With all my heart,\" replied\nthe sultan. Scheherazade then bade her sister attend, and\nafterwards, addressing herself to Shier-ear, proceeded as\nfollows.\n\n\n\n\n                  THE MERCHANT AND THE GENIE.\n\n\n\nThere was formerly a merchant who possessed much property in\nlands, goods, and money, and had a great number of clerks,\nfactors, and slaves. He was obliged from time to time to visit\nhis correspondents on business; and one day being under the\nnecessity of going a long journey on an affair of importance, he\ntook horse, and carried with him a wallet containing biscuits and\ndates, because he had a great desert to pass over, where he could\nprocure no sort of provisions. He arrived without any accident at\nthe end of his journey; and having dispatched his affairs, took\nhorse again, in order to return home.\n\nThe fourth day of his journey, he was so much incommoded by the\nheat of the sun, and the reflection of that heat from the earth,\nthat he turned out of the road, to refresh himself under some\ntrees. He found at the root of a large tree a fountain of very\nclear running water. Having alighted, he tied his horse to a\nbranch, and sitting down by the fountain, took some biscuits and\ndates out of his wallet. As he ate his dates, he threw the shells\ncarelessly in different directions. When he had finished his\nrepast, being a good Moosulmaun, he washed his hands, face, and\nfeet, and said his prayers. Before he had finished, and while he\nwas yet on his knees, he saw a genie, white with age, and of a\nmonstrous bulk, advancing towards him with a cimeter in his hand.\nThe genie spoke to him in a terrible voice: \"Rise, that I may\nkill thee with this cimeter, as thou hast killed my son;\" and\naccompanied these words with a frightful cry. The merchant being\nas much alarmed at the hideous shape of the monster as at his\nthreatening language, answered him, trembling, \"Alas! my good\nlord, of what crime can I be guilty towards you, that you should\ntake away my life?\" \"I will,\" replied the genie, \"kill thee, as\nthou hast killed my son.\" \"Heavens,\" exclaimed the merchant, \"how\ncould I kill your son? I never knew, never saw him.\" \"Did not you\nsit down when you came hither?\" demanded the genie: \"did you not\ntake dates out of your wallet, and as you ate them, did not you\nthrow the shells about in different directions?\" \"I did all that\nyou say,\" answered the merchant, \"I cannot deny it.\" \"If it be\nso,\" resumed the genie, \"I tell thee that thou hast killed my\nson; and in this manner: When thou wert throwing the shells\nabout, my son was passing by, and thou didst throw one into his\neye, which killed him; therefore I must kill thee.\" \"Ah! my lord!\npardon me!\" cried the merchant. \"No pardon,\" exclaimed the genie,\n\"no mercy. Is it not just to kill him that has killed another?\"\n\"I agree it is,\" replied the merchant, \"but certainly I never\nkilled your son; and if I have, it was unknown to me, and I did\nit innocently; I beg you therefore to pardon me, and suffer me to\nlive.\" \"No, no,\" returned the genie, persisting in his\nresolution, \"I must kill thee, since thou hast killed my son.\"\nThen taking the merchant by the arm, he threw him with his face\non the ground, and lifted up his cimeter to cut off his head.\n\nThe merchant, with tears, protested he was innocent, bewailed his\nwife and children, and supplicated the genie, in the most moving\nexpressions. The genie, with his cimeter still lifted up, had the\npatience to hear his unfortunate victims to the end of his\nlamentations, but would not relent. \"All this whining,\" said the\nmonster, \"is to no purpose; though you should shed tears of\nblood, they should not hinder me from killing thee, as thou hast\nkilled my son.\" \"What!\" exclaimed the merchant, \"can nothing\nprevail with you? Will you absolutely take away the life of a\npoor innocent?\" \"Yes,\" replied the genie, \"I am resolved.\"\n\nAs soon as she had spoken these words, perceiving it was day, and\nknowing that the sultan rose early in the morning to say his\nprayers, and hold his council, Scheherazade discontinued her\nstory. \"Dear sister,\" said Dinarzade, \"what a wonderful story is\nthis!\" \"The remainder of it,\" replied Scheherazade \"is more\nsurprising, and you will be of this opinion, if the sultan will\nbut permit me to live over this day, and allow me to proceed with\nthe relation the ensuing night.\" Shier-ear, who had listened to\nScheherazade with much interest, said to himself, \"I will wait\ntill to-morrow, for I can at any time put her to death when she\nhas concluded her story.\" Having thus resolved not to put\nScheherazade to death that day, he rose and went to his prayers,\nand to attend his council.\n\nDuring this time the grand vizier was in the utmost distress.\nInstead of sleeping, he spent the night in sighs and groans,\nbewailing the lot of his daughter, of whom he believed he should\nhimself shortly be the executioner. As, with this melancholy\nprospect before him, he dreaded to meet the sultan, he was\nagreeably surprised when he found the prince entered the council\nchamber without giving him the fatal orders he expected.\n\nThe sultan, according to his custom, spent the day in regulating\nhis affairs; and when the night had closed in, retired with\nScheherazade. The next morning before day, Dinarzade failed not\nto call to her sister: \"My dear sister, if you be not asleep, I\npray you till day-break, which is very near, to go on with the\nstory you began last night.\" The sultan, without waiting for\nScheherazade to ask his permission, bade her proceed with the\nstory of the genie and the merchant; upon which Scheherazade\ncontinued her relation as follows.  [FN: In the original work\nScheherazade continually breaks off to ask the sultan to spare\nher life for another day, that she may finish the story she is\nrelating.  As these interruptions considerably interfere with the\ncontinued interest of the stories, it has been deemed advisable\nto omit them.]\n\nWhen the merchant saw that the genie was going to cut off his\nhead, he cried out aloud to him, \"For heaven's sake hold your\nhand! Allow me one word. Have the goodness to grant me some\nrespite, to bid my wife and children adieu, and to divide my\nestate among them by will, that they may not go to law after my\ndeath. When I have done this, I will come back and submit to\nwhatever you shall please to command.\" \"But,\" said the genie, \"if\nI grant you the time you ask, I doubt you will never return?\" \"If\nyou will believe my oath,\" answered the merchant, \"I swear by all\nthat is sacred, that I will come and meet you here without fail.\"\n\"What time do you require then?\" demanded the genie. \"I ask a\nyear,\" said the merchant; \"I cannot in less settle my affairs,\nand prepare myself to die without regret. But I promise you, that\nthis day twelve months I will return under these trees, to put\nmyself into your hands.\" \"Do you take heaven to be witness to\nthis promise?\" said the genie. \"I do,\" answered the merchant,\n\"and you may rely on my oath.\" Upon this the genie left him near\nthe fountain, and disappeared.\n\nThe merchant being recovered from his terror, mounted his horse,\nand proceeded on his journey, glad on the one hand that he had\nescaped so great a danger, but grieved on the other, when he\nreflected on his fatal oath. When he reached home, his wife and\nchildren received him with all the demonstrations of perfect joy.\nBut he, instead of returning their caresses, wept so bitterly,\nthat his family apprehended something calamitous had befallen\nhim. His wife enquire reason of his excessive grief and tears;\n\"We are all overjoyed,\" said she, \"at your return; but you alarm\nus by your lamentations; pray tell us the cause of your sorrow.\"\n\"Alas!\" replied the husband, \"I have but a year to live.\" He then\nrelated what had passed betwixt him and the genie, and informed\nher that he had given him his oath to return at the end of the\nyear, to receive death from his hands.\n\nWhen they heard this afflicting intelligence, they all began to\nlament in the most distressing manner. His wife uttered the most\npiteous cries, beat her face, and tore her hair. The children,\nall in tears, made the house resound with their groans; and the\nfather, not being able to resist the impulse of nature, mingled\nhis tears with theirs: so that, in a word, they exhibited the\nmost affecting spectacle possible.\n\nOn the following morning the merchant applied himself to put his\naffairs in order; and first of all to pay his debts. He made\npresents to his friends, gave liberal alms to the poor, set his\nslaves of both sexes at liberty, divided his property among his\nchildren, appointed guardians for such of them as were not of\nage; and after restoring to his wife all that was due to her by\ntheir marriage contract, he gave her in addition as much as the\nlaw would allow him.\n\nAt last the year expired, and he was obliged to depart. He put\nhis burial clothes in his wallet; but when he came to bid his\nwife and children adieu, their grief surpassed description. They\ncould not reconcile their minds to the separation, but resolved\nto go and die with him. When, however, it became necessary for\nhim to tear himself from these dear objects, he addressed them in\nthe following terms: \"My dear wife and children, I obey the will\nof heaven in quitting you. Follow my example, submit with\nfortitude to this necessity, and consider that it is the destiny\nof man to die.\" Having thus spoken, he went out of the hearing of\nthe cries of his family; and pursuing his journey, arrived on the\nday appointed at the place where he had promised to meet the\ngenie. He alighted, and seating himself down by the fountain,\nwaited the coming of the genie, with all the sorrow imaginable.\nWhilst he languished under this painful expectation, an old man\nleading a hind appeared and drew near him. After they had saluted\none another, the old man said to him, \"Brother, may I ask why you\nare come into this desert place, which is possessed solely by\nevil spirits, and where consequently you cannot be safe? From the\nbeautiful trees which are seen here, one might indeed suppose the\nplace inhabited; but it is in reality a wilderness, where it is\ndangerous to remain long.\"\n\nThe merchant satisfied his curiosity, and related to him the\nadventure which obliged him to be there. The old man listened\nwith astonishment, and when he had done, exclaimed, \"This is the\nmost surprising thing in the world! and you are bound by the most\ninviolable oath. However, I will be witness of your interview\nwith the genie.\" He then seated himself by the merchant, and they\nentered into conversation.\n\n\"But I see day,\" said Scheherazade, \"and must leave off; yet the\nbest of the story is to come.\" The sultan resolving to hear the\nend of it, suffered her to live that day also.\n\nThe next morning Dinarzade made the same request to her sister as\nbefore: \"My dear sister,\" said she, \"if you be not asleep, tell\nme one of those pleasant stories that you have read.\" But the\nsultan, wishing to learn what followed betwixt the merchant and\nthe genie, bade her proceed with that, which she did as follows.\n\nSir, while the merchant and the old man who led the hind were\nconversing, they saw another old man coming towards them,\nfollowed by two black dogs; after they had saluted one another,\nhe asked them what they did in that place? The old man with the\nhind told him the adventure of the merchant and genie, with all\nthat had passed between them, particularly the merchant's oath.\nHe added, that it was the day agreed on, and that he was resolved\nto stay and see the issue.\n\nThe second old man thinking it also worth his curiosity, resolved\nto do the same, and took his seat by them. They had scarcely\nbegun to converse together, when there arrived a third old man\nleading a mule. He addressed himself to the two former, and asked\nwhy the merchant who sat with them looked so melancholy? They\ntold him the reason, which appeared to him so extraordinary, that\nhe also resolved to witness the result; and for that purpose sat\ndown with them.\n\nIn a short time they perceived a thick vapour, like a cloud of\ndust raised by a whirlwind, advancing towards them. When it had\ncome up to them it suddenly vanished, and the genie appeared;\nwho, without saluting them, went to the merchant with a drawn\ncimeter, and taking him by the arm, said, \"Get thee up, that I\nmay kill thee, as thou didst my son.\" The merchant and the three\nold men began to lament and fill the air with their cries.\n\nWhen the old man who led the hind saw the genie lay hold of the\nmerchant, and about to kill him, he threw himself at the feet of\nthe monster, and kissing them, said to him, \"Prince of genies, I\nmost humbly request you to suspend your anger, and do me the\nfavour to hear me. I will tell you the history of my life, and of\nthe hind you see; and if you think it more wonderful and\nsurprising than the adventure of the merchant, I hope you will\npardon the unfortunate man a third of his offence.\" The genie\ntook some time to deliberate on this proposal, but answered at\nlast, \"Well then, I agree.\"\n\n\n\n\n          The Story of the First Old Man and the Hind.\n\n\n\nI shall begin my story then; listen to me, I pray you, with\nattention. This hind you see is my cousin; nay, what is more, my\nwife. She was only twelve years of age when I married her, so\nthat I may justly say, she ought to regard me equally as her\nfather, her kinsman, and her husband.\n\nWe lived together twenty years, without any children. Her\nbarrenness did not effect any change in my love; I still treated\nher with much kindness and affection. My desire of having\nchildren only induced me to purchase a slave, by whom I had a\nson, who was extremely promising. My wife being jealous,\ncherished a hatred for both mother and child, but concealed her\naversion so well, that I knew nothing of it till it was too late.\n\nMean time my son grew up, and was ten years old, when I was\nobliged to undertake a long journey. Before I went, I recommended\nto my wife, of whom I had no mistrust, the slave and her son, and\nprayed her to take care of them during my absence, which was to\nbe for a whole year. She however employed that time to satisfy\nher hatred. She applied herself to magic, and when she had learnt\nenough of that diabolical art to execute her horrible design, the\nwretch carried my son to a desolate place, where, by her\nenchantments, she changed him into a calf, and gave him to my\nfarmer to fatten, pretending she had bought him. Her enmity did\nnot stop at this abominable action, but she likewise changed the\nslave into a cow, and gave her also to my farmer.\n\nAt my return, I enquired for the mother and child. \"Your slave,\"\nsaid she, \"is dead; and as for your son, I know not what is\nbecome of him, I have not seen him this two months.\" I was\nafflicted at the death of the slave, but as she informed me my\nson had only disappeared, I was in hopes he would shortly return.\nHowever, eight months passed, and I heard nothing of him. When\nthe festival of the great Bairam was to be celebrated, I sent to\nmy farmer for one of the fattest cows to sacrifice. He\naccordingly sent me one, and the cow which was brought me proved\nto be my slave, the unfortunate mother of my son. I bound her,\nbut as I was going to sacrifice her, she bellowed piteously, and\nI could perceive tears streaming from her eyes. This seemed to me\nvery extraordinary, and finding myself moved with compassion, I\ncould not find in my heart to give her a blow, but ordered my\nfarmer to get me another.\n\nMy wife, who was present, was enraged at my tenderness, and\nresisting an order which disappointed her malice, she cried out,\n\"What are you doing, husband? Sacrifice that cow; your farmer has\nnot a finer, nor one fitter for the festival.\" Out of deference\nto my wife, I came again to the cow, and combating my compassion,\nwhich suspended the sacrifice, was going to give her the fatal\nblow, when the victim redoubling her tears, and bellowing,\ndisarmed me a second time. I then put the mallet into the\nfarmer's hands, and desired him to take it and sacrifice her\nhimself, for her tears and bellowing pierced my heart.\n\nThe farmer, less compassionate than myself; sacrificed her; but\nwhen he flayed her, found her to be nothing except bones, though\nto she seemed very fat. \"Take her yourself,\" said I to him,\n\"dispose of her in alms, or any way you please: and if you have a\nvery fat calf, bring it me in her stead.\" I did not enquire what\nhe did with the cow, but soon after he had taken her away, he\nreturned with a fat calf. Though I knew not the calf was my son,\nyet I could not forbear being moved at the sight of him. On his\npart, as soon as he beheld me, he made so great an effort to come\nnear me, that he broke his cord, threw himself at my feet, with\nhis head against the ground, as if he meant to excite my\ncompassion, conjuring me not to be so cruel as to take his life;\nand did as much as was possible for him, to signify that he was\nmy son.\n\nI was more surprised and affected with this action, than with the\ntears of the cow. I felt a tender pity, which interested me on\nhis behalf, or rather, nature did its duty. \"Go,\" said I to the\nfarmer, \"carry home that calf, take great care of him, and bring\nme another in his stead immediately.\"\n\nAs soon as my wife heard me give this order, she exclaimed, \"What\nare you about, husband? Take my advice, sacrifice no other calf\nbut that.\" \"Wife,\" I replied, \"I will not sacrifice him, I will\nspare him, and pray do not you oppose me.\" The wicked woman had\nno regard to my wishes; she hated my son too much to consent that\nI should save him. I tied the poor creature, and taking up the\nfatal knife, was going to plunge it into my son's throat, when\nturning his eyes bathed with tears, in a languishing manner,\ntowards me, he affected me so much that I had not strength to\nkill him. I let the knife fall, and told my wife positively that\nI would have another calf to sacrifice, and not that. She used\nall her endeavours to persuade me to change my resolution; but I\ncontinued firm, and pacified her a little, by promising that I\nwould sacrifice him against the Bairam of the following year.\n\nThe next morning my farmer desired to speak with me alone. \"I\ncome,\" said he, \"to communicate to you a piece of intelligence,\nfor which I hope you will return me thanks. I have a daughter\nthat has some skill in magic. Yesterday, as I carried back the\ncalf which you would not sacrifice, I perceived she laughed when\nshe saw him, and in a moment after fell a weeping. I asked her\nwhy she acted two such opposite parts at one and the same time. \u0091\nrather,' replied she, \u0091 the calf you bring back is our landlord's\nson; I laughed for joy to see him still alive, and wept at the\nremembrance of the sacrifice that was made the other day of his\nmother, who was changed into a cow. These two metamorphoses were\nmade by the enchantments of our master's wife, who hated both the\nmother and son.' This is what my daughter told me,\" said the\nfarmer, \"and I come to acquaint you with it.\"\n\nI leave you to judge how much I was surprised. I went immediately\nto my farmer, to speak to his daughter myself. As soon as I\narrived, I went forthwith to the stall where my son was kept; he\ncould not return my embraces, but received them in such a manner,\nas fully satisfied me he was my son.\n\nThe farmer's daughter then came to us: \"My good maid,\" said I,\n\"can you restore my son to his former shape?\" \"Yes,\" she replied,\n\"I can.\" \"Ah!\" said I, \"if you do, I will make you mistress of\nall my fortune.\" She answered me, smiling, \"You are our master,\nand I well know what I owe to you; but I cannot restore your son\nto his former shape, except on two conditions: the first is, that\nyou give him to me for my husband; and the second, that you allow\nme to punish the person who changed him into a calf.\" \"As to the\nfirst,\" I replied, \"I agree with all my heart: nay, I promise you\nmore, a considerable fortune for yourself, independently of what\nI design for my son: in a word, you shall see how I will reward\nthe great service I expect from you. As to what relates to my\nwife, I also agree; a person who has been capable of committing\nsuch a criminal action, justly deserves to be punished. I leave\nher to your disposal, only I must pray you not to take her life.\"\n\"I am going then,\" answered she, \"to treat her as she treated\nyour son.\" \"To this I consent,\" said I, \"provided you first of\nall restore to me my son.\"\n\nThe damsel then took a vessel full of water, pronounced over it\nwords that I did not understand, and addressing herself to the\ncalf, \"O calf, if thou west created by the almighty and sovereign\nmaster of the world such as thou appearest at this time, continue\nin that form; but if thou be a man, and art changed into a calf\nby enchantment, return to thy natural shape, by the permission of\nthe sovereign Creator.\" As she spoke, she threw water upon him,\nand in an instant he recovered his natural form.\n\n\"My son, my dear son,\" cried I, immediately embracing him with\nsuch a transport of joy that I knew not what I was doing, \"it is\nheaven that hath sent us this young maid, to remove the horrible\ncharm by which you were enchanted, and to avenge the injury done\nto you and your mother. I doubt not but in acknowledgment you\nwill make your deliverer your wife, as I have promised.\" He\njoyfully consented; but before they married, she changed my wife\ninto a hind; and this is she whom you see here. I desired she\nmight have this shape, rather than another less agreeable, that\nwe might see her in the family without horror.\n\nSince that time, my son is become a widower, and gone to travel.\nIt being now several years since I heard of him, I am come abroad\nto inquire after him; and not being willing to trust anybody with\nmy wife, till I should return home, I thought fit to take her\neverywhere with me.\n\n\"This is the history of myself and this hind: is it not one of\nthe most wonderful and surprising?\" \"I admit it is,\" said the\ngenie, \"and on that account forgive the merchant one third of his\ncrime.\"\n\nWhen the first old man had finished his story, the second, who\nled the two black dogs, addressed the genie, and said: \"I am\ngoing to tell you what happened to me, and these two black dogs\nyou see by me; and I am certain you will say, that my story is\nyet more surprising than that which you have just heard. But when\nI have done this, I hope you will be pleased to pardon the\nmerchant another third of his offence.\" \"I will,\" replied the\ngenie, \"provided your story surpass that of the hind.\" Then the\nsecond old man began in this manner--\n\n\n\n\n    The Story of the Second old Man and the Two Black Dogs.\n\n\n\nGreat prince of genies, you must know that we are three brothers,\nthe two black dogs and myself. Our father, when he died, left\neach of us one thousand sequins. With that sum, we all became\nmerchants. A little time after we had opened shop, my eldest\nbrother, one of these two dogs, resolved to travel and trade in\nforeign countries. With this view, he sold his estate, and bought\ngoods suited to the trade intended to follow.\n\nHe went away, and was absent a whole year. At the expiration of\nthis time, a poor man, who I thought had come to ask alms,\npresented himself before me in my shop. I said to him, \"God help\nyou.\" He returned my salutation, and continued, \"Is it possible\nyou do not know me?\" Upon this I looked at him narrowly, and\nrecognised him: \"Ah, brother,\" cried I, embracing him, \"how could\nI know you in this condition?\" I made him come into my house, and\nasked him concerning his health and the success of his travels.\n\"Do not ask me that question,\" said he; \"when you see me, you see\nall: it would only renew my grief, to relate to you the\nparticulars of the misfortunes I have experienced since I left\nyou, which have reduced me to my present condition.\"\n\nI immediately shut up my shop, and taking him to a bath, gave him\nthe best clothes I had. Finding on examining my books, that I had\ndoubled my stock, that is to say, that I was worth two thousand\nsequins, I gave him one half; \"With that,\" said I, \"brother, you\nmay make up your loss.\" He joyfully accepted the present, and\nhaving repaired his fortunes, we lived together, as before.\n\nSome time after, my second brother, who is the other of these two\ndogs, would also sell his estate. His elder brother and myself\ndid all we could to divert him from his purpose, but without\neffect. He disposed of it, and with the money bought such goods\nas were suitable to the trade which he designed to follow. He\njoined a caravan, and departed. At the end of the year he\nreturned in the same condition as my other brother. Having myself\nby this time gained another thousand sequins, I made him a\npresent of them. With this sum he furnished his shop, and\ncontinued his trade.\n\nSome time after, one of my brothers came to me to propose that I\nshould join them in a trading voyage; I immediately declined.\n\"You have travelled,\" said I, \"and what have you gained by it?\nWho can assure me, that I shall be more successful than you have\nbeen?\" It was in vain that they urged open me all the\nconsiderations they thought likely to gain me over to their\ndesign, for I constantly refused; but after having resisted their\nsolicitations five whole years, they importuned me so much, that\nat last they overcame my resolution. When, however, the time\narrived that we were to make preparations for our voyage, to buy\nthe goods necessary to the undertaking, I found they had spent\nall, and had not one dirrim left of the thousand sequins I had\ngiven to each of them. I did not, on this account, upbraid them.\nOn the contrary, my stock being still six thousand sequins, I\nshared the half of it with them, telling them, \"My brothers, we\nmust venture these three thousand sequins, and hide the rest in\nsome secure place: that in case our voyage be not more successful\nthan yours was formerly, we may have wherewith to assist us, and\nto enable us to follow our ancient way of living.\" I gave each of\nthem a thousand sequins, and keeping as much for myself, I buried\nthe other three thousand in a corner of my house. We purchased\ngoods, and having embarked them on board a vessel, which we\nfreighted betwixt us, we put to sea with a favourable wind.\n\nAfter two months sail, we arrived happily at port, where we\nlanded, and had a very good market for our goods. I, especially,\nsold mine so well, that I gained ten to one. With the produce we\nbought commodities of that country, to carry back with us for\nsale.\n\nWhen we were ready to embark on our return, I met on the sea-\nshore a lady, handsome enough, but poorly clad. She walked up to\nme gracefully, kissed my hand, besought me with the greatest\nearnestness imaginable to marry her, and take her along with me.\nI made some difficulty to agree to this proposal; but she urged\nso many things to persuade me that I ought not to object to her\non account of her poverty, and that I should have all the reason\nin the world to be satisfied with her conduct, that at last I\nyielded. I ordered proper apparel to be made for her; and after\nhaving married her, according to form, I took her on board, and\nwe set sail. I found my wife possessed so many good qualities,\nthat my love to her every day increased. In the mean time my two\nbrothers, who had not managed their affairs as successfully as I\nhad mine, envied my prosperity; and suffered their feelings to\ncarry them so far, that they conspired against my life; and one\nnight, when my wife and I were asleep, threw us both into the\nsea.\n\nMy wife proved to be a fairy, and, by consequence, a genie, so\nthat she could not be drowned; but for me, it is certain I must\nhave perished, without her help. I had scarcely fallen into the\nwater, when she took me up, and carried me to an island. When day\nappeared, she said to me, \"You see, husband, that by saving your\nlife, I have not rewarded you ill for your kindness to me. You\nmust know, that I am a fairy, and being upon the sea-shore, when\nyou were going to embark, I felt a strong desire to have you for\nmy husband; I had a mind to try your goodness, and presented\nmyself before you in disguise. You have dealt generously by me,\nand I am glad of an opportunity of returning my acknowledgment.\nBut I am incensed against your brothers, and nothing will satisfy\nme but their lives.\"\n\nI listened to this discourse with admiration; I thanked the fairy\nthe best way I could, for the great kindness she had done me;\n\"But, Madam,\" said I, \"as for my brothers, I beg you to pardon\nthem; whatever cause of resentment they have given me, I am not\ncruel enough to desire their death.\" I then informed her what I\nhad done for them, but this increased her indignation; and she\nexclaimed, \"I must immediately pursue those ungrateful traitors,\nand take speedy vengeance on them. I will destroy their vessel,\nand sink them into the bottom of the sea.\" \"My good lady,\"\nreplied I, \"for heaven's sake forbear; moderate your anger,\nconsider that they are my brothers, and that we ought to return\ngood for evil.\"\n\nI pacified her by these words; and as soon as I had concluded,\nshe transported me in a moment from the island to the roof of my\nown house, which was terraced, and instantly disappeared. I\ndescended, opened the doors, and dug up the three thousand\nsequins I had formerly secreted. I went afterwards to my shop,\nwhich I also opened; and was complimented by the merchants, my\nneighbours, upon my return. When I went back to my house, I\nperceived there two black dogs, which came up to me in a very\nsubmissive manner: I could not divine the meaning of this\ncircumstance, which greatly astonished me. But the fairy, who\nimmediately appeared, said, \"Husband, be not surprised to see\nthese dogs, they are your brothers.\" I was troubled at this\ndeclaration, and asked her by what power they were so\ntransformed. \"I did it,\" said she, \"or at least authorised one of\nmy sisters to do it, who at the same time sunk their ship. You\nhave lost the goods you had on board, but I will compensate you\nanother way. As to your two brothers, I have condemned them to\nremain five years in that shape. Their perfidiousness too well\ndeserves such a penance.\" Having thus spoken and told me where I\nmight hear of her, she disappeared.\n\nThe five years being now nearly expired, I am travelling in quest\nof her; and as I passed this way, I met this merchant, and the\ngood old man who led the hind, and sat down by them. This is my\nhistory, O prince of genies! do not you think it very\nextraordinary?\" \"I own it is,\" replied the genie, \"and on that\naccount I remit the merchant the second third of the crime which\nhe has committed against me.\"\n\nAs soon as the second old man had finished, the third began his\nstory, after repeating the request of the two former, that the\ngenie would pardon the merchant the other third of his crime,\nprovided what he should relate surpassed in singularity of\nincidents the narratives he had already heard. The genie made him\nthe same promise as he had given the others.\n\nThe third old man related his story to the genie; and it exceeded\nthe two former stories so much, in the variety of wonderful\nadventures, that the genie was astonished; and no sooner heard\nthe conclusion, than he said to the old man, \"I remit the other\nthird of the merchant's crime on account of your story. He is\ngreatly obliged to all of you, for having delivered him out of\nhis danger by what you have related, for to this he owes his\nlife.\" Having spoken thus he disappeared, to the great\ncontentment of the company.\n\nThe merchant failed not to make due acknowledgment to his\ndeliverers. They rejoiced to see him out of danger; and bidding\nhim adieu, each of them proceeded on his way. The merchant\nreturned to his wife and children, and passed the rest of his\ndays with them in peace.\n\n\n\n\n                  THE STORY OF THE FISHERMAN.\n\n\n\nThere was an aged fisherman, who was so poor, that he could\nscarcely as much as would maintain himself, his wife, and three\nchildren. He went every day to fish betimes in the morning; and\nimposed it as a law upon himself, not to cast his nets above four\ntimes a-day. He went one morning by moon-light, and coming to the\nseaside, undressed himself, and cast in his nets. As he drew them\ntowards the shore, he found them very heavy, and thought he had a\ngood draught of fish, at which he rejoiced; but in a moment\nafter, perceiving that instead of fish his nets contained nothing\nbut the carcass of an ass, he was much vexed.\n\nWhen the fisherman had mended his nets, which the carcass of the\nass had broken in several places, he threw them in a second time;\nand when he drew them, found a great deal of resistance, which\nmade him think he had taken abundance of fish; but he found\nnothing except a basket full of gravel and slime, which grieved\nhim extremely. \"O fortune!\" cried he, with a lamentable tone, \"be\nnot angry with me, nor persecute a wretch who prays thee to spare\nhim. I came hither from my house to seek for my livelihood, and\nthou pronouncest against me a sentence of death. I have no other\ntrade but this to subsist by: and notwithstanding all my care, I\ncan scarcely provide what is absolutely necessary for my family.\nBut I am to blame to complain of thee; thou takest pleasure to\npersecute honest people, and to leave great men in obscurity,\nwhile thou shewest favour to the wicked, and advancest those who\nhave no virtue to recommend them.\"\n\nHaving finished this complaint, he fretfully threw away the\nbasket, and washing his nets from the slime, cast them the third\ntime; but brought up nothing, except stones, shells, and mud. No\nlanguage can express his disappointment; he was almost\ndistracted. However, when day began to appear, he did not forget\nto say his prayers, like a good Moosulmaun, and he added to them\nthis petition: \"Lord, thou knowest that I cast my nets only four\ntimes a day; I have already drawn them three times, without the\nleast reward for my labour: I am only to cast them once more; I\npray thee to render the sea favourable to me, as thou didst to\nMoses \"\n\nThe fisherman having finished this prayer, cast his nets the\nfourth time; and when he thought it was proper, drew them as\nformerly, with great difficulty; but instead of fish, found\nnothing in them but a vessel of yellow copper, which from its\nweight seemed not to be empty; and he observed that it was shut\nup and sealed with lead, having the impression of a seal upon it.\nThis turn of fortune rejoiced him; \"I will sell it,\" said he, \"to\nthe founder, and with the money buy a measure of corn.\" He\nexamined the vessel on all sides, and shook it, to try if its\ncontents made any noise, but heard nothing. This circumstance,\nwith the impression of the seal upon the leaden cover, made him\nthink it inclosed something precious. To try this, he took a\nknife, and opened it with very little labour. He turned the mouth\ndownward, but nothing came out; which surprised him extremely. He\nplaced it before him, but while he viewed it attentively, there\ncame out a very thick smoke, which obliged him to retire two or\nthree paces back.\n\nThe smoke ascended to the clouds, and extending itself along the\nsea and upon the shore formed a great mist, which we may well\nimagine filled the fisherman with astonishment. When the smoke\nwas all out of the vessel, it re-united and became a solid body,\nof which was formed a genie twice as high as the greatest of\ngiants. At the sight of a monster of such an unwieldy bulk, the\nfisherman would fain have fled, but was so frightened, that he\ncould not move.\n\n\"Solomon,\" cried the genie immediately, \"Solomon, the great\nprophet, pardon, pardon; I will never more oppose your will, I\nwill obey all your commands.\"\n\nWhen the fisherman heard these words of the genie, he recovered\nhis courage, and said to him, \"Thou proud spirit, what is it you\nsay? It is above eighteen hundred years since the prophet Solomon\ndied, and we are now at the end of time. Tell me your history,\nand how you came to be shut up in this vessel.\"\n\nThe genie turning to the fisherman, with a fierce look, said.\n\"Thou must speak to me with more respect; thou art a presumptuous\nfellow to call me a proud spirit.\" \"Very well,\" replied the\nfisherman, \"shall I speak to you more civilly, and call you the\nowl of good luck?\" \"I say,\" answered the genie, \"speak to me more\nrespectfully, or I will kill thee.\" \"Ah!\" replied the fisherman,\n\"why would you kill me? Did I not just now set you at liberty,\nand have you already forgotten my services?\" \"Yes, I remember\nit,\" said the genie, \"but that shall not save thy life: I have\nonly one favour to grant thee.\" \"And what is that?\" asked the\nfisherman. \"It is,\" answered the genie, \"to give thee thy choice,\nin what manner thou wouldst have me put thee to death.\" \"But\nwherein have I offended you?\" demanded the fisherman. \"Is that\nyour reward for the service I have rendered you?\" \"I cannot treat\nthee otherwise,\" said the genie; \"and that thou mayest know the\nreason, hearken to my story.\"\n\n\"I am one of those rebellious spirits that opposed the will of\nheaven; nearly all the other genies owned Solomon, the great\nprophet, and yielded to his authority. Sabhir and I were the only\ntwo that would never be guilty of a mean submission: and to\navenge himself, that great monarch sent Asaph, the son of\nBarakhia, his chief minister, to apprehend me. That was\naccordingly done. Asaph seized my person, and brought me by force\nbefore his master's throne.\n\n\"Solomon, the son of David, commanded me to acknowledge his\npower, and to submit to his commands: I bravely refused, and told\nhim, I would rather expose myself to his resentment, than swear\nfealty as he required. To punish me, he shut me up in this copper\nvessel; and that I might not break my prison, he himself stamps\nupon this leaden cover, his seal with the great name of God\nengraver upon it. He then gave the vessel to one of the genies\nwho had submitted, with orders to throw me into the sea, which to\nmy sorrow were executed.\n\n\"During the first hundred years of my imprisonment, I swore that\nif any one should deliver me before the expiration of that\nperiod, I would make him rich, even after his death: but that\ncentury ran out, and nobody did me that good office. During the\nsecond, I made an oath, that I would open all the treasures of\nthe earth to any one that might set me at liberty; but with no\nbetter success. In the third, I promised to make my deliverer a\npotent monarch, to be always near him in spirit, and to grant him\nevery day three requests, of what nature soever they might be:\nbut this century passed as well as the two former, and I\ncontinued in prison. At last being angry, or rather mad, to find\nmyself a prisoner so long, I swore, that if afterwards any one\nshould deliver me, I would kill him without mercy, and grant him\nno other favour but to choose the manner of his death; and\ntherefore, since thou hast delivered me to-day, I give thee that\nchoice.\"\n\nThis discourse afflicted the fisherman extremely: \"I am very\nunfortunate,\" cried he, \"to come hither to do such a kindness to\none that is so ungrateful. I beg you to consider your injustice,\nand revoke such an unreasonable oath; pardon me, and heaven will\npardon you; if you grant me my life, heaven will protest you from\nall attempts against your own.\" \"No, thy death is resolved on,\"\nsaid the genie, \"only choose in what manner you will die.\" The\nfisherman perceiving the genie to be resolute, was extremely\ngrieved, not so much for himself, as on account of his three\nchildren; and bewailed the misery they must be reduced to by his\ndeath. He endeavoured still to appease the genie, and said,\n\"Alas! be pleased to take pity on me, in consideration of the\nservice I have done you.\" \"I have told thee already,\" replied the\ngenie, \"it is for that very reason I must kill thee.\" \"That is\nstrange,\" said the fisherman, \"are you resolved to reward good\nwith evil? The proverb says, \u0091That he who does good to one who\ndeserves it not is always ill rewarded.' I must confess, I\nthought it was false; for certainly there can be nothing more\ncontrary to reason, or the laws of society. Nevertheless, I find\nnow by cruel experience that it is but too true.\" \"Do not lose\ntime,\" interrupted the genie; \"all thy reasonings shall not\ndivert me from my purpose: make haste, and tell me what kind of\ndeath thou preferest?\"\n\nNecessity is the mother of invention. The fisherman bethought\nhimself of a stratagem. \"Since I must die then,\" said he to the\ngenie, \"I submit to the will of heaven; but before I choose the\nmanner of my death, I conjure you by the great name which was\nengraver upon the seal of the prophet Solomon, the son of David,\nto answer me truly the question I am going to ask you.\"\n\nThe genie finding himself obliged to a positive answer by this\nadjuration, trembled; and replied to the fisherman, \"Ask what\nthou wilt, but make haste.\"\n\nThe fisherman then said to him, \"I wish to know if you were\nactually in this vessel: Dare you swear it by the name of the\ngreat God?\" \"Yes,\" replied the genie, \"I do swear by that great\nname, that I was.\" \"In good faith,\" answered the fisherman, \"I\ncannot believe you; the vessel is not capable of holding one of\nyour size, and how should it be possible that your whole body\nshould lie in it?\" \"I swear to thee, notwithstanding,\" replied\nthe genie, \"that I was there just as you see me here: Is it\npossible, that thou cost not believe me after the solemn oath I\nhave taken?\" \"Truly not I,\" said the fisherman; \"nor will I\nbelieve you, unless you go into the vessel again.\"\n\nUpon which the body of the genie dissolved and changed itself\ninto smoke, extending as before upon the sea shore; and at last,\nbeing collected, it began to re-enter the vessel, which it\ncontinued to do by a slow and equal motion, till no part remained\nout; when immediately a voice came forth, which said to the\nfisherman, \"Well now, incredulous fellow, I am in the vessel, do\nnot you believe me now?\"\n\nThe fisherman, instead of answering the genie, took the cover of\nlead, and having speedily replaced it on the vessel, \"Genie,\"\ncried he, \"now it is your turn to beg my favour, and to choose\nwhich way I shall put you to death; but not so, it is better that\nI should throw you into the sea, whence I took you: and then I\nwill build a house upon the shore, where I will reside and give\nnotice to all fishermen who come to throw in their nets, to\nbeware of such a wicked genie as thou art, who hast made an oath\nto kill him that shall set thee at liberty.\"\n\nThe genie, enraged at these expressions, struggled to set himself\nat liberty; but it was impossible, for the impression of\nSolomon's seal prevented him. Perceiving that the fisherman had\ngot the advantage of him, for he thought fit to dissemble his\nanger; \"Fishermen,\" said he, \"take heed you do not what you\nthreaten; for what I spoke to you was only by way of jest.\" \"O\ngenie!\" replied the fisherman, \"thou who wast but a moment ago\nthe greatest of all genies, and now art the least of them, thy\ncrafty discourse will signify nothing, to the sea thou shalt\nreturn. If thou hast been there already so long as thou hast told\nme, thou may'st very well stay there till the day of judgment. I\nbegged of thee in God's name not to take away my life, and thou\ndidst reject my prayers; I am obliged to treat thee in the same\nmanner.\"\n\nThe genie omitted nothing that he thought likely to prevail with\nthe fisherman: \"Open the vessel,\" said he, \"give me my liberty,\nand I promise to satisfy thee to thy own content.\" \"Thou art a\ntraitor,\" replied the fisherman, \"I should deserve to lose my\nlife, if I were such a fool as to trust thee: thou wilt not fail\nto treat me in the same manner as a certain Grecian king treated\nthe physician Douban. It is a story I have a mind to tell thee,\ntherefore listen to it.\"\n\n\n\n\n    The Story of the Grecian King and the Physician Douban.\n\n\n\nThere was in the country of Yunaun or Greece, a king who was\nleprous, and his physicians had in vain endeavoured his cure;\nwhen a very able physician, named Douban, arrived at his court.\n\nThis physician had learnt the theory of his profession in Greek,\nPersian, Turkish, Arabic, Latin, Syriac, and Hebrew books; he was\nan experienced natural philosopher, and fully understood the good\nand bad qualities of plants and drugs. As soon as he was informed\nof the king's distemper, and understood that his physicians had\ngiven him over, he found means to present himself before him. \"I\nknow,\" said he, after the usual ceremonials, \"that your majesty's\nphysicians have not been able to heal you of the leprosy; but if\nyou will accept my service, I will engage to cure you without\npotions, or external applications.\"\n\nThe king listened to what he said, and answered, \"If you be able\nto perform what you promise, I will enrich you and your\nposterity. Do you assure me that you will cure my leprosy without\npotion, or applying any external medicine?\" \"Yes, Sire,\" replied\nthe physician, \"I promise myself success, through God's\nassistance, and to-morrow, with your majesty's permission, I will\nmake the trial.\"\n\nThe physician returned to his quarters, made a hollow mace, and\nat the handle he put in his drugs; he made also a ball in such a\nmanner as suited his purpose, with which next morning he\npresented himself before the king, and falling down at his feet,\nkissed the ground.\n\nThe physician Douban rose up, and after a profound reverence,\nsaid to the king, he judged it meet that his majesty should take\nhorse, and go to the place where he used to play at mall. The\nking did so, and when he arrived there, the physician came to him\nwith the mace, and said, \"Exercise yourself with this mace, and\nstrike the ball until you find your hands and body perspire. When\nthe medicine I have put up in the handle of the mace is heated\nwith your hand, it will penetrate your whole body; and as soon as\nyou perspire, you may leave off the exercise, for then the\nmedicine will have had its effect. Immediately on your return to\nyour palace, go into the bath, and cause yourself to be well\nwashed and rubbed; then retire to bed, and when you rise to-\nmorrow you will find yourself cured.\"\n\nThe king took the mace, and struck the ball, which was returned\nby his officers who played with him; he played so long, that his\nhands and his whole body were in a sweat, and then the medicine\nshut up in the handle of the mace had its operation, as the\nphysician had said. Upon this the king left off play, returned to\nhis palace, entered the bath, and observed very exactly his\nphysician had prescribed to him.\n\nThe next morning when he arose, he perceived with equal wonder\nand joy, that his leprosy was cured, and his body as clean as if\nit had never been affected. As soon as he was dressed, he came\ninto the hall of audience, where he ascended his throne, and\nshewed himself to his courtiers: who, eager to know the success\nof the new medicine, came thither betimes, and when they saw the\nking perfectly cured, expressed great joy. The physician Douban\nentering the hall, bowed himself before the throne, with his face\nto the ground. The king perceiving him, made him sit down by his\nside, presented him to the assembly, and gave him all the\ncommendation he deserved. His majesty did not stop here: but as\nhe treated all his court that day, made him eat at his table\nalone with him.\n\nThe Grecian king was not satisfied with having admitted the\nphysician Douban to his table, but caused him to be clad in a\nrich robe, ordered him two thousand pieces of gold, and thinking\nthat he could never sufficiently acknowledge his obligations to\nhim, continued every day to load him with new favours. But this\nking had a vizier, who was avaricious, envious, and naturally\ncapable of every kind of mischief. He could not behold without\nenvy the presents that were given to the physician, whose other\nmerits had already begun to make him jealous, and he therefore\nresolved to lessen him in the king's esteem. To effect this, he\nwent to the king, and told him in private, that he had some\ninformation of the greatest consequence to communicate. The king\nhaving asked what it was? \"Sire,\" said he, \"it is highly\ndangerous for a monarch to confide in a man whose fidelity he has\nnever tried. Though you heap favours upon the physician Douban,\nyour majesty does not know that he is a traitor, sent by your\nenemies to take away your life.\" \"From whom,\" demanded the king,\n\"have you the suggestion which you dare pronounce? Consider to\nwhom you are speaking, and that you are advancing what I shall\nnot easily believe.\" \"Sire,\" replied the vizier, \"I am well\ninformed of what I have had the honour to reveal to your majesty;\ntherefore do not rest in dangerous security: if your majesty be\nasleep, be pleased to awake; for I once more repeat, that the\nphysician Douban left his native country, and came to settle\nhimself at your court, for the sole purpose of executing the\nhorrible design which I have intimated.\"\n\n\"No, no, vizier,\" interrupted the king; \"I am certain, that this\nphysician, whom you suspect to be a villain and a traitor, is one\nof the best and most virtuous of men. You know by what medicine,\nor rather by what miracle, he cured me of my leprosy: If he had\nhad a design upon my life, why did he save me then? He needed\nonly to have left me to my disease; I could not have escaped it,\nas life was fast decaying. Forbear then to fill me with unjust\nsuspicions: instead of listening to you, I tell you, that from\nthis day forward I will give that great man a pension of a\nthousand pieces of gold per month for his life; nay, though I\nwere to share with him all my riches and dominions, I should\nnever pay him sufficiently for what he has done. I perceive it to\nbe his virtue that raises your envy; but do not think I will be\nunjustly prejudiced against him. I remember too well what a\nvizier said to king Sinbad, his master, to prevent his putting to\ndeath the prince his son.\"\n\nWhat the Grecian king said about king Sinbad raised the vizier's\ncuriosity, who said, \"I pray your majesty to pardon me, if I have\nthe boldness to ask what the vizier of king Sinbad said to his\nmaster to divert him from putting the prince his son to death.\"\nThe Grecian king had the condescension to satisfy him: \"That\nvizier,\" said he, \"after having represented to king Sinbad, that\nhe ought to beware, lest on the accusation of a mother-in-law he\nshould commit an action of which he might afterwards repent, told\nhim this story.\"\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of the Husband and the Parrot.\n\n\n\nA certain man had a beautiful wife, whom he loved so dearly, that\nhe could scarcely allow her to be out of his sight. One day, some\nurgent affairs obliging him to go from home, he went to a place\nwhere all sorts of birds were sold, and bought a parrot, which\nnot only spoke well, but could also give an account of every\nthing that was done in its presence. He brought it in a cage to\nhis house, desired his wife to put it in his chamber, and take\ncare of it during his absence, and then departed.\n\nOn his return, he questioned the parrot concerning what had\npassed while he was from home, and the bird told him such things\nas gave him occasion to upbraid his wife. She concluded some of\nher slaves had betrayed her, but all of them swore they had been\nfaithful, and agreed that the parrot must have been the tell-\ntale.\n\nUpon this, the wife began to devise how she might remove her\nhusband's jealousy, and at the same time revenge herself on the\nparrot. Her husband being gone another journey, she commanded a\nslave in the night-time to turn a hand-mill under the parrot's\ncage; she ordered another to sprinkle water, in resemblance of\nrain, over the cage; and a third to move a looking-glass,\nbackward and forward against a candle, before the parrot. The\nslaves spent a great part of the night in doing what their\nmistress desired them, and acquitted themselves with much skill.\n\nNext night the husband returned, and examined the parrot again\nabout what had passed during his absence. The bird answered,\n\"Good master, the lightning, thunder, and rain so much disturbed\nme all night, that I cannot tell how much I suffered.\" The\nhusband, who knew that there had been neither thunder, lightning,\nnor rain in the night, fancied that the parrot, not having spoken\ntruth in this, might also have lied in the other relation; upon\nwhich he took it out of the cage, and threw it with so much force\nto the ground that he killed it. Yet afterwards he understood\nfrom his neigbours, that the poor parrot had not deceived him in\nwhat it had stated of his wife's base conduct, made him repent\nthat he had killed it.\n\nWhen the Grecian king had finished the story of the parrot, he\nadded, \"And you, vizier, because of the hatred you bear to the\nphysician Douban, who never did you any injury, you would have me\ncut him off; but I will beware lest I should repent as the\nhusband did after killing his parrot.\"\n\nThe mischievous vizier was too desirous of effecting the ruin of\nthe physician Douban to stop here. \"Sir,\" said he, \"the death of\nthe parrot was but a trifle, and I believe his master did not\nmourn for him long: but why should your fear of wronging an\ninnocent man, hinder your putting this physician to death? Is it\nnot sufficient justification that he is accused of a design\nagainst your life? When the business in question is to secure the\nlife of a king, bare suspicion ought to pass for certainty; and\nit is better to sacrifice the innocent than to spare the guilty.\nBut, Sir, this is not a doubtful case; the physician Douban has\ncertainly a mind to assassinate you. It is not envy which makes\nme his enemy; it is only my zeal, with the concern I have for\npreserving your majesty's life, that makes me give you my advice\nin a matter of this importance. If the accusation be false, I\ndeserve to be punished in the same manner as a vizier formerly\nwas.\" \"What had the vizier done,\" demands the Grecian king, \"to\ndeserve punishment?\" \"I will inform your majesty,\" said the\nvizier, \"if you will be pleased to hear me.\"\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of the Vizier that was Punished.\n\n\n\nThere was a king who had a son that loved hunting. He allowed him\nto pursue that diversion often; but gave orders to his grand\nvizier always to attend him.\n\nOne hunting day, the huntsman having roused a deer, the prince,\nwho thought the vizier followed him, pursued the game so far, and\nwith so much earnestness, that he separated himself from the\ncompany. Perceiving he had lost his way he stopped, and\nendeavoured to return to the vizier; but not knowing the country\nhe wandered farther.\n\nWhilst he was thus riding about, he met on his way a handsome\nlady, who wept bitterly. He stopped his horse, and enquired who\nshe was, how she came to be alone in that place, and what she\nwanted. \"I am,\" replied she, \"the daughter of an Indian king. As\nI was taking the air on horseback, in the country, I grew sleepy,\nand fell from my horse, who is run away, and I know not what is\nbecome of him.\" The young prince taking compassion on her,\nrequested her to get up behind him, which she willingly did.\n\nAs they were passing by the ruins of a house, the lady expressed\na desire to alight. The prince stopped, and having put her down,\ndismounted himself, and went near the building, leading his horse\nafter him. But you may judge how much he was surprised, when he\nheard the pretended lady utter these words: \"Be glad, my\nchildren, I bring you a young man for your repast;\" and other\nvoices, which answered immediately, \"Where is he, for we are very\nhungry?\"\n\nThe prince heard enough to convince him of his danger. He\nperceived that the lady, who called herself the daughter of an\nIndian king, was one of those savage demons, called Gholes, who\nlive in desolated places, and employ a thousand wiles to surprise\npassengers, whom they afterwards devour. The prince instantly\nremounted his horse, and luckily escaped.\n\nThe pretended princess appeared that very moment, and perceiving\nshe had missed her prey, exclaimed, \"Fear nothing, prince: Who\nare you? Whom do you seek?\" \"I have lost my way,\" replied he,\n\"and am endeavouring to find it.\" \"If you have lost your way,\"\nsaid she, \"recommend yourself to God, he will deliver you out of\nyour perplexity.\"\n\nAfter the counterfeit Indian princess had bidden the young prince\nrecommend himself to God, he could not believe she spoke\nsincerely, but thought herself sure of him; and therefore lifting\nup his hands to heaven, said, \"Almighty Lord, cast shine eyes\nupon me, and deliver me from this enemy.\" After this prayer, the\nghole entered the ruins again, and the prince rode off with all\npossible haste. He happily found his way, and arrived safe at the\ncourt of his father, to whom he gave a particular account of the\ndanger he had been in through the vizier's neglect: upon which\nthe king, being incensed against that minister, ordered him to be\nimmediately strangled.\n\n\"Sir,\" continued the Grecian king's vizier, \"to return to the\nphysician Douban, if you do not take care, the confidence you put\nin him will be fatal to you; I am very well assured that he is a\nspy sent by your enemies to attempt your majesty's life. He has\ncured you, you will say: but alas! who can assure you of that? He\nhas perhaps cured you only in appearance, and not radically; who\nknows but the medicine he has given you, may in time have\npernicious effects?\"\n\nThe Grecian king was not able to discover the wicked design of\nhis vizier, nor had he firmness enough to persist in his first\nopinion. This discourse staggered him: \"Vizier,\" said he, \"thou\nart in the right; he may be come on purpose to take away my life,\nwhich he may easily do by the smell of his drugs.\"\n\nWhen the vizier found the king in such a temper as he wished,\n\"Sir,\" said he, \"the surest and speediest method you can take to\nsecure your life, is to send immediately for the physician\nDouban, and order his head to be struck off.\" \"In truth,\" said\nthe king, \"I believe that is the way we must take to frustrate\nhis design.\" When he had spoken thus, he called for one of his\nofficers, and ordered him to go for the physician; who, knowing\nnothing of the king's purpose, came to the palace in haste.\n\n\"Knowest thou,\" said the king, when he saw him, \"why I sent for\nthee?\" \"No, Sir,\" answered he; \"I wait till your majesty be\npleased to inform me.\" \"I sent for thee,\" replied the king, \"to\nrid myself of thee, by taking away thy life.\"\n\nNo man can express the surprise of the physician, when he heard\nthe sentence of death pronounced against him. \"Sir,\" said he,\n\"why would your majesty take my life? What crime have I\ncommitted?\" \"I am informed,\" replied the king, \"that you came to\nmy court only to attempt my life; but to prevent you, I will be\nsure of yours. Give the blow,\" said he to the executioner, who\nwas present, \"and deliver me from a perfidious wretch, who came\nhither on purpose to assassinate me.\"\n\nWhen the physician heard this cruel order, he readily judged that\nthe honours and presents he had received from the king had\nprocured him enemies, and that the weak prince was imposed on. He\nrepented that he had cured him of his leprosy; but it was now too\nlate. \"Is it thus,\" asked the physician, \"that you reward me for\ncuring you?\" The king would not hearken to him, but a second time\nordered the executioner to strike the fatal blow. The physician\nthen had recourse to his prayers; \"Alas, Sir,\" cried he, \"prolong\nmy days, and God will prolong yours; do not put me to death, lest\nGod treat you in the same manner.\"\n\nThe fisherman broke off his discourse here, to apply it to the\ngenie. \"Well, genie,\" said he, \"you see that what passed betwixt\nthe Grecian king and his physician Douban is acted just now by\nus.\"\n\nThe Grecian king, continued he, instead of having regard to the\nprayers of the physician, who begged him to spare his life,\ncruelly replied, \"No, no; I must of necessity cut you off,\notherwise you may assassinate with as much art as you cured me.\"\nThe physician, without bewailing himself for being so ill\nrewarded by the king, prepared for death. The executioner tied\nhis hands, and was going to draw his cimeter.\n\nThe courtiers who were present, being moved with compassion,\nbegged the king to pardon him, assuring his majesty that he was\nnot guilty of the crime laid to his charge, and that they would\nanswer for his innocence: but the king was inflexible.\n\nThe physician being on his knees, his eyes tied up, and ready to\nreceive the fatal blow, addressed himself once more to the king:\n\"Sir,\" said he, \"since your majesty will not revoke the sentence\nof death, I beg, at least, that you would give me leave to return\nto my house, to give orders about my burial, to bid farewell to\nmy family, to give alms, and to bequeath my books to those who\nare capable of making good use of them. I have one particularly I\nwould present to your majesty; it is a very precious book, and\nworthy of being laid up carefully in your treasury.\" \"What is\nit,\" demanded the king, \"that makes it so valuable?\" \"Sir,\"\nreplied the physician, \"it possesses many singular and curious\nproperties; of which the chief is, that if your majesty will give\nyourself the trouble to open it at the sixth leaf, and read the\nthird line of the left page, my head, after being cut off, will\nanswer all the questions you ask it.\" The king being curious,\ndeferred his death till next day, and sent him home under a\nstrong guard.\n\nThe physician, during that time, put his affairs in order; and\nthe report being spread, that an unheard of prodigy was to happen\nafter his death, the viziers, emirs, officers of the guard, and,\nin a word, the whole court, repaired next day to the hall of\naudience, that they might be witnesses of it.\n\nThe physician Douban was brought in, and advancing to the foot of\nthe throne, with a book in his hand, he called for a basin, and\nlaid upon it the cover in which the book was wrapped; then\npresenting the book to the king, \"Take this,\" said he, \"and after\nmy head is cut off, order that it be put into the basin upon that\ncover; as soon as it is placed there, the blood will stop; then\nopen the book, and my head will answer your questions. But permit\nme once more to implore your majesty's clemency; for God's sake\ngrant my request, I protest to you that I am innocent.\" \"Your\nprayers,\" answered the king, \"are in vain; and were it for\nnothing but to hear your head speak after your death, it is my\nwill you should die.\" As he said this, he took the book out of\nthe physician's hand, and ordered the executioner to do his duty.\n\nThe head was so dexterously cut off that it fell into the basin,\nand was no sooner laid upon the cover of the book than the blood\nstopped; then to the great surprise of the king, and all the\nspectators, its eyes, and said, \"Sir, will your majesty be\npleased to open the book?\" The king proceeded to do so; but\nfinding that the leaves adhered to each other, that he might turn\nthem with more ease, he put his finger to his mouth, and wetted\nit with spittle. He did thus till he came to the sixth leaf, and\nfinding no writing on the place where he was desired to look for\nit, \"Physician,\" said he, \"there is nothing written.\" \"Turn over\nsome more leaves,\" replied the head. The king went on, putting\nalways his finger to his mouth, until the poison with which each\nleaf was imbued, coming to have its effect, the prince found\nhimself suddenly taken with an extraordinary fit, his eye-sight\nfailed, and he fell down at the foot of the throne in violent\nconvulsions.\n\nWhen the physician Douban, or rather his head, saw that the\npoison had taken effect, and that the king had but a few moments\nto live; \"Tyrant,\" it cried, \"now you see how princes are\ntreated, who, abusing their authority, cut off innocent men: God\npunishes soon or late their injustice and cruelty.\" Scarcely had\nthe head spoken these words, when the king fell down dead, and\nthe head itself lost what life it had.\n\nAs soon as the fisherman had concluded the history of the Greek\nking and his physician Douban, he made the application to the\ngenie, whom he still kept shut up in the vessel. \"If the Grecian\nking,\" said he, \"had suffered the physician to live, God would\nhave continued his life also; but he rejected his most humble\nprayers, and the case is the same with thee, O genie! Could I\nhave prevailed with thee to grant me the favour I supplicated, I\nshould now take pity on thee; but since, notwithstanding the\nextreme obligation thou west under to me, for having set thee at\nliberty, thou didst persist in thy design to kill me, I am\nobliged, in my turn, to be equally hard-hearted to thee.\"\n\n\"My good friend fisherman,\" replied the genie, \"I conjure thee\nonce more, not to be guilty of such cruelty; consider, that it is\nnot good to avenge one's self, and that on the other hand, it is\ncommendable to do good for evil; do not treat me as Imama\nformerly treated Ateca.\" \"And what did Imama to Ateca?\" enquired\nthe fisherman. \"Ho!\" says the genie, \"if you have a mind to be\ninformed, open the vessel: do you think that I can be in an\nhumour to relate stories in so strait a prison? I will tell you\nas many as you please, when you have let me out.\" \"No,\" said the\nfisherman, \"I will not let thee out; it is in vain to talk of it;\nI am just going to throw thee into the bottom of the sea.\" \"Hear\nme one word more,\" cried the genie; \"I promise to do thee no\nhurt; nay, far from that, I will shew thee a way to become\nexceedingly rich.\"\n\nThe hope of delivering himself from poverty, prevailed with the\nfisherman. \"I could listen to thee,\" said he, \"were there any\ncredit to be given to thy word; swear to me by the great name of\nGod, that you will faithfully perform what you promise, and I\nwill open the vessel; I do not believe you will dare to break\nsuch an oath.\"\n\nThe genie swore to him, upon which the fisherman immediately took\noff the covering of the vessel. At that instant the smoke\nascended, and the genie having resumed his form, the first thing\nhe did was to kick the vessel into the sea. This action alarmed\nthe fisherman. \"Genie,\" said he, \"will not you keep the oath you\njust now made? And must I say to you, as the physician Douban\nsaid to the Grecian king, suffer me to live, and God will prolong\nyour days.\"\n\nThe genie laughed at the fisherman's fear, and answered, \"No,\nfisherman, be not afraid, I only did it to divert myself, and to\nsee if thou wouldst be alarmed at it: but to convince thee that I\nam in earnest, take thy nets and follow me.\" As he spoke these\nwords, he walked before the fisherman, who having taken up his\nnets, followed him, but with some distrust. They passed by the\ntown, and came to the top of a mountain, from whence they\ndescended into a vast plain, which brought them to a lake, that\nlay betwixt four hills.\n\nWhen they reached the side of the lake, the genie said to the\nfisherman, \"Cast in thy nets, and catch fish; \"the fisherman did\nnot doubt of taking some, because he saw a great number in the\nwater; but he was extremely surprised, when he found they were of\nfour colours, that is to say, white, red, blue, and yellow. He\nthrew in his nets, and brought out one of each colour. Having\nnever seen the like before, he could not but admire them, and\njudging that he might get a considerable sum for them, he was\nvery joyful. \"Carry those fish,\" said the genie to him, \"and\npresent them to thy sultan; he will give thee more money for\nthem. Thou mayest come every day to fish in this lake; but I give\nthee warning not to throw in thy nets above once a day, otherwise\nthou wilt repent.\" Having spoken thus, he struck his foot upon\nthe ground, which opened, and after it had swallowed him up\nclosed again.\n\nThe fisherman being resolved to follow the genie's advice,\nforbore casting in his nets a second time; and returned to the\ntown very well satisfied; and making a thousand reflections upon\nhis adventure. He went immediately to the sultan's palace, to\noffer his fish.\n\nThe sultan was much surprised, when he saw the four fish which\nthe fisherman presented. He took them up one after another, and\nviewed them with attention; and after having admired them a long\ntime, \"Take those fish,\" said he to his vizier, \"and carry them\nto the cook, whom the emperor of the Greeks has sent me. I cannot\nimagine but that they must be as good as they are beautiful.\"\n\nThe vizier, carried them as he was directed, and delivering them\nto the cook, said, \"Here are four fish just brought to the\nsultan; he orders you to dress them:\" he then returned to the\nsultan his master, who ordered him to give the fisherman four\nhundred pieces of gold of the coin of that country, which he did\naccordingly.\n\nThe fisherman, who had never seen so much money, could scarcely\nbelieve his good fortune, but thought the whole must be a dream,\nuntil he found it otherwise, by being able to provide necessaries\nfor his family with the produce of his fish.\n\nAs soon as the sultan's cook had gutted the fish, she put them\nupon the fire in a frying-pan, with oil, and when she thought\nthem fried enough on one side, she turned them upon the other;\nbut, O monstrous prodigy! scarcely were they turned, when the\nwall of the kitchen divided, and a young lady of wonderful beauty\nentered from the opening. She was clad in flowered satin, after\nthe Egyptian manner, with pendants in her ears, a necklace of\nlarge pearls, and bracelets of gold set with rubies, with a rod\nin her hand. She moved towards the frying-pan, to the great\namazement of the cook, who continued fixed by the sight, and\nstriking one of the fish with the end of the rod, said, \"Fish,\nfish, are you in duty?\" The fish having answered nothing, she\nrepeated these words, and then the four fish lifted up their\nheads, and replied, \"Yes, yes: if you reckon, we reckon; if you\npay your debts, we pay ours; if you fly, we overcome, and are\ncontent.\" As soon as they had finished these words, the lady\noverturned the frying-pan, and returned into the open part of the\nwall, which closed immediately, and became as it was before.\n\nThe cook was greatly frightened at what had happened, and coming\na little to herself, went to take up the fish that had fallen on\nthe hearth, but found them blacker than coal, and not fit to be\ncarried to the sultan. This grievously troubled her, and she fell\nto weeping most bitterly. \"Alas!\" said she, \"what will become of\nme? If I tell the sultan what I have seen, I am sure he will not\nbelieve me, but will be enraged against me.\"\n\nWhile she was thus bewailing herself, the grand vizier entered,\nand asked her if the fish were ready? She told him all that had\noccurred, which we may easily imagine astonished him; but without\nspeaking a word of it to the sultan, he invented an excuse that\nsatisfied him, and sending immediately for the fisherman, bid him\nbring four more such fish, for a misfortune had befallen the\nothers, so that they were not fit to be carried to the sultan.\nThe fisherman, without saying any thing of what the genie had\ntold him, in order to excuse himself from bringing them that day,\ntold the vizier, he had a great way to go for them, but would\ncertainly bring them on the morrow.\n\nAccordingly the fisherman went away by night, and coming to the\nlake, threw in his nets betimes next morning, took four fish like\nthe former, and brought them to the vizier, at the hour\nappointed. The minister took them himself, carried them to the\nkitchen, and shutting himself up with the cook, she gutted them,\nand put them on the fire, as she had done the four others the day\nbefore. When they were fried on one side, and she had turned them\nupon the other, the kitchen wall again opened, and the same lady\ncame in with the rod in her hand, struck one of the fish, spoke\nto it as before, and all four gave her the same answer.\n\nAfter the four fish had answered the young lady, she overturned\nthe frying-pan with her rod, and retired into the wall. The grand\nvizier, being witness to what had passed: \"This is too wonderful\nand extraordinary,\" said he, \"to be concealed from the sultan; I\nwill inform him of this prodigy.\"\n\nThe sultan, being much surprised, sent immediately for the\nfisherman, and said to him, \"Friend, cannot you bring me four\nmore such fish?\" The fisherman replied, \"If your majesty will be\npleased to allow me three days, I will do it.\" Having obtained\nhis time, he went to the lake immediately, and at the first\nthrowing in of his net, he caught four fish, and brought them\ndirectly to the sultan; who was so much the more rejoiced, as he\ndid not expect them so soon, and ordered him four hundred pieces\nof gold. As soon as the sultan had the fish, he ordered them to\nbe carried into his closet, with all that was necessary for\nfrying them; and having shut himself up with the vizier, the\nminister gutted them, put them into the pan, and when they were\nfried on one side, turned them upon the other; then the wall of\nthe closet opened, but instead of the young lady, there came out\na black, in the habit of a slave, and of a gigantic stature, with\na great green staff in his hand. He advanced towards the pan, and\ntouching one of the fish with his staff, said with a terrible\nvoice, \"Fish, are you in your duty?\" At these words, the fish\nraised up their heads, and answered, \"Yes, yes; we are: if you\nreckon, we reckon; if you pay your debts, we pay ours; if you\nfly, we overcome, and are content.\"\n\nThe fish had no sooner finished these words, than the black threw\nthe pan into the middle of the closet, and reduced the fish to a\ncoal. Having done this, he retired fiercely, and entering again\ninto the aperture, it closed, and the wall appeared just as it\ndid before.\n\n\"After what I have seen,\" said the sultan to the vizier, \"it will\nnot be possible for me to be easy: these fish, without doubt,\nsignify something extraordinary.\" He sent for the fisherman, and\nwhen he came, said to him, \"Fisherman, the fish you have brought\nus, make me very uneasy; where did you catch them?\" \"Sir,\"\nanswered he, \"I fished for them in a lake situated betwixt four\nhills, beyond the mountain that we see from hence.\" \"Knowst thou\nnot that lake?\" said the sultan to the vizier. \"No,\" replied the\nvizier. \"I never so much as heard of it, although I have for\nsixty years hunted beyond that mountain.\" The sultan asked the\nfisherman, how far the lake might be from the palace? The\nfisherman answered, it was not above three hours journey; upon\nthis assurance, the sultan commanded all his court to take horse,\nand the fisherman served them for a guide. They all ascended the\nmountain, and at the foot of it they saw, to their great\nsurprise, a vast plain, that nobody had observed till then, and\nat last they came to the lake, which they found to be situated\nbetwixt four hills as the fisherman had described. The water was\nso transparent, that they observed all the fish to be like those\nwhich the fisherman had brought to the palace.\n\nThe sultan stood upon the bank of the lake, and after beholding\nthe fish with admiration, demanded of his courtiers, if it were\npossible they had never seen this lake, which was within so short\na distance of the town. They all answered, that they had never so\nmuch as heard of it.\n\n\"Since you all agree that you never heard of it, and as I am no\nless astonished than you are, at this novelty, I am resolved not\nto return to my palace till I learn how this lake came here, and\nwhy all the fish in it are of four colours.\" Having spoken thus,\nhe ordered his court to encamp; and immediately his pavilion and\nthe tents of his household were planted upon the banks of the\nlake.\n\nWhen night came, the sultan retired under his pavilion, and spoke\nto the grand vizier. thus: \"Vizier, my mind is uneasy: this lake\ntransported hither; the black that appeared to us in my closet,\nand the fish that we heard speak; all these things so much excite\nmy curiosity, that I cannot resist my impatient desire to have it\nsatisfied. To this end, I am resolved to withdraw alone from the\ncamp, and I order you to keep my absence secret: stay in my\npavilion, and to-morrow morning, when the emirs and courtiers\ncome to attend my levee, send them away, and tell them, that I am\nsomewhat indisposed, and wish to be alone; and the following days\ntell them the same thing, till I return.\"\n\nThe grand vizier. endeavoured to divert the sultan from this\ndesign; he represented to him the danger to which he might be\nexposed, and that all his labour might perhaps be in vain: but it\nwas to no purpose; the sultan was resolved. He put on a suit fit\nfor walking, and took his cimeter; and as soon as he found that\nall was quiet in the camp, went out alone, and passed over one of\nthe hills without much difficulty; he found the descent still\nmore easy, and when he came to the plain, walked on till the sun\narose, and then he saw before him, at a considerable distance, a\nvast building. He rejoiced at the sight, in hopes of receiving\nthere the information he sought. When he drew near, he found it\nwas a magnificent palace, or rather a strong castle, of black\npolished marble, and covered with fine steel, as smooth as glass.\nBeing highly pleased that he had so speedily met with something\nworthy his curiosity, he stopped before the front of the castle,\nand considered it with attention.\n\nHe then advanced towards the gate, which had two leaves, one of\nthem open; though he might immediately have entered, yet he\nthought it best to knock. This he did at first softly, and waited\nfor some time; but seeing no one, and supposing he had not been\nheard, he knocked harder the second time, and after that he\nknocked again and again, but no one yet appearing, he was\nexceedingly surprised; for he could not think that a castle in\nsuch repair was without inhabitants. \"If there be no one in it,\"\nsaid he to himself, \"I have nothing to fear; and if it be\ninhabited, I have wherewith to defend myself.\"\n\nAt last he entered, and when he came within the porch, he cried,\n\"Is there no one here to receive a stranger, who comes in for\nsome refreshment as he passes by?\" He repeated the same words two\nor three times; but though he spoke very loud, he was not\nanswered. The silence increased his astonishment: he came into a\nspacious court, and looked on every side for inhabitants, but\ndiscovered none.\n\nThe sultan entered the grand halls, which were hung with silk\ntapestry, the alcoves and sofas were covered with stuffs of\nMecca, and the porches with the richest stuffs of India, mixed\nwith gold and silver. He came afterwards into a superb saloon, in\nthe middle of which was a fountain, with a lion of massy gold at\neach angle: water issued from the mouths of the four lions; and\nas it fell, formed diamonds and pearls, resembling a jet d'eau,\nwhich springing from the middle of the fountain, rose nearly to\nthe top of a cupola painted in Arabesque.\n\nThe castle, on three sides, was encompassed by a garden, with\nparterres of flowers, shrubbery, and whatever could concur to\nembellish it; and to complete the beauty of the place, an\ninfinite number of birds filled the air with their harmonious\nnotes, and always remained there, nets being spread over the\ngarden, and fastened to the palace to confine them. The sultan\nwalked from apartment to apartment, where he found every thing\nrich and magnificent. Being tired with walking, he sat down in a\nverandah or arcade closet, which had a view over the garden,\nreflecting what he had already seen, and then beheld: when\nsuddenly he heard the voice of one complaining, in lamentable\ntones. He listened with attention, and heard distinctly these\nwords: \"O fortune! thou who wouldst not suffer me longer to enjoy\na happy lot, forbear to persecute me, and by a speedy death put\nan end to my sorrows. Alas! is it possible that I am still alive,\nafter so many torments as I have suffered!\"\n\nThe sultan rose up, advanced toward the place whence he heard the\nvoice; and coming to the door of a great hall, opened it, and saw\na handsome young man, richly habited, seated upon a throne raised\na little above the ground. Melancholy was painted on his\ncountenance. The sultan drew near, and saluted him; the young man\nreturned his salutation by an inclination of his head, not being\nable to rise, at the same time saying, \"My lord, I should rise to\nreceive you; but am hindered by sad necessity, and therefore hope\nyou will not be offended.\" \"My lord,\" replied the sultan, \"I am\nmuch obliged to you for having so good an opinion of me: as to\nthe reason of your not rising, whatever your apology be, I\nheartily accept it. Being drawn hither by your complaints, and\nafflicted by your grief, I come to offer you my help; would to\nGod that it lay in my power to ease you of your trouble! I would\ndo my utmost to effect it. I flatter myself that you will relate\nto me the history of your misfortunes; but inform me first of the\nmeaning of the lake near the palace, where the fish are of four\ncolours? whose this castle is? how you came to be here? and why\nyou are alone?\"\n\nInstead of answering these questions, the young man began to weep\nbitterly. \"How inconstant is\nfortune!\" cried he; \"she takes pleasure to pull down those she\nhad raised. Where are they who enjoy quietly the happiness which\nthey hold of her, and whose day is always clear and serene?\"\n\nThe sultan, moved with compassion to see him in such a condition,\nprayed him to relate the cause of his excessive grief. \"Alas! my\nlord,\" replied the young man, \"how is it possible but I should\ngrieve, and my eyes be inexhaustible fountains of tears?\" At\nthese words, lifting up his robe, he shewed the sultan that he\nwas a man only from the head to the girdle, and that the other\nhalf of his body was black marble.\n\nThe sultan was much surprised, when he saw the deplorable\ncondition of the young man. \"That which you shew me,\" said he,\n\"while it fills me with horror, excites my curiosity, so that I\nam impatient to hear your history, which, no doubt, must be\nextraordinary, and I am persuaded that the lake and the fish make\nsome part of it; therefore I conjure you to relate it. You will\nfind some comfort in so doing, since it is certain, that the\nunfortunate find relief in making known their distress.\" \"I will\nnot refuse your request,\" replied the young man, \"though I cannot\ncomply without renewing my grief. But I give you notice before\nhand, to prepare your ears, your mind, and even your eyes, for\nthings which surpass all that the imagination can conceive.\"\n\n\n\n\nThe History of the Young King of the Black Isles.\n\n\n\nYou must know that my father, named Mahmoud, was king of this\ncountry. This is the kingdom of the Black Isles, which takes its\nname from the four small neighbouring mountains; for these\nmountains were formerly isles: the capital where the king my\nfather resided was situated on the spot now occupied by the lake\nyou have seen. The sequel of my history will inform you of those\nchanges.\n\nThe king my father died when he was seventy years of age; I had\nno sooner succeeded him, than I married, and the lady I chose to\nshare the royal dignity with me, was my cousin. I had so much\nreason to be satisfied with her affection, and, on my part, loved\nher with so much tenderness, that nothing could surpass the\nharmony and pleasure of our union. This lasted five years, at the\nend of which time, I perceived the queen, my cousin, ceased to\ndelight in my attentions.\n\nOne day, after dinner, while she was at the bath, I found myself\ninclined to repose and lay down upon a sofa. Two of her ladies,\nwho were then in my chamber, came and sat down, one at my head,\nand the other at my feet, with fans in their hands to moderate\nthe heat, and to prevent the flies from disturbing me. They\nthought I was asleep, and spoke in whispers; but as I only closed\nmy eyes, I heard all their conversation.\n\nOne of them said to the other, \"Is not the queen wrong, not to\nlove so amiable a prince?\" \"Certainly,\" replied the other; \"I do\nnot understand the reason, neither can I conceive why she goes\nout every night, and leaves him alone!\" \"Is it possible that he\ndoes not perceive it?\" \"Alas!\" said the first, \"how should he?\nshe mixes every evening in his liquor, the juice of a certain\nherb, which makes him sleep so sound all night, that she has time\nto go where she pleases, and as day begins to appear, she comes\nand lies down by him again, and wakes him by the smell of\nsomething she puts under his nostrils.\"\n\nYou may guess, my lord, how much I was surprised at this\nconversation, and with what sentiments it inspired me; yet,\nwhatever emotion it excited, I had sufficient self-command to\ndissemble, and feigned to awake without having heard a word.\n\nThe queen returned from the bath, we supped together and she\npresented me with a cup full of such water as I was accustomed to\ndrink; but instead of putting it to my mouth, I went to a window\nthat was open, and threw out the water so quickly, that she did\nnot perceive it, and returned.\n\nWe went to bed together, and soon after, believing that I was\nasleep, she got up with so little precaution, that she said loud\nenough for me to hear her distinctly,  \"Sleep on, and may you\nnever wake again!\" She dressed herself, and went out of the\nchamber.\n\nAs soon as the queen my wife was gone, I dressed myself in haste,\ntook my cimeter, and followed her so quickly, that I soon heard\nthe sound of her feet before me, and then walked softly after\nher, for fear of being heard. She passed through several gates,\nwhich opened upon her pronouncing some magical words, and the\nlast she opened was that of the garden, which she entered. I\nstopt at this gate, that she might not perceive me, as she passed\nalong a parterre; then looking after her as far as the darkness\nof the night permitted, I saw her enter a little wood, whose\nwalks were guarded by thick palisadoes. I went thither by another\nway, and concealing myself behind the palisadoes of a long walk,\nI saw her walking there with a man.\n\nI did not fail to lend the most attentive ear to their discourse,\nand heard her address herself thus to her gallant: \"I do not\ndeserve to be reproached by you for want of diligence. You well\nknow the reason; but if all the proofs of affection I have\nalready given you be not sufficient to convince you of my\nsincerity, I am ready to give you others more decisive: you need\nbut command me, you know my power; I will, if you desire it,\nbefore sun-rise convert this great city, and this superb palace,\ninto frightful ruins, inhabited only by wolves, owls, and revens.\nIf you would have me transport all the stones of those walls so\nsolidly built, beyond mount Caucasus, or the bounds of the\nhabitable world, speak but the word, and all shall be changed.\"\n\nAs the queen finished these words she and her lover came to the\nend of the walk, turned to enter another, and passed before me. I\nhad already drawn my cimeter, and her lover being next me, I\nstruck him on the neck, and brought him to the ground. I\nconcluded I had killed him, and therefore retired speedily\nwithout making myself known to the queen, whom I chose to spare,\nbecause she was my kinswoman.\n\nThe wound I had given her lover was mortal; but by her\nenchantments she preserved him in an existence in which he could\nnot be said to be either dead or alive. As I crossed the garden\nto return to the palace, I heard the queen loudly lamenting, and\njudging by her cries how much she was grieved, I was pleased that\nI had spared her life.\n\nAs soon as I had reached my apartment, I went to bed, and being\nsatisfied with having punished the villain who had injured me,\nfell asleep; and when I awoke next morning, found the queen\nlying. I cannot tell you whether she slept or not; but I arose,\nwent to my closet, and dressed myself. I afterwards held my\ncouncil. At my return, the queen, clad in mourning, her hair\ndishevelled, and part of it torn off, presented herself before\nme, and said; \"I come to beg your majesty not to be surprised to\nsee me in this condition. My heavy affliction is occasioned by\nintelligence of three distressing events which I have just\nreceived.\" \"Alas! what are they, madam?\" said I. \"The death of\nthe queen my dear mother,\" she replied, \"that of the king my\nfather killed in battle, and of one of my brothers, who has\nfallen down a precipice.\"\n\nI was not displeased that she used this pretext to conceal the\ntrue cause of her grief, and I concluded she had not suspected me\nof being the author of her lover's death. \"Madam,\" said I, \"so\nfar from blaming, I assure you I heartily commiserate your\nsorrow. I should feel surprise if you were insensible to such\nheavy calamities: weep on; your tears are so many proofs of your\ntenderness; but I hope that time and reflection will moderate\nyour grief.\"\n\nShe retired into her apartment, where, giving herself wholly up\nto sorrow, she spent a whole year in mourning and lamentation. At\nthe end of that period, she begged permission to erect a burying\nplace for herself, within the bounds of the palace, where she\nwould continue, she told me, to the end of her days: I consented,\nand she built a stately edifice, crowned by a cupola, which may\nbe seen from hence, and called it the Palace of Tears. When it\nwas finished, she caused her lover to be conveyed thither, from\nthe place to which she had caused him to be carried the night I\nwounded him: she had hitherto prevented his dying, by potions\nwhich she had administered to him; and she continued to convey\nthem to him herself every day after he came to the Palace of\nTears.\n\nYet, with all her enchantments, she could not cure him; he was\nnot only unable to walk or support himself, but had also lost the\nuse of his speech, and exhibited no sign of life except in his\nlooks. Though the queen had no other consolation but to see him,\nand to say to him all that her senseless passion could inspire,\nyet every day she made him two long visits. I was well apprised\nof this, but pretended ignorance.\n\nOne day my curiosity induced me to go to the Palace of Tears, to\nobserve how the princess employed herself, and from a place where\nshe could not see me, I heard her thus address her lover: \"I am\nafflicted to the highest degree to behold you in this condition;\nI am as sensible as yourself of the tormenting pain you endure;\nbut, dear soul, I am continually speaking to you, and you do not\nanswer me: how long will you remain silent? Speak only one word:\nalas! the sweetest moments of my life are these I spend here in\npartaking of your grief. I cannot live at a distance from you,\nand would prefer the pleasure of having you always before me, to\nthe empire of the universe.\"\n\nAt these words, which were several times interrupted by her sighs\nand sobs, I lost all patience: and discovering myself, came up to\nher, and said, \"Madam, you have wept enough, it is time to give\nover this sorrow, which dishonours both; you have too much\nforgotten what you owe to me and to yourself.\" \"Sire,\" said she,\n\"if you have any kindness or compassion for me left, I beseech\nyou to put no restraint upon me; allow me to indulge my grief,\nwhich it is impossible for time to assuage.\"\n\nWhen I perceived that my remonstrance, instead of restoring her\nto a sense of duty, served only to increase her anguish, I gave\nover and retired. She continued every day to visit her lover, and\nfor two whole years abandoned herself to grief and despair.\n\nI went a second time to the Palace of Tears, while she was there.\nI concealed myself again, and heard her thus address her lover:\n\"It is now three years since you spoke one word to me; you answer\nnot the proofs I give you of my love by my sighs and\nlamentations. Is it from insensibility, or contempt? O tomb! hast\nthou destroyed that excess of affection which he bare me? Hast\nthou closed those eyes that evinced so much love, and were all my\ndelight? No, no, this I cannot think. Tell me rather, by what\nmiracle thou becamest the depositary of the rarest treasure the\nworld ever contained.\"\n\nI must confess, my lord, I was enraged at these expressions; for,\nin truth, this beloved, this adored mortal, was by no means what\nyou would imagine him to have been. He was a black Indian, one of\nthe original natives of this country. I was so enraged at the\nlanguage addressed to him, that I discovered myself, and\napostrophising the tomb in my turn; I cried, \"O tomb! why dost\nnot thou swallow up that monster so revolting to human nature, or\nrather why dost not thou swallow up both the lover and his\nmistress?\"\n\nI had scarcely uttered these words, when the queen, who sat by\nthe black, rose up like a fury. \"Miscreant!\" said she \"thou art\nthe cause of my grief; do not think I am ignorant of this, I have\ndissembled too long. It was thy barbarous hand that brought the\nobjets of my fondness into this lamentable condition; and thou\nhast the cruelty to come and insult a despairing lover.\" \"Yes,\"\nsaid I, in a rage, \"it was I that chastised that monster,\naccording to his desert; I ought to have treated thee in the same\nmanner; I now repent that I did not; thou hast too long abused my\ngoodness.\" As I spoke these words, I drew out my cimeter, and\nlifted up my hand to punish her; but regarding me stedfastly, she\nsaid with a jeering smile, \"Moderate thy anger.\" At the same\ntime, she pronounced words I did not understand; and afterwards\nadded, \"By virtue of my enchantments, I command thee to become\nhalf marble and half man.\" Immediately, my lord, I became what\nyou see, a dead man among the living, and a living man among the\ndead.\n\nAfter the cruel sorceress, unworthy of the name of queen, had\nmetamorphosed me thus, and brought me into this hall, by another\nenchantment she destroyed my capital, which was very flourishing\nand populous; she annihilated the houses, the public places and\nmarkets, and reduced the site of the whole to the lake and desert\nplain you have seen; the fishes of four colours in the lake are\nthe four kinds of inhabitants of different religions, which the\ncity contained. The white are the Moosulmauns; the red, the\nPersians, who worship fire; the blue, the Christians and the\nyellow, the Jews. The four little hills were the four islands\nthat gave name to this kingdom. I learned all this from the\nenchantress, who, to add to my affliction, related to me these\neffects of her rage. But this is not all; her revenge not being\nsatisfied with the destruction of my dominions, and the\nmetamorphosis of my person, she comes every day, and gives me\nover my naked shoulders a hundred lashes with a whip until I am\ncovered with blood. When she has finished this part of my\npunishment, she throws over me a coarse stuff of goat's hair, and\nover that this robe of brocade, not to honour, but to mock me.\n\nWhen he came to this part of the narrative, the young king could\nnot restrain his tears; and the sultan was himself so affected by\nthe relation, that he could not find utterance for any words of\nconsolation. Shortly after, the young king, lifting up his eyes\nto heaven, exclaimed, \"Mighty creator of all things, I submit\nmyself to thy judgments, and to the decrees of thy providence: I\nendure my calamities with patience, since it is thy will things\nshould be as they are; but I hope thy infinite goodness will\nultimately reward me.\"\n\nThe sultan, greatly moved by the recital of this affecting story,\nand anxious to avenge the sufferings of the unfortunate prince,\nsaid to him, \"Inform me whither this perfidious sorceress\nretires, and where may be found her vile paramour, who is\nentombed before his death.\" \"My lord,\" replied the prince, \"her\nlover, as I have already told you, is lodged in the Palace of\nTears, in a superb tomb constructed in the form of a dome: this\npalace joins the castle on the side in which the gate is placed.\nAs to the queen, I cannot tell you precisely whither she retires,\nbut every day at sun-rise she goes to visit her paramour, after\nhaving executed her bloody vengeance upon me; and you see I am\nnot in a condition to defend myself. She carries to him the\npotion with which she had hitherto prevented his dying, and\nalways complains of his never having spoken to her since he was\nwounded.\"\n\n\"Prince,\" said the sultan, \"your condition can never be\nsufficiently deplored: no one can be more sensibly affected by\nyour misfortunes than I am. Never did any thing so extraordinary\nbefall any man, and those who write your history will have the\nadvantage of relating what surpasses all that has hitherto been\nrecorded. One thing only is wanting; the revenge to which you are\nentitled, and I will omit nothing in my power to effect it.\"\n\nIn his subsequent conversation with the young prince, the sultan\ntold him who he was, and for what purpose he had entered the\ncastle; and afterwards informed him of a mode of revenge which he\nhad devised. They agreed upon the measures they were to take for\naccomplishing their design, but deferred the execution of it till\nthe following day. In the mean time, the night being far spent,\nthe sultan took some rest; but the young prince passed the night\nas usual, without sleep, having never slept since he was\nenchanted, still indulging some hopes of being speedily delivered\nfrom his misery.\n\nNext morning the sultan arose with the dawn, and prepared to\nexecute his design, hiding his upper garment, which might\nencumber him; he then proceeded to the Palace of Tears. He found\nit lighted up with an infinite number of flambeaux of white wax,\nand perfumed by a delicious scent issuing from several censers of\nfine gold of admirable workmanship. As soon as he perceived the\nbed where the black lay, he drew his cimeter, and without\nresistance deprived him of his wretched life, dragged his corpse\ninto the court of the castle, and threw it into a well. After\nthis, he went and lay down in the black's bed, placed his cimeter\nunder the covering, and waited to complete his design.\n\nThe queen arrived shortly after. She first went into the chamber\nof her husband, the king of the Black Islands, stripped him, and\nwith unexampled barbarity gave him a hundred stripes. The\nunfortunate prince filled the palace with his lamentations, and\nconjured her in the most affecting tone to take pity on him; but\nthe cruel wretch ceased not till she had given the usual number\nof blows. \"You had no compassion on my lover,\" said she, \"and you\nare to expect none from me.\"\n\nAfter the enchantress had given the king, her husband, a hundred\nblows with the whip, she put on again his covering of goat's\nhair, and his brocade gown over all; she went afterwards to the\nPalace of Tears, and as she entered renewed her tears and\nlamentations: then approaching the bed, where she thought her\nparamour lay, \"What cruelty,\" cried she, \"was it to disturb the\nsatisfaction so tender and passionate a lover as I am? O cruel\nprince, who reproachest me that I am inhuman, when I make thee\nfeel the effects of my resentment! Does not thy barbarity surpass\nmy vengeance? Traitor! in attempting the life of the object which\nI adore, hast thou not robbed me of mine? Alas!\" said she,\naddressing herself to the sultan, conceiving him to be the black\n\"My sun, my life, will you always be silent! Are you resolved to\nlet me die, without affording me the comfort of hearing again\nfrom your own lips that you love me? My soul, speak one word to\nme at least, I conjure you.\"\n\nThe sultan, as if he had awaked out of a deep sleep, and\ncounterfeiting the pronunciation of the blacks, answered the\nqueen with a grave tone, \"There is no strength or power but in\nGod alone, who is almighty.\" At these words the enchantress, who\ndid not expect them, uttered a loud exclamation of joy. \"My dear\nlord,\" cried she, \"do not I deceive myself; is it certain that I\nhear you, and that you speak to me?\" \"Unhappy woman,\" said the\nsultan, \"art thou worthy that I should answer thee?\" \"Alas!\"\nreplied the queen, \"why do you reproach me thus?\" \"The cries,\"\nreturned the sultan, \"the groans and tears of thy husband, whom\nthou treatest every day with so much indignity and barbarity,\nprevent my sleeping night or day. Hadst thou disenchanted him, I\nshould long since have been cured, and have recovered the use of\nmy speech. This is the cause of my silence, of which you\ncomplain.\" \"Well,\" said the enchantress, \"to pacify you, I am\nready to execute your commands; would you have me restore him?\"\n\"Yes,\" replied the sultan; \"make haste to set him at liberty,\nthat I be no longer disturbed by his lamentations.\"\n\nThe enchantress went immediately out of the Palace of Tears; she\ntook a cup of water, and pronounced some words over it, which\ncaused it to boil, as if it had been on the fire. She afterwards\nproceeded to the young king her husband, and threw the water upon\nhim, saying, \"If the creator of all things did form thee as thou\nart at present; or if he be angry with thee, do not change; but\nif thou art in that condition merely by virtue of my\nenchantments, resume thy natural shape, and become what thou west\nbefore.\" She had scarcely spoken these words, when the prince,\nfinding himself restored to his former condition, rose up and\nreturned thanks to God. The enchantress then said to him, \"Get\nthee from this castle, and never return on pain of death.\" The\nyoung king, yielding to necessity, went away from the\nenchantress, without replying a word; and retired to a remote\nplace, where he patiently awaited the event of the design which\nthe sultan had so happily begun. Meanwhile, the enchantress\nreturned to the Palace of Tears, and supposing that she still\nspoke to the black, said, \"Dear love, I have done what you\nrequired; nothing now prevents your rising and giving me the\nsatisfaction of which I have so long been deprived.\"\n\nThe sultan, still counterfeiting the pronunciation of the blacks,\nsaid, \"What you have now done is by no means sufficient for my\ncure; you have only removed a part of the evil; you must cut it\nup by the root.\" \"My lovely black,\" resumed the queen, \"what do\nyou mean by the root?\" \"Wretched woman,\" replied the sultan,\n\"understand you not that I allude to the town, and its\ninhabitants, and the four islands, destroyed by thy enchantments?\nThe fish every night at midnight raise their heads out of the\nlake, and cry for vengeance against thee and me. This is the true\ncause of the delay of my cure. Go speedily, restore things to\ntheir former state, and at thy return I will give thee my hand,\nand thou shalt help me to arise.\"\n\nThe enchantress, inspired with hope from these words, cried out\nin a transport of joy, \"My heart, my soul, you shall soon be\nrestored to your health, for I will immediately do as you command\nme.\" Accordingly she went that instant, and when she came to the\nbrink of the lake, she took a little water in her hand, and\nsprinkling it, had no sooner pronounced some words over the fish\nand the lake, than the city was immediately restored. The fish\nbecame men, women, and children; Mahummedans, Christians,\nPersians, or Jews; freemen or slaves, as they were before: every\none having recovered his natural form. The houses and shops were\nimmediately filled with their inhabitants, who found all things\nas they were before the enchantment. The sultan's numerous\nretinue, who found themselves encamped in the largest square,\nwere astonished to see themselves in an instant in the middle of\na large, handsome, well-peopled city.\n\nTo return to the enchantress: As soon as she had effected this\nwonderful change, she returned with all expedition to the Palace\nof Tears, that she might receive her reward. \"My dear lord,\"\ncried she, as she entered, \"I come to rejoice with you in the\nreturn of your health: I have done all that you required of me,\nthen pray rise, and give me your hand.\" \"Come near,\" said the\nsultan, still counterfeiting the pronunciation of the blacks. She\ndid so. \"You are not near enough,\" he continued, \"approach\nnearer.\" She obeyed. He then rose up, and seizing her by the arm\nso suddenly, that she had not time to discover him, he with a\nblow of his cimeter cut her in two, so that one half fell one way\nand the other another. This done he left the body on the spot,\nand going out of the Palace of Tears, went to seek the young king\nof the Black Isles, who waited for him with great impatience.\nWhen he found him, \"Prince,\" said he, embracing him, \"rejoice;\nyou have now nothing to fear; your cruel enemy is dead.\"\n\nThe young prince returned thanks to the sultan in a manner that\nsufficiently the sincerity of his gratitude, and in return wished\nhim long life and happiness. \"You may henceforward,\" said the\nsultan, \"dwell peaceably in your capital, unless you will\naccompany me to mine, which is near: you shall there be welcome,\nand have as much honour and respect shown you as if you were in\nyour own kingdom.\" \"Potent monarch, to whom I am so much\nindebted,\" replied the king, \"you think then that you are near\nyour capital?\" \"Yes,\" said the sultan, \"I know it is not above\nfour or five hours' journey.\" \"It will take you a whole year to\nreturn,\" said the prince \"I do indeed believe that you came\nhither from your capital in the time you mention, because mine\nwas enchanted; but since the enchantment is taken off, things are\nchanged: however, this shall not prevent my following you, were\nit to the utmost corners of the earth. You are my deliverer, and\nthat I may give you proofs of my acknowledging this during my\nwhole life, I am willing to accompany you, and to leave my\nkingdom without regret.\"\n\nThe sultan was extremely surprised to understand that he was so\nfar from his dominions, and could not imagine how it could be.\nBut the young king of the Black Islands convinced him beyond a\npossibility of doubt. Then the sultan replied, \"It is no matter;\nthe trouble of returning to my own country is sufficiently\nrecompensed by the satisfaction of having obliged you, and by\nacquiring you for a son; for since you will do me the honour to\naccompany me, as I have no child, I look upon you as such, and\nfrom this moment appoint you my heir and successor.\"\n\nThe conversation between the sultan and the king of the Black\nIslands concluded with most affectionate embraces, after which\nthe young prince employed himself in making preparations for his\njourney, which were finished in three weeks, to the great regret\nof his court and subjects, who agreed to receive at his hands one\nof his nearest kindred for their monarch.\n\nAt length, the sultan and the young prince began their journey,\nwith a hundred camels laden with inestimable riches from the\ntreasury of the young king, followed by fifty handsome gentlemen\non horseback, perfectly well mounted and dressed They had a\npleasant journey; and when the sultan, who had sent couriers to\ngive advice of his delay, and of the adventure which had\noccasioned it, approached his capital, the principal officers\ncame to receive him, and to assure him that his long absence had\noccasioned no alteration in his empire. The inhabitants also came\nout in great crowds, received him with acclamations, and made\npublic rejoicings for several days.\n\nThe day after his arrival the sultan gave all his courtiers a\nvery ample account of the circumstances, which, contrary to his\nexpectation, had detained him so long. He acquainted them with\nhis having adopted the king of the Four Black Islands, who was\nwilling to leave a great kingdom, to accompany and live with him;\nand, in reward for their loyalty, he made each of them presents\naccording to their rank.\n\nAs for the fisherman, as he was the first cause of the\ndeliverance of the young prince, the sultan gave him a plentiful\nfortune, which made him and his family happy the rest of their\ndays.\n\n\n\n\n             STORY OF THE THREE CALENDERS, SONS OF\n           SULTANS; AND OF THE FIVE LADIES OF BAGDAD.\n\n\n\nIn the reign of Caliph Haroon al Rusheed, there was at Bagdad, a\nporter, who, notwithstanding his mean and laborious business, was\na fellow of wit and good humour. One morning as he was at the\nplace where he usually plyed, with a great basket, waiting for\nemployment, a handsome young lady, covered with a great muslin\nveil, accosted him, and said with a pleasant air, \"Hark you,\nporter, take your basket and follow me.\" The porter, charmed with\nthese words, pronounced in so agreeable a manner, took his basket\nimmediately, set it on his head, and followed the lady,\nexclaiming, \"O happy day, O day of good luck!\"\n\nIn a short time the lady stopped before a gate that was shut, and\nknocked: a Christian, with a venerable long white beard, opened\nit; and she put money into his hand, without speaking; but the\nChristian, who knew what she wanted, went in, and in a little\ntime, brought a large jug of excellent wine. \"Take this jug,\"\nsaid the lady to the porter, \"and put it in your basket.\" This\nbeing done, she commanded him to follow her; and as she\nproceeded, the porter continued his exclamation, \"O happy day!\nThis is a day of agreeable surprise and joy.\"\n\nThe lady stopped at a fruit-shop, where she bought several sorts\nof apples, apricots, peaches, quinces, lemons, citrons, oranges;\nmyrtles, sweet basil, lilies, jessamin, and some other flowers\nand fragrant plants; she bid the porter put all into his basket,\nand follow her. As she went by a butcher's stall, she made him\nweigh her twenty five pounds of his best meat, which she ordered\nthe porter to put also into his basket. At another shop, she took\ncapers, tarragon, cucumbers, sassafras, and other herbs,\npreserved in vinegar: at another, she bought pistachios, walnuts,\nfilberts, almonds, kernels of pine-apples, and such other fruits;\nand at another, all sorts of confectionery. When the porter had\nput all these things into his basket, and perceived that it grew\nfull, \"My good lady,\" said he, \"you ought to have given me notice\nthat you had so much provision to carry, and then I would have\nbrought a horse, or rather a camel, for the purpose; for if you\nbuy ever so little more, I shall not be able to bear it.\" The\nlady laughed at the fellow's pleasant humour, and ordered him\nstill to follow her.\n\nShe then went to a druggist, where she furnished herself with all\nmanner of sweet-scented waters, cloves, musk, pepper, ginger, and\na great piece of ambergris, and several other Indian spices; this\nquite filled the porter's basket, and she ordered him to follow\nher. They walked till they came to a magnificent house, whose\nfront was adorned with fine columns, and had a gate of ivory.\nThere they stopped, and the lady knocked softly.\n\nWhile the young lady and the porter waited for the opening of the\ngate, the porter made a thousand reflections. He wondered that\nsuch a fine lady should come abroad to buy provisions; he\nconcluded she could not be a slave, her air was too noble, and\ntherefore he thought she must needs be a woman of quality. Just\nas he was about to ask her some questions upon this head, another\nlady came to open the gate, and appeared to him so beautiful,\nthat he was perfectly surprised, or rather so much struck with\nher charms, that he had nearly suffered his basket to fall, for\nhe had never seen any beauty that equalled her.\n\nThe lady who brought the porter with her, perceiving his\ndisorder, and knowing the cause, was greatly diverted, and took\nso much pleasure in watching his looks, that she forgot the gate\nwas opened. \"Pray, Sister,\" said the beautiful portress, \"come\nin, what do you stay for? Do not you see this poor man so heavy\nladen, that he is scarcely able to stand,\"\n\nWhen she entered with the porter, the lady who had opened the\ngate shut it, and all three, after having passed through a\nsplendid vestibule, entered a spacious court, encompassed with an\nopen gallery, which had a communication with several apartments\nof extraordinary magnificence. At the farther end of the court\nthere was a platform, richly furnished, with a throne of amber in\nthe middle, supported by four columns of ebony, enriched with\ndiamonds and pearls of an extraordinary size, and covered with\nred satin embroidered with Indian gold of admirable workmanship.\nIn the middle of the court there was a fountain, faced with white\nmarble, and full of clear water, which was copiously supplied out\nof the mouth of a lion of brass.\n\nThe porter, though heavy laden, could not but admire the\nmagnificence of this house, and the excellent order in which\nevery thing was placed; but what particularly captivated his\nattention, was a third lady, who seemed to be more beautiful than\nthe second, and was seated upon the throne just mentioned; she\ndescended as soon as she saw the two others, and advanced towards\nthem: he judged by the respect which the other ladies showed her,\nthat she was the chief, in which he was not mistaken. This lady\nwas called Zobeide, she who opened the gate Safie, and she who\nwent to buy the provisions was named Amene.\n\nZobeide said to the two ladies, when she came to them, \"Sisters,\ndo not you see that this honest man is ready to sink under his\nburden, why do not you ease him of it?\" Then Amene and Safie took\nthe basket, the one before and the other behind; Zobeide also\nassisted, and all three together set it on the ground; then\nemptied it; and when they had done, the beautiful Amene took out\nmoney, and paid the porter liberally.\n\nThe porter was well satisfied with the money he had received; but\nwhen he ought to have departed, he could not summon sufficient\nresolution for the purpose. He was chained to the spot by the\npleasure of beholding three such beauties, who appeared to him\nequally charming; for Amene having now laid aside her veil,\nproved to be as handsome as either of the others. What surprised\nhim most was, that he saw no man about the house, yet most of the\nprovisions he had brought in, as the dry fruits, and the several\nsorts of cakes and confections, were adapted chiefly for those\nwho could drink and make merry.\n\nZobeide thought at first, that the porter staid only to take\nbreath, but perceiving that he remained too long, \"What do you\nwait for,\" said she, \"are you not sufficiently paid?\" And turning\nto Amene. she continued, \"Sister, give him something more, that\nhe may depart satisfied.\" \"Madam,\" replied the porter, \"it is not\nthat which detains me, I am already more than paid for my\nservices; I am sensible that I act rudely in staying longer than\nI ought, but I hope you will the goodness to pardon me, when I\ntell you, that I am astonished not to see a man with three ladies\nof such extraordinary beauty: and you know that a company of\nwomen without men is as melancholy as a company of men without\nwomen.\" To this he added several other pleasant things, to prove\nwhat he said, and did not forget the Bagdad proverb, \"That the\ntable is not completely furnished, except there be four in\ncompany:\" and so concluded, that since they were but three, they\nwanted another.\n\nThe ladies fell a laughing at the porter's reasoning; after which\nZobeide gravely addressed him, \"Friend, you presume rather too\nmuch; and though you do not deserve that I should enter into any\nexplanation with you, I have no objection to inform you that we\nare three sisters, who transact our affairs with so much secrecy\nthat no one knows any thing of them. We have but too much reason\nto be cautious of acquainting indiscreet persons with our\ncounsel; and a good author that we have read, says, \u0091Keep thy own\nsecret, and do not reveal it to any one. He that makes his secret\nknown it no longer its master. If thy own breast cannot keep thy\ncounsel, how canst thou expect the breast of another to be more\nfaithful?'\"\n\n\"My ladies,\" replied the porter, \"by your very air, I judged at\nfirst that you were persons of extraordinary merit, and I\nconceive that I am not mistaken. Though fortune has not given me\nwealth enough to raise me above my mean profession, yet I have\nnot omitted to cultivate my mind as much as I could, by reading\nbooks of science and history; and allow me, I beseech you, to\nsay, that I have also read in another author a maxim which I have\nalways happily followed: \u0091We conceal our secret from such persons\nonly as are known to all the world to want discretion, and would\nabuse our confidence; but we hesitate not to discover it to the\nprudent, because we know that with them it is safe.' A secret in\nmy keeping is as secure as if it were locked up in a cabinet, the\nkey of which is lost, and the door sealed up.\"\n\nZobeide perceiving that the porter was not deficient in wit, but\nthinking he wished to share in their festivity, answered him,\nsmiling, \"You know that we have been making preparations to\nregale ourselves, and that, as you have seen, at a considerable\nexpense; it is not just that you should now partake of the\nentertainment without contributing to the cost.\" The beautiful\nSafie seconded her sister, and said to the porter, \"Friend. have\nyou never heard the common saying, \u0091If you bring something with\nyou, you shall carry something away, but if you bring nothing,\nyou shall depart empty?'\"\n\nThe porter, notwithstanding his rhetoric, must, in all\nprobability, have retired in confusion, if Amene had not taken\nhis part, and said to Zobeide and Safie, \"My dear sisters, I\nconjure you to let him remain; I need not tell you that he will\nafford us some diversion, of this you perceive he is capable: I\nassure you, had it not been for his readiness, his alacrity, and\ncourage to follow me, I could not have done so much business, in\nso short a time; besides, where I to repeat to you all the\nobliging expressions he addressed to me by the way, you would not\nfeel surprised at my taking his part.\"\n\nAt these words of Amene, the porter was so transported with joy,\nthat he fell on his knees, kissed the ground at her feet, and\nraising himself up, said, \"Most beautiful lady, you began my good\nfortune to-day, and now you complete it by this generous conduct;\nI cannot adequately express my acknowledgments. As to the rest,\nladies,\" said he, addressing himself to all the three sisters,\n\"since you do me so great an honour, do not think that I will\nabuse it, or look upon myself as deserving of the distinction.\nNo, I shall always look upon myself as one of your most humble\nslaves.\" When he had spoken these words he would have returned\nthe money he had received, but Zobeide ordered him to keep it.\n\"What we have once given,\" said she, \"to reward those who have\nserved us, we never take back. My friend, in consenting to your\nstaying with us, I must forewarn you, that it is not the only\ncondition we impose upon you that you keep inviolable the secret\nwe may entrust to you, but we also require you to attend to the\nstrictest rules of good manners.\" During this address, the\ncharming Amene put off the apparel she went abroad with, and\nfastened her robe to her girdle that she might act with the\ngreater freedom; she then brought in several sorts of meat, wine,\nand cups of gold. Soon after, the ladies took their places, and\nmade the porter sit down by them, who was overjoyed to see\nhimself seated with three such admirable beauties. After they had\neaten a little, Amene took a cup, poured some wine into it, and\ndrank first herself; she then filled the cup to her sisters, who\ndrank in course as they sat; and at last she filled it the fourth\ntime for the porter, who, as he received it, kissed Amene's hand;\nand before he drank, sung a song to this purpose. That as the\nwind bears with it the sweet scents of the purfumed places over\nwhich it passes, so the wine he was going to drink, coming from\nher fair hands, received a more exquisite flavour than it\nnaturally possessed. The song pleased the ladies much, and each\nof them afterwards sung one in her turn. In short, they were all\nvery pleasant during the repast, which lasted a considerable\ntime, and nothing was wanting that could serve to render it\nagreeable. The day drawing to a close, Safie spoke in the name of\nthe three ladies, and said to the porter, \"Arise, it is time for\nyou to depart.\" But the porter, not willing to leave good\ncompany, cried, \"Alas! ladies, whither do you command me to go in\nmy present condition? What with drinking and your society, I am\nquite beside myself. I shall never find the way home; allow me\nthis night to recover myself, in any place you please, but go\nwhen I will, I shall leave the best part of myself behind.\"\n\nAmene pleaded the second time for the porter, saying, \"Sisters,\nhe is right, I am pleased with the request, he having already\ndiverted us so well; and, if you will take my advice, or if you\nlove me as much as I think you do, let us keep him for the\nremainder of the night.\" \"Sister,\" answered Zobeide, \"we can\nrefuse you nothing;\" and then turning to the porter, said, \"We\nare willing once more to grant your request, but upon this new\ncondition, that, whatever we do in your presence relating either\nto ourselves or any thing else, you do not so much as open your\nmouth to ask the reason; for if you put any questions respecting\nwhat does not concern you, you may chance to hear what you will\nnot like; beware therefore, and be not too inquisitive to pry\ninto the motives of our actions.\n\n\"Madam,\" replied the porter, \"I promise to abide by this\ncondition, that you shall have no cause to complain, and far less\nto punish my indiscretion; my tongue shall be immovable on this\noccasion, and my eye like a looking-glass, which retains nothing\nof the objets that is set before it.\" \"To shew you,\" said Zobeide\nwith a serious countenance, \"that what we demand of you is not a\nnew thing among us, read what is written over our gate on the\ninside.\"\n\nThe porter went and read these words, written in large characters\nof gold: \"He who speaks of things that do not concern him, shall\nhear things that will not please him.\" Returning again to the\nthree sisters, \"Ladies,\" said he, \"I swear to you that you shall\nnever hear me utter a word respecting what does not relate to me,\nor wherein you may have any concern.\"\n\nThese preliminaries being settled, Amene brought in supper, and\nafter she had lighted up the room with tapers, made of aloe-wood\nand ambergris, which yield a most agreeable perfume, as well as a\ndelicate light, she sat down with her sisters and the porter.\nThey began again to eat and drink, to sing, and repeat verses.\nThe ladies diverted themselves in intoxicating the porter, under\npretext of making him drink their healths, and the repast was\nenlivened by reciprocal flashes of wit. When they were all in the\nbest humour possible, they heard a knocking at the gate.\n\nWhen the ladies heard the knocking, they all three got up to open\nthe gate; but Safie was the nimblest; which her sisters\nperceiving, they resumed their seats. Safie returning, said,\n\"Sisters, we have a very fine opportunity of passing a good part\nof the night pleasantly, and if you agree with me, you will not\nsuffer it to go by. There are three calenders at our gate, at\nleast they appear to be such by their habit; but what will\nsurprise you is, they are all three blind of the right eye, and\nhave their heads, beards, and eye-brows shaved. They say, they\nare but just come to Bagdad, where they never were before; it\nbeing night, and not knowing where to find a lodging, they\nhappened by chance to knock at this gate, and pray us, for the\nlove of heaven, to have compassion on them, and receive them into\nthe house. They care not what place we put them in, provided they\nmay be under shelter; they would be satisfied with a stable. They\nare young and handsome, and seem not to want spirit. But I cannot\nwithout laughing think of their amusing and uniform figure.\" Here\nSafie laughed so heartily, that the two sisters and the porter\ncould not refrain from laughing also. \"My dear sisters,\" said\nshe, \"you will permit them to come in; it is impossible but that\nwith such persons as I have described them to be, we shall finish\nthe day better than we began it; they will afford us diversion\nenough, and put us to no charge, because they desire shelter only\nfor this night, and resolve to leave us as soon as day appears.\"\n\nZobeide and Amene made some difficulty to grant Safie's request,\nfor reasons which she herself well knew. But being very desirous\nto obtain this favour, they could not refuse her; \"Go then,\" said\nZobeide, \"and bring them in, but do not forget to acquaint them\nthat they must not speak of any thing which does not concern\nthem, and cause them to read what is written over the gate.\"\nSafie ran out with joy, and in a little time after returned with\nthe three calenders.\n\nAt their entrance they made a profound obeisance to the ladies,\nwho rose up to receive them, and told them courteously that they\nwere welcome, that they were glad of the opportunity to oblige\nthem, and to contribute towards relieving the fatigues of their\njourney, and at last invited them to sit down with them.\n\nThe magnificence of the place, and the civility they received,\ninspired the calenders with high respect for the ladies: but,\nbefore they sat down, having by chance cast their eyes upon the\nporter, whom they saw clad almost like those devotees with whom\nthey have continual disputes respecting several points of\ndiscipline, because they never shave their beards nor eye-brows;\none of them said, \"I believe we have got here one of our revolted\nArabian brethren.\"\n\nThe porter having his head warm with wine, took offence and with\na fierce look, without stirring from his place, answered, \"Sit\nyou down, and do not meddle with what does not concern you: have\nyou not read the inscription over the gate? Do not pretend to\nmake people live after your fashion, but follow ours.\"\n\n\"Honest man,\" said the calender, \"do not put yourself in a\npassion; we should be sorry to give you the least occasion; on\nthe contrary, we are ready to receive your commands.\" Upon which,\nto put an end to the dispute, the ladies interposed, and pacified\nthem. When the calenders were seated, the ladies served them with\nmeat; and Safie, being highly pleased with them, did not let them\nwant for wine.\n\nAfter the calenders had eaten and drunk liberally, they signified\nto the ladies, that they wished to entertain them with a concert\nof music, if they had any instruments in the house, and would\ncause them to be brought: they willingly accepted the proposal,\nand fair Safie going to fetch them, returned again in a moment,\nand presented them with a flute of her own country fashion,\nanother of the Persian, and a tabor. Each man took the instrument\nhe liked, and all three together began to play a tune The ladies,\nwho knew the words of a merry song that suited the air, joined\nthe concert with their voices; but the words of the song made\nthem now and then stop, and fall into excessive laughter.\n\nIn the height of this diversion, when the company were in the\nmidst of their jollity, a knocking was heard at the gate; Safie\nleft off singing, and went to see who it was. The caliph Haroon\nal Rusheed was frequently in the habit of walking abroad in\ndisguise by night, that he might discover if every thing was\nquiet in the city, and see that no disorders were committed.\n\nThis night the caliph went out on his rambles, accompanied by\nJaaffier his grand vizier, and Mesrour the chief of the eunuchs\nof his palace, all disguised in merchants' habits; and passing\nthrough the street where the three ladies dwelt, he heard the\nsound of music and fits of loud laughter; upon which he commanded\nthe vizier, to knock, as he wished to enter to ascertain the\nreason. The vizier, in vain represented to him that the noise\nproceeded from some women who were merry-making, that without\nquestion their heads were warm with wine, and that it would not\nbe proper he should expose himself to be affronted by them:\nbesides, it was not yet an unlawful hour, and therefore he ought\nnot to disturb them in their mirth. \"No matter,\" said the caliph,\n\"I command you to knock.\" Jaaffier complied; Safie opened the\ngate, and the vizier, perceiving by the light in her hand, that\nshe was an incomparable beauty, with a very low salutation said,\n\"We are three merchants of Mossoul, who arrived here about ten\ndays ago with rich merchandise, which we have in a warehouse at a\ncaravan-serai, where we have also our lodging. We happened this\nevening to be with a merchant of this city, who invited us to his\nhouse, where we had a splendid entertainment: and the wine having\nput us in good humour, he sent for a company of dancers. Night\nbeing come on, and the music and dancers making a great noise,\nthe watch, passing by, caused the gate to be opened and some of\nthe company to be taken up; but we had the good fortune to escape\nby getting over the wall. Being strangers, and somewhat overcome\nwith wine, we are afraid of meeting that or some other watch,\nbefore we get home to our khan. Besides, before we can arrive\nthere the gates will be shut, and will not be opened till\nmorning: wherefore, hearing, as we passed by this way, the sound\nof music, we supposed you were not yet going to rest, and made\nbold to knock at your gate, to beg the favour of lodging\nourselves in the house till morning; and if you think us worthy\nof your good company, we will endeavour to contribute to your\ndiversion to the best of our power, to make some amends for the\ninterruption we have given you; if not, we only beg the favour of\nstaying this night in your vestibule.\"\n\nWhilst Jaaffier was speaking, Safie had time to observe the\nvizier, and his two companions, who were said to be merchants\nlike himself, and told them that she was not mistress of the\nhouse; but if they would have a minute's patience, she would\nreturn with an answer.\n\nSafie made the business known to her sisters, who considered for\nsome time what to do: but being naturally of a good disposition,\nand having granted the same favour to the three calenders, they\nat last consented to let them in.\n\nThe caliph, his grand vizier, and the chief of the eunuchs, being\nintroduced by the fair Safie, very courteously saluted the ladies\nand the calenders. The ladies returned their salutations,\nsupposing them to be merchants. Zobeide, as the chief, addressed\nthem with a grave and serious countenance, which was natural to\nher, and said, \"You are welcome. But before I proceed farther, I\nhope you will not take it ill if we desire one favour of you.\"\n\"Alas!\" said the vizier, \"what favour? We can refuse nothing to\nsuch fair ladies.\" Zobeide continued, \"It is that, while here,\nyou would have eyes, but no tongues; that you question us not for\nthe reason of any thing you may see, and speak not of any thing\nthat does not concern you, lest you hear what will by no means\nplease you.\"\n\n\"Madam,\" replied the vizier, \"you shall be obeyed. We are not\ncensorious, nor impertinently curious; it is enough for us to\nnotice affairs that concern us, without meddling with what does\nnot belong to us.\" Upon this they all sat down, and the company\nbeing united, they drank to the health of the new-comers.\n\nWhile the vizier, entertained the ladies in conversation, the\ncaliph could not forbear admiring their extraordinary beauty,\ngraceful behaviour, pleasant humour, and ready wit; on the other\nhand, nothing struck him with more surprise than the calenders\nbeing all three blind of the right eye. He would gladly have\nlearnt the cause of this singularity; but the conditions so\nlately imposed upon himself and his companions would not allow\nhim to speak. These circumstances, with the richness of the\nfurniture, the exact order of every thing, and the neatness of\nthe house, made him think they were in some enchanted place.\n\nTheir conversation happening to turn upon diversions, and the\ndifferent ways of making merry; the calenders arose, and danced\nafter their fashion, which augmented the good opinion the ladies\nhad conceived of them, and procured them the esteem of the caliph\nand his companions.\n\nWhen the three calenders had finished their dance, Zobeide arose,\nand taking Amene by the hand, said, \"Pray, sister, arise, for the\ncompany will not be offended if we use our freedom, and their\npresence need not hinder the performance of our customary\nexercise.\" Amene understanding her sister's meaning, rose from\nher seat, carried away the dishes, the flasks and cups, together\nwith the instruments which the calenders had played upon.\n\nSafie was not idle, but swept the room, put every thing again in\nits place, trimmed the lamps, and put fresh aloes and ambergris\nto them; this being done, she requested the three calenders to\nsit down upon the sofa at one side, and the caliph with his\ncompanions on the other: then addressing herself to the porter,\nshe said, \"Get up, and prepare yourself to assist us in what we\nare going to do; a man like you, who is one of the family, ought\nnot to be idle.\" The porter, being somewhat recovered from his\nwine, arose immediately, and having tied the sleeve of his gown\nto his belt, answered, \"Here am I, ready to obey your commands.\"\n\"Very well,\" replied Safie, \"stay till you are spoken to; and you\nshall not be idle long.\" A little time after, Amene came in with\na chair, which she placed in the middle of the room; and then\nwent towards a closet. Having opened the door, she beckoned to\nthe porter, and said, \"Come hither and assist me.\" He obeyed, and\nentered the closet, and returned immediately, leading two black\nbitches, each of them secured by a collar and chain; they\nappeared as if they had been severely whipped with rods, and he\nbrought them into the middle of the apartment.\n\nZobeide, rising from her seat between the calenders and the\ncaliph, moved very gravely towards the porter; \"Come,\" said she,\nheaving a deep sigh, \"let us perform our duty:\" she then tucked\nup her sleeves above her elbows, and receiving a rod from Safie,\n\"Porter,\" said she, \"deliver one of the bitches to my sister\nAmene, and bring the other to me.\"\n\nThe porter did as he was commanded. Upon this the bitch that he\nheld in his hand began to howl, and turning towards Zobeide, held\nher head up in a supplicating posture; but Zobeide, having no\nregard to the sad countenance of the animal, which would have\nmoved pity, nor to her cries that resounded through the house,\nwhipped her with the rod till she was out of breath; and having\nspent her strength, threw down the rod, and taking the chain from\nthe porter, lifted up the bitch by her paws, and looking upon her\nwith a sad and pitiful countenance, they both wept: after which,\nZobeide, with her handkerchief, wiped the tears from the bitch's\neye, kissed her, returned the chain to the porter, desired him to\ncarry her to the place whence he took her, and bring her the\nother. The porter led back the whipped bitch to the closet, and\nreceiving the other from Amene, presented her to Zobeide, who\nrequested him to hold her as he had done the first, took up the\nrod, and treated her after the same manner; and when she had wept\nover her, she dried her eyes, kissed her, and returned her to the\nporter: but Amene spared him the trouble of leading her back into\nthe closet, and did it herself. The three calenders, with the\ncaliph and his companions, were extremely surprised at this\nexhibition, and could not comprehend why Zobeide, after having so\nfuriously beaten those two bitches, that by the moosulman\nreligion are reckoned unclean animals, should weep with them,\nwipe off their tears, and kiss them. They muttered among\nthemselves, and the caliph, who, being more impatient than the\nrest, longed exceedingly to be informed of the cause of so\nstrange a proceeding, could not forbear making signs to the\nvizier to ask the question: the vizier turned his head another\nway; but being pressed by repeated signs, he answered by others,\nthat it was not yet time for the caliph to satisfy his curiosity.\n\nZobeide sat still some time in the middle of the room, where she\nhad whipped the two bitches, to recover herself of her fatigue;\nand Safie called to her, \"Dear sister, will you not be pleased to\nreturn to your place, that I may also aft my part?\" \"Yes,\nsister,\" replied Zobeide; and then went, and sat down upon the\nsofa, having the caliph, Jaaffier, and Mesrour, on her right\nhand, and the three calenders, with the porter, on her left.\n\nAfter Zobeide had taken her seat, the whole company remained\nsilent for some time; at last, Safie, sitting on a chair in the\nmiddle of the room, spoke to her sister Amene, \"Dear sister, I\nconjure you to rise; you know what I would say.\" Amene rose, and\nwent into another closet, near to that where the bitches were,\nand brought out a case covered with yellow satin, richly\nembroidered with gold and green silk. She went towards Safie and\nopened the case, from whence she took a lute, and presented it to\nher: and after some time spent in tuning it, Safie began to play,\nand accompanying the instrument with her voice, sung a song about\nthe torments that absence creates to lovers, with so much\nsweetness, that it charmed the caliph and all the company. Having\nsung with much passion and action, she said to Amene, \"Pray take\nit, sister, for my voice fails me; oblige the company with a\ntune, and a song in my stead.\" \"Very willingly,\" replied Amene,\nwho, taking the lute from her sister Safie, sat down in her\nplace.\n\nAmene played and sung almost as long upon the same subject, but\nwith so much vehemence, and was so much affected, or rather\ntransported, by the words of the song, that her strength failed\nher as she finished.\n\nZobeide, desirous of testifying her satisfaction, said, \"Sister,\nyou have done wonders, and we may easily see that you feel the\ngrief you have expressed in so lively a manner.\" Amene was\nprevented from answering this civility, her heart being so\nsensibly touched at the moment, that she was obliged, for air, to\nuncover her neck and bosom, which did not appear so fair as might\nhave been expected; but, on the contrary, were black and full of\nscars, which surprised and affected all the spectators. However,\nthis gave her no ease, for she fell into a fit.\n\nWhen Zobeide and Safie had run to help their sister, one of the\ncalenders could not forbear saying, \"We had better have slept in\nthe streets than have come hither to behold such spectacles.\" The\ncaliph, who heard this, came to him and the other calenders, and\nasked them what might be the meaning of all this? They answered,\n\"We know no more than you do.\" \"What,\" said the caliph, \"are you\nnot of the family? Can you not resolve us concerning the two\nblack bitches and the lady that fainted away, who appears to have\nbeen so basely abused?\" \"Sir,\" said the calenders, \"this is the\nfirst time of our being in the house; we came in but a few\nminutes before you.\"\n\nThis increased the caliph's astonishment: \"Probably,\" said he,\n\"this man who is with you may know something of the matter.\" One\nof the calenders beckoned the porter to come near; and asked him,\nwhether he knew why those two black bitches had been whipped, and\nwhy Amene's bosom was so scarred. \"Sir,\" said the porter, \"I can\nswear by heaven, that if you know nothing of all this, I know as\nlittle as you do. It is true, I live in this city, but I never\nwas in the house until now, and if you are surprised to see me I\nam as much so to find myself in your company; and that which\nincreases my wonder is, that I have not seen one man with these\nladies.\"\n\nThe caliph and his company, as well as the calenders, had\nsupposed the porter to be one of the family, and hoped he would\nhave been able to give them the information they sought; but\nfinding he could not, and resolving to satisfy his curiosity, the\ncaliph said to the rest, \"We are seven men, and have but three\nwomen to deal with; let us try if we can oblige them to explain\nwhat we have seen, and if they refuse by fair means, we are in a\ncondition to compel them by force.\"\n\nThe grand vizier Jaaffier objected to this, and shewed the caliph\nwhat might be the consequence. Without discovering the prince to\nthe calenders, he addressed him as if he had been a merchant, and\nsaid, \"Consider, I pray you, that our reputation is at stake. You\nknow the conditions on which these ladies consented to receive\nus, and which we agreed to observe; what will they say of us if\nwe break them? We shall be still more to blame, if any mischief\nbefall us; for it is not likely that they would have extorted\nsuch a promise from us, without knowing themselves to be in a\ncondition to punish us for its violation.\"\n\nHere the vizier took the caliph aside, and whispered to him, \"The\nnight will soon be at an end, and if your majesty will only be\npleased to have so much patience, I will to-morrow morning bring\nthese ladies before your throne, where you may be informed of all\nthat you desire to know.\" Though this advice was very judicious,\nthe caliph rejected it, desired the vizier to hold his tongue,\nand said, he would not wait so long, but would immediately have\nhis curiosity satisfied.\n\nThe next business was to settle who should carry the message. The\ncaliph endeavoured to prevail with the calenders to speak first;\nbut they excused themselves, and at last they agreed that the\nporter should be the man: as they were consulting how to word\nthis fatal question, Zobeide returned from her sister Amene, who\nwas recovered of her fit. She drew near them, and having\noverheard them speaking pretty loud, said, \"Gentlemen, what is\nthe subject of your conversation? What are you disputing about?\"\n\nThe porter answered immediately, \"Madam, these gentlemen beseech\nyou to inform them why you wept over your two bitches after you\nhad whipped them so severely, and how the bosom of that lady who\nlately fainted away came to be so full of scars? These are the\nquestions I am ordered to ask in their name.\"\n\nAt these words, Zobeide put on a stern countenance, and turning\ntowards the caliph and the rest of the company, \"Is it true,\ngentlemen,\" said she, \"that you desired him to ask me these\nquestions?\" All of them, except the vizier Jaaffier, who spoke\nnot a word, answered, \"Yes.\" On which she exclaimed, in a tone\nthat sufficiently expressed her resentment, \"Before we granted\nyou the favour of receiving you into our house, and to prevent\nall occasion of trouble from you, because we are alone, we\nimposed the condition that you should not speak of any thing that\ndid not concern you, lest you might hear that which would not\nplease you; and yet after having received and entertained you,\nyou make no scruple to break your promise. It is true that our\neasy temper has occasioned this, but that shall not excuse your\nrudeness.\" As she spoke these words, she gave three stamps with\nher foot, and clapping her hands as often together, cried, \"Come\nquickly:\" upon this, a door flew open, and seven black slaves\nrushed in; every one seized a man, threw him on the ground, and\ndragged him into the middle of the room, brandishing a cimeter\nover his head.\n\nWe may easily conceive the caliph then repented, but too late,\nthat he had not taken the advice of his vizier, who, with\nMesrour, the calenders and porter, was from his ill-timed\ncuriosity on the point of forfeiting his life. Before they would\nstrike the fatal blow, one of the slaves said to Zobeide, and her\nsisters: \"High, mighty, and adorable mistresses, do you command\nus to strike off their heads?\" \"Stay,\" said Zobeide, \"I must\nexamine them first.\" The frightened porter interrupted her thus:\n\"In the name of heaven, do not put me to death for another man's\ncrime. I am innocent; they are to blame.\" \"Alas!\" said he,\nweeping, \"how pleasantly did we pass our time! those blind\ncalenders are the cause of this misfortune; there is no town in\nthe world but suffers wherever these inauspicious fellows come.\nMadam, I beg you not to destroy the innocent with the guilty, and\nconsider, that it is more glorious to pardon such a wretch as I\nam, who have no way to help myself, than to sacrifice me to your\nresentment.\"\n\nZobeide, notwithstanding her anger, could not but laugh within\nherself at the porter's lamentation: but without replying to him,\nshe spoke a second time to the rest; \"Answer me, and say who you\nare, otherwise you shall not live one moment longer: I cannot\nbelieve you to be honest men, or persons of authority or\ndistinction in your own countries; for if you were, you would\nhave been more modest and more respectful to us.\"\n\nThe caliph, naturally warm, was infinitely more indignant than\nthe rest, to find his life depending upon the command of a woman:\nbut he began to conceive some hopes, when he found she wished to\nknow who they all were; for he imagined she would not put him to\ndeath, when informed of his quality; therefore he spoke with a\nlow voice to the vizier, who was near him, to declare it\nspeedily: but the vizier, more prudent, resolved to save his\nmaster's honour, and not let the world know the affront he had\nbrought upon himself by his own imprudence; and therefore\nanswered, \"We have what we deserve.\" But if he had intended to\nspeak as the caliph commanded him, Zobeide would not have allowed\nhim time: for having turned to the calenders, and seeing them all\nblind with one eye, she asked if they were brothers. One of them\nanswered, \"No, madam, no otherwise than as we are calenders; that\nis to say, as we observe the same rules.\" \"Were you born blind of\nthe right eye,\" continued she? \"No, madam,\" answered he; \"I lost\nmy eye in such a surprising adventure, that it would be\ninstructive to every body were it in writing: after that\nmisfortune I shaved my beard and eyebrows, and took the habit of\na calender which I now wear.\"\n\nZobeide asked the other two calenders the same question, and had\nthe same answers; but the last who spoke added, \"Madam, to shew\nyou that we are no common fellows, and that you may have some\nconsideration for us, be pleased to know, that we are all three\nsons of sultans; and though we never met together till this\nevening, yet we have had time enough to make that known to one\nanother; and I assure you that the sultans from whom we derive\nour being were famous in the world.\"\n\nAt this discourse Zobeide suppressed her anger, and said to the\nslaves, \"Give them their liberty a while, but remain where you\nare. Those who tell us their history, and the occasion of their\ncoming, do them no hurt, let them go where they please; but do\nnot spare those who refuse to give us that satisfaction.\"\n\nThe three calendars, the caliph, the grand vizier, Jaaffier, the\neunuch Mesrour, and the porter, were all in the middle of the\nhall, seated upon a carpet in the presence of the three ladies,\nwho reclined upon a sofa, and the slaves stood ready to do\nwhatever their mistresses should command.\n\nThe porter, understanding that he might extricate himself from\ndanger by telling his history, spoke first, and said, \"Madam, you\nknow my history already, and the occasion of my coming hither; so\nthat what I have to say will be very short. My lady, your sister,\ncalled me this morning at the place where I plyed as porter to\nsee if any body would employ me, that I might get my bread; I\nfollowed her to a vintner's, then to a herb-shop, then to one\nwhere oranges, lemons, and citrons were sold, then to a grocer's,\nnext to a confectioner's, and a druggist's, with my basket upon\nmy head as full as I was able to carry it; then I came hither,\nwhere you had the goodness to suffer me to continue till now, a\nfavour that I shall never forget. This, madam, is my history.\"\n\nWhen the porter had done, Zobeide said to him, \"Depart, let us\nsee you here no more.\" \"Madam,\" replied the porter, \"I beg you to\nlet me stay; it would not be just, after the rest have had the\npleasure to hear my history, that I should not also have the\nsatisfaction of hearing theirs.\" And having spoken thus, he sat\ndown at the end of the sofa, glad at heart to have escaped the\ndanger that had frightened him so much. After him, one of the\nthree calenders directing his speech to Zobeide, as the principal\nof the three ladies, began thus:\n\n\n\n\n              The History of the First Calender.\n\n\n\nMadam, in order to inform you how I lost my right eye, and why I\nwas obliged to put myself into a calender's habit, I must tell\nyou, that I am a sultan's son born: my father had a brother who\nreigned over a neighbouring kingdom; and the prince his son and I\nwere nearly of the same age.\n\nAfter I had learned my exercises, the sultan my father granted me\nsuch liberty as suited my dignity. I went regularly every year to\nsee my uncle, at whose court I amused myself for a month or two,\nand then returned again to my father's. These journeys cemented a\nfirm and intimate friendship between the prince my cousin and\nmyself. The last time I saw him, he received me with greater\ndemonstrations of tenderness than he had done at any time before;\nand resolving one day to give me a treat, he made great\npreparations for that purpose. We continued a long time at table,\nand after we had both supped; \"Cousin,\" said he, \"you will hardly\nbe able to guess how I have been employed since your last\ndeparture from hence, about a year past. I have had a great many\nmen at work to perfect a design I have formed; I have caused an\nedifice to be built, which is now finished so as to be habitable:\nyou will not be displeased if I shew it you. But first you are to\npromise me upon oath, that you will keep my secret, according to\nthe confidence I repose in you.\"\n\nThe affection and familiarity that subsisted between us would not\nallow me to refuse him any thing. I very readily took the oath\nrequired of me: upon which he said to me, \"Stay here till I\nreturn, I will be with you in a moment; and accordingly he came\nwith a lady in his hand, of singular beauty, and magnificently\napparelled: he did not intimate who she was, neither did I think\nit would be polite to enquire. We sat down again with this lady\nat table, where we continued some time, conversing upon\nindifferent subjects; and now and then filling a glass to each\nother's health. After which the prince said, \"Cousin, we must\nlose no time; therefore pray oblige me by taking this lady along\nwith you, and conducting her to such a place, where you will see\na tomb newly built in form of a dome: you will easily know it;\nthe gate is open; enter it together, and tarry till I come, which\nwill be very speedily.\"\n\nBeing true to my oath, I made no farther enquiry, but took the\nlady by the hand, and by the directions which the prince my\ncousin had given me, I brought her to the place. We were scarcely\ngot thither, when we saw the prince following us, carrying a\npitcher of water, a hatchet, and a little bag of mortar.\n\nThe hatchet served him to break down the empty sepulchre in the\nmiddle of the tomb; he took away the stones one after another,\nand laid them in a corner; he then dug up the ground, where I saw\na trap-door under the sepulchre, which he lifted up, and\nunderneath perceived the head of a staircase leading into a\nvault. Then my cousin, speaking to the lady, said, \"Madam, it is\nby this way that we are to go to the place I told you of:\" upon\nwhich the lady advanced, and went down, and the prince began to\nfollow; but first turning to me, said, \"My dear cousin, I am\ninfinitely obliged to you for the trouble you have taken; I thank\nyou. Adieu.\" \"Dear cousin,\" I cried, \"what is the meaning of\nthis?\" \"Be content,\" replied he; \"you may return the way you\ncame.\"\n\nI could get nothing farther from him, but was obliged to take my\nleave. As I returned to my uncle's palace, the vapours of the\nwine got up into my head; however, I reached my apartment, and\nwent to bed. Next morning, when I awoke, I began to reflect upon\nwhat had happened, and after recollecting all the circumstances\nof such a singular adventure, I fancied it was nothing but a\ndream. Full of these thoughts, I sent to enquire if the prince my\ncousin was ready to receive a visit from me; but when they\nbrought word back that he did not lie in his own lodgings that\nnight, that they knew not what was become of him, and were in\nmuch trouble in consequence, I conceived that the strange event\nof the tomb was too true. I was sensibly afflicted, and went to\nthe public burying-place, where there were several tombs like\nthat which I had seen: I spent the day in viewing them one after\nanother, but could not find that I sought for, and thus I spent\nfour days successively in vain.\n\nYou must know, that all this while the sultan my uncle was\nabsent, and had been hunting for several days; I grew weary of\nwaiting for him, and having prayed his ministers to make my\napology at his return, left his palace, and set out towards my\nfather's court. I left the ministers of the sultan my uncle in\ngreat trouble, surmising what was become of the prince: but\nbecause of my oath to keep his secret, I durst not tell them what\nI had seen.\n\nI arrived at my father's capital, where, contrary to custom, I\nfound a numerous guard at the gate of the palace, who surrounded\nme as I entered. I asked the reason, and the commanding officer\nreplied, \"Prince, the army has proclaimed the grand vizier,\ninstead of your father, who is dead, and I take you prisoner in\nthe name of the new sultan.\" At these words the guards laid hold\nof me, and carried me before the tyrant: I leave you to judge,\nmadam, how much I was surprised and grieved.\n\nThis rebel vizier, had long entertained a mortal hatred against\nme; for this reason. When I was a stripling, I loved to shoot\nwith a cross-bow; and being one day upon the terrace of the\npalace with my bow, a bird happening to come by, I shot but\nmissed him, and the ball by misfortune hit the vizier, who was\ntaking the air upon the terrace of his own house, and put out one\nof his eyes. As soon as I understood this, I not only sent to\nmake my excuse to him, but did it in person: yet he never forgave\nme, and, as opportunity offered, made me sensible of his\nresentment. But now that he had me in his power, he expressed his\nfeelings; for he came to me like a madman, as soon as he saw me,\nand thrusting his finger into my right eye, pulled it out, and\nthus I became blind of one eye.\n\nBut the usurper's cruelty did not stop here; he ordered me to be\nshut up in a machine, and commanded the executioner to carry me\ninto the country, to cut off my head, and leave me to be devoured\nby birds of prey. The executioner conveyed me thus shut up into\nthe country, in order to execute the barbarous sentence; but by\nmy prayers and tears, I moved the man's compassion: \"Go,\" said he\nto me, \"get you speedily out of the kingdom, and take heed of\nreturning, or you will certainly meet your own ruin, and be the\ncause of mine.\" I thanked him for the favour he did me; and as\nsoon as I was left alone, comforted myself for the loss of my\neye, by considering that I had very narrowly escaped a much\ngreater evil.\n\nBeing in such a condition, I could not travel far at a time; I\nretired to remote places during the day, and travelled as far by\nnight as my strength would allow me. At last I arrived in the\ndominions of the sultan my uncle, and came to his capital.\n\nI gave him a long detail of the tragical cause of my return, and\nof the sad condition he saw me in. \"Alas!\" cried he, \"was it not\nenough for me to have lost my son, but must I have also news of\nthe death of a brother I loved so dearly, and see you reduced to\nthis deplorable condition?\" He told me how uneasy he was that he\ncould hear nothing of his son, notwithstanding all the enquiry he\ncould make. At these words, the unfortunate father burst into\ntears, and was so much afflicted, that pitying his grief, it was\nimpossible for me to keep the secret any longer; so that,\nnotwithstanding my oath to the prince my cousin, I told the\nsultan all that I knew.\n\nHis majesty listened to me with some sort of comfort, and when I\nhad done, \"Nephew,\" said he, \"what you tell me gives me some\nhope. I knew that my son ordered that tomb to be built, and I can\nguess pretty nearly the place; and with the idea you still have\nof it, I fancy we shall find it: but since he ordered it to be\nbuilt privately, and you took your oath to keep his secret, I am\nof opinion, that we ought to go in quest of it without other\nattendants.\" But he had another reason for keeping the matter\nsecret, which he did not then tell me, and an important one it\nwas, as you will perceive by the sequel of my story.\n\nWe disguised ourselves and went out by a door of the garden which\nopened into the fields, and soon found what we sought for. I knew\nthe tomb, and was the more rejoiced, because I had formerly\nsought it a long time in vain. We entered, and found the iron\ntrap pulled down at the head of the staircase; we had great\ndifficulty in raising it, because the prince had fastened it\ninside with the water and mortar formerly mentioned, but at last\nwe succeeded.\n\nThe sultan my uncle descended first, I followed, and we went down\nabout fifty steps. When we came to the foot of the stairs, we\nfound a sort of antechamber, full of thick smoke of an ill scent,\nwhich obscured the lamp, that gave a very faint light.\n\nFrom this antechamber we came into another, very large, supported\nby columns, and lighted by several branched candlesticks. There\nwas a cistern in the middle, and provisions of several sorts\nstood on one side of it; but we were much surprised not to see\nany person. Before us there appeared a high estrade, which we\nmounted by several steps, and upon this there was a large bed,\nwith curtains drawn. The sultan went up, and opening the\ncurtains, perceived the prince his son and the lady in bed\ntogether, but burnt and changed to cinder, as if they had been\nthrown into a fire, and taken out before they were consumed.\n\nBut what surprised me most was, that though this spectacle filled\nme with horror, the sultan my uncle, instead of testifying his\nsorrow to see the prince his son in such a condition, spat on his\nface, and exclaimed, with a disdainful air, \"This is the\npunishment of this world, but that of the other will last to\neternity;\" and not content with this, he pulled off his sandal,\nand gave the corpse of his son a blow on the cheek.\n\nI cannot adequately express how much I was astonished when I saw\nthe sultan my uncle abuse his son thus after he was dead. \"Sir,\"\nsaid I, \"whatever grief this dismal sight has impressed upon me,\nI am forced to suspend it, to enquire of your majesty what crime\nthe prince my cousin may have committed, that his corpse should\ndeserve such indignant treatment?\" \"Nephew,\" replied the sultan,\n\"I must tell you, that my son (who is unworthy of that name)\nloved his sister from his infancy, as she did him: I did not\ncheck their growing fondness, because I did not foresee its\npernicious consequence. This tenderness increased as they grew in\nyears, and to such a height, that I dreaded the end of it. At\nlast, I applied such remedies as were in my power: I not only\ngave my son a severe reprimand in private, laying before him the\nhorrible nature of the passion he entertained, and the eternal\ndisgrace he would bring upon my family, if he persisted; but I\nalso represented the same to my daughter, and shut her up so\nclose that she could have no conversation with her brother. But\nthat unfortunate creature had swallowed so much of the poison,\nthat all the obstacles which by my prudence I could lay in the\nway served only to inflame her love.\n\n\"My son being persuaded of his sister's constancy, on presence of\nbuilding a tomb, caused this subterraneous habitation to be made,\nin hopes of finding one day or other an opportunity to possess\nhimself of that objets which was the cause of his flame, and to\nbring her hither. He took advantage of my absence, to enter by\nforce into the place of his sister's confinement; but this was a\ncircumstance which my honour would not suffer me to make public.\nAnd after so damnable an action, he came and shut himself up with\nher in this place, which he has supplied, as you see, with all\nsorts of provisions, that he might enjoy detestable pleasures,\nwhich ought to be a subject of horror to all the world; but God,\nwho would not suffer such an abomination, has justly punished\nthem both.\" At these words, he melted into tears, and I joined\nmine with his.\n\nAfter a while, casting his eyes upon me, \"Dear nephew,\" cried he,\nembracing me, \"if I have lost that unworthy son, I shall happily\nfind in you what will better supply his place.\" The reflections\nhe made on the doleful end of the prince and princess his\ndaughter made us both weep afresh.\n\nWe ascended the stairs again, and departed at last from that\ndismal place. We let down the trap door, and covered it with\nearth, and such other materials as the tomb was built of, on\npurpose to hide, as much as lay in our power, so terrible an\neffect of the wrath of God.\n\nWe had not been long returned to the palace, unperceived by any\none, but we heard a confused noise of trumpets, drums, and other\ninstruments of war. We soon understood by the thick cloud of\ndust, which almost darkened the air, that it was the arrival of a\nformidable army: and it proved to be the same vizier that had\ndethroned my father, and usurped his place, who with a vast\nnumber of troops was come to possess himself of that also of the\nsultan my uncle.\n\nMy uncle, who then had only his usual guards about him, could not\nresist so numerous an enemy; they invested the city, and the\ngates being opened to them without any resistance, soon became\nmasters of it, and broke into the palace where my uncle defended\nhimself, and sold his life at a dear rate. I fought as valiantly\nfor a while; but seeing we were forced to submit to a superior\npower, I thought on my retreat, which I had the good fortune to\neffect by some back ways, and got to one of the sultan's servants\non whose fidelity I could depend.\n\nBeing thus surrounded with sorrows and persecuted by fortune, I\nhad recourse to a stratagem, which was the only means left me to\nsave my life: I caused my beard and eye-brows to be shaved, and\nputting on a calender's habit, I passed, unknown by any, out of\nthe city; after that, by degrees, I found it easy to quit my\nuncle's kingdom, by taking the bye-roads.\n\nI avoided passing through towns, until I had reached the empire\nof the mighty governor of the Moosulmauns, the glorious and\nrenowned caliph Haroon al Rusheed, when I thought myself out of\ndanger; and considering what I was to do, I resolved to come to\nBagdad, intending to throw myself at the feet of that monarch,\nwhose generosity is renowned throughout the world. \"I shall move\nhim to compassion,\" said I to myself, \"by the relation of my\nuncommon misfortunes, and without doubt he will take pity on a\npersecuted prince, and not suffer me to implore his assistance in\nvain.\"\n\nIn short, after a journey of several months, I arrived yesterday\nat the gate of this city, into which I entered about the dusk of\nevening ; and stopping a little while to consider which way I was\nto turn, another calender came up; he saluted me, and I him: \"You\nappear,\" said I, \"to be a stranger, as I am.\" \"You are not\nmistaken,\" replied he. He had no sooner returned this answer,\nthan a third calender overtook us. He saluted us, and told us he\nwas a stranger newly come to Bagdad; so that as brethren we\njoined together, resolving not to separate from one another.\n\nIt was now late, and we knew not where to seek a lodging in the\ncity, where we had never been before. But good fortune having\nbrought us to your gate, we made bold to knock, when you received\nus with so much kindness, that we are incapable of rendering\nsuitable thanks. \"This, madam,\" said he, \"is, in obedience to\nyour commands, the account I was to give how I lost my right eye,\nwherefore my beard and eye-brows are shaved, and how I came to be\nwith you at this time.\"\n\n\"It is enough,\" said Zobeide; \"you may retire to what place you\nthink fit.\" The calender begged the ladies' permission to stay\ntill he had heard the relations of his two comrades, \"Whom I\ncannot,\" said he, \"leave with honour;\" and that he might also\nhear those of the three other persons in company.\n\nThe story of the first calender seemed wonderful to the whole\ncompany, but especially to the caliph, who, notwithstanding the\nslaves stood by with their cimeters drawn, could not forbear\nwhispering to the vizier \"Many stories have I heard, but never\nany that equalled in surprising incident that of the calender.\"\nWhilst he was saying this, the second calender began, addressing\nhimself to Zobeide.\n\n\n\n\n               The Story of the Second Calender.\n\n\n\nMadam, to obey your commands, and to shew you by what strange\naccident I became blind of the right eye, I must of necessity\ngive you the account of my life.\n\nI was scarcely past my infancy, when the sultan my father (for\nyou must know I am a prince by birth) perceived that I was\nendowed with good natural ability, and spared nothing proper for\nimproving it.\n\nNo sooner was I able to read and write, but I learned the Koraun\nfrom beginning to end by heart, that admirable book, which\ncontains the foundation, the precepts, and the rules of our\nreligion; and that I might be thoroughly instructed in it, I read\nthe works of the most approved divines, by whose commentaries it\nhad been explained. I added to this study, that of all the\ntraditions collected from the mouth of our prophet, by the great\nmen that were contemporary with him. I was not satisfied with the\nknowledge of all that had any relation to our religion, but made\nalso a particular search into our histories. I made myself\nperfect in polite learning, in the works of poets, and\nversification. I applied myself to geography, chronology, and to\nspeak the Arabian language in its purity; not forgetting in the\nmeantime all such exercises as were proper for a prince to\nunderstand. But one thing which I was fond of, and succeeded in,\nwas penmanship; wherein I surpassed all the celebrated scribes of\nour kingdom.\n\nFame did me more honour than I deserved, for she not only spread\nthe renown of my talents through all the dominions of the sultan\nmy father, but carried it as far as the empire of Hindoostan,\nwhose potent monarch, desirous to see me, sent an ambassador with\nrich presents: my father, who rejoiced at this embassy for\nseveral reasons, was persuaded, that nothing could be more\nimproving to a prince of my age than to travel and visit foreign\ncourts; and he wished to gain the friendship of the Indian\nmonarch. I departed with the ambassador, but with no great\nretinue.\n\nWhen we had travelled about a month, we discovered at a distance\na cloud of dust, and under that we saw very soon fifty horsemen\nwell armed, who were robbers, advancing towards us at full speed.\n\nAs we had ten horses laden with baggage, and presents to the\nsultan of Hindoostan, from my father, and my retinue was but\nsmall, you may easily judge that these robbers came boldly up to\nus; and not being in a posture to make any opposition, we told\nthem, that we were ambassadors, and hoped they would attempt\nnothing contrary to the respect due to such sacred characters,\nthinking by this means to save our equipage and our lives: but\nthe robbers most insolently replied, \"For what reason would you\nhave us shew any respect to the sultan your master? We are none\nof his subjects, nor are we upon his territories:\" having spoken\nthus, they surrounded and fell upon us: I defended myself as long\nas I could; but finding myself wounded, and seeing the ambassador\nwith his attendants and mine lying on the ground, I made use of\nwhat strength was yet remaining in my horse, who was also very\nmuch wounded, and rode away as fast as he could carry me; but he\nshortly after, from weariness and the loss of blood, fell down\ndead. I cleared myself from him unhurt, and finding that I was\nnot pursued, judged the robbers were not willing to quit the\nbooty they had obtained.\n\nHere you see me, alone, wounded, destitute of help, and in a\nstrange country. I durst not take the high road, fearing I might\nfall again into the hands of these robbers. When I had bound up\nmy wound, which was not dangerous, I walked on the rest of the\nday, and arrived at the foot of\n\nmountain, where I perceived a passage into a cave; I went in, and\nstaid there that night with little satisfaction, after I had\neaten some fruits that I had gathered by the way.\n\nI continued my journey for several days following, without\nfinding any place of abode: but after a month's time, I came to a\nlarge town well inhabited, and situated so much the more\nadvantageously, as it was surrounded by several streams, so that\nit enjoyed perpetual spring.\n\nThe pleasant objects which then presented themselves to my view\nafforded me some joy, and suspended for a time the sorrow with\nwhich I was overwhelmed. My face, hands, and feet were black and\nsun-burnt; and, by my long journey, my boots were quite worn out,\nso that I was forced to walk bare-footed; and besides, my clothes\nwere all in rags I entered the town to inform myself where I was,\nand addressed myself to a tailor that was at work in his shop;\nwho, perceiving by my air that I was a person of more note than\nmy outward appearance bespoke, made me sit down by him, and asked\nme who I was, from whence I came, and what had brought me\nthither? I did not conceal anything that had befallen me, nor\nmade I any scruple to discover my quality.\n\nThe tailor listened to me with attention; but after had done\nspeaking, instead of giving me any consolation, he augmented my\nsorrow: \"Take heed,\" said he, \"how you discover to any person\nwhat you have related to me; for the prince of this country is\nthe greatest enemy your father has, and he will certainly do you\nsome mischief, should he hear of your being in this city.\" I made\nno doubt of the tailor's sincerity, when he named the prince: but\nsince that enmity which is between my father and him has no\nrelation to my adventures, I pass it over in silence.\n\nI returned the tailor thanks for his advice, expressed himself\ndisposed to follow his counsel, and assured him that his favours\nshould never be forgotten. He ordered something to be brought for\nme to eat, and offered me at the same time a lodging in his\nhouse, which I accepted. Some days after, finding me tolerably\nwell recovered of the fatigue I had endured by a long and tedious\njourney, and reflecting that most princes of our religion applied\nthemselves to some art or calling that might be serviceable to\nthem upon occasion, he asked me, if I had learned any whereby I\nmight get a livelihood, and not be burdensome to others? I told\nhim that I understood the laws, both divine and human; that I was\na grammarian and poet; and above all, that I could write with\ngreat perfection. \"By all this,\" said he, \"you will not be able,\nin this country, to purchase yourself one morsel of bread;\nnothing is of less use here than those sciences; but if you will\nbe advised by me, dress yourself in a labourer's habit; and since\nyou appear to be strong, and of a good constitution, you shall go\ninto the next forest and cut fire-wood, which you may bring to\nthe market to be sold; and I can assure you this employment will\nturn to so good an account that you may live by it, without\ndependence upon any man; and by this means you will be in a\ncondition to wait for the favourable minute, when heaven shall\nthink fit to dispel those clouds of misfortune that thwart your\nhappiness, and oblige you to conceal your birth; I will take care\nto supply you with a rope and a hatchet.\"\n\nThe fear of being known, and the necessity I was under of getting\na livelihood, made me agree to this proposal, notwithstanding the\nmeanness and hardships that attended it. The day following the\ntailor brought me a rope. a hatchet, and a short coat, and\nrecommended me to some poor people who gained their bread after\nthe same manner, that they might take me into their company. They\nconducted me to the wood, and the first day I brought in as much\nupon my head as procured me half a piece of gold, of the money of\nthat country; for though the wood was not far distant from the\ntown, yet it was very scarce, by reason that few would be at the\ntrouble of fetching it for themselves. I gained a good sum of\nmoney in a short time, and repaid my tailor what he had advanced\nto me\n\nI continued this way of living for a whole year. One day, having\nby chance penetrated farther into the wood than usual, I happened\nto light on a pleasant spot, where I began to cut; and in pulling\nup the root of a tree, I espied an iron ring, fastened to a trap\ndoor of the same metal. I took away the earth that covered it,\nand having lifted it up, discovered a flight of stairs, which I\ndescended with my axe in my hand.\n\nWhen I had reached the bottom, I found myself in a palace, and\nfelt great consternation, on account of a great light which\nappeared as clear in it as if it had been above ground in the\nopen air. I went forward along a gallery, supported by pillars of\njasper, the base and capitals of messy gold: but seeing a lady of\na noble and graceful air, extremely beautiful, coming towards me,\nmy eyes were taken off from every other objets.\n\nBeing desirous to spare the lady the trouble of coming to me, I\nhastened to meet her; and as I was saluting her with a low\nobeisance, she asked me, \"What are you, a man or a genie?\" \"A\nman, madam,\" said I; \"I have no correspondence with genies.\" \"By\nwhat adventure,\" said she, fetching a deep sigh, \"are you come\nhither? I have lived here twenty-five years, and you are the:\nfirst man I have beheld in that time.\"\n\nHer great beauty, which had already smitten me, and the sweetness\nand civility wherewith she received me, emboldened me to say,\n\"Madam, before I have the honour to satisfy your curiosity, give\nme leave to tell you, that I am infinitely gratified with this\nunexpected meeting, which offers me an occasion of consolation in\nthe midst of my affliction; and perhaps it may give me an\nopportunity of making you also more happy than you are.\" I\nrelated to her by what strange accident she beheld me, the son of\na sultan, in such a condition as I appeared in her presence; and\nhow fortune had directed that I should discover the entrance into\nthat magnificent prison where I had found her, according to\nappearance, in an unpleasant situation.\n\n\"Alas! prince,\" said she, sighing once more, \"you have just cause\nto believe this rich and pompous prison cannot be otherwise than\na most wearisome abode: the most charming place in the world\nbeing no way delightful when we are detained there contrary to\nour will. It is not possible but you have heard of the sultan of\nthe isle of Ebene, so called from that precious wood which it\nproduces in abundance; I am the princess his daughter.\n\n\"The sultan, my father, had chosen for me a husband, a prince who\nwas my cousin; but on my wedding-night, in the midst of the\nrejoicings of the court and capital, before I was conducted to my\nhusband, a genie took me away. I fainted with alarm, and when I\nrecovered, found myself in this place. I was long inconsolable,\nbut time and necessity have accustomed me to see and receive the\ngenie. Twenty-five years I have continued in this place, where, I\nmust confess, I have all that I can wish for necessary to life,\nand also every thing that can satisfy a princess fond of dress\nand splendour.\n\n\"Every ten days,\" continued the princess, \"the genie comes\nhither, and remains with me one night, which he never exceeds;\nand the excuse he makes for it is, that he is married to another\nwife, who would grow jealous if she should know his infidelity.\nMeanwhile, if I have occasion for him by day or night, as soon as\nI touch a talisman, which is at the entrance into my chamber, the\ngenie appears. It is now the fourth day since he was here, and I\ndo not expect him before the end of six more; so, if you please,\nyou may stay five days, and I will endeavour to entertain you\naccording to your quality and merit.\" I thought myself too\nfortunate, to have obtained so great a favour without asking, to\nrefuse so obliging an offer. The princess made me go into a bath,\nthe most commodious, and the most sumptuous imaginable; and when\nI came forth, instead of my own clothes I found another very\ncostly suit, which I did not esteem so much for its richness, as\nbecause it made me appear worthy to be in her company. We sat\ndown on a sofa covered with rich tapestry, with cushions of the\nrarest Indian brocade; and some time after she covered a table\nwith several dishes of delicate meats. We ate, and passed the\nremaining part of the day with much satisfaction, as also the\nevening, together.\n\nThe next day, as she contrived every means to please me, she\nbrought in, at dinner, a bottle of old wine, the most excellent\nthat ever was tasted, and out of complaisance drank some part of\nit with me. When my head grew warm with the agreeable liquor,\n\"Fair princess,\" said I, \"you have been too long thus buried\nalive; follow me, enjoy the real day, of which you have been\ndeprived so many years, and abandon this artificial though\nbrilliant glare.\" \"Prince,\" replied she, with a smile, \"leave\nthis discourse; if you out of ten days will grant me nine, and\nresign the last to the genie, the fairest day would be nothing in\nmy esteem.\" \"Princess,\" said I, \"it is the fear of the genie that\nmakes you speak thus; for my part, I value him so little, that I\nwill break in pieces his talisman, with the conjuration that is\nwritten about it. Let him come, I will expect him; and how brave\nor redoubtable soever he be, I will make him feel the weight of\nmy arm: I swear solemnly that I will extirpate all the genies in\nthe world, and him first.\" The princess, who knew the\nconsequence, conjured me not to touch the talisman. \"For that\nwould be the means,\" said she, \"of ruining both you and me; I\nknow what belongs to genies better than you.\" The fumes of the\nwine did not suffer me to hearken to her reasons; but I gave the\ntalisman a kick with my foot, and broke it in several pieces.\n\nThe talisman was no sooner broken than the palace began to shake,\nand seemed ready to fall, with a hideous noise like thunder,\naccompanied with flashes of lightning, and alternate darkness.\nThis terrible noise in a moment dispelled the fumes of my wine,\nand made me sensible, but too late, of the folly I had committed.\n\"Princess,\" cried I, \"what means all this?\" She answered, without\nany concern for her own misfortune, \"Alas! you are undone, if you\ndo not fly immediately.\"\n\nI followed her advice, but my fears were so great, that I forgot\nmy hatchet and cords. I had scarcely reached the stairs by which\nI had descended, when the enchanted palace opened at once, and\nmade a passage for the genie: he asked the princess in great\nanger, \"What has happened to you, and why did you call me?\" \"A\nviolent spasm,\" said the princess, \"made me fetch this bottle\nwhich you see here, out of which I drank twice or thrice, and by\nmischance made a false step, and fell upon the talisman, which is\nbroken, and that is all.\"\n\nAt this answer, the furious genie told her, \"You are a false\nwoman, and speak not the truth; how came that axe and those cords\nthere?\" \"I never saw them till this moment,\" said the princess.\n\"Your coming in such an impetuous manner has, it may be, forced\nthem up in some place as you came along, and so brought them\nhither without your knowing it.\"\n\nThe genie made no other answer but what was accompanied with\nreproaches and blows, of which I heard the noise. I could not\nendure to hear the pitiful cries of the princess so cruelly\nabused. I had already taken off the suit she had presented to me,\nand put on my own, which I had laid on the stairs the day before,\nwhen I came out of the bagnio: I made haste upstairs, the more\ndistracted with sorrow and compassion, as I had been the cause of\nso great a misfortune; and by sacrificing the fairest princess on\nearth to the barbarity of a merciless genie, I was becoming the\nmost criminal and ungrateful of mankind. \"It is true,\" said I,\n\"she has been a prisoner these twenty-five years; but, liberty\nexcepted she wanted nothing that could make her happy. My folly\nhas put an end to her happiness, and brought upon her the cruelty\nof an unmerciful devil.\" I let down the trap-door, covered it\nagain with earth, and returned to the city with a burden of wood,\nwhich I bound up without knowing what I did, so great was my\ntrouble and sorrow.\n\nMy landlord, the tailor, was very much rejoiced to see me: \"Your\nabsence,\" said he, \"has disquieted me much, as you had entrusted\nme with the secret of your birth, and I knew not what to think; I\nwas afraid somebody had discovered you; God be praised for your\nreturn.\" I thanked him for his zeal and affection, but not a word\ndurst I say of what had passed, nor of the reason why I came back\nwithout my hatchet and cords.\n\nI retired to my chamber, where I reproached myself a thousand\ntimes for my excessive imprudence: \"Nothing,\" said I, \"could have\nparalleled the princess's good fortune and mine, had I forborne\nto break the talisman.\"\n\nWhile I was thus giving myself over to melancholy thoughts, the\ntailor came in and said, \"An old man, whom I do not know, brings\nyour hatchet and cords, which he found in his way as he tells me,\nand says he understood from your comrades that you lodge here;\ncome out and speak to him, for he will deliver them to none but\nyourself.\"\n\nAt these words I changed colour, and fell a trembling. While the\ntailor was asking me the reason, my chamber-door opened, and the\nold man, having no patience to stay, appeared to us with my\nhatchet and cords. This was the genie, the ravisher of the fair\nprincess of the isle of Ebene, who had thus disguised himself,\nafter he had treated her with the utmost barbarity. \"I am a\ngenie,\" said he, speaking to me, \"son of the daughter of Eblis,\nprince of genies: is not this your hatchet, and are not these\nyour cords?\"\n\nAfter the genie had put the question to me, he gave me no time to\nanswer, nor was it in my power, so much had his terrible aspect\ndisordered me. He grasped me by the middle, dragged me out of the\nchamber, and mounting into the air, carried me up to the skies\nwith such swiftness, that I was not able to take notice of the\nway he conveyed me. He descended again in like manner to the\nearth, which on a sudden he caused to open with a stroke of his\nfoot, and sunk down at once, when I found myself in the enchanted\npalace, before the fair princess of the isle of Ebene. But, alas!\nwhat a spectacle was there! I saw what pierced me to the heart;\nthis poor princess was quite naked, weltering in her blood, and\nlaid upon the ground, more like one dead than alive, with her\ncheeks bathed in tears.\n\n\"Perfidious wretch!\" said the genie to her, pointing at me, \"is\nnot this your gallant?\" She cast her languishing eyes upon me,\nand answered mournfully, \"I do not know him, I never saw him till\nthis moment.\" \"What!\" said the genie, \"he is the cause of thy\nbeing in the condition thou art justly in; and yet darest thou\nsay thou cost not know him?\" \"If I do not know him,\" said the\nprincess, \"would you have me lie on purpose to ruin him?\" \"Oh\nthen,\" said the genie, pulling out a cimeter and presenting it to\nthe princess, \"if you never saw him before, take this, and cut\noff his head.\" \"Alas,\" replied the princess, \"how is it possible\nthat I should execute such an act? My strength is so far spent\nthat I cannot lift up my arm; and if I could, how should I have\nthe heart to take away the life of an innocent man, and one whom\nI do not know?\" \"This refusal,\" said the genie to the princess,\n\"sufficiently informs me of your crime.\" Upon which, turning to\nme, \"And thou,\" said he, \"dost thou not know her?\"\n\nI should have been the most ungrateful wretch, and the most\nperfidious of all mankind, if I had not strewn myself as faithful\nto the princess as she had been to me, who had been the cause of\nher misfortunes. I therefore answered the genie, \"How should I\nknow her, when I never saw her till now?\" \"If it be so,\" said he,\n\"take the cimeter and cut off her head: on this condition I will\nset thee at liberty, for then I shall be convinced that thou hast\nnever seen her till this moment, as thou gayest.\" \"With all my\nheart,\" replied I, and took the cimeter in my hand.\n\nDo not think, madam, that I drew near to the fair princess of the\nisle of Ebene to be the executioner of the genie's barbarity. I\ndid it only to demonstrate by my behaviour, as much as possible,\nthat as she had strewn her resolution to sacrifice her life for\nmy sake, I would not refuse to sacrifice mine for hers. The\nprincess, notwithstanding her pain and suffering, understood my\nmeaning; which she signified by an obliging look, and made me\nunderstand her willingness to die for me; and that she was\nsatisfied to see how ready I was also to die for her. Upon this I\nstepped back, and threw the cimeter on the ground. \"I should for\never,\" said I to the genie, \"be hateful to all mankind were I to\nbe so base as to murder, not only a person whom I do not know,\nbut a lady like this, who is already on the point of expiring: do\nwith me what you please, since I am in your power; I cannot obey\nyour barbarous commands.\"\n\n\"I see,\" said the genie, \"that you both out-brave me, and insult\nmy jealousy; but both of you shall know by my treatment of you of\nwhat I am capable.\" At these words the monster took up the\ncimeter and cut off one of her hands, which left her only so much\nlife as to give me a token with the other that she bade me for\never adieu. For the blood she had lost before, and that which\ngushed out then, did not permit her to live above one or two\nmoments after this barbarous cruelty; the sight of which threw me\ninto a fit. When I was come to myself again, I expostulated with\nthe genie, why he made me languish in expectation of death:\n\"Strike,\" cried I, \"for I am ready to receive the mortal blow,\nand expect it as the greatest favour you can show me.\" But\ninstead of agreeing to that, \"Behold,\" said he, \"how genies treat\ntheir wives whom they suspect of unfaithfulness; she has received\nthee here, and were I certain that she had put any further\naffront upon me, I would put thee to death this minute: but I\nwill content myself with transforming thee into a dog, ape, lion,\nor bird; take thy choice of any of these, I will leave it to\nthyself.\"\n\nThese words gave me some hopes of being able to appease him: \"O\ngenie,\" said I, \"moderate your passion, and since you will not\ntake away my life, give it me generously. I shall always remember\nyour clemency, if you pardon me, as one of the best men in the\nworld pardoned one of his neighbours that bore him a mortal\nhatred. The genie asked me what had passed between those two\nneighbours, and said, he would have patience till he heard the\nstory, which I related to him; and I believe, madam, you will not\nbe displeased if I now repeat it.\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of the Envious Man, and of him that he Envied.\n\n\n\nIn a considerable town two persons dwelt in adjoining houses. One\nof them conceived such a violent hatred against the other, that\nthe hated party resolved to remove to a distance, being persuaded\nthat their being neighbours was the only cause of this animosity;\nfor though he had done him several pieces of service, he found\nthat his hatred was not diminished; he therefore sold his house,\nwith what goods he had left, and retired to the capital city of a\nkingdom which was not far distant. Here he bought a little spot\nof ground, which lay about half a league from the city; where he\nhad a convenient house, with a garden, and a pretty spacious\ncourt, wherein there was a deep well, which was not in use.\n\nThe honest man having made this purchase put on a dervise's\nhabit, intending to lead a retired life, and caused several cells\nto be made in the house, where in a short time he established a\nnumerous society of dervises. He soon came to be publicly known\nby his virtue, through which he acquired the esteem of many\npeople, as well of the commonalty as of the chief of the city. In\nshort, he was much honoured and courted by all ranks. People came\nfrom afar to recommend themselves to his prayers; and all who\nvisited him, published what blessings they received through his\nmeans.\n\nThe great reputation of this honest man having spread to the town\nfrom whence he had come, it touched the envious man so much to\nthe quick, that he left his house and affairs with a resolution\nto ruin him. With this intent he went to the new convent of\ndervises, of which his former neighbour was the head, who\nreceived him with all imaginable tokens of friendship. The\nenvious man told him that he was come on purpose to communicate a\nbusiness of importance, which he could not do but in private; and\n\"that nobody may hear us, let us,\" said he, \"take a walk in your\ncourt; and seeing night begins to draw on, command your dervises\nto retire to their cells.\" The chief of the dervises did as he\nwas required.\n\nWhen the envious man saw that he was alone with this good man, he\nbegan to tell him his errand, walking side by side in the court,\ntill he saw his opportunity; and getting the good man near the\nbrink of the well, he gave him a thrust, and pushed him into it,\nwithout being seen by any one. Having done thus, he returned, got\nout at the gate of the convent without being known, and reached\nhis own house well satisfied with his journey, being fully\npersuaded that the object of his hatred was no more; but he found\nhimself mistaken.\n\nThis old well was inhabited by fairies and genies, which happened\nluckily for the relief of the head of the convent; for they\nreceived and supported him, and carried him to the bottom, so\nthat he got no hurt. He perceived that there was something\nextraordinary in his fall, which must otherwise have cost him his\nlife; but he neither saw nor felt anything. He soon heard a\nvoice, however, which said, \"Do you know what honest man this is,\nto whom we have done this piece of service?\" Another voice\nanswered, \"No.\" To which the first replied, \"Then I will tell\nyou. This man out of charity, the purest ever known, left the\ntown he lived in, and has established himself in this place, in\nhopes to cure one of his neighbours of the envy he had conceived\nagainst him; he had acquired such a general esteem, that the\nenvious man, not able to endure it, came hither on purpose to\nruin him; and he would have accomplished his design, had it not\nbeen for the assistance we have given this honest man, whose\nreputation is so great, that the sultan, who keeps his residence\nin the neighbouring city, was to pay him a visit to-morrow, to\nrecommend the princess his daughter to his prayers.\"\n\nAnother voice asked, \"What need had the princess of the dervise's\nprayers?\" To which the first answered, \"You do not know, it\nseems, that she is possessed by genie Maimoun, the son of Dimdim,\nwho is fallen in love with her. But I well know how this good\nhead of the dervises may cure her; the thing is very easy, and I\nwill explain it to you. He has a black cat in his convent, with a\nwhite spot at the end of her tail, about the bigness of a small\npiece of Arabian money; let him only pull seven hairs out of the\nwhite spot, burn them, and smoke the princess's head with the\nfume, she will not only be immediately cured, but be so safely\ndelivered from Maimoun, the son of Dimdim, that he will never\ndare to approach her again.\"\n\nThe head of the dervises remembered every word of the\nconversation between the fairies and the genies, who remained\nsilent the remainder of the night. The next morning, as soon as\ndaylight appeared, and he could discern the nature of his\nsituation, the well being broken down in several places, he saw a\nhole, by which he crept out with ease.\n\nThe other dervises, who had been seeking for him, were rejoiced\nto see him; he gave them a brief account of the wickedness of the\nman to whom he had given so kind a reception the day before, and\nretired into his cell. Shortly after the black cat, which the\nfairies and the genies had mentioned the night before, came to\nfawn upon her master, as she was accustomed to do; he took her\nup, and pulled seven hairs from the white spot that was upon her\ntail, and laid them aside for his use when occasion should serve.\n\nSoon after sunrise the sultan, who would leave no means untried\nthat he thought likely to restore the princess to perfect health,\narrived at the gate of the convent. He commanded his guards to\nhalt, whilst he with his principal officers went in. The dervises\nreceived him with profound respect.\n\nThe sultan called their chief aside, and said, \"Good Sheik, you\nmay probably be already acquainted with the cause of my visit.\"\n\"Yes, Sir,\" replied he gravely, \"if I do not mistake, it is the\ndisease of the princess which procures me this unmerited honour.\"\n\"That is the real case,\" replied the sultan. \"You will give me\nnew life if your prayers, as I hope they may, restore my\ndaughter's health.\" \"Sir,\" said the good man, \"if your majesty\nwill be pleased to let her come hither, I am in hopes, through\nGod's assistance and favour, that she will be effectually cured.\"\n\nThe prince, transported with joy, sent immediately for his\ndaughter, who soon appeared with a numerous train of ladies and\neunuchs, but veiled, so that her face was not seen. The chief of\nthe dervises caused a pall to be held over her head, and he had\nno sooner thrown the seven hairs upon the burning coals, than the\ngenie Maimoun, the son of Dimdim, uttered a great cry, and\nwithout being seen, left the princess at liberty; upon which, she\ntook the veil from her face, and rose up to see where she was,\nsaying, \"Where am I, and who brought me hither?\" At these words\nthe sultan, overcome with excess of joy, embraced his daughter,\nand kissed her eyes; he also kissed the chief of the dervises'\nhands, and said to his officers, \"What reward does he deserve\nthat has thus cured my daughter?\" They all cried, \"He deserves\nher in marriage.\" \"That is what I had in my thoughts,\" said the\nsultan; \"and I make him my son-in-law from this moment.\" Some\ntime after the prime vizier died, and the sultan conferred the\nplace on the dervise. The sultan himself also died without heirs\nmale; upon which the religious orders and the militia consulted\ntogether, and the good man was declared and acknowledged sultan\nby general consent.\n\nThe honest dervise, having ascended the throne of his father-in-\nlaw, as he was one day in the midst of his courtiers on a march,\nespied the envious man among the crowd that stood as he passed\nalong, and calling one of the viziers that attended him,\nwhispered him in his ear, \"Go, bring me that man you see there;\nbut take care you do not frighten him.\" The vizier obeyed, and\nwhen the envious man was brought into his presence, the sultan\nsaid, \"Friend, I am extremely glad to see you.\" Upon which he\ncalled an officer, \"Go immediately,\" said he, \"and cause to be\npaid to this man out of my treasury, one hundred pieces of gold:\nlet him have also twenty loads of the richest merchandize in my\nstorehouses, and a sufficient guard to conduit him to his house.\"\nAfter he had given this charge to the officer, he bade the\nenvious man farewell, and proceeded on his march.\n\nWhen I had finished the recital of this story to the genie, the\nmurderer of the princess of the isle of Ebene, I made an\napplication of it to himself: \"O genie!\" said I, \"this bountiful\nsultan was not satisfied with merely overlooking the design of\nthe envious man to take away his life, but also treated him\nkindly, and sent him back loaded with the favours I have\nenumerated.\" In short, I employed all my eloquence to persuade\nhim to imitate so good an example, and to grant me pardon; but it\nwas impossible to move his compassion.\n\n\"All that I can do for thee,\" said he, \"is, to grant thee thy\nlife; but do not flatter thyself that I will allow thee to return\nsafe and well; I must let thee feel what I am able to do by my\nenchantments.\" So saying, he seized me violently, and carried me\nthrough the arched roof of the subterraneous palace, which opened\nto give him passage; he ascended with me into the air to such a\nheight, that the earth appeared like a little white cloud; he\nthen descended again like lightning, and alighted upon the summit\nof a mountain.\n\nHere he took up a handful of earth, and pronouncing, or rather\nmuttering, some words which I did not understand, threw it upon\nme. \"Quit,\" said he, \"the form of a man, and take that of an\nape.\" He instantly disappeared, and left me alone, transformed\ninto an ape, and overwhelmed with sorrow in a strange country,\nnot knowing whether I was near or far from my father's dominions.\n\nI descended the mountain, and entered a plain level country,\nwhich took me a month to travel over, and then I came to the sea-\nside. It happened at the time to be perfectly calm, and I espied\na vessel about half a league from the shore: unwilling to lose so\ngood an opportunity, I broke off a large branch from a tree,\ncarried it into the sea, and placed myself astride upon it, with\na stick in each hand to serve me for oars.\n\nI launched out in this posture, and rowed towards the ship. When\nI had approached sufficiently near to be seen, I exhibited to the\nseamen and passengers on the deck an extraordinary spectacle, and\nall of them regarded me with astonishment. In the meantime I got\non board, and laying hold of a rope, jumped upon the deck, but\nhaving lost my speech I found myself in great perplexity: and\nindeed the risk I ran was not less than when I was at the mercy\nof the genie.\n\nThe merchants, being both superstitious and scrupulous, thought\nif they received me on board I should be the occasion of some\nmisfortune to them during their voyage. On this account one of\nthem said, \"I will destroy him with a blow of this handspike;\"\nanother, \"I will shoot an arrow through his body;\" and a third,\n\"Let us throw him into the sea.\" Some one of them would not have\nfailed to carry his threat into execution had I not gone to the\ncaptain, thrown myself at his feet, and taken hold of his skirt\nin a supplicating posture. This action, together with the tears\nwhich he saw gush from my eyes, moved his compassion. He took me\nunder his protection, threatened to be revenged on any one that\nwould do me the least hurt, and loaded me with a thousand\ncaresses. On my part, though I had not power to speak, I showed\nby my gestures every mark of gratitude in my power.\n\nThe wind that succeeded the calm was not strong, but favourable;\nit continued to blow in the same direction for fifty days, and\nbrought us safe to the port of a city, well peopled, and of great\ntrade, the capital of a powerful state, where we came to anchor.\n\nOur vessel was instantly surrounded with an infinite number of\nboats full of people, who came to congratulate their friends on\ntheir safe arrival, or to inquire for those they had left behind\nthem in the country from whence they had come, or out of\ncuriosity to see a ship that had performed so long a voyage.\n\nAmongst the rest, some officers came on board, desiring in the\nname of the sultan to speak with the merchants. The merchants\nappearing, one of the officers told them, \"The sultan our master\nhath commanded us to acquaint you, that he rejoices in your safe\narrival, and beseeches each of you to take the trouble to write a\nfew lines upon this roll. That you may understand the design of\nthis request, you must know that we had a prime vizier, who\nbesides possessing great abilities for the management of public\naffairs could write in the highest perfection. This minister a\nfew days since died. The event has greatly affected the sultan;\nand since he can never behold his writing without admiration, he\nhas made a solemn vow, not to give the place to any one who\ncannot write equally well. Many have presented specimens of their\nskill; but to this day, no one in the empire has been judged\nworthy to supply the vizier's place.\"\n\nThose of the merchants who thought they could write well enough\nto aspire to this high dignity, wrote one after another what they\nthought fit. After they had done, I advanced, and took the roll\nout of the gentleman's hand; but all the people, especially the\nmerchants, cried out, that I would tear it, or throw it into the\nsea, till they saw how properly I held the roll, and made a sign\nthat I would write in my turn: their apprehensions then changed\ninto wonder. However, as they had never seen an ape that could\nwrite, and could not be persuaded that I was more ingenious than\nothers of my kind, they wished to take the roll out of my hand;\nbut the captain took my part once more. \"Let him alone,\" said he,\n\"allow him to write. If he only scribbles the paper, I promise\nyou that I will immediately punish him. If, on the contrary, he\nwrites well, as I hope he will, because I never saw an ape so\nclever and ingenious, and so quick of apprehension, I declare\nthat I will adopt him as my son.\" Perceiving that no one opposed\nmy design, I took the pen, and wrote six sorts of hands used\namong the Arabians, and each specimen contained an extemporary\ndistich or quatrain in praise of the sultan. My writing not only\nexcelled that of the merchants, but was such as they had not\nbefore seen in that country. When I had done, the officers took\nthe roll, and carried it to the sultan.\n\nThe sultan took little notice of any of the writings, except\nmine, which pleased him so much that he said to the officers,\n\"Take the finest horse in my stable, with the richest trappings,\nand a robe of the most sumptuous brocade to put on the person who\nwrote the six hands, and bring him thither.\" At this command the\nofficers could not forbear laughing. The sultan was incensed at\ntheir rudeness, and would have punished them had they not\nexplained: \"Sir,\" said they, \"we humbly beg your majesty's\npardon: these hands were not written by a man, but by an ape.\"\n\"What do you say?\" exclaimed the sultan. \"Those admirable\ncharacters, are they not written by the hands of a man?\" \"No,\nSir,\" replied the officers; \"we assure your majesty that it was\nan ape, who wrote them in our presence.\" The sultan was too much\nsurprised at this account not to desire a sight of me, and\ntherefore said, \"Do what I command you, and bring me speedily\nthat wonderful ape.\"\n\nThe officers returned to the vessel and shewed the captain their\norder, who answered, \"The sultan's command must be obeyed.\"\nWhereupon they clothed me with the rich brocade robe, and carried\nme ashore, where they set me on horseback, whilst the sultan\nwaited for me at his palace with a great number of courtiers,\nwhom he gathered together to do me the more honour.\n\nThe procession commenced; the harbour, the streets, the public\nplaces, windows, terraces, palaces, and houses, were filled with\nan infinite number of people of all ranks, who flocked from every\npart of the city to see me; for the rumour was spread in a\nmoment, that the sultan had chosen an ape to be his grand vizier,\nand after having served for a spectacle to the people, who could\nnot forbear to express their surprise by redoubling their shouts\nand cries, I arrived at the sultan's palace.\n\nI found the prince on his throne in the midst of the grandees; I\nmade my obeisance three times very low, and at last kneeled and\nkissed the ground before him, and afterwards took my seat in the\nposture of an ape. The whole assembly viewed me with admiration,\nand could not comprehend how it was possible that an ape should\nso well understand how to pay the sultan his due respect; and he\nhimself was more astonished than any. In short, the usual\nceremony of the audience would have been complete, could I have\nadded speech to my behaviour; but apes never speak, and the\nadvantage I had of having been a man did not now yield me that\nprivilege.\n\nThe sultan dismissed his courtiers, and none remained by him but\nthe chief of the eunuchs, a little young slave, and myself. He\nwent from his chamber of audience into his own apartment, where\nhe ordered dinner to be brought. As he sat at table he made me a\nsign to approach and eat with them: to shew my obedience I kissed\nthe ground, arose, and placed myself at the table, and ate with\ndiscretion and moderation.\n\nBefore the table was cleared, I espied a standish, which I made a\nsign to have brought me; having got it, I wrote upon a large\npeach some verses expressive of my acknowledgment to the sultan;\nwho having read them after I had presented the peach to him, was\nstill more astonished. When the things were removed, they brought\nhim a particular liquor, of which he caused them to give me a\nglass. I drank, and wrote upon the glass some new verses, which\nexplained the state I was reduced to, after many sufferings. The\nsultan read these likewise, and said, \"A man that was capable of\ndoing so much would be above the greatest of his species.\"\n\nThe sultan caused to be brought to him a chessboard, and asked me\nby a sign if I understood that game, and would play with him? I\nkissed the ground, and laying my hand upon my head, signified\nthat I was ready to receive that honour. He won the first game,\nbut I won the second and third; and perceiving he was somewhat\ndispleased at my success, I made a quatrain to satisfy him; in\nwhich I told him that two potent armies had been fighting\nfuriously all day, but that they concluded a peace towards the\nevening, and passed the remaining part of the night very amicably\ntogether upon the field of battle.\n\nSo many circumstances appearing to the sultan beyond whatever had\neither been seen or known of the cleverness or sense of apes, he\ndetermined not to be the only witness of these prodigies himself,\nbut having a daughter, called the Lady of Beauty, on whom the\nchief of the eunuchs, then present, waited; \"Go,\" said the sultan\nto him, \"and bid your lady come hither: I am desirous she should\nshare my pleasure.\"\n\nThe eunuch went, and immediately brought the princess, who had\nher face uncovered; but she had no sooner come into the room,\nthan she put on her veil, and said to the sultan, \"Sir, your\nmajesty must needs have forgotten yourself; I am surprised that\nyour majesty has sent for me to appear among men.\" \"How,\ndaughter!\" said the sultan, \"you do not know what you say: there\nis no one here, but the little slave, the eunuch your governor,\nand myself, who have the liberty to see your face; and yet you\nlower your veil, and blame me for having sent for you.\" \"Sir,\"\nsaid the princess, \"your majesty shall soon understand that I am\nnot in the wrong. That seeming ape is a young prince, son of a\npowerful sultan, and has been metamorphosed into an ape by\nenchantment. A genie, son of the daughter of Eblis, has\nmaliciously done him this wrong, after having cruelly taken away\nthe life of the princess of the isle of Ebene.\"\n\nThe sultan, astonished at this declaration, turned towards me,\nand speaking no more by signs, but in plain words, asked me, if\nwhat his daughter said was true? Finding I could not speak, I put\nmy hand to my head' to signify that what the princess spoke was\ncorrect. Upon this the sultan said again to his daughter, \"How do\nyou know that this prince has been transformed by enchantments\ninto an ape?\" \"Sir,\" replied the Lady of Beauty, \"your majesty\nmay remember that when I was past my infancy I had an old lady\nwho waited on me; she was a most expert magician, and taught me\nseventy rules of magic, by virtue of which I can, in the\ntwinkling of an eye, transport your capital into the midst of the\nsea, or beyond mount Caucasus. By this science I know all\nenchanted persons at first sight: I know who they are, and by\nwhom they have been enchanted; therefore do not be surprised if I\nshould forthwith relieve this prince, in spite of the\nenchantments, from that which prevents his appearing in your\nsight in his natural form.\" \"Daughter,\" said the sultan, \"I did\nnot believe you to have understood so much.\" \"Sir,\" replied the\nprincess, \"these things are curious and worth knowing; but I\nthink I ought not to boast of them.\" \"Since it is so,\" said the\nsultan, \"you can dispel the prince's enchantment.\" \"Yes, sir,\"\nsaid the princess, \"I can restore him to his original shape.\" \"Do\nit then,\" said the sultan, \"you cannot do me a greater pleasure;\nfor I will have him to be my vizier, and he shall marry you.\"\n\"Sir,\" said the princess, \"I am ready to obey you in all that you\nshould be pleased to command me.\"\n\nThe princess, the Lady of Beauty, went into her apartment, and\nbrought thence a knife, which had some Hebrew words engraven on\nthe blade: she made the sultan, the master of the eunuchs, the\nlittle slave, and myself, descend into a private court of the\npalace, and there left us under a gallery that went round it. She\nplaced herself in the middle of the court, where she made a great\ncircle, and within it she wrote several words in Arabian\ncharacters, some of them ancient.\n\nWhen she had finished and prepared the circle as she thought fit,\nshe placed herself in the centre of it, where she began\nincantations, and repeated verses of the Koraun. The air grew\ninsensibly dark, as if it had been night, and the whole world\nwere about to be dissolved: we found ourselves struck with\nconsternation, and our fear increased when we saw the genie, the\nson of the daughter of Eblis, appear suddenly in the shape of a\nlion of a gigantic size.\n\nAs soon as the princess perceived this monster, \"Dog,\" said she,\n\"instead of creeping before me, dare you present yourself in this\nshape, thinking to frighten me?\" \"And thou,\" replied the lion,\n\"art thou not afraid to break the treaty which was solemnly made\nand confirmed between us by oath, not to wrong or do one another\nany injury?\" \"Wretch,\" replied the princess, \"I justly may\nreproach thee with having done so.\" The lion answered fiercely,\n\"Thou shalt quickly have thy reward for the trouble thou hast\ngiven me:\" with that he opened his monstrous jaws, and sprang\nforward to devour her; but she, being on her guard, stepped back,\ngot time to pull out one of her hairs, and by pronouncing three\nor four words, changed it into a sharp sword, with which she cut\nthe lion in two through the middle.\n\nThe two parts of the lion disappeared, while the head changed\ninto a large scorpion. Immediately the princess turned herself\ninto a serpent, and fought the scorpion, who, finding himself\nworsted, took the shape of an eagle, and flew away: but the\nserpent at the same time took also the shape of an eagle, that\nwas black and much stronger, and pursued him, so that we lost\nsight of them both.\n\nSome time after they had disappeared, the ground opened before\nus, and out of it came forth a black and white cat, with her hair\nstanding on end, and mewing in a frightful manner; a black wolf\nfollowed close after her, and gave her no time to rest. The cat,\nbeing thus hard pressed, changed into a worm, and being near a\npomegranate accidentally fallen from a tree on the side of a\ncanal which was deep, but not broad, pierced the pomegranate in\nan instant, and hid itself, but the pomegranate swelled\nimmediately, and became as big as a gourd, which, mounting up to\nthe roof of the gallery, rolled there for some time backward and\nforward; it then fell down again into the court, and broke into\nseveral pieces.\n\nThe wolf had in the meanwhile transformed itself into a cock, and\nnow fell to picking up the seeds of the pomegranate one after\nanother; but finding no more, he came towards us with his wings\nspread, making a great noise, as if he would ask us whether there\nwere any more seed. There was one lying on the brink of the\ncanal, which the cock perceiving as he went back, ran speedily\nthither; but just as he was going to pick it up, the seed rolled\ninto the river, and turned into a little fish.\n\nThe cock leaped into the river, turned into a pike, and pursued\nthe small fish; they continued both under water above two hours,\nand we knew not what was become of them, but suddenly we heard\nterrible cries, which made us tremble, and a little while after\nwe saw the genie and princess all in flames. They threw flashes\nof fire out of their mouths at each other, till they came to\nclose combat; then the two fires increased, with a thick burning\nsmoke which mounted so high that we had reason to apprehend it\nwould set the palace on fire. But we very soon had a more\npressing occasion of fear, for the genie having got loose from\nthe princess, came to the gallery where we stood, and blew flames\nof fire upon us. We must all have perished had not the princess,\nrunning to our assistance, forced him to retire, and defend\nhimself against her; yet, notwithstanding all her exertions, she\ncould not hinder the sultan's beard from being burnt, and his\nface scorched, the chief of the eunuchs from being stifled, and a\nspark from entering my right eye, and making it blind. The sultan\nand I expected but death, when we heard a cry of \"Victory!\nVictory!\" and instantly the princess appeared in her natural\nshape, but the genie was reduced to a heap of ashes.\n\nThe princess approached us, and hastily called for a cup-full of\nwater, which the young slave, who had received no hurt, brought\nher. She took it, and after pronouncing some words over it, threw\nit upon me, saying, \"If thou art become an ape by enchantment,\nchange thy shape, and take that of a man which thou hadst\nbefore.\" These words were hardly uttered, when I again became a\nman, in every respect as I was before my transformation,\nexcepting the loss of my eye.\n\nI was prepared to return the princess my thanks, but she\nprevented me by addressing herself to her father: \"Sir, I have\ngained the victory over the genie, as your majesty may see; but\nit is a victory that costs me dear; I have but a few minutes to\nlive, and you will not have the satisfaction to make the match\nyou intended; the fire has pierced me during the terrible combat,\nand I find it is gradually consuming me. This would not have\nhappened, had I perceived the last of the pomegranate seeds, and\nswallowed it, as I did the others when I was changed into a cock:\nthe genie had fled thither as to his last intrenchment, and upon\nthat the success of the combat depended, which would have been\nsuccessful, and without danger to me. This oversight obliged me\nto have recourse to fire, and to fight with those mighty arms as\nI did, between heaven and earth, in your presence; for, in spite\nof all his redoubtable art and experience, I made the genie know\nthat I understood more than he; I have conquered and reduced him\nto ashes, but I cannot escape death, which is approaching.\"\n\nThe sultan suffered the princess, the Lady of Beauty, to go on\nwith the recital of her combat, and when she had done, addressed\nher in a tone that sufficiently testified his grief; \"My\ndaughter,\" said he, \"you see in what condition your father is;\nalas! I wonder that I am yet alive! Your governor, the eunuch, is\ndead, and the prince whom you have delivered from his enchantment\nhas lost one of his eyes.\" He could say no more, for his tears,\nsighs, and sobs, deprived him of the power of utterance.\n\nSuddenly the princess exclaimed, \"I burn! I burn!\" She found that\nthe fire had at last seized upon her vital parts, which made her\nstill cry \"I burn!\" until death had put an end to her intolerable\npains. The effect of that fire was so extraordinary, that in a\nfew moments she was wholly reduced to ashes, as the genie had\nbeen.\n\nI cannot tell you, madam, how much I was grieved at so dismal a\nspectacle; I had rather all my life have continued an ape or a\ndog, than to have seen my benefactress thus miserably perish. The\nsultan being afflicted all that can be imagined, cried piteously,\nand beat himself on his head and breast, until being quite\novercome with grief, he fainted away, which made me fear for his\nlife. In the mean time, the eunuchs and officers came running at\nthe sultan's lamentations, and with much difficulty brought him\nto himself. It was not necessary that the prince or myself should\nrelate the circumstances of the adventure, to convince them of\nthe affliction it had occasioned us. The two heaps of ashes, to\nwhich the princess and the genie had been reduced, were a\nsufficient demonstration. The sultan was hardly able to stand,\nbut was under the necessity of being supported to his apartment.\n\nWhen the knowledge of this tragical event had spread through the\npalace and the city, all the people bewailed the misfortune of\nthe princess, the Lady of Beauty, and commiserated the sultan's\naffliction. Public mourning was observed for seven days, and many\nceremonies were performed. The ashes of the genie were thrown\ninto the air, but those of the princess were collected into a\nprecious urn, to be preserved, and the urn was deposited in a\nsuperb mausoleum, constructed for that purpose on the spot where\nthe princess had been consumed.\n\nThe grief of the sultan for the loss of his daughter confined him\nto his chamber for a whole month. Before he had fully recovered\nhis strength he sent for me: \"Prince,\" said he, \"attend to the\ncommands I now give you; your life must answer if you do not\ncarry them into execution.\" I assured him of exalt obedience;\nupon which he went on thus: \"I have constantly lived in perfect\nfelicity, but by your arrival all the happiness I possessed has\nvanished; my daughter is dead, her governor is no more, and it is\nonly through a miracle that I am myself yet alive You are the\ncause of all these misfortunes, under which it is impossible that\nI should be comforted; depart hence therefore in peace, without\nfarther delay, for I must myself perish if you remain any longer.\nI am persuaded that your presence brings misfortune with it.\nDepart, and take care never to appear again in my dominions. No\nconsideration whatever shall hinder me from making you repent\nyour temerity should you violate my injunction.\" I was going to\nspeak, but he prevented me by words full of anger; and I was\nobliged to quit the palace, rejected, banished, an outcast from\nthe world. Before I left the city I went into a bagnio, here I\ncaused my beard and eyebrows to be shaved, and put on a\ncalender's habit. I began my journey, not so much deploring my\nown miseries, as the death of the two fair princesses, of which I\nhave been the occasion. I passed through many countries without\nmaking myself known; at last I resolved to come to Bagdad, in\nhopes of getting myself introduced to the commander of the\nfaithful, to move his compassion by relating to him my\nunfortunate adventures. I arrived this evening, and the first man\nI met was this calender, our brother, who spoke before me. You\nknow the remaining part, madam, and the cause of my having the\nhonour to be here.\n\nWhen the second calender had concluded his story, Zobeide, to\nwhom he had addressed his speech, said, \"It is well, you are at\nliberty.\" But instead of departing, he also petitioned the lady\nto shew him the same favour vouchsafed to the first calender, and\nwent and sat down by him.\n\n\n\n\n               The History of the Third Calender.\n\n\n\nMy story, most honourable lady, very much differs from what you\nhave already heard. The two princes who have spoken before me\nhave each lost an eye by the pure effects of their destiny, but\nmine I lost through my own fault, and by hastening to seek my own\nmisfortune, as you shall hear by the sequel of the story.\n\nMy name is Agib, and I am the son of a sultan who was called\nCassib. After his death I took possession of his dominions, and\ncontinued in the city where he had resided. It is situated on the\nsea-coast, has one of the finest and safest harbours in the\nworld, an arsenal capable of fitting out for sea one hundred and\nfifty men of war, besides merchantmen and light vessels. My\nkingdom is composed of several fine provinces upon the main land,\nbesides a number of valuable islands, which lie almost in sight\nof my capital.\n\nMy first object was to visit the provinces: I afterwards caused\nmy whole fleet to be fitted out, and went to my islands to gain\nthe hearts of my subjects by my presence, and to confirm them in\ntheir loyalty. These voyages gave me some taste for navigation,\nin which I took so much pleasure, that I resolved to make some\ndiscoveries beyond my own territories; to which end I caused ten\nships to be fitted out, embarked, and set sail.\n\nOur voyage was very pleasant for forty days successively, but on\nthe forty-first night the wind became contrary, and withal so\nboisterous that we were near being lost: about break of day the\nstorm abated, the clouds dispersed, and the weather became fair.\nWe reached an island, where we remained two days to take in fresh\nprovisions; and then put off again to sea. After ten days' sail\nwe were in hopes of seeing land, for the tempests we had\nexperienced had so much abated my curiosity, that I gave orders\nto steer back to my own coast; but I perceived at the same time\nthat my pilot knew not where we were. Upon the tenth day, a\nseaman being sent to look out for land from the mast head, gave\nnotice that on starboard and larboard he could see nothing but\nsky and sea, but that right a-head he perceived a great\nblackness.\n\nThe pilot changed colour at this account, and throwing his turban\non the deck with one hand, and beating his breast with the other,\ncried, \"Oh, Sir, we are all lost; not one of us can escape; and\nwith all my skill it is not in my power to effect our\ndeliverance.\" Having spoken thus, he lamented like a man who\nforesaw unavoidable ruin; his despondence threw the whole ship's\ncrew into consternation. I asked him what reason he had thus to\ndespair? He exclaimed, \"The tempest has brought us so far out of\nour course, that to-morrow about noon we shall be near the black\nmountain, or mine of adamant, which at this very minute draws all\nyour fleet towards it, by virtue of the iron in your ships; and\nwhen we approach within a certain distance, the attraction of the\nadamant will have such force, that all the nails will be drawn\nout of the sides and bottoms of the ships, and fasten to the\nmountain, so that your vessels will fall to pieces and sink.\n\n\"This mountain,\" continued the pilot, \"is inaccessible. On the\nsummit there is a dome of fine brass, supported by pillars of the\nsame metal, and on the top of that dome stands a horse, likewise\nof brass, with a rider on his back, who has a plate or lead fixed\nto his breast, upon which some talismanic characters are\nengraver. Sir, the tradition is, that this statue is the chief\ncause why so many ships and men have been lost and sunk in this\nplace, and that it will ever continue to be fatal to all those\nwho have the misfortune to approach, until it shall be thrown\ndown.\"\n\nThe pilot having finished his discourse, began to weep afresh,\nand all the rest of the ship's company did the same. I had no\nother thought but that my days were there to terminate. In the\nmean time every one began to provide for his own safety, and to\nthat end took all imaginable precaution; and being uncertain of\nthe event, they all made one another their heirs, by virtue of a\nwill, for the benefit of those that should happen to be saved.\n\nThe next morning we distinctly perceived the black mountain.\nAbout noon we were so near, that we found what the pilot had\nforetold to be true; for all the nails and iron in the ships flew\ntowards the mountain, where they fixed, by the violence of the\nattraction, with a horrible noise; the ships split asunder, and\ntheir cargoes sunk into the sea. All my people were drowned, but\nGod had mercy on me, and permitted me to save myself by means of\na plank, which the wind drove ashore just at the foot of the\nmountain. I did not receive the least hurt, and my good fortune\nbrought me to a landing place, where there were steps that led up\nto the summit of the mountain.\n\nAt the sight of these steps, for there was not a space of ground\neither on the right or left whereon a man could set his foot, I\ngave thanks to God; and recommended myself to his holy\nprotection, as I began to ascend the steps, which were so narrow,\nthat had the wind raged it would have thrown me into the sea.\nBut, at last, I reached the top, without accident. I went into\nthe dome, and kneeling on the ground, gave God thanks for his\nmercies.\n\nI passed the night under the dome. In my sleep an old grave man\nappeared to me, and said, \"Hearken, Agib; as soon as thou art\nawake dig up the ground under thy feet: thou wilt find a bow of\nbrass, and three arrows of lead, that are made under certain\nconstellations, to deliver mankind from the many calamities that\nthreaten them. Shoot the three arrows at the statue, and the\nrider will fall into the sea, but the horse will fall by thy\nside; thou must bury it in the place where thou findest the bow\nand arrows: this being done, the sea will swell and rise to the\nfoot of the dome. When it has come so high, thou wilt perceive a\nboat with one man holding an oar in each hand; this man is also\nof metal, but different from that thou hast thrown down; step on\nboard, but without mentioning the name of God, and let him\nconduct thee. He will in ten days' time bring thee into another\nsea, where thou shalt find an opportunity to return to thy\ncountry, provided, as I have told thee, thou dost not mention the\nname of God during the whole voyage.\"\n\nThis was the substance of the old man's discourse. When I awoke I\nfelt much comforted by the vision, and did not fail to observe\neverything that he had commanded me. I took the bow and arrows\nout of the ground, shot at the horseman, and with the third arrow\nI overthrew him; he fell into the sea, and the horse fell by my\nside; I buried it in the place whence I took the bow and arrows.\nIn the mean time, the sea swelled and rose up by degrees. When it\ncame as high as the foot of the dome upon the top of the\nmountain, I saw, afar off, a boat rowing towards me, and I\nreturned God thanks that everything succeeded according to my\ndream.\n\nAt last the boat made land, and I perceived the man was made of\nmetal, as I had dreamt. I stept aboard, and took great heed not\nto pronounce the name of God, neither spoke I one word. I sat\ndown, and the man of metal began to row off from the mountain. He\nrowed without ceasing till the ninth day, when I saw some\nislands, which gave me hopes that I should escape all the danger\nthat I feared. The excess of my joy made me forget what I was\nforbidden: \"Blessed be God,\" said I; \"God be praised.\"\n\nI had no sooner spoken these words, than the boat sunk with the\nman of metal, leaving me upon the surface. I swam the remaining\npart of the day towards that land which appeared nearest. A very\ndark night succeeded, and not knowing where I was, I swam at\nrandom. My strength at last began to fail, and I despaired of\nbeing able to save myself, but the wind began to blow hard, and a\nwave vast as a mountain threw me on a flat, where it left me, and\nretreated. I made haste ashore, fearing another wave might wash\nme back. The first thing I did was to strip, wring the water out\nof my clothes, and lay them on the dry sand, which was still warm\nfrom the heat of the day.\n\nNext morning the sun dried my clothes; I put them on, and went\nforward to discover what sort of country I was in. I had not\nwalked far before I found I was upon a desert, though a very\npleasant, island, as it displayed several sorts of trees and wild\nshrubs bearing fruit; but I perceived it was far from the\ncontinent, which much diminished the joy I felt at having escaped\nthe danger of the seas. Nevertheless, I recommended myself to God\nand prayed him to dispose of me according to his will.\nImmediately after, I saw a vessel coming from the main land,\nbefore the wind, directly towards the island. I doubted not but\nthey were coming to anchor there; and being uncertain what sort\nof people they might be, whether friends or foes, I thought it\nnot safe to be seen. I got up into a very thick tree, from whence\nI might safely view them. The vessel came into a little creek,\nwhere ten slaves landed, carrying a spade and other instruments\nfor digging up the ground. They went towards the middle of the\nisland, where I saw them stop, and dig for a considerable time,\nafter which I thought I perceived them lift up a trap door. They\nreturned again to the vessel, and unloaded several sorts of\nprovisions and furniture, which they carried to the place where\nthey had been digging: they then descended, which made me suppose\nit led to a subterraneous dwelling.\n\nI saw them once more go to the ship, and return soon after with\nan old man, who led in his hand a handsome lad of about fourteen\nor fifteen years of age. They all descended when the trap door\nhad been opened. After they had again come up, they let down the\ntrap door, covered it over with earth, and returned to the creek\nwhere the ship lay, but I saw not the young man in their company.\nThis made me believe that he had staid behind in the\nsubterraneous place, a circumstance which exceedingly surprised\nme.\n\nThe old man and the slaves went on board, and getting the vessel\nunder weigh, steered their course towards the main land. When I\nperceived they had proceeded to such a distance that I could not\nbe seen by them, I came down from the tree, and went directly to\nthe place where I had seen the ground broken. I removed the earth\nby degrees, till I came to a stone that was two or three feet\nsquare. I lifted it up, and found that it covered the head of a\nflight of stairs, which were also of stone. I descended, and at\nthe bottom found myself in a large room, furnished with a carpet,\na couch covered with tapestry, and cushions of rich stuff, upon\nwhich the young man sat, with a fan in his hand. These things,\ntogether with fruits and flower-pot standing about him, I saw by\nthe light of two wax tapers. The young man, when he perceived me\nwas considerably alarmed; but to quiet his apprehensions, I said\nto him as I entered, \"Whoever you are, Sir, do not fear; a\nsultan, and the son of a sultan, as I am, is not capable of doing\nyou any injury: on the contrary, it is probable that your good\ndestiny may have brought me hither to deliver you out of this\ntomb, where it seems you have been buried alive, for reasons to\nme unknown. But what surprises me (for you must know that I have\nbeen witness to all that hath passed since your coming into this\nisland), is, that you suffered yourself to be entombed in this\nplace without any resistance.\"\n\nThe young man felt assured at these words, and with a smiling\ncountenance requested me to take a seat by him. When I had\ncomplied, he said \"Prince, I am to acquaint you with what will\nsurprise you by its singularity.\n\n\"My father is a merchant jeweller, who, by his industry and\nprofessional skill, has acquired considerable property. He has\nmany slaves, and also agents, whom he employs as supercargoes in\nhis own ships, to maintain his correspondence at the several\ncourts, which he furnishes with precious stones.\n\n\"He had been long married without having issue, when it was\nintimated to him in a dream that he should have a son, though his\nlife would be but short; at which he was much concerned when he\nawoke. Some days after, my mother acquainted him that she was\nwith child, and what she supposed to be the time of her\nconception agreed exactly with the day of his dream. At the end\nof nine months she was brought to bed of me; which occasioned\ngreat joy in the family.\n\n\"My father, who had observed the very moment of my birth,\nconsulted astrologers about my nativity; and was answered, \u0091Your\nson shall live happily till the age of fifteen, when his life\nwill be exposed to a danger which he will hardly be able to\nescape. But if his good destiny preserve him beyond that time, he\nwill live to a great age. It will be' (said they) \u0091when the\nstatue of brass, that stands upon the summit of the mountain of\nadamant, shall be thrown into the sea by prince Agib, son of king\nCassib; and, as the stars prognosticate, your son will be killed\nfifty days afterwards by that prince.'\n\n\"My father took all imaginable care of my education until this\nyear, which is the fifteenth of my age. He had notice given him\nyesterday, that the statue of brass had been thrown into the sea\nabout ten days ago. This news alarmed him much.\n\n\"Upon the prediction the astrologers, he sought by all means\npossible to falsify my horoscope, and to preserve my life. He\ntook the precaution to form this subterranean habitation to hide\nme in, till the expiration of the fifty days after the throwing\ndown of the statue; and therefore, as it is ten days since this\nhappened, he came hastily hither to conceal me, and promised at\nthe end of forty days to return and fetch me away. For my own\npart I am sanguine in my hopes, and cannot believe that prince\nAgib will seek for me in a place under ground, in the midst of a\ndesert island.\"\n\nWhile the jeweller's son was relating this story, I laughed at\nthe astrologers who had foretold that I should take away his\nlife; for I thought myself so far from being likely to verify\ntheir prediction, that he had scarcely done speaking, when I told\nhim with great joy, \"Dear Sir, trust in the goodness of God, and\nfear nothing; consider it as a debt you had to pay; but that you\nare acquitted of it from this hour. I rejoice that after my\nshipwreck I came so fortunately hither to defend you against all\nwho would attempt your life. I will not leave you till the forty\ndays have expired, of which the foolish astrologers have made you\napprehensive; and in the mean while I will do you all the service\nin my power: after which, with leave of your father and yourself,\nI shall have the benefit of getting to the main land in your\nvessel; and when I am returned into my kingdom, I will remember\nthe obligations I owe you, and endeavour to demonstrate my\ngratitude by suitable acknowedgments.\"\n\nThis discourse encouraged the jeweller's son, and inspired him\nwith confidence. I took care not to inform him I was the very\nAgib whom he dreaded, lest I should alarm his fears, and used\nevery precaution not to give him any cause to suspect who I was.\nWe passed the time in various conversation till night came on. I\nfound the young man of ready wit, and partook with him of his\nprovisions, of which he had enough to have lasted beyond the\nforty days, though he had had more guests than myself. After\nsupper we conversed for some time; and at last retired to bed.\n\nThe next morning, when he arose, I held the basin of water to\nhim; I also provided dinner, and at the proper time placed it on\nthe table: after we had dined I invented a play for our\namusement, not only for that day, but for those that followed. I\nprepared supper after the same manner as I had done the dinner;\nand having supped, we retired to bed as before. We had sufficient\ntime to contrast mutual friendship and esteem for each other. I\nfound he loved me; and I on my part regarded him with so much\naffection, that I often said to myself, \"Those astrologers who\npredicted to his father that his son should die by my hand were\nimpostors; for it is not possible that I could commit so base a\ncrime.\"  In short, madam, we spent thirty-nine days in the\npleasantest manner possible in this subterraneous abode.\n\nThe fortieth day appeared: and in the morning, when the young man\nawoke, he said to me with a transport of joy that he could not\nrestrain, \"Prince, this is the fortieth day, and I am not dead,\nthanks to God and your good company. My father will not fail to\nmake you, very shortly, every acknowledgment of his gratitude for\nyour attentions, and will furnish you with every necessary\naccommodation for your return to your kingdom: but,\" continued\nhe, \"while we are waiting his arrival, I beg you will provide me\nsome warm water in that portable bath, that I may wash my body\nand change my dress, to receive my father with the more respect.\"\n\nI set the water on the fire, and when it was hot poured it into\nthe moveable bath; the youth went in, and I both washed and\nrubbed him. At last he came out, and laid himself down in his bed\nthat I had prepared. After he had slept a while, he awoke, and\nsaid, \"Dear prince, pray do me the favour to fetch me a melon and\nsome sugar, that I may eat some to refresh me.\"\n\nOut of several melons that remained I took the best, and laid it\non a plate; and as I could not find a knife to cut it with, I\nasked the young man if he knew where there was one. \"There is\none,\" said he, \"upon this cornice over my head:\" I accordingly\nsaw it there, and made so much haste to reach it, that, while I\nhad it in my hand, my foot being entangled in the carpet, I fell\nmost unhappily upon the young man, and the knife pierced his\nheart.\n\nAt this spectacle I cried out with agony. I beat my head, my\nface, and breast; I tore my clothes; I threw myself on the ground\nwith unspeakable sorrow and grief! \"Alas!\" I exclaimed, \"there\nwere only some hours wanting to have put him out of that danger\nfrom which he sought sanctuary here; and when I thought the\ndanger past, then I became his murderer, and verified the\nprediction. But, O Lord!\" said I, lifting up my face and my hands\nto heaven, \"I intreat thy pardon, and if I be guilty of his\ndeath, let me not live any longer.\"\n\nAfter this misfortune I would have embraced death without any\nreluctance, had it presented itself to me. But what we wish,\nwhether it be good or evil, will not always happen according to\nour desire. Nevertheless, considering that all my tears and\nsorrows would not restore the young man to life, and, the forty\ndays being expired, I might be surprised by his father, I quitted\nthe subterranean dwelling, laid down the great stone upon the\nentrance, and covered it with earth.\n\nI had scarcely done, when, casting my eyes upon the sea towards\nthe main land, I perceived the vessel coming to fetch away the\nyoung man. I began then to consider what I had best do. I said to\nmyself, \"If I am seen by the old man, he will certainly seize me,\nand perhaps cause me to be massacred by his slaves, when he has\ndiscovered that his son is killed: all that I can allege to\njustify myself will not convince him of my innocence. It is\nbetter then to withdraw while it is in my power, than to expose\nmyself to his resentment.\"\n\nThere happened to be near a large tree thick with leaves, which I\nascended in hopes of concealment, and was no sooner fixed in a\nplace where I could not be perceived, than I saw the vessel come\nto the creek where she lay the first time.\n\nThe old man with his slaves landed immediately, and advanced\ntowards the subterranean dwelling, with a countenance that shewed\nsome hope; but when they saw the earth had been newly removed,\nthey changed colour, particularly the old man. They lifted up the\nstone, and went down; they called the young man by his name, but\nhe not answering, their fears increased. They proceeded to seek\nhim; and at length found him lying upon the bed with the knife in\nhis heart, for I had not power to take it out. At this sight they\ncried out lamentably, which increased my sorrow: the old man fell\ndown in a swoon. The slaves, to give him air, brought him up in\ntheir arms, and laid him at the foot of the tree where I was\nconcealed; but notwithstanding all the pains they took to recover\nhim, the unfortunate father continued a long while insensible,\nand made them more than once despair of his life; but at last he\ncame to himself. The slaves then brought up his son's corpse,\ndressed in his best apparel, and when they had made a grave they\nburied it. The old man, supported by two slaves, and his face\ncovered with tears, threw the first earth upon the body, after\nwhich the slaves filled up the grave.\n\nThis being done, all the furniture was brought up, and, with the\nremaining provisions, put on board the vessel. The old man,\novercome with sorrow, and not being able to stand, was laid upon\na litter, and carried to the ship, which stood out to sea, and in\na short time was out of sight.\n\nAfter the old man and his slaves were gone, I was left alone upon\nthe island. I lay that night in the subterranean dwelling, which\nthey had shut up, and when the day came, I walked round the\nisland, and stopped in such places as I thought most proper for\nrepose.\n\nI led this wearisome life for a whole month. At the expiration of\nthis time I perceived that the sea had receded; that the island\nhad increased in dimensions; the main land too seemed to be\ndrawing nearer. In fact, the water sunk so low, that there\nremained between me and the continent but a small stream, which I\ncrossed, and the water did not reach above the middle of my leg.\nI walked so long a way upon the slime and sand that I was very\nweary: at last I got upon more firm ground, and when I had\nproceeded some distance from the sea, I saw a good way before me\nsomething that resembled a great fire, which afforded me some\ncomfort; for I said to myself, I shall find here some persons, it\nnot being possible that this fire should kindle of itself. As I\ndrew nearer, however, I found my error, and discovered that what\nI had taken for a fire was a castle of red copper, which the\nbeams of the sun made to appear at a distance like flames.\n\nI stopped in the neighbourhood of the castle, and sat down to\nadmire its noble structure, and to rest myself. Before I had\ntaken such a view of this magnificent building as it deserved, I\nsaw ten handsome young men coming along, as if they had been\ntaking a walk; but what surprised me was, that they were all\nblind of the right eye. They were accompanied by an old man, who\nwas very tall, and of a venerable aspect.\n\nI could not suppress my astonishment at the sight of so many half\nblind men in company, and every one deprived of the same eye. As\nI was conjecturing by what adventure these men could come\ntogether, they approached, and seemed glad to see me. After the\nfirst salutations, they inquired what had brought me thither. I\ntold them my story would be somewhat tedious, but if they would\ntake the trouble to sit down, 1 would satisfy their curiosity.\nThey did so, and I related to them all that had happened to me\nsince I had left my kingdom, which filled them with astonishment.\n\nAfter I had concluded my account, the young gentlemen prayed me\nto accompany them into the castle. I accepted their offer, and we\npassed through a great many halls, ante-chambers, bed-chambers,\nand closets, very well furnished, and came at last into a\nspacious hall, where there were ten small blue sofas set round,\nseparate from one another, on which they sat by day and slept at\nnight. In the middle of this circle stood an eleventh sofa, not\nso high as the rest, but of the same colour, upon which the old\nman before-mentioned sat down, and the young gentlemen occupied\nthe other ten. But as each sofa could only contain one man, one\nof the young men said to me, \"Comrade, sit down upon that carpet\nin the middle of the room, and do not inquire into anything that\nconcerns us, nor the reason why we are all blind of the right\neye; be content with what you see, and let not your curiosity\nextend any farther.\"\n\nThe old man having sat a short time, arose, and went out; but he\nreturned in a minute or two, brought in supper, distributed to\neach man separately his proportion, and likewise brought me mine,\nwhich I ate apart, as the rest did; and when supper was almost\nended, he presented to each of us a cup of wine.\n\nThey thought my story so extraordinary, that they made me repeat\nit after supper, and it furnished conversation for a good part of\nthe night. One of the gentlemen observing that it was late, said\nto the old man, \"You do not bring us that with which we may\nacquit ourselves of our duty.\" At these words the old man arose,\nand went into a closet, and brought out thence upon his head ten\nbasins, one after another, all covered with blue stuff; he placed\none before every gentleman, together with a light.\n\nThey uncovered their basins, which contained ashes, coal-dust,\nand lamp-black; they mixed all together, and rubbed and bedaubed\ntheir faces with it in such a manner as to make themselves look\nvery frightful. After having thus blackened themselves, they wept\nand lamented, beating their heads and breasts, and crying\ncontinually, \"This is the fruit of our idleness and debauches.\"\n\nThey continued this strange employment nearly the whole of the\nnight, and when they left off, the old man brought them water,\nwith which they washed their faces and hands; they changed all\ntheir clothes, which were spoiled, and put on others; so that\nthey exhibited no appearance of what they had been doing.\n\nYou may judge how uneasy I felt all this time. I wished a\nthousand times to break the silence which had been imposed upon\nme, and ask questions; nor was it possible for me to sleep that\nnight.\n\nThe next day, soon after we had arisen, we went out to walk, and\nthen I said to them, \"Gentlemen, I declare to you, that I must\nrenounce the law which you prescribed to me last night, for I\ncannot observe it. You are men of sense, you have convinced me\nthat you do not want understanding; yet, I have seen you do such\nactions as none but madmen could be capable of. Whatever\nmisfortune befalls me, I cannot forbear asking, why you bedaubed\nyour faces with black? How it has happened that each of you has\nbut one eye? Some singular circumstance must certainly be the\ncause; therefore I conjure you to satisfy my curiosity.\" To these\npressing instances they answered only, that it was no business of\nmine to make such inquiries, and that I should do well to hold my\npeace.\n\nWe passed that day in conversation upon indifferent subjects; and\nwhen night was come and every man had supped, the old man brought\nin the blue basins, and the young gentlemen as before bedaubed\ntheir faces, wept and beat themselves, crying, \"This is the fruit\nof our idleness and debauches,\" and continued the same actions\nthe following night. At last, not being able to resist my\ncuriosity, I earnestly prayed them to satisfy me, or to shew me\nhow to return to my own kingdom; for it was impossible for me to\nkeep them company any longer, and to see every night such an odd\nexhibition, without being permitted to know the reason.\n\nOne of the gentlemen answered on behalf of the rest, \"Do not\nwonder at our conduit in regard to yourself, and that hitherto we\nhave not granted your request: it is out of kindness, to save you\nthe pain of being reduced to the same condition with ourselves.\nIf you have a mind to try our unfortunate destiny, you need but\nspeak, and we will give you the satisfaction you desire.\" I told\nthem I was resolved on it, let what would be the consequence.\n\"Once more,\" said the same gentleman, \"we advise you to restrain\nyour curiosity: it will cost you the loss of your right eye.\" \"No\nmatter,\" I replied; \"be assured that if such a misfortune befall\nme, I will not impute it to you, but to myself.\"\n\nHe farther represented to me, that when I had lost an eye I must\nnot hope to remain with them, if I were so disposed, because\ntheir number was complete, and no addition could be made to it. I\ntold them, that it would be a great satisfaction to me never to\npart from such agreeable gentlemen, but if there were a necessity\nfor it, I was ready to submit; and let it cost me what it would,\nI begged them to grant my request.\n\nThe ten gentlemen perceiving that I was so fixed in my\nresolution, took a sheep, killed it, and after they had taken off\nthe skin, presented me with a knife, telling me it would be\nuseful to me on an occasion which they would soon explain. \"We\nmust sew you in this skin,\" said they, \"and then leave you; upon\nwhich a bird of a monstrous size, called a roc, will appear in\nthe air, and taking you for a sheep, will pounce upon you, and\nsoar with you to the sky: but let not that alarm you; he will\ndescend with you again, and lay you on the top of a mountain.\nWhen you find yourself on the ground, cut the skin with your\nknife, and throw it off. As soon as the roc sees you, he will fly\naway for fear, and leave you at liberty. Do not stay, but walk on\ntill you come to a spacious castle, covered with plates of gold,\nlarge emeralds, and other precious stones: go up to the gate,\nwhich always stands open, and walk in. We have each of us been in\nthat castle; but will tell you nothing of what we saw, or what\nbefell us there; you will learn by your own experience. All that\nwe can inform you is, that it has cost each of us our right eye,\nand the penance which you have been witness to, is what we are\nobliged to observe in consequence of having been there. The\nhistory of each of us is so full of extraordinary adventures,\nthat a large volume would not contain them. But we cannot explain\nourselves farther.\"\n\nWhen the gentleman had thus spoken, I wrapt myself in the sheep's\nskin, held fast the knife which was given me; and after the young\ngentlemen had been at the trouble to sew the skin about me, they\nretired into the hall, and left me alone. The roc they spoke of\nsoon arrived; he pounced upon me, took me in his talons like a\nsheep, and carried me up the summit of the mountain.\n\nWhen I found myself on the ground, I cut the skin with the knife,\nand throwing it off, the roc at the sight of me flew sway. This\nroc is a white bird, of a monstrous size; his strength is such,\nthat he can lift up elephants from the plains, and carry them to\nthe tops of mountains, where he feeds upon them.\n\nBeing impatient to reach the castle, I lost no time; but made so\nmuch haste, that I got thither in half a day's journey, and I\nmust say that I found it surpassed the description they had given\nme of its magnificence.\n\nThe gate being open, I entered a square court, so large that\nthere were round it ninety-nine gates of wood of sanders and\naloes, and one of gold, without reckoning those of several superb\nstaircases, that led to apartments above, besides many more which\nI could not see. The hundred doors I spoke of opened into gardens\nor store-houses full of riches, or into apartments which\ncontained many things wonderful to be seen.\n\nI saw a door standing open just before me, through which I\nentered into a large hall. Here I found forty young ladies of\nsuch perfect beauty as imagination could not surpass: they were\nall most sumptuously appareled. As soon as they saw me they\narose, and without waiting my salutations, said to me, with\ndemonstrations of joy, \"Noble Sir, you are welcome.\" And one thus\naddressed me in the name of the rest, \"We have long been in\nexpectation of such a gentleman as you; your mien assures us,\nthat you are master of all the good qualities we can desire; and\nwe hope you will not find our company disagreeable or unworthy of\nyours.\"\n\nThey obliged me, notwithstanding all the opposition I could make,\nto sit down on a seat that was higher than their own; and when I\nexpressed my uneasiness, \"That is your place,\" said they, \"you\nare at present our lord, master, and judge, and we are your\nslaves, ready to obey your commands.\"\n\nNothing, madam, so much astonished me, as the solicitude and\neagerness of those fair ladies to do me all possible service. One\nbrought hot water to wash my feet, a second poured sweet scented\nwater on my hands; others brought me all kinds of necessaries,\nand change of apparel; others again brought in a magnificent\ncollation; and the rest came with glasses in their hands to fill\nme delicious wines, all in good order, and in the most charming\nmanner possible. I ate and drank; after which the ladies placed\nthemselves about me, and desired an account of my travels. I gave\nthem a full relation of my adventures, which lasted till night\ncame on.\n\nWhen I had finished my narrative to the forty ladies, some of\nthem who sat nearest me staid to keep me company, whilst the\nrest, seeing it was dark, rose to fetch tapers. They brought a\nprodigious number, which by the wonderful light they emitted\nexhibited the resemblance of day, and they disposed them with so\nmuch taste as to produce the most beautiful effect possible.\n\nOther ladies covered a table with dry fruits, sweetmeats, and\neverything proper to relish the liquor; a side-board was set out\nwith several sorts of wine and other liquors. Some of the ladies\nbrought in musical instruments, and when everything was ready,\nthey invited me to sit down to supper. The ladies sat down with\nme, and we continued a long while at our repast. They that were\nto play upon the instruments and sing arose, and formed a most\ncharming concert. The others began a kind of ball, and danced two\nand two, couple after couple, with admirable grace.\n\nIt was past midnight ere these amusements ended. At length one of\nthe ladies said to me, \"You are doubtless wearied by the journey\nyou have taken to-day; it is time for you to retire to rest; your\nlodging is prepared: but before you depart choose which of us you\nlike best to be your bedfellow.\" I answered, \"That I knew not how\nto make my own choice, as they were all equally beautiful, witty,\nand worthy of my respects and service, and that I would not be\nguilty of so much incivility as to prefer one before another.\"\n\nThe lady who had spoken to me before answered, \"We are very well\nsatisfied of your civility, and find it is your fear to create\njealousy among us that occasions your diffidence; but let not\nthis hinder you. We assure you, that the good fortune of her whom\nyou choose shall cause no feeling of the kind; for we are agreed\namong ourselves, that every one of us shall in her turn have the\nsame honour; and when forty days are past, to begin again;\ntherefore make your selection, and lose no time to take the\nrepose you need.\" I was obliged to yield to their entreaties, and\noffered my hand to the lady who spoke, and who, in return, gave\nme hers. We were conducted to a sumptuous apartment, where they\nleft us; and then every one retired to her own chamber.\n\nI was scarcely dressed next morning, when the other thirty-nine\nladies came into my chamber, all in different dresses from those\nthey had worn the day before: they bade me good-morrow, and\ninquired after my health. After which they conveyed me to a bath,\nwhere they washed me themselves, and whether I would or no,\nserved me with everything I needed; and when I came out of the\nbath, they made me put on another suit much richer than the\nformer.\n\nWe passed the whole day almost constantly at table; and when it\nwas bed-time, they prayed me again to make choice of one of them\nfor my companion In short, madam, not to weary you with\nrepetitions, I must tell you that I continued a whole year among\nthose forty ladies, and received them into my bed one after\nanother: and during all the time of this voluptuous life, we met\nnot with the least kind of trouble. When the year was expired, I\nwas greatly surprised that these forty ladies, instead of\nappearing with their usual cheerfulness to ask me how I did,\nentered my chamber one morning all in tears. They embraced me\nwith great tenderness one after another, saying, \"Adieu, dear\nprince, adieu! for we must leave you.\" Their tears affected. I\nprayed them to tell me the reason of their grief, and of the\nseparation they spoke of. \"Fair ladies, let me know,\" said I, \"if\nit be in my power to comfort you, or if my assistance can be any\nway useful to you.\" Instead of returning a direct answer,\n\"Would,\" said they, \"we had never seen or known you! Several\ngentlemen have honoured us with their company before you; but\nnever one of them had that comeliness, that sweetness, that\npleasantness of humour, and that merit which you possess; we know\nnot how to live without you.\" After they had spoken these words,\nthey began to weep bitterly. \"My dear ladies,\" said I, \"have the\nkindness not to keep me any longer in suspense: tell me the cause\nof your sorrow.\" \"Alas!\" said they, \"what but the necessity of\nparting from you could thus afflict us? Perhaps we shall never\nsee you more; but if it be your wish we should, and if you\npossess sufficient self-command for the purpose, it is not\nimpossible but that we may again enjoy the pleasure of your\ncompany.\" \"Ladies,\" I replied, \"I understand not what you mean;\npray explain yourselves more clearly.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said one of them, \"to satisfy you, we must acquaint you\nthat we are all princesses, daughters of kings. We live here\ntogether in the manner you have seen; but at the end of every\nyear we are obliged to be absent forty days upon indispensable\nduties, which we are not permitted to reveal: and afterwards we\nreturn again to this castle. Yesterday was the last of the year;\nto day we must leave you, and this circumstance is the cause of\nour grief. Before we depart we will leave you the keys of\neverything, especially those of the hundred doors, where you will\nfind enough to satisfy your curiosity, and to relieve your\nsolitude during our absence. But for your benefit, and our own\npersonal interests, we recommend you to forbear opening the\ngolden door; for if you do we shall never see you again; and the\napprehension of this augments our grief. We hope, nevertheless,\nthat you will attend to our advice; your own peace, and the\nhappiness of your life, depends upon your compliance; therefore\ntake heed. If you suffer yourself to be swayed by a foolish\ncuriosity, you will do yourself a considerable injury. We conjure\nyou to avoid the indiscretion, and to give us the satisfaction\nfinding you here again at the end of forty days. We would\nwillingly take the key of the golden door with us; but that it\nwould be an affront to a prince like you to question your\ndiscretion and firmness.\"\n\nThis speech of the fair princesses grieved me extremely. I\nomitted not to declare how much their absence would afflict me. I\nthanked then for their good advice, assuring them that I would\nfollow it, and expressed my willingness to perform what was much\nmore difficult, to secure the happiness of passing the rest of my\ndays with ladies of such beauty and accomplishments. We separated\nwith much tenderness, and after I had embraced them all, they\ndeparted, and I remained alone in the castle.\n\nThe agreeableness of their company, their hospitality, their\nmusical entertainments, and other amusements, had so much\nabsorbed my attention during the whole year, that I neither had\ntime nor desire to see the wonders contained in this enchanted\npalace. I did not even notice a thousand curious objects that\nevery day offered themselves to my view, so much was I charmed by\nthe beauty of those ladies, and the pleasure they seemed to take\nin promoting my gratification. Their departure sensibly afflicted\nme; and though their absence was to be only forty days, it seemed\nto me an age to live without them.\n\nI determined not to forget the important advice they had given\nme, not to open the golden door; but as I was permitted to\nsatisfy my curiosity in everything else, I took the first of the\nkeys of the other doors, which were hung in regular order.\n\nI opened the first door, and entered an orchard, which I believe\nthe universe could not equal. I could not imagine any thing to\nsurpass it, except that which our religion promises us after\ndeath. The symmetry, the neatness, the admirable order of the\ntrees, the abundance and diversity of unknown fruits, their\nfreshness and beauty, delighted my senses.\n\nNor must I omit to inform you, that this delicious orchard was\nwatered in a very particular manner. There were channels so\nartificially and proportionately dug, that they carried water in\nconsiderable quantities to the roots of such trees as required\nmuch moisture. Others conveyed it in smaller quantities to those\nwhose fruits were already formed: some carried still less to\nthose whose fruits were swelling, and others carried only so much\nas was just requisite to water those which had their fruits come\nto perfection, and only wanted to be ripened. They far exceeded\nin size the ordinary fruits of our gardens. Lastly, those\nchannels that watered the trees whose fruit was ripe had no more\nmoisture than just what would preserve them from withering.\n\nI should never have tired in examining and admiring so delightful\na place; nor have left it, had I not conceived a still higher\nidea of the other things which I had not seen. I went out at last\nwith my mind filled with the wonders I had viewed: I shut the\ndoor, and opened the next.\n\nInstead of an orchard, I found here a flower garden, which was no\nless extraordinary in its kind. It contained a spacious plot, not\nwatered so profusely as the former, but with greater niceness,\nfurnishing no more water than just what each flower required. The\nroses, jessamines, violets, daffodils, hyacinths, anemonies,\ntulips, pinks, lilies, and an infinite number of flowers, which\ndo not grow in other places but at certain times, were there\nflourishing all at once, and nothing could be more delicious than\nthe fragrant smell which they emitted.\n\nI opened the third door, and found a large aviary, paved with\nmarble of several fine and uncommon colours. The trellis work was\nmade of sandal wood and wood of aloes. It contained a vast number\nof nightingales, gold-finches, canary birds, larks, and other\nrare singing-birds, which I had never heard of; and the vessels\nthat held their seed and water were of the most precious jasper\nor agate.\n\nBesides, this aviary was so exceedingly neat, that, considering\nits extent, I judged there must be not less than a hundred\npersons to keep it clean; but all this while not one appeared,\neither here or in the gardens I had before examined; and yet I\ncould not perceive a weed, or any thing superfluous or offensive\nto sight. The sun went down, and I retired, charmed with the\nchirping notes of the multitude of birds, who then began to perch\nupon such places as suited them for repose during the night. I\nwent to my chamber, resolving on the following days to open all\nthe rest of the doors, excepting that of gold.\n\nThe next day I opened the fourth door. If what I had seen before\nwas capable of exciting my surprise, what I now beheld\ntransported me into perfect ecstacy. I entered a large court\nsurrounded with buildings of an admirable structure, the\ndescription of which I will omit, to avoid prolixity.\n\nThis building had forty doors, all open, and through each of them\nwas an entrance into a treasury: several of these treasuries\ncontained as much wealth as the largest kingdoms. The first was\nstored with heaps of pearls: and, what is almost incredible, the\nnumber of those stones which are most precious, and as large as\npigeons' eggs, exceeded the number of those of the ordinary size.\nIn the second treasury, there were diamonds, carbuncles, and\nrubies; in the third, emeralds; in the fourth, ingots of gold; in\nthe fifth, money; in the sixth, ingots of silver; and in the two\nfollowing, money. The rest contained amethysts, chrysolites,\ntopazes, opals, turquoises, and hyacinths, with all the other\nstones known to us, without mentioning agate, jasper, cornelian,\nand coral, of which there was a store house filled, not only with\nbranches, but whole trees.\n\nFilled with astonishment and admiration at the view of all these\nriches, I exclaimed, \"If all the treasures of the kings of the\nuniverse were gathered together in one place, they could not\nequal the value of these. How fortunate am I to possess all this\nwealth with so many admirable princesses! \"\n\nI will not tire you, madam, with a detail of all the other\nobjects of curiosity and value which I discovered on the\nfollowing day. I shall only say, that thirty-nine days afforded\nme but just as much time as was necessary to open ninety-nine\ndoors, and to admire all that presented itself to my view, so\nthat there was only the hundredth door left, which I was\nforbidden to open.\n\nThe fortieth day after the departure of those charming princesses\narrived, and had I but retained so much self-command as I ought\nto have had, I should have been this day the happiest of all\nmankind, whereas now I am the most unfortunate. They were to\nreturn the next day, and the pleasure of seeing them again ought\nto have restrained my curiosity: but through my weakness, which I\nshall ever repent, I yielded to the temptations of the evil\nspirit, who allowed me no rest till I had involved myself in the\nmisfortunes I have since suffered.\n\nI opened that fatal door! But before I had moved my foot to\nenter, a smell pleasant enough, but too powerful for my senses,\nmade me faint away. However, I soon recovered: but instead of\ntaking warning from this incident to close the door, and restrain\nmy curiosity, after waiting some time for the external air to\ncorrect the effluvia of the place, I entered, and felt myself no\nlonger incommoded. I found myself in a spacious vaulted\napartment, the pavement of which was strewed with saffron. It was\nilluminated by several large tapers which emitted the perfume of\naloes and ambergris, and were placed in candlesticks of solid\ngold. This light was augmented by gold and silver lamps, burning\nperfumed oils of various kinds.\n\nAmong the many objects that attracted my attention was a black\nhorse, of the most perfect symmetry and beauty that ever was\nbeheld. I approached in order the better to observe him, and\nfound he had on a saddle and bridle of massive gold, curiously\nwrought. One part of his manger was filled with clean barley and\nsesame, and the other with rose-water. I laid hold of his bridle,\nand led him out to view him by daylight. I mounted, and\nendeavoured to make him move: but finding he did not stir, I\nstruck him with a switch I had taken up in his magnificent\nstable. He had no sooner felt the blow, than he began to neigh in\na most horrible manner, and extending his wings, which I had not\nbefore perceived, flew up with me into the air. My thoughts were\nfully in keeping my seat; and considering the fear that had\nseized me, I sat well. At length he directed his course towards\nthe earth, and lighted upon the terrace of a castle, and, without\ngiving me time to dismount, shook me out of the saddle with such\nforce, as to throw me behind him, and with the end of his tail he\nstruck out my eye.\n\nThus it was I became blind of one eye. I then recollected the\npredictions of the ten young gentlemen. The horse again took\nwing, and soon disappeared. I got up much vexed at the misfortune\nI had brought upon myself. I walked upon the terrace, covering my\neye with one of my hands, for it pained me exceedingly, and then\ndescended, and entered into a hall. I soon discoved by the ten\nsofas in a circle, and the eleventh in the middle, lower than the\nrest, that I was in the castle whence I had been carried by the\nroc.\n\nThe ten young gentlemen were not in the hall when I entered; but\ncame in soon after, attended by the old man. They seemed not at\nall surprised to see me, nor at the loss of my eye; but said, \"We\nare sorry that we cannot congratulate you on your return, as we\ncould wish; but we are not the cause of your misfortune.\" \"I\nshould do you wrong,\" I replied, \"to lay it to your charge; I\nhave only myself to accuse.\" \"If,\" said they, \"it be a subject of\nconsolation to the afflicted to know that others share their\nsufferings, you have in us this alleviation of your misfortune.\nAll that has happened to you we have also endured; we each of us\ntasted the same pleasures during a year; and we had still\ncontinued to enjoy them, had we not opened the golden door, when\nthe princesses were absent. You have been no wiser than we, and\nhave incurred the same punishment. We would gladly receive you\ninto our company, to join with us in the penance to which we are\nbound, and the duration of which we know not. But we have already\nstated to you the reasons that render this impossible: depart,\ntherefore, and proceed to the court of Bagdad, where you will\nmeet with the person who is to decide your destiny.\" After they\nhad explained to me the road I was to travel, I departed.\n\nOn the road I caused my beard and eye-brows to be shaven, and\nassumed a calender's habit. I have had a long journey, but at\nlast I arrived this evening, and met these my brother calenders\nat the gate, being strangers as well as myself. We were mutually\nsurprised at one another, to see that we were all blind of the\nsame eye; but we had not leisure to converse long on the subject\nof our misfortunes. We have only had time enough to bring us\nhither, to implore those favours which you have been generously\npleased to grant us.\n\nThe third calender having finished this relation of his\nadventures, Zobeide addressed him and his fellow calenders thus:\n\"Go wherever you think proper, you are at liberty.\" But one of\nthem answered, \"Madam, we beg you to pardon our curiosity, and\npermit us to hear the stories of those gentlemen who have not yet\nspoken.\" Then the lady turned to the caliph, the vizier Jaaffier,\nand Mesrour, and said to them, \"It is now your turn to relate\nyour adventures, therefore speak.\"\n\nThe grand vizier who had all along been the spokesman, answered\nZobeide: \"Madam, in order to obey you, we need only repeat what\nwe have already said. We are merchants of Moussol come to Bagdad\nto sell our merchandize, which lies in the khan where we lodge.\nWe dined today with several other persons of our condition, at a\nmerchant's house of this city; who, after he had treated us with\nchoice dainties and excellent wines, sent for men and women\ndancers, and musicians. The great noise we made brought in the\nwatch, who arrested some of the company, and we had the good\nfortune to escape: but it being already late, and the door of our\nkhan shut up, we knew not whither to retire. We chanced as we\npassed along this street to hear mirth at your house, which made\nus determine to knock at your gate. This is all the account that\nwe can give you, in obedience to your commands.\"\n\nZobeide having heard this statement, seemed to hesitate what to\nsay, which the calenders perceiving, prayed her to grant the same\nfavour to the three Moussol merchants as she had done to them.\n\"Well then,\" said she, \"you shall all be equally obliged to me; I\npardon you all, provided you immediately depart.\"\n\nZobeide having given this command in a tone that signified she\nwould be obeyed, the caliph, the vizier Mesrour, the three\ncalenders, and the porter departed, without saying one word: for\nthe presence of the seven slaves with their weapons awed them\ninto silence. As soon as they had quitted the house, and the gate\nwas closed after them, the caliph said to the calenders, without\nmaking himself known, \"You gentlemen, who are newly come to town,\nwhich way do you design to go, since it is not yet day?\" \"It is\nthis,\" they replied, \"that perplexes us.\" \"Follow us,\" resumed\nthe caliph, \"and we will convey you out of danger.\" He then\nwhispered to the vizier, \"Take them along with you, and tomorrow\nmorning bring them to me; I will cause their history to be put in\nwriting, for it deserves a place in the annals of my reign.\"\n\nThe vizier Jaaffier took the three calenders along with him; the\nporter went to his quarters, and the caliph and Mesrour returned\nto the palace. The caliph went to bed, but could not sleep, being\nperplexed by the extraordinary things he had seen and heard. But\nabove all, he was most concerned to know the history of Zobeide;\nwhat reason she could have to be so severe to the two black\nbitches, and why Amene had her bosom so scarred. Day began to\nappear whilst he was thinking upon these things; he arose and\nwent to his council chamber, and sat upon his throne.\n\nThe grand vizier entered soon after, and paid his respects as\nusual. \"Vizier,\" said the caliph, \"the affairs that we have to\nconsider at present are not very pressing; that of the three\nladies and the two black bitches is the most urgent: my mind\ncannot rest till I am thoroughly satisfied, in all those matters\nthat have so much surprised me. Go, bring those ladies and the\ncalenders at the same time; make haste, and remember that I\nimpatiently expect your return.\"\n\nThe vizier who knew his master's quick and fiery temper, hastened\nto obey, and went to the ladies, to whom he communicated, in a\ncivil way,. the orders with which he was charged, to bring them\nbefore the caliph, without taking any notice of what had passed\nthe night before at their house.\n\nThe ladies put on their veils, and went with the vizier As he\npassed his own house, he took along with him the three calenders,\nwho in the interval had learnt that they had seen and spoken with\nthe caliph, without knowing him. The vizier conducted them to the\npalace with so much expedition, that the caliph was much pleased.\nThis prince, that he might observe proper decorum before the\nofficers of his court who were then present, ordered that the\nladies should be placed behind the hangings of the door which led\nto his own chamber, and placed the three calenders near his\nperson, who, by their respectful behaviour, sufficiently evinced\nthat they were not ignorant before whom they had the honour to\nappear.\n\nWhen the ladies were thus disposed of, the caliph turned towards\nthem, and said, \"When I acquaint you that I was last night in\nyour house, disguised in a merchant's habit, you may probably be\nalarmed, lest you may have given me offence; you may perhaps\nbelieve that I have sent for you for no other purpose than to\nshew some marks of my resentment; but be not afraid; you may rest\nassured that I have forgotten all that has past, and am well\nsatisfied with your conduct. I wish that all the ladies of Bagdad\nhad as much discretion as you evinced before me. I shall always\nremember the moderation with which you acted, after the rudeness\nof which we were guilty. I was then a merchant of Moussol, but am\nat present Haroon al Rusheed, the fifth caliph of the glorious\nhouse of Abbas, and hold the place of our great prophet. I have\nonly sent for you to know who you are, and to ask for what reason\none of you, after severely whipping the two black bitches, wept\nwith them? And I am no less curious to know, why another of you\nhas her bosom so full of scars.\"\n\nThough the caliph pronounced these words very distinctly, the\nthree ladies heard him well enough, yet the vizier out of\nceremony, repeated them.\n\nZobeide, after the caliph by his address had encouraged her,\nbegan thus:\n\n\n\n\n                     The Story of Zobeide.\n\n\n\nCommander of the faithful, the relation which I am about to give\nyour majesty is singularly extraordinary. The two black bitches\nand myself are sisters by the same father and mother; and I shall\nacquaint you by what strange accident they came to be\nmetamorphosed. The two ladies who live with me, and are now here,\nare also my sisters by the father's side, but by another mother:\nshe that has the scars upon her breast is named Amene; the name\nof the other is Safie, and my own Zobeide.\n\nAfter our father's death, the property that he left was equally\ndivided among us, and as soon as these two sisters received their\nportions, they left me to live with their mother. My other two\nsisters and myself stayed with our mother, who was then alive,\nand who when she afterwards died left each of us a thousand\nsequins. As soon as we had received our portions, the two eldest\n(for I am the youngest) married, and left me alone. Some time\nafter, my eldest sister's husband sold all that he had, and with\nthat money and my sister's portion they went both into Africa,\nwhere her husband, by riotous living and debauchery' spent all;\nand finding himself reduced to poverty, found a pretext for\ndivorcing my sister, and put her away.\n\nShe returned to this city, and having suffered incredible\nhardships by the way, came to me in so lamentable a condition\nthat it would have moved the hardest heart to compassion to\nbehold her. I received her with every possible tenderness, and\ninquiring into the cause of her distress, she told me with tears\nhow inhumanly her husband had behaved towards her. Her\nmisfortunes affected me: and I mingled my tears with hers. I took\nher to a bath, clothed her with my own apparel, and thus\naddressed her: \"Sister, you are the elder, and I esteem you as my\nmother: during your absence, God has blest the portion that fell\nto my share, and the employment I follow of breeding silk-worms.\nAssure yourself there is nothing I have but is at your service,\nand as much at your disposal as my own.\"\n\nWe lived very comfortably together for some months. As we were\none day conversing about our third sister, and wondering we\nreceived no intelligence of her, she came in as bad a condition\nas the eldest: her husband had treated her after the same manner;\nand I received her likewise with the same affection as I had done\nthe former.\n\nSome time after, my two sisters, on presence that they would not\nbe chargeable to me, told me they intended to marry again. I\nobserved, that if putting me to expense was the only reason, they\nmight lay those thoughts aside, and be welcome to remain: for\nwhat I had would be sufficient to maintain us all three, in a\nmanner answerable to our condition. \"But,\" I added, \"I rather\nbelieve you wish to marry again; I shall feel much surprised if\nsuch be the case. After the experience you have had of the little\nsatisfaction there is in wedlock, is it possible you dare venture\na second time? You know how rare it is to meet with a husband\nperfectly virtuous and deserving. Believe what I say, and let us\nlive together as comfortably as we can.\" All my persuasion was in\nvain; they were resolved to marry, and soon accomplished their\nwishes. But after some months were past, they returned again, and\nbegged my pardon a thousand times for not following my advice.\n\"You are our youngest sister,\" said they, \"but abundantly more\nwise than we; if you will vouchsafe to receive us once more into\nyour house, and account us your slaves, we shall never commit a\nsimilar fault again.\" My answer was, \"Dear sisters, I have not\naltered my mind with respect to you since we last parted: come\nagain, and take part of what I have.\" Upon this I embraced them,\nand we lived together as before.\n\nWe continued thus a whole year in perfect love and harmony.\nSeeing that God had increased my small stock, I projected a\nvoyage, to embark some of it in a commercial speculation. To this\nend,  I went with my two sisters to Bussorah, where I bought a\nship ready fitted for sea, and laded her with such merchandise as\nI had carried with me from Bagdad. We set sail with a fair wind,\nand soon cleared the Persian gulf; when we had reached the open\nsea, we steered our course to the Indies; and the twentieth day\nsaw land. It was a very high mountain, at the bottom of which we\nperceived a great town: having a fresh gale, we soon reached the\nharbour, and cast anchor.\n\nI had not patience to wait till my sisters were dressed to go\nalong with me, but went ashore alone in the boat. Making directly\nto the gate of the town, I saw there a great number of men upon\nguard, some sitting, and others standing with sticks in their\nhands; and they had all such dreadful countenances that I was\ngreatly alarmed; but perceiving they remained stationary, and did\nnot so much as move their eyes, I took courage, and went nearer,\nwhen I found they were all turned into stones. I entered the town\nand passed through several streets, where at different intervals\nstood men in various attitudes, but all motionless and petrified.\nIn the quarter inhabited by the merchants I found most of the\nshops shut, and in such as were open I likewise found the people\npetrified.\n\nHaving reached a vast square, in the heart of the city, I\nperceived a large folding gate, covered with plates of gold,\nwhich stood open; a curtain of silk stuff seemed to be drawn\nbefore it: a lamp hung over the entrance. After I had surveyed\nthe building, I made no doubt but it was the palace of the prince\nwho reigned over that country: and being much astonished that I\nhad not met with one living creature, I approached in hopes to\nfind some. I lifted up the curtain, and was surprised at\nbeholding no one but the guards in the vestibule all petrified;\nsome standing, some sitting, and some lying.\n\nI came to a large court, where I saw before me a stately\nbuilding, the windows of which were inclosed with gates of messy\ngold: I concluded it to be the queen's apartments. I entered; and\nin a large hall I found several black eunuchs turned into stone.\nI went from thence into a room richly furnished, where I\nperceived a lady in the same situation. I knew it to be the\nqueen, by the crown of gold on her head, and a necklace of pearls\nabout her neck, each of them as large as a nut; I approached her\nto have a nearer view of it, and never beheld a finer objets.\n\nI stood some time admiring the riches and magnificence of the\nroom; but above all, the carpet, the cushions, and the sofas,\nwhich were all ornamented with Indian stuff of gold, and\nrepresentations of men and beasts in silver, admirably executed.\n\nI quitted the chamber where the petrified queen was, and passed\nthrough several other apartments and closets richly furnished,\nand at last came into a large room, where there was a throne of\nmassive gold, raised several steps above the floor, and enriched\nwith large enchased emeralds, and upon the throne there was a bed\nof rich stuff embroidered with pearls. What surprised me most was\na sparkling light which came from above the bed. Being curious to\nknow whence it proceeded, I ascended the steps, and lifting up my\nhead, saw a diamond as large as the egg of an ostrich, lying upon\na low stool; it was so pure, that I could not find the least\nblemish in it, and it sparkled with so much brilliancy, that when\nI saw it by day-light I could not endure its lustre.\n\nAt the head of the bed there stood on each side a lighted\nflambeau, but for what use I could not comprehend; however, it\nmade me imagine that there was some living creature in this\nplace; for I could not believe that the torches continued thus\nburning of themselves. Several other rarities detained my\ncuriosity in this room, which was inestimable in value, were it\nonly for the diamond I mentioned.\n\nThe doors being all open, or but half shut, I surveyed some other\napartments, that were as beautiful as those I had already seen. I\nlooked into the offices and store-rooms, which were full of\nriches. In short, the wonders that everywhere appeared so wholly\nengrossed my attention, that I forgot my ship and my sisters, and\nthought of nothing but gratifying my curiosity. In the mean time\nnight came on, which reminded me that it was time to retire. I\nproposed to return the way I had entered, but I could not find\nit; I lost myself among the apartments; and perceiving I was come\nback again to the large room, where the throne, the couch, the\nlarge diamond, and the torches stood, I resolved to take my\nnight's lodging there, and to depart the next morning early, to\nget aboard my ship. I laid myself down upon a couch, not without\nsome dread to be alone in a desolate place; and this fear\nhindered my sleep.\n\nAbout midnight I heard a voice like that of a man reading the\nKoraun, after the same manner, and in the same tone as it is read\nin our mosques. Being extremely glad to hear it, I immediately\narose, and taking a torch in my hand, passed from one chamber to\nanother on that side from whence the sound proceeded. I came to\nthe closet-door, and stood still, not doubting that it came from\nthence. I set down my torch upon the ground, and looking through\na window, found it to be an oratory. It had, as we have in our\nmosques, a niche, to direct us whither we are to turn to say our\nprayers: there were also lamps hung up, and two candlesticks with\nlarge tapers of white wax burning.\n\nI saw a little carpet laid down like those we have to kneel upon\nwhen we say our prayers, and a comely young man sat on this\ncarpet reading with great devotion the Koraun, which lay before\nhim on a desk. At this sight I was transported with admiration. I\nwondered how it came to pass that he should be the only living\ncreature in a town where all the people were turned into stones,\nand I did not doubt but there was something in the circumstance\nvery extraordinary.\n\nThe door being only half shut, I opened it, went in, and standing\nupright before the niche, I repeated this prayer aloud: \"Praise\nbe to God, who has favoured us with a happy voyage, and may he be\ngraciously pleased to protect us in the same manner, until we\narrive again in our own country. Hear me, O Lord, and grant my\nrequest.\"\n\nThe young man turned his eyes towards me, and said, \"My good\nlady, pray let me know who you are, and what has brought you to\nthis desolate city? And, in return, I will you who I am, what has\nhappened to me, why the inhabitants of this city are reduced to\nthe state you see them in, and why I alone am safe in the midst\nof such a terrible disaster.\"\n\nI told him in a few words whence I had come, what had made me\nundertake the voyage, and how I safely arrived at the port after\ntwenty days' sailing; when I had done, I prayed him to perform\nhis promise, and told him how much I was struck by the frightful\ndesolation which I had seen in the city.\n\n\"Lady,\" said the young man, \"have patience for a moment.\" At\nthese words he shut the Koraun, put it into a rich case, and laid\nit in the niche. I took that opportunity to observe him, and\nperceiving in him so much good nature and beauty, I felt emotions\nI had never known before. He made me sit down by him, and before\nhe began his discourse, I could not forbear saying, with an air\nthat discovered the sentiments I felt, \"Amiable sir, dear object\nof my soul, I can scarcely have patience to wait for an account\nof all these wonderful objects that I have seen since I came into\nyour city; and my curiosity cannot be satisfied too soon:\ntherefore pray, sir, let me know by what miracle you alone are\nleft alive among so many persons that have died in so strange a\nmanner.\"\n\n\"Madam,\" said the young man, \"by the prayer you just now\naddressed to him, you have given me to understand that you have a\nknowledge of the true God. I will acquaint you with the most\nremarkable effect of his greatness and power. You must know, that\nthis city was the metropolis of a mighty kingdom, over which the\nsultan my father reigned. That prince, his whole court, the\ninhabitants of the city, and all his other subjects, were magi,\nworshippers of fire, and of Nardoun, the ancient king of the\ngiants, who rebelled against God.\n\n\"But though I was born of an idolatrous father and mother, I had\nthe good fortune in my youth to have a governess who was a good\nMoosulmaun. \u0091Dear prince,' would she oftentimes say, \u0091there is\nbut one true God; take heed that you do not acknowledge and adore\nany other.' She taught me to read Arabic, and the book she gave\nme to study was the Koraun. As soon as I was capable of\nunderstanding it, she explained to me all the passages of this\nexcellent book, and infused piety into my mind, unknown to my\nfather or any other person. She happened to die, but not before\nshe had perfectly instructed me in all that was necessary to\nconvince me of the truth of the Moosulmaun religion. After her\ndeath I persisted with constancy in the belief of its divinity:\nand I abhor the false god Nardoun, and the adoration of fire.\n\n\"About three years and some months ago, a thundering voice was\nsuddenly sounded so distinctly, through the whole city, that\nnobody could miss hearing it. The words were these: \u0091Inhabitants,\nabandon the worship of Nardoun, and of fire, and worship the only\nGod who shews mercy.'\n\n\"This voice was heard three years successively, but no one was\nconverted. On the last day of that year, at four o'clock in the\nmorning, all the inhabitants were changed in an instant into\nstone, every one in the condition and posture they happened to be\nin. The sultan, my father, shared the same fate, for he was\nmetamorphosed into a black stone, as he is to be seen in this\npalace, and the queen, my mother, had the like destiny.\n\n\"I am the only person who did not suffer under that heavy\njudgment, and ever since I have continued to serve God with more\nfervency than before. I am persuaded, dear lady, that he has sent\nyou hither for my comfort, for which I render him infinite\nthanks; for I must own that this solitary life is extremely\nirksome.\"\n\nAll these expressions, and particularly the last, greatly\nincreased my love for him. \"Prince,\" said I, \"there is no doubt\nbut Providence has brought me into your port, to afford you an\nopportunity of withdrawing from this dismal place. The ship I\ncame in may serve in some measure to convince you that I am in\nsome esteem at Bagdad, where I have left considerable property;\nand I dare engage to promise you sanctuary there, until the\nmighty commander of the faithful, vicegerent to our prophet whom\nyou acknowledge, shew you the honour that is due to your merit.\nThis renowned prince lives at Bagdad, and as soon as he is\ninformed of your arrival in his capital, you will find that it is\nnot in vain to implore his assistance. It is impossible you can\nstay any longer in a city where all the objects you behold must\nrenew your grief: my vessel is at your service, where you may\nabsolutely command as you shall think fit.\" He accepted the\noffer, and we conversed the remainder of the night concerning our\nembarkation.\n\nAs soon as it was day we left the palace, and went aboard my\nship, where we found my sisters, the captain, and the slaves, all\nmuch troubled at my absence. After I had presented my sisters to\nthe prince, I told them what had hindered my return the day\nbefore, how I had met with the young prince, his story, and the\ncause of the desolation of so fine a city.\n\nThe seamen were taken up several days in unlading the merchandize\nI brought with me, and embarking in its stead all the precious\nthings in the palace, such as jewels, gold, and money. We left\nthe furniture and goods, which consisted of an infinite quantity\nof plate, &c., because our vessel could not carry it, for it\nwould have required several vessels more to convey to Bagdad all\nthe riches that we might have chosen to take with us.\n\nAfter we had laden the vessel with what we thought most\ndesirable, we took such provisions and water aboard as were\nnecessary for our voyage (for we had still a great deal of those\nprovisions left that we had taken in at Bussorah); at last we set\nsail with a wind as favourable as we could wish.\n\nThe young prince, my sisters and myself, enjoyed ourselves for\nsome time very agreeably. But alas! this good understanding did\nnot last long, for my sisters grew jealous of the friendship\nbetween the prince and myself, and maliciously asked me one day,\nwhat we should do with him when we came to Bagdad? I perceived\nimmediately that they put this question on purpose to discover my\ninclinations; therefore, resolving to put it off with a jest, I\nanswered, \"I will take him for my husband;\" and upon that,\nturning myself to the prince, said, \"Sir, I humbly beg of you to\ngive your consent, for as soon as we come to Bagdad I desire to\noffer you my person to be your slave, to do you all the service\nthat is in my power, and to resign myself wholly to your\ncommands.\"\n\nThe prince replied, \"I know not, madam, whether you be in jest or\nno; but for my part, I seriously declare before these ladies,\nyour sisters, that from this moment I heartily accept your offer,\nnot with any intention to have you as a slave, but as my lady and\nmistress: nor will I pretend to have any power over your\nactions.\" At these words my sisters changed colour, and I could\nperceive afterwards that they did not love me as before.\n\nWe entered the Persian gulf, and had come within a short distance\nof Bussorah (where I hoped, considering the fair wind, we might\nhave arrived the day following), when in the night, while I was\nasleep, my sisters watched their opportunity, and threw me\noverboard. They did the same to the prince, who was drowned. I\nfloated some minutes on the water, and by good fortune, or rather\nmiracle, I felt ground. I went towards a dark spot, that, by what\nI could discern, seemed to be land, and proved to be a flat on\nthe coast, which, when day appeared, I found to be a desert\nisland, lying about twenty miles from Bussorah. I soon dried my\nclothes in the sun, and as I walked along I found several kinds\nof fruit, and likewise fresh water, which gave me some hopes of\npreserving my life.\n\nI had just laid myself down to rest in a shade, when I perceived\na very large winged serpent coming towards me, with an irregular\nwaving movement, and hanging out its tongue, which induced me to\nconclude it had received some injury. I instantly arose, and\nperceived that it was pursued by a larger serpent which had hold\nof its tail, and was endeavouring to devour it. This perilous\nsituation of the first serpent excited my pity, and instead of\nretreating I assumed courage to take up a stone that lay near me,\nand to throw it with all my strength at the other, which I hit\nupon the head and killed. The other, finding itself at liberty,\ntook wing and flew away. I looked after it for some time till it\ndisappeared. I then sought another shady spot for repose, and\nfell asleep.\n\nJudge what was my surprise when I awoke, to see standing by me a\nblack woman of lively and agreeable features, who held in her\nhand two bitches of the same colour, fastened together. I sat up,\nand asked her who she was? \"I am,\" said she, \"the serpent whom\nyou lately delivered from my mortal enemy. I did not know in what\nway I could better requite the important services you have\nrendered me than by what I have just done. The treachery of your\nsisters was well known to me, and to avenge your wrongs, as soon\nas I was liberated by your generous assistance, I called together\nseveral of my companions, fairies like myself, conveyed into your\nstorehouses at Bagdad all the lading of your vessel, and\nafterwards sunk it.\n\n\"These two black bitches are your sisters, whom I have\ntransformed into this shape. But this punishment will not\nsuffice; and my will is that you treat them hereafter in the way\nI shall direst.\"\n\nAs soon as she had thus spoken the fairy took me under one of her\narms, and the two bitches under the other, and conveyed us to my\nhouse in Bagdad; where I found in my storehouses all the riches\nwith which my vessel had been laden. Before she left me, she\ndelivered to me the two bitches, and said, \"If you would not be\nchanged into a similar form, I command you, in the name of him\nthat governs the sea, to give each of your sisters every night\none hundred lashes with a rod, as the punishment of the crime\nthey have committed against yourself, and the young prince, whom\nthey have drowned.\" I was forced to promise obedience. Since that\ntime I have whipped them every night, though with regret, whereof\nyour majesty has been a witness. My tears testify with how much\nsorrow and reluctance I perform this painful duty; and in this\nyour majesty may see I am more to be pitied than blamed. If there\nbe any thing else relating to myself that you desire to know, my\nsister Amene will give you full information in the relation of\nher story.\n\nAfter the caliph had heard Zobeide with much astonishment, he\ndesired his grand vizier to request Amene to acquaint him\nwherefore her breast was disfigured with so many scars.\n\nAmene addressed herself to the caliph, and began her story after\nthis manner:\n\n\n\n\n                      The Story of Amene.\n\n\n\nCommander of the faithful, to avoid repeating what your majesty\nhas already heard in my sister's story, I shall only add, that\nafter my mother had taken a house for herself to live in, during\nher widowhood, she gave me in marriage, with the portion my\nfather left me, to a gentleman who had one of the best estates in\nthe city.\n\nI had scarcely been a year married when I became a widow, and was\nleft in possession of all my husband's property, which amounted\nto 90,000 sequins. The interest of this money was sufficient to\nmaintain me very honourably. When the first six months of my\nmourning was over, I caused to be made for me ten different\ndresses, of such magnificence that each came to a thousand\nsequins; and at the end of the year I began to wear them.\n\nOne day, while I was alone engaged in my domestic affairs, I was\ntold that a lady desired to speak to me. I gave orders that she\nshould be admitted. She was a person advanced in years; she\nsaluted me by kissing the ground, and said to me kneeling, \"Dear\nlady, excuse the freedom I take to trouble you, the confidence I\nhave in your charity makes me thus bold. I must acquaint your\nladyship that I have an orphan daughter, who is to be married\nthis day. She and I are both strangers, and have no acquaintance\nin this town; which much perplexes me, for we wish the numerous\nfamily with whom we are going to ally ourselves to think we are\nnot altogether unknown and without credit: therefore, most\nbeautiful lady, if you would vouchsafe to honour the wedding with\nyour presence, we shall be infinitely obliged, because the ladies\nof our country, when informed that a lady of your rank has strewn\nus this respect, will then know that we are not regarded here as\nunworthy and despised persons. But, alas! madam, if you refuse\nthis request, how great will be our mortification! we know not\nwhere else to apply.\"\n\nThis poor woman's address, which she spoke with tears, moved my\ncompassion. \"Good woman,\" said I, \"do not afflict yourself, I\nwill grant you the favour you desire; tell me whither I must go,\nand I will meet you as soon as I am dressed.\" The old woman was\nso transported with joy at my answer, that she kissed my feet\nbefore I had time to prevent her. \"My compassionate lady,\" said\nshe, rising, \"God will reward the kindness you have shewed to\nyour servants, and make your heart as joyful as you have made\ntheirs. You need not at present trouble yourself; it will be time\nenough for you to go when I call for you in the evening. So\nfarewell, madam, till I have the honour to see you again.\"\n\nAs soon as she was gone, I took the suit I liked best, with a\nnecklace of large pearls, bracelets, pendents for my ears, and\nrings set with the finest and most sparkling diamonds; for my\nmind presaged what would befall me.\n\nWhen the night closed in, the old woman called upon me, with a\ncountenance full of joy. She kissed my hands, and said, \"My dear\nlady, the relations of my son-in-law, who are the principal\nladies of the city, are now met together; you may come when you\nplease; I am ready to conduct you.\" We immediately set out; she\nwalked before me, and I was followed by a number of my women and\nslaves properly dressed for the occasion. We stopt in a wide\nstreet, newly swept and watered, at a spacious gate with a lamp,\nby the light of which I read this inscription in golden letters\nover the entrance: \"This is the everlasting abode of pleasure and\njoy.\" The old woman knocked, and the gate was opened immediately.\n\nI was conducted towards the lower end of the court, into a large\nhall, where I was received by a young lady of admirable beauty.\nShe drew near, and after having embraced me, made me sit down by\nher upon a sofa, on which was raised a throne of precious wood\nset with diamonds. \"Madam,\" said she, \"you are brought hither to\nassist at a wedding; but I hope it will be a different wedding\nfrom what you expected. I have a brother, one of the handsomest\nmen in the world: he is fallen so much in love with the fame of\nyour beauty, that his fate depends wholly upon you, and he will\nbe the unhappiest of men if you do not take pity on him. He knows\nyour quality, and I can assure you he is in no respect unworthy\nof your alliance. If my prayers, madam, can prevail, I shall join\nthem with his, and humbly beg you will not refuse the proposal of\nbeing his wife.\"\n\nAfter the death of my husband I had not thought of marrying\nagain. But I had no power to refuse the solicitation of so\ncharming a lady. As soon as I had given consent by my silence,\naccompanied with a blush, the young lady claps her hands, and\nimmediately a closet-door opened, out of which came a young man\nof a majestic air, and so graceful a behaviour, that I thought\nmyself happy to have made so great a conquest. He sat down by me,\nand I found from his conversation that his merits far exceeded\nthe eulogium of his sister.\n\nWhen she perceived that we were satisfied with one another, she\nclaps her hands a second time, and out came a Cauzee, who wrote\nour contract of marriage, signed it himself, and caused it to be\nattested by four witnesses he brought along with him. The only\ncondition that my new husband imposed upon me was, that I should\nnot be seen by nor speak to any other man but himself, and he\nvowed to me that, if I complied in this respect, I should have no\nreason to complain of him. Our marriage was concluded and\nfinished after this manner; so I became the principal actress in\na wedding to which I had only been invited as a guest.\n\nAbout a month after our marriage, having occasion for some\nstuffs, I asked my husband's permission to go out to buy them,\nwhich he granted; and I took with me the old woman of whom I\nspoke before, she being one of the family, and two of my own\nfemale slaves.\n\nWhen we came to the street where the merchants reside, the old\nwoman said, \"Dear mistress, since you want silk stuffs, I must\ntake you to a young merchant of my acquaintance, who has a great\nvariety; and that you may not fatigue yourself by running from\nshop to shop, I can assure you that you will find in his what no\nother can furnish.\" I was easily persuaded, and we entered a shop\nbelonging to a young merchant who was tolerably handsome. I sat\ndown, and bade the old woman desire him to shew me the finest\nsilk stuffs he had. The woman desired me to speak myself; but I\ntold her it was one of the articles of my marriage contract not\nto speak to any man but my husband, which I ought to keep.\n\nThe merchant shewed me several stuffs, of which one pleased me\nbetter than the rest; but I bade her ask the price. He answered\nthe old woman, \"I will not sell it for gold or money, but I will\nmake her a present of it, if she will give me leave to kiss her\ncheek.\" I ordered the old woman to tell him, that he was very\nrude to propose such a freedom. But instead of obeying me, she\nsaid, \"What the merchant desires of you is no such great matter;\nyou need not speak, but only present him your cheek.\" The stuff\npleased me so much, that I was foolish enough to take her advice.\nThe old woman and my slaves stood up, that nobody might see, and\nI put up my veil; but instead of kissing me, the merchant bit me\nso violently as to draw blood.\n\nThe pain and my surprise were so great, that I fell down in a\nswoon, and continued insensible so long, that the merchant had\ntime to escape. When I came to myself, I found my cheek covered\nwith blood: the old woman and my slaves took care to cover it\nwith my veil, that the people who came about us could not\nperceive it, but supposed I had only had a fainting fit.\n\nThe old woman who accompanied me being extremely troubled at this\naccident, endeavoured to comfort me. \"My dear mistress,\" said\nshe, \"I beg your pardon, for I am the cause of this misfortune,\nhaving brought you to this merchant, because he is my countryman:\nbut I never thought he would be guilty of such a villainous\naction. But do not grieve; let us hasten home, I will apply a\nremedy that shall in three days so perfectly cure you, that not\nthe least mark shall be visible.\" The fit had made me so weak,\nthat I was scarcely able to walk. But at last I got home, where I\nagain fainted, as I went into my chamber. Meanwhile, the old\nwoman applied her remedy; I came to myself, and went to bed.\n\nMy husband came to me at night, and seeing my head bound up,\nasked me the reason. I told him I had the head-ache, which I\nhoped would have satisfied him, but he took a candle, and saw my\ncheek was hurt: \"How comes this wound?\" said he. Though I did not\nconsider myself as guilty of any great offence, yet I could not\nthink of owning the truth. Besides, to make such an avowal to a\nhusband, I considered as somewhat indecorous; I therefore said,\n\"That as I was going, under his permission, to purchase some silk\nstuff, a porter, carrying a load of wood, came so near to me, in\na narrow street, that one of the sticks grazed my cheek; but had\nnot done me much hurt.\" This account put my husband into a\nviolent passion. \"This act,\" said he, \"shall not go unpunished. I\nwill to-morrow order the lieutenant of the police to seize all\nthose brutes of porters, and cause them to be hanged.\" Fearful of\noccasioning the death of so many innocent persons, I said, \"Sir,\nI should be sorry so great a piece of injustice should be\ncommitted. Pray refrain; for I should deem myself unpardonable,\nwere I to be the cause of so much mischief.\" \"Then tell me\nsincerely,\" said he, \"how came you by this wound.\" \"I answered,\n\"That it was occasioned by the inadvertency of a broom-seller\nupon an ass, who coming behind me, while he was looking another\nway, his ass came against me with so much violence, that I fell\ndown, and hurt my cheek upon some glass.\" \"If that is the case,\"\nsaid my husband, \"to-morrow morning, before sun-rise, the grand\nvizier Jaaffier shall be informed of this insolence, and cause\nall the broom-sellers to be put to death.\" \"For the love of God,\nSir,\" said I, \"let me beg of you to pardon them, for they are not\nguilty.\" \"How, madam,\" he demanded, \"what then am I to believe?\nSpeak, for I am resolved to know the truth from your own mouth.\"\n\"Sir,\" I replied, \"I was taken with a giddiness, and fell down,\nand that is the whole matter.\"\n\nAt these words my husband lost all patience. \"I have,\" said he,\n\"too long listened to your falsehoods.\" As he spoke he clapped\nhis hands, and in came three slaves: \"Pull her out of bed,\" said\nhe, \"and lay her in the middle of the floor.\" The slaves obeyed,\none holding me by the head, another by the feet; he commanded the\nthird to fetch a cimeter, and when he had brought it, \"Strike,\"\nsaid he, \"cut her in two, and then throw her into the Tygris.\nThis is the punishment I inflict on those to whom I have given my\nheart, when they falsify their promise.\" When he saw that the\nslave hesitated to obey him, \"Why do you not strike?\" said he.\n\"What do you wait for?\"\n\n\"Madam,\" said the slave then, \"you are near the last moment of\nyour life, consider if you have any thing to dispose of before\nyou die.\" I begged permission to speak one word, which was\ngranted me. I lifted up my head, and casting an affectionate look\non my husband, said, \"Alas! to what a condition am I reduced!\nmust I then die in the prime of my youth!\" I could say no more,\nfor my tears and sighs choked my utterance. My husband was not at\nall moved, but, on the contrary, went on to reproach me; and it\nwould have been in vain to attempt a reply. I had recourse to\nintreaties and prayers; but he had no regard to them, and\ncommanded the slaves to proceed to execution. The old woman, who\nhad been his nurse, came in just at that moment, fell down upon\nher knees, and endeavoured to appease his wrath. \"My son,\" said\nshe, \"since I have been your nurse and brought you up, let me beg\nthe favour of you to grant me her life. Consider, that he who\nkills shall be killed, and that you will stain your reputation,\nand forfeit the esteem of mankind. What will the world say of\nsuch sanguinary violence?\" She spoke these words in such an\naffecting manner, accompanied with tears, that she prevailed upon\nhim at last to abandon his purpose,\n\n\"Well then,\" said he to his nurse, \"for your sake I will spare\nher life; but she shall bear about her person some marks to make\nher remember her offence.\" When he had thus spoken, one of the\nslaves, by his order, gave me upon my sides and breast so many\nblows, with a little cane, that he tore away both skin and flesh,\nwhich threw me into a swoon. In this state he caused the same\nslaves, the executioners of his fury, to carry me into a house,\nwhere the old woman took care of me. I kept my bed four months;\nat last I recovered: the scars which, contrary to my wish, you\nsaw yesterday, have remained ever since.\n\nAs soon as I was able to walk, and go abroad, I resolved to\nretire to the house which was left me by my first husband, but I\ncould not find the site whereon it had stood. My second husband,\nin the heat of his resentment, was not satisfied with the\ndemolition of that, but caused every other house in the same\nstreet to be razed to the ground. I believe such an act of\nviolence was never heard of before; but against whom could I\ncomplain? The perpetrator had taken good care to conceal himself.\nBut suppose I had discovered him, is it not easily seen that his\nconduct must have proceeded from absolute power? How then could I\ndare to complain?\n\nBeing left thus destitute and helpless, I had recourse to my dear\nsister Zobeide, whose adventures your majesty has just heard. To\nher I made known my misfortune; she received me with her\naccustomed goodness, and advised me to bear my ambition patience.\n\"This is the way of the world,\" said she, \"which either robs us\nof our property, our friends, or our lovers; and some. times of\nall together.\" In confirmation of her remark, she at the same\ntime gave me an account of the loss of the young prince,\noccasioned by the jealousy of her two sisters. She told me also\nby what accident they were transformed into bitches: and in the\nlast place, after a thousand testimonials of her love towards me,\nshe introduced me to my youngest sister, who had likewise taken\nsanctuary with her after the death of her mother.\n\nHaving returned our grateful acknowledgments to God for having\nthus brought us together, we resolved to preserve our freedom,\nand never again to separate. We have now long enjoyed this\ntranquil life. As it was my business to manage the affairs of the\nhouse, I always took pleasure in going myself to purchase what we\nwanted. I happened to go abroad yesterday for this purpose, and\nthe things I bought I caused to be carried home by a porter, who\nproving to be a sensible and jocose fellow, we kept with us for a\nlittle diversion. Three calenders happened to come to our door as\nit began to grow dark, and prayed us to give them shelter till\nthe next morning We admitted them upon certain conditions which\nthey agreed to observe; and after we had made them sit at table\nwith us, they in their own way entertained us with a concert of\nmusic. At this time we heard knocking at our gate. This proceeded\nfrom three merchants of Moussol, men of good appearance, who\nbegged the same favour which the calenders had obtained before.\nWe consented upon the same conditions, but neither of them kept\ntheir promise. Though we had power, as well as justice on our\nside, to punish them, yet we contented ourselves with demanding\nfrom them the history of their lives; and afterwards confined our\nrevenge to dismissing them, after they had done, and denying them\nthe asylum they requested.\n\nThe caliph was well pleased to be thus informed of what he\ndesired to know; and publicly expressed his admiration of what he\nhad heard.\n\nThe caliph having satisfied his curiosity, thought himself\nobliged to shew his generosity to the calender princes, and also\nto give the three ladies some proof of his bounty. He himself,\nwithout making use of his minister, the grand vizier, spoke to\nZobeide. \"Madam, did not this fairy, that shewed herself to you\nin the shape of a serpent, and imposed such a rigorous command\nupon you, tell you where her place of abode was? Or rather, did\nshe not promise to see you, and restore those bitches to their\nnatural shape?\"\n\n\"Commander of the faithful,\" answered Zobeide, \"I forgot to tell\nyour majesty that the fairy left with me a bundle of hair,\nsaying, that her presence would one day be of use to me; and\nthen, if I only burnt two tufts of this hair, she would be with\nme in a moment, though she were beyond mount Caucasus.\" \"Madam,\"\ndemanded the caliph, \"where is the bundle of hair?\" She answered,\n\"Ever since that time I have been so careful of it, that I always\ncarry it about me.\" Upon which she pulled it out, opened the case\nwhich contained it, and shewed it to him. \"Well then,\" said the\ncaliph, \"let us bring the fairy hither; you could not call her in\na better time, for I long to see her.\"\n\nZobeide having consented, fire was brought in, and she threw the\nwhole bundle of hair into it. The palace at that instant began to\nshake, and the fairy appeared before the caliph in the form of a\nlady very richly dressed.\n\n\"Commander of the faithful,\" said she to the prince, \"you see I\nam ready to receive your commands. The lady who gave me this call\nby your order did me essential service. To evince my gratitude, I\nrevenged her of her sisters' inhumanity, by changing them to\nbitches; but if your majesty commands me, I will restore them to\ntheir former shape.\"\n\n\"Generous fairy,\" replied the caliph, \"you cannot do me a greater\npleasure; vouchsafe them that favour, and I will find some means\nto comfort them for their hard penance. But besides, I have\nanother boon to ask in favour of that lady, who has had such\ncruel usage from an unknown husband. As you undoubtedly know all\nthings, oblige me with the name of this barbarous wretch, who\ncould not be contented to exercise his outrageous and unmanly\ncruelty upon her person, but has also most unjustly taken from\nher all her substance. I only wonder how such an unjust and\ninhuman action could be performed under my authority, and even in\nmy residence, without having come to my knowledge.\"\n\n\"To oblige your majesty,\" answered the fairy, \"I will restore the\ntwo bitches to their former state, and I will so cure the lady of\nher scars, that it shall never appear she was so beaten; and I\nwill also tell you who it was that abused her.\"\n\nThe caliph sent for the two bitches from Zobeide's house, and\nwhen they came, a glass of water was brought to the fairy by her\ndesire. She pronounced over it some words which nobody\nunderstood; then throwing some part of it upon Amene, and the\nrest upon the bitches, the latter became two ladies of surprising\nbeauty, and the scars that were upon Amene disappeared. After\nwhich the fairy said to the caliph, \"Commander of the faithful, I\nmust now discover to you the unknown husband you enquire after.\nHe is very nearly related to yourself, for it is prince Amin,\nyour eldest son, who falling passionately in love with this lady\nfrom the fame of her beauty, by stratagem had her brought to his\nhouse, where he married her. As to the blows he caused to be\ngiven her, he is in some measure excusable; for the lady his\nspouse had been a little too easy, and the excuses she had made\nwere calculated to lead him to believe she was more faulty than\nshe really was. This is all I can say to satisfy your curiosity.\"\nAt these words she saluted the caliph, and vanished.\n\nThe prince being filled with admiration, and having much\nsatisfaction in the changes that had happened through his means,\nacted in such a manner as will perpetuate his memory to all ages.\nFirst, he sent for his son Amin, told him that he was informed of\nhis secret marriage, and how he had ill-treated Amene upon a very\nslight cause. Upon this the prince did not wait for his father's\ncommands, but received her again immediately.\n\nAfter which the caliph declared that he would give his own heart\nand hand to Zobeide, and offered the other three sisters to the\ncalenders, sons of sultans, who accepted them for their brides\nwith much joy. The caliph assigned each of them a magnificent\npalace in the city of Bagdad, promoted them to the highest\ndignities of his empire, and admitted them to his councils.\n\nThe chief Cauzee of Bagdad being called, with witnesses, wrote\nthe contracts of marriage; and the caliph in promoting by his\npatronage the happiness of many persons who had suffered such\nincredible calamities, drew a thousand blessings upon himself.\n\n\n\n\n                THE STORY OF SINBAD THE VOYAGER.\n\n\n\nIn the reign of the same caliph Haroun al Rusheed, whom I have\nalready mentioned, there lived at Bagdad a poor porter called\nHindbad. One day, when the weather was excessively hot, he was\nemployed to carry a heavy burden from one end of the town to the\nother. Being much fatigued, and having still a great way to go,\nhe came into a street where a refreshing breeze blew on his face,\nand the pavement was sprinkled with rose-water. As he could not\ndesire a better place to rest and recruit himself, he took off\nhis load and sat upon it, near a large mansion.\n\nHe was much pleased that he stopped in this place; for the\nagreeable smell of wood of aloes, and of pastils that came from\nthe house, mixing with the scent of the rose-water, completely\nperfumed and embalmed the air. Besides, he heard from within a\nconcert of instrumental music, accompanied with the harmonious\nnotes of nightingales, and other birds, peculiar to the climate.\nThis charming melody, and the smell of several sorts of savoury\ndishes, made the porter conclude there was a feast, with great\nrejoicings within. His business seldom leading him that way, he\nknew not to whom the mansion belonged; but to satisfy his\ncuriosity, he went to some of the servants, whom he saw standing\nat the gate in magnificent apparel, and asked the name of the\nproprietor. \"How,\" replied one of them, \"do you live in Bagdad,\nand know not that this is the house of Sinbad, the sailor, that\nfamous voyager, who has sailed round the world?\" The porter, who\nhad heard of this Sinbad's riches, could not but envy a man whose\ncondition he thought to be as happy as his own was deplorable:\nand his mind being fretted with these reflections, he lifted up\nhis eyes to heaven, and said loud enough to be heard, \"Almighty\ncreator of all things, consider the difference between Sinbad and\nme! I am every day exposed to fatigues and calamities, and can\nscarcely get coarse barley-bread for myself and my family, whilst\nhappy Sinbad profusely expends immense riches, and leads a life\nof continual pleasure. What has he done to obtain from thee a lot\nso agreeable? And what have I done to deserve one so wretched?\"\nHaving finished his expostulation, he struck his foot against the\nground, like a man absorbed in grief and despair.\n\nWhilst the porter was thus indulging his melancholy, a servant\ncame out of the house, and taking him by the arm, bade him follow\nhim, for Sinbad, his master, wanted to speak to him.\n\nSir, your majesty may easily imagine, that the repining Hindbad\nwas not a little surprised at this compliment. For, considering\nwhat he had said, he was afraid Sinbad had sent for him to punish\nhim: therefore he would have excused himself, alleging, that he\ncould not leave his burden in the middle of the street. But\nSinbad's servants assured him they would look to it, and were so\nurgent with him, that he was obliged to yield.\n\nThe servants brought him into a great hall, where a number of\npeople sat round a table, covered with all sorts of savoury\ndishes. At the upper end sat a comely venerable gentleman, with a\nlong white beard, and behind him stood a number of officers and\ndomestics, all ready to attend his pleasure. This personage was\nSinbad. The porter, whose fear was increased at the sight of so\nmany people, and of a banquet so sumptuous, saluted the company\ntrembling. Sinbad bade him draw near, and seating him at his\nright hand, served him himself, and gave him excellent wine, of\nwhich there was abundance upon the sideboard.\n\nWhen the repast was over, Sinbad addressed his conversation to\nHindbad; and calling him brother, according to the manner of the\nArabians, when they are familiar one with another, enquired his\nname and employment.\n\n\"My lord,\" answered he, \"my name is Hindbad.\" \"I am very glad to\nsee you,\" replied Sinbad; \"and I daresay the same on behalf of\nall the company: but I wish to hear from your own mouth what it\nwas you lately said in the street.\" Sinbad had himself heard the\nporter complain through the window, and this it was that induced\nhim to have him brought in.\n\nAt this request, Hindbad hung down his head in confusion, and\nreplied, \"My lord, I confess that my fatigue put me out of\nhumour, and occasioned me to utter some indiscreet words, which I\nbeg you to pardon.\" \"Do not think I am so unjust,\" resumed\nSinbad, \"as to resent such a complaint. I consider your\ncondition, and instead of upbraiding, commiserate you. But I must\nrectify your error concerning myself. You think, no doubt, that I\nhave acquired, without labour and trouble, the ease and\nindulgence which I now enjoy. But do not mistake; I did not\nattain to this happy condition, without enduring for several\nyears more trouble of body and mind than can well be imagined.\nYes, gentlemen,\" he added, speaking to the whole company, \"I can\nassure you, my troubles were so extraordinary, that they were\ncalculated to discourage the most covetous from undertaking such\nvoyages as I did, to acquire riches. Perhaps you have never heard\na distinct account of my wonderful adventures, and the dangers I\nencountered, in my seven voyages; and since I have this\nopportunity, I will give you a faithful account of them, not\ndoubting but it will be acceptable.\"\n\nAs Sinbad wished to relate his adventures chiefly on the porter's\naccount, he ordered his burden to be carried to the place of its\ndestination, and then proceeded.\n\n\n\n\n                       The First Voyage.\n\n\n\nI inherited from my father considerable property, the greater\npart of which I squandered in my youth in dissipation; but I\nperceived my error, and reflected that riches were perishable,\nand quickly consumed by such ill managers as myself. I farther\nconsidered, that by my irregular way of living I wretchedly\nmisspent my time; which is, of all things, the most valuable. I\nremembered the saying of the great Solomon, which I had\nfrequently heard from my father; That death is more tolerable\nthan poverty. Struck with these reflections, I collected the\nremains of my fortune, and sold all my effects by public auction.\nI then entered into a contract with some merchants, who traded by\nsea. I took the advice of such as I thought most capable of\nassisting me: and resolving to improve what money I had, I went\nto Bussorah, and embarked with several merchants on board a ship\nwhich we had jointly fitted out.\n\nWe set sail, and steered our course towards the Indies, through\nthe Persian gulf, which is formed by the coasts of Arabia Felix\non the right, and by those of Persia on the left, and, according\nto common opinion is seventy leagues wide at the broadest place.\nThe eastern sea, as well as that of the Indies, is very spacious.\nIt is bounded on one side by the coasts of Abyssinia, and is\n4,500 leagues in length to the isles of Vakvak. At first I was\ntroubled with the sea-sickness, but speedily recovered my health,\nand was not afterwards subject to that complaint.\n\nIn our voyage we touched at several islands, where we sold or\nexchanged our goods. One day, whilst under sail, we were becalmed\nnear a small island, but little elevated above the level of the\nwater, and resembling a green meadow. The captain ordered his\nsails to be furled, and permitted such persons as were so\ninclined to land; of this number I was one.\n\nBut while we were enjoying ourselves in eating and drinking, and\nrecovering ourselves from the fatigue of the sea, the island on a\nsudden trembled, and shook us terribly.\n\nThe trembling of the island was perceived on board the ship, and\nwe were called upon to re-embark speedily, or we should all be\nlost; for what we took for an island proved to be the back of a\nsea monster. The nimblest got into the sloop, others betook\nthemselves to swimming; but for myself I was still upon the back\nof the creature, when he dived into the sea, and I had time only\nto catch hold of a piece of wood that we had brought out of the\nship to make a fire. Meanwhile, the captain, having received\nthose on board who were in the sloop, and taken up some of those\nthat swam, resolved to improve the favourable gale that had just\nrisen, and hoisting his sails pursued his voyage, so that it was\nimpossible for me to recover the ship.\n\nThus was I exposed to the mercy of the waves. I struggled for my\nlife all the rest of the day and the following night. By this\ntime I found my strength gone, and despaired of saving my life,\nwhen happily a wave threw me against an island, The bank was high\nand rugged; so that I could scarcely have got up, had it not been\nfor some roots of trees, which fortune seemed to have preserved\nin this place for my safety. Having reached the land, I lay down\nupon the ground half dead, until the sun appeared. Then, though I\nwas very feeble, both from hard labour and want of food, I crept\nalong to find some herbs fit to eat, and had the good luck not\nonly to procure some, but likewise to discover a spring of\nexcellent water, which contributed much to recover me. After this\nI advanced farther into the island, and at last reached a fine\nplain, where at a great distance I perceived a horse feeding. I\nwent towards it, fluctuating between hope and fear, for I knew\nnot whether in advancing I was more likely to endanger or to\npreserve my life. As I approached, I perceived it to be a very\nfine mare, tied to a stake. Whilst I was admiring its beauty, I\nheard from beneath the voice of a man, who immediately appeared,\nand asked me who I was? I related to him my adventure, after\nwhich, taking me by the hand, he led me into a cave, where there\nwere several other people, no less amazed to see me than I was to\nsee them.\n\nI partook of some provisions which they offered me. I then asked\nthem what they did in such a desert place? to which they\nanswered, that they were grooms belonging to Maha-raja, sovereign\nof the island; that every year, at the same season, they brought\nthither the king's mares, and fastened them as I had seen, until\nthey were covered by a sea-horse, who afterwards endeavoured to\ndestroy the mares; but was prevented by their noise, and obliged\nto return to the sea. The mares when in foal were taken back, and\nthe horses thus produced were kept for the king's use, and called\nseahorses. They added, that they were to return home on the\nmorrow, and had I been one day later, I must have perished,\nbecause the inhabited part of the island was at a great distance,\nand it would have been impossible for me to have got thither\nwithout a guide.\n\nWhile they entertained me thus, the horse came out of the sea, as\nthey had told me, covered the mare, and afterwards would have\ndevoured her; but upon a great noise made by the grooms, he left\nher, and plunged into the sea.\n\nNext morning they returned with their mares to the capital of the\nisland, took me with them, and presented me to the Maha-raja. He\nasked me who I was, and by what adventure I had come into his\ndominions? After I had satisfied him, he told me he was much\nconcerned for my misfortune, and at the same time ordered that I\nshould want nothing; which commands his officers were so generous\nand careful as to see exactly fulfilled.\n\nBeing a merchant, I frequented men of my own profession, and\nparticularly enquired for those who were strangers, that\nperchance I might hear news from Bagdad, or find an opportunity\nto return. For the Maha-raja's capital is situated on the sea-\ncoast, and has a fine harbour, where ships arrive daily from the\ndifferent quarters of the world. I frequented also the society of\nthe learned Indians, and took delight to hear them converse; but\nwithal, I took care to make my court regularly to the Maha-raja,\nand conversed with the governors and petty kings, his\ntributaries, that were about him. They put a thousand questions\nrespecting my country; and I being willing to inform myself as to\ntheir laws and customs, asked them concerning every thing which I\nthought worth knowing.\n\nThere belongs to this king an island named Cassel. They assured\nme that every night a noise of drums was heard there, whence the\nmariners fancied that it was the residence of Degial. I\ndetermined to visit this wonderful place, and in my way thither\nsaw fishes of 100 and 200 cubits long, that occasion more fear\nthan hurt; for they are so timorous, that they will fly upon the\nrattling of two sticks or boards. I saw likewise other fish about\na cubit in length, that had heads like owls.\n\nAs I was one day at the port after my return, a ship arrived, and\nas soon as she cast anchor, they began to unload her, and the\nmerchants on board ordered their goods to be carried into the\ncustomhouse. As I cast my eye upon some bales, and looked to the\nname, I found my own, and perceived the bales to be the same that\nI had embarked at Bussorah. I also knew the captain; but being\npersuaded that he believed me to be drowned, I went, and asked\nhim whose bales these were? He replied, that they belonged to a\nmerchant at Bagdad, called Sinbad, who came to sea with him; but\none day, being near an island, as was supposed, he went ashore,\nwith several other passengers, upon this island, which was only a\nmonstrous fish, that lay asleep upon the the sur-face of the\nwater: but as soon as he felt the heat of the fire they had\nkindled upon his back, to dress some victuals, began to move, and\ndived under water. Most of the persons who were upon him\nperished, and among them the unfortunate Sinbad. Those bales\nbelonged to him, and I am resolved to trade with them until I\nmeet with some of his family, to whom I may return the profit. \"I\nam that Sinbad,\" said I, \"whom you thought to be dead, and those\nbales are mine.\"\n\nWhen the captain heard me speak thus, \"Heavens!\" he exclaimed,\n\"whom can we trust in these times? There is no faith left among\nmen. I saw Sinbad perish with my own eyes, as did also the\npassengers on board, and yet you tell me you are that Sinbad.\nWhat impudence is this? To look on you, one would take you to be\na man of probity, and yet you tell a horrible falsehood, in order\nto possess yourself of what does not belong to you.\" \"Have\npatience,\" replied I; \"do me the favour to hear what I have to\nsay.\" \"Very well,\" said he, \"speak, I am ready to hear you.\" Then\nI told him how I had escaped, and by what adventure I met with\nthe grooms of Maha-raja, who had brought me to his court.\n\nHis confidence began to abate upon this declaration, and he was\nat length persuaded that I was no cheat: for there came people\nfrom his ship who knew me, paid me great compliments, and\nexpressed much joy at seeing me alive. At last he recollected me\nhimself, and embracing me, \"Heaven be praised,\" said he, \"for\nyour happy escape. I cannot express the joy it affords, me; there\nare your goods, take and do with them as you please.\" I thanked\nhim, acknowledged his probity, and in requital, offered him part\nof my goods as a present, which he generously refused.\n\nI took out what was most valuable in my bales, and presented them\nto the Maha-raja, who, knowing my misfortune, asked me how I came\nby such rarities. I acquainted him with the circumstance of their\nrecovery. He was pleased at my good luck, accepted my present,\nand in return gave me one much more considerable. Upon this, I\ntook leave of him, and went aboard the same ship, after I had\nexchanged my goods for the commodities of that country. I carried\nwith me wood of aloes, sandal, camphire, nutmegs, cloves, pepper,\nand ginger. We passed by several islands, and at last arrived at\nBussorah, from whence I came to this city, with the value of\nl00,000 sequins. My family and I received one another with all\nthe transports of sincere affection. I bought slaves of both\nsexes, and a landed estate, and built a magnificent house. Thus I\nsettled myself, resolving to forget the miseries I had suffered,\nand to enjoy the pleasures of life.\n\nSinbad stopped here, and ordered the musicians to proceed with\ntheir concert, which the story had interrupted. The company\ncontinued enjoying themselves till the evening, and it was time\nto retire, when Sinbad sent for a purse of 100 sequins and giving\nit to the porter, said, \"Take this, Hindbad, return to your home,\nand come back to-morrow to hear more of my adventures.\" The\nporter went away, astonished at the honour done, and the present\nmade him. The account of this adventure proved very agreeable to\nhis wife and children, who did not fail to return thanks to God\nfor what providence had sent him by the hand of Sinbad.\n\nHindbad put on his best apparel next day, and returned to the\nbountiful traveller, who received him with a pleasant air, and\nwelcomed him heartily. When all the guests had arrived, dinner\nwas served, and continued a long time. When it was ended, Sinbad,\naddressing himself to the company, said, \"Gentlemen, be pleased\nto listen to the adventures of my second voyage; they deserve\nyour attention even more than those of the first.\" Upon which\nevery one held his peace, and Sinbad proceeded.\n\n\n\n\n                       The Second Voyage.\n\n\n\nI designed, after my first voyage, to spend the rest of my days\nat Bagdad, as I had the honour to tell you yesterday; but it was\nnot long ere I grew weary of an indolent life. My inclination to\ntrade revived. I bought goods proper for the commerce I intended,\nand put to sea a second time with merchants of known probity. We\nembarked on board a good ship, and after recommending ourselves\nto God, set sail. We traded from island to island, and exchanged\ncommodities with great profit. One day we landed in an island\ncovered with several sorts of fruit-trees, but we could see\nneither man nor animal. We went to take a little fresh air in the\nmeadows, along the streams that watered them. Whilst some\ndiverted themselves with gathering flowers, and other fruits, I\ntook my wine and provisions, and sat down near a stream betwixt\ntwo high trees, which formed a thick shade. I made a good meal,\nand afterwards fell asleep. I cannot tell how long I slept, but\nwhen I awoke the ship was gone.\n\nI was much alarmed at finding the ship gone. I got up and looked\naround me, but could not see one of the merchants who landed with\nme. I perceived the ship under sail, but at such a distance, that\nI lost sight of her in a short time.\n\nI leave you to guess at my melancholy reflections in this sad\ncondition: I was ready to die with grief. I cried out in agony;\nbeat my head and breast, and threw myself upon the ground, where\nI lay some time in despair, one afflicting thought being\nsucceeded by another still more afflicting. I upbraided myself a\nhundred times for not being content with the produce of my first\nvoyage, that might have sufficed me all my life. But all this was\nin vain, and my repentance too late.\n\nAt last I resigned myself to the will of God. Not knowing what to\ndo, I climbed up to the top of a lofty tree, from whence I looked\nabout on all sides, to see if I could discover any thing that\ncould give me hopes. When I gazed towards the sea I could see\nnothing but sky and water; but looking over the land I beheld\nsomething white; and coming down, I took what provision I had\nleft, and went towards it, the distance being so great, that I\ncould not distinguish what it was.\n\nAs I approached, I thought it to be a white dome, of a prodigious\nheight and extent; and when I came up to it, I touched it, and\nfound it to be very smooth. I went round to see if it was open on\nany side, but saw it was not, and that there was no climbing up\nto the top as it was so smooth. It was at least fifty paces\nround.\n\nBy this time the sun was about to set, and all of a sudden the\nsky became as dark as if it had been covered with a thick cloud.\nI was much astonished at this sudden darkness, but much more when\nI found it occasioned by a bird of a monstrous size, that came\nflying toward me. I remembered that I had often heard mariners\nspeak of a miraculous bird called Roc, and conceived that the\ngreat dome which I so much admired must be its egg. In short, the\nbird alighted, and sat over the egg. As I perceived her coming, I\ncrept to the egg, so that I had before me one of the legs of the\nbird, which was as big as the trunk of a tree. I tied myself\nstrongly to it with my turban, in hopes that the roc next morning\nwould carry me with her out of this desert island. After having\npassed the night in this condition, the bird flew away as soon as\nit was daylight, and carried me so high, that I could not discern\nthe earth; she afterwards descended with so much rapidity that I\nlost my senses. But when I found myself on the ground, I speedily\nuntied the knot, and had scarcely done so, when the roc, having\ntaken up a serpent of a monstrous length in her bill, flew away.\n\nThe spot where it left me was encompassed on all sides by\nmountains, that seemed to reach above the clouds, and so steep\nthat there was no possibility of getting out of the valley. This\nwas a new perplexity: so that when I compared this place with the\ndesert island from which the roc had brought me, I found that I\nhad gained nothing by the change.\n\nAs I walked through this valley, I perceived it was strewed with\ndiamonds, some of which were of a surprising bigness. I took\npleasure in looking upon them; but shortly saw at a distance such\nobjects as greatly diminished my satisfaction, and which I could\nnot view without terror, namely, a great number of serpents, so\nmonstrous, that the least of them was capable of swallowing an\nelephant. They retired in the day-time to their dens, where they\nhid themselves from the roc their enemy, and came out only in the\nnight.\n\nI spent the day in walking about in the valley, resting myself at\ntimes in such places as I thought most convenient. When night\ncame on, I went into a cave, where I thought I might repose in\nsafety. I secured the entrance, which was low and narrow, with a\ngreat stone to preserve me from the serpents; but not so far as\nto exclude the light. I supped on part of my provisions, but the\nserpents, which began hissing round me, put me into such extreme\nfear, that you may easily imagine I did not sleep. When day\nappeared, the serpents retired, and I came out of the cave\ntrembling. I can justly say, that I walked upon diamonds, without\nfeeling any inclination to touch them. At last I sat down, and\nnotwithstanding my apprehensions, not having closed my eyes\nduring the night, fell asleep, after having eaten a little more\nof my provision. But I had scarcely shut my eyes, when something\nthat fell by me with a great noise awaked me. This was a large\npiece of raw meat; and at the same time I saw several others fall\ndown from the rocks in different places.\n\nI had always regarded as fabulous what I had heard sailors and\nothers relate of the valley of diamonds, and of the stratagems\nemployed by merchants to obtain jewels from thence; but now I\nfound that they had stated nothing but truth. For the fact is,\nthat the merchants come to the neighbourhood of this valley, when\nthe eagles have young ones, and throwing great joints of meat\ninto the valley, the diamonds, upon whose points they fall, stick\nto them; the eagles, which are stronger in this country than any\nwhere else, pounce with great force upon those pieces of meat,\nand carry them to their nests on the precipices of the rocks to\nfeed their young: the merchants at this time run to their nests,\ndisturb and drive off the eagles by their shouts, and take away\nthe diamonds that stick to the meat.\n\nUntil I perceived the device I had concluded it to be impossible\nfor me to get from this abyss, which I regarded as my grave; but\nnow I changed my opinion, and began to think upon the means of my\ndeliverance.\n\nI began to collect together the largest diamonds I could find,\nand put them into the leather bag in which I used to carry my\nprovisions. I afterwards took the largest of the pieces of meat,\ntied it close round me with the cloth of my turban, and then laid\nmyself upon the ground with my face downward, the bag of diamonds\nbeing made fast to my girdle.\n\nI had scarcely placed myself in this posture when the eagles\ncame. Each of them seized a piece of meat, and one of the\nstrongest having taken me up, with the piece of meat to which I\nwas fastened, carried me to his nest on the top of the mountain.\nThe merchants immediately began their shouting to frighten the\neagles; and when they had obliged them to quit their prey, one of\nthem came to the nest where I was. He was much alarmed when he\nsaw me; but recovering himself, instead of enquiring how I came\nthither began to quarrel with me, and asked, why I stole his\ngoods? \"You will treat me,\" replied I, \"with more civility, when\nyou know me better. Do not be uneasy, I have diamonds enough for\nyou and myself, more than all the other merchants together.\nWhatever they have they owe to chance, but I selected for myself\nin the bottom of the valley those which you see in this bag.\" I\nhad scarcely done speaking, when the other merchants came\ncrowding about us, much astonished to see me; but they were much\nmore surprised when I told them my story. Yet they did not so\nmuch admire my stratagem to effect my deliverance, as my courage\nin putting it into execution.\n\nThey conducted me to their encampment, and there having opened my\nbag, they were surprised at the largeness of my diamonds, and\nconfessed that in all the courts which they had visited they had\nnever seen any of such size and perfection. I prayed the\nmerchant, who owned the nest to which I had been carried (for\nevery merchant had his own), to take as many for his share as he\npleased. He contented himself with one, and that too the least of\nthem; and when I pressed him to take more, without fear of doing\nme any injury, \"No,\" said he, \"I am very well satisfied with\nthis, which is valuable enough to save me the trouble of making\nany more voyages, and will raise as great a fortune as I desire.\"\n\nI spent the night with the merchants, to whom I related my story\na second time, for the satisfaction of those who had not heard\nit. I could not moderate my joy when I found myself delivered\nfrom the danger I have mentioned. I thought myself in a dream,\nand could scarcely believe myself out of danger.\n\nThe merchants had thrown their pieces of meat into the valley for\nseveral days. And each of them being satisfied with the diamonds\nthat had fallen to his lot, we left the place the next morning,\nand travelled near high mountains, where there were serpents of a\nprodigious length, which we had the good fortune to escape. We\ntook shipping at the first port we reached, and touched at the\nisle of Roha, where the trees grow that yield camphire. This tree\nis so large, and its branches so thick, that one hundred men may\neasily sit under its shade. The juice, of which the camphire is\nmade, exudes from a hole bored in the upper part of the tree, is\nreceived in a vessel, where it thickens to a consistency, and\nbecomes what we call camphire; after the juice is thus drawn out,\nthe tree withers and dies.\n\nIn this island is also found the rhinoceros, an animal less than\nthe elephant, but larger than the buffalo. It has a horn upon its\nnose, about a cubit in length; this horn is solid, and cleft\nthrough the middle, upon this may be seen white lines,\nrepresenting the figure of a man. The rhinoceros fights with the\nelephant, runs his horn into his belly, and carries him off upon\nhis head but the blood and the fat of the elephant running into\nhis eyes, and making him blind, he falls to the ground; and then,\nstrange to relate! the roc comes and carries them both away in\nher claws, for food for her young ones.\n\nI pass over many other things peculiar to this island, lest I\nshould be troublesome to you. Here I exchanged some of my\ndiamonds for merchandize. From hence we went to other islands,\nand at last, having touched at several trading towns of the\ncontinent, we landed at Bussorah, from whence I proceeded to\nBagdad. There I immediately gave large presents to the poor, and\nlived honourably upon the vast riches I had brought, and gained\nwith so much fatigue.\n\nThus Sinbad ended the relation of the second voyage, gave Hindbad\nanother hundred sequins, and invited him to come the next day to\nhear the account of the third. The rest of the guests returned to\ntheir homes, and came again the following day at the same hour,\nand one may be sure the porter did not fail, having by this time\nalmost forgotten his former poverty. When dinner was over, Sinbad\ndemanded attention, and gave them an account of his third voyage,\nas follows.\n\n\n\n\nThe Third Voyage.\n\n\n\nI soon lost in the pleasures of life the remembrance of the\nperils I had encountered in my two former voyages; and being in\nthe flower of my age, I grew weary of living without business,\nand hardening myself against the thought of any danger I might\nincur, went from Bagdad to Bussorah with the richest commodities\nof the country. There I embarked again with some merchants. We\nmade a long voyage, and touched at several ports, where we\ncarried on a considerable trade. One day, being out in the main\nocean, we were overtaken by a dreadful tempest, which drove us\nfrom our course. The tempest continued several days, and brought\nus before the port of an island, which the captain was very\nunwilling to enter; but we were obliged to cast anchor. When we\nhad furled our sails, the captain told us, that this, and some\nother neighbouring islands, were inhabited by hairy savages, who\nwould speedily attack us; and. though they were but dwarfs, yet\nour misfortune was such, that we must make no resistance, for\nthey were more in number than the locusts; and if we happened to\nkill one of them, they would all fall upon us and destroy us.\n\nThis account of the captain, continued Sinbad put the whole\ncompany into great consternation and we soon found that what he\nhad told us was but too true; an innumerable multitude of\nfrightful savages, about two feet high, covered all over with red\nhair, came swimming towards us, and encompassed our ship. They\nspoke to us as they came near, but we understood not their\nlanguage; they climbed up the sides of the ship with such agility\nas surprised us. We beheld all this with dread, but without\ndaring to defend ourselves, or to divert them from their\nmischievous design. In short, they took down our sails, cut the\ncable, and hauling to the shore, made us all get out, and\nafterwards carried the ship into another island from whence they\nhad come. All voyagers carefully avoided the island where they\nleft us, it being very dangerous to stay there, for a reason you\nshall presently hear; but we were forced to bear our affliction\nwith patience.\n\nWe went forward into the island, where we gathered some fruits\nand herbs to prolong our lives as long as we could; but we\nexpected nothing but death. As we advanced, we perceived at a\ndistance a vast pile of building, and made towards it. We found\nit to be a palace, elegantly built, and very lofty, with a gate\nof ebony of two leaves, which we forced open. We entered the\ncourt, where we saw before us a large apartment, with a porch,\nhaving on one side a heap of human bones, and on the other a vast\nnumber of roasting spits. We trembled at this spectacle, and\nbeing fatigued with travelling, fell to the ground, seized with\ndeadly apprehension, and lay a long time motionless.\n\nThe sun set, and whilst we were in the lamentable condition I\nhave described, the gate of the apartment opened with a loud\ncrash, and there came out the horrible figure of a black man, as\ntall as a lofty palm-tree. He had but one eye, and that in the\nmiddle of his forehead, where it looked as red as a burning coal.\nHis fore-teeth were very long and sharp, and stood out of his\nmouth, which was as deep as that of a horse. His upper lip hung\ndown upon his breast. His ears resembled those of an elephant,\nand covered his shoulders; and his nails were as long and crooked\nas the talons of the greatest birds. At the sight of so frightful\na giant, we became insensible, and lay like dead men.\n\nAt last we came to ourselves, and saw him sitting in the porch\nlooking at us. When he had considered us well, he advanced\ntowards us, and laying his hand upon me, took me up by the nape\nof my neck, and turned round as a butcher would do a sheep's\nhead. After having examined me, and perceiving me to be so lean\nthat I had nothing but skin and bone, he let me go. He took up\nall the rest one by one, and viewed them in the same manner. The\ncaptain being the fattest, he held him with one hand, as I would\ndo a sparrow, and thrust a spit through him; he then kindled a\ngreat fire, roasted, and ate him in his apartment for his supper.\nHaving finished his repast, he returned to his porch, where he\nlay and fell asleep, snoring louder than thunder. He slept thus\ntill morning. As to ourselves, it was not possible for us to\nenjoy any rest, so that we passed the night in the most painful\napprehension that can be imagined. When day appeared the giant\nawoke, got up, went out, and left us in the palace.\n\nWhen we thought him at a distance, we broke the melancholy\nsilence we had preserved the whole of the night, and filled the\npalace with our lamentations and groans. Though we were several\nin number, and had but one enemy, it never occurred to us to\neffect our deliverance by putting him to death. This enterprize\nhowever, though difficult of execution, was the only design we\nought naturally to have formed.\n\nWe thought of several other expedients, but determined upon none;\nand submitting ourselves to what it should please God to order\nconcerning us, we spent the day in traversing the island,\nsupporting ourselves with fruits and herbs as we had done the day\nbefore. In the evening we sought for some place of shelter, but\nfound none; so that we were forced, whether we would or not, to\nreturn to the palace.\n\nThe giant failed not to return, and supped once more upon one of\nour companions, after which he slept, and snored till day, and\nthen went out and left us as before. Our situation appeared to us\nso dreadful, that several of my comrades designed to throw\nthemselves into the sea, rather than die so painful a death; and\nendeavoured to persuade the others to follow their example. Upon\nwhich one of the company answered, \"That we were forbidden to\ndestroy ourselves: but even if that were not the case, it was\nmuch more reasonable to devise some method to rid ourselves of\nthe monster who had destined us to so horrible a fate.\"\n\nHaving thought of a project for this purpose, I communicated it\nto my comrades, who approved it. \"Brethren,\" said I, \"you know\nthere is much timber floating upon the coast; if you will be\nadvised by me, let us make several rafts capable of bearing us,\nand when they are done, leave them there till we find it\nconvenient to use them. In the mean time, we will carry into\nexecution the design I proposed to you for our deliverance from\nthe giant, and if it succeed, we may remain here patiently\nawaiting the arrival of some ship to carry us out of this fatal\nisland; but if it happen to miscarry, we will take to our rafts,\nand put to sea. I admit that by exposing ourselves to the fury of\nthe waves, we run a risk of losing our lives; but is it not\nbetter to be buried in the sea than in the entrails of this\nmonster, who has already devoured two of our number?\" My advice\nwas approved, and we made rafts capable of carrying three persons\non each.\n\nWe returned to the palace towards the evening, and the giant\narrived shortly after. We were forced to submit to seeing another\nof our comrades roasted. But at last we revenged ourselves on the\nbrutish giant in the following manner. After he had finished his\ncursed supper, he lay down on his back, and fell asleep. As soon\nas we heard him snore, according to his custom, nine of the\nboldest among us, and myself, took each of us a spit, and putting\nthe points of them into the fire till they were burning hot, we\nthrust them into his eye all at once, and blinded him. The pain\nmade him break out into a frightful yell: he started up, and\nstretched out his hands, in order to sacrifice some of us to his\nrage: but we ran to such places as he could not reach; and after\nhaving sought for us in vain, he groped for the gate, and went\nout, howling in agony.\n\nWe quitted the palace after the giant, and came to the shore,\nwhere we had left our rafts, and put them immediately to sea. We\nwaited till day, in order to get upon them, in case the giant\nshould come towards us with any guide of his own species, but we\nhoped if he did not appear by sun-rising, and gave over his\nhowling, which we still heard, that he would prove to be dead;\nand if that happened to be the case, we resolved to stay in that\nisland, and not to risk our lives upon the rafts: but day had\nscarcely appeared, when we perceived our cruel enemy, accompanied\nwith two others almost of the same size, leading him; and a great\nnumber more coming before him at a quick pace.\n\nWe did not hesitate to take to our rafts, and put to sea with all\nthe speed we could. The giants, who perceived this, took up great\nstones, and running to the shore, entered the water up to the\nmiddle, and threw so exactly, that they sunk all the rafts but\nthat I was upon; and all my companions, except the two with me,\nwere drowned. We rowed with all our might, and got out of the\nreach of the giants. But when we got out to sea, we were exposed\nto the mercy of the waves and winds, and tossed about, sometimes\non one side, and sometimes on another, and spent that night and\nthe following day under the most painful uncertainty as to our\nfate; but next morning we had the good fortune to be thrown upon\nan island, where we landed with much joy. We found excellent\nfruit, which afforded us great relief, and recruited our\nstrength.\n\nAt night we went to sleep on the sea-shore but were awakened by\nthe noise of a serpent of surprising length and thickness, whose\nscales made a rustling noise as he wound himself along. It\nswallowed up one of my comrades, notwithstanding his loud cries,\nand the efforts he made to extricate himself from it; dashing him\nseveral times against the ground, it crushed him, and we could\nhear it gnaw and tear the poor wretch's bones, though we had fled\nto a considerable distance. The following day, to our great\nterror, we saw the serpent again, when I exclaimed, \"O heaven, to\nwhat dangers are we exposed! We rejoiced yesterday at having\nescaped from the cruelty of a giant and the rage of the waves,\nnow are we fallen into another danger equally dreadful.\"\n\nAs we walked about, we saw a large tall tree upon which we\ndesigned to pass the following night, for our security; and\nhaving satisfied our hunger with fruit, we mounted it according.\nShortly after, the serpent came hissing to the foot of the tree;\nraised himself up against the trunk of it, and meeting with my\ncomrade, who sat lower than I, swallowed him at once, and went\noff.\n\nI remained upon the tree till it was day, and then came down,\nmore like a dead man than one alive, expecting the same fate with\nmy two companions. This filled me with horror, and I advanced\nsome steps to throw myself into the sea; but the natural love of\nlife prompting us to prolong it as long as we can, I withstood\nthis dictate of despair, and submitted myself to the will of God,\nwho disposes of our lives at his pleasure.\n\nIn the mean time I collected together a great quantity of small\nwood, brambles, and dry thorns, . and making them up into\nfaggots, made a wide circle with them round the tree, and also\ntied some of them to the branches over my head. Having done this,\nwhen the evening came, I shut myself up within this circle, with\nthe melancholy satisfaction, that I had neglected nothing which\ncould preserve me from the cruel destiny with which I was\nthreatened. The serpent failed not to come at the usual hour, and\nwent round the tree, seeking for an opportunity to devour me, but\nwas prevented by the rampart I had made; so that he lay till day,\nlike a cat watching in vain for a mouse that has fortunately\nreached a place of safety. When day appeared, he retired, but I\ndared not to leave my fort until the sun arose.\n\nI felt so much fatigued by the labour to which it had put me, and\nsuffered so much from his poisonous breath, that death seemed\nmore eligible to me than the horrors of such a state. I came down\nfrom the tree, and, not thinking of the resignation I had the\npreceding day resolved to exercise, I ran towards the sea, with a\ndesign to throw myself into it.\n\nGod took compassion on my hopeless state; for just as I was going\nto throw myself into the sea, I perceived a ship at a\nconsiderable distance. I called as loud as I could, and taking\nthe linen from my turban, displayed it, that they might observe\nme. This had the desired effect; the crew perceived me, and the\ncaptain sent his boat for me. As soon as I came on board, the\nmerchants and seamen flocked about me, to know how I came into\nthat desert island; and after I had related to them all that had\nbefallen me, the oldest among them said to me, they had several\ntimes heard of the giants that dwelt in that island, that they\nwere cannibals, and ate men raw as well as roasted; and as to the\nserpents, they added, that there were abundance in the island\nthat hid themselves by day, and came abroad by night. After\nhaving testified their joy at my escaping so many dangers, they\nbrought me the best of their provisions; and the captain, seeing\nthat I was in rags, was so generous as to give me one of his own\nsuits. We continued at sea for some time, touched at several\nislands, and at last landed at that of Salabat, where sandal wood\nis obtained, which is of great use in medicine. We entered the\nport, and came to anchor. The merchants began to unload their\ngoods, in order to sell or exchange them. In the mean time, the\ncaptain came to me, and said, \"Brother, I have here some goods\nthat belonged to a merchant, who sailed some time on board this\nship, and he being dead, I design to dispose of them for the\nbenefit of his heirs, when I find who they are.\" The bales he\nspoke of lay on the deck, and shewing them to me, he said, \"There\nare the goods; I hope you will take care to sell them, and you\nshall have factorage.\" I thanked him for thus affording me an\nopportunity of employing myself, because I hated to be idle.\n\nThe clerk of the ship took an account of all the bales, with the\nnames of the merchants to whom they belonged. And when he asked\nthe captain in whose name he should enter those he had given me\nthe charge of; \"Enter them,\" said the captain, \"in the name of\nSinbad.\" I could not hear myself named without some emotion; and\nlooking stedfastly on the captain, I knew him to be the person\nwho, in my second voyage, had left me in the island where I fell\nasleep, and sailed without me, or sending to see for me. But I\ncould not recollect him at first, he was so much altered since I\nhad seen him.\n\nI was not surprised that he, believing me to be dead, did not\nrecognize me. \"Captain,\" said I, \"was the merchant's name, to\nwhom those bales belonged, Sinbad?\" \"Yes,\" replied he, \"that was\nhis name; he came from Bagdad, and embarked on board my ship at\nBussorah. One day, when we landed at an island to take in water\nand other refreshments, I knew not by what mistake, I sailed\nwithout observing that he did not re-embark with us; neither I\nnor the merchants perceived it till four hours after. We had the\nwind in our stern, and so fresh a gale, that it was not then\npossible for us to tack about for him.\" \"You believe him then to\nbe dead?\" said I. \"Certainly,\" answered he. \"No, captain,\" I\nresumed; \"look at me, and you may know that I am Sinbad, whom you\nleft in that desert island.\"\n\nThe captain, continued Sinbad, having considered me attentively,\nrecognized me. \"God be praised,\" said he, embracing me; \"I\nrejoice that fortune has rectified my fault. There are your\ngoods, which I always took care to preserve.\" I took them from\nhim, and made him the acknowledgments to which he was entitled.\n\nFrom the isle of Salabat, we went to another, where I furnished\nmyself with cloves, cinnamon, and other spices. As we sailed from\nthis island, we saw a tortoise twenty cubits in length and\nbreadth. We observed also an amphibious animal like a cow, which\ngave milk; its skin is so hard, that they usually make bucklers\nof it. I saw another, which had the shape and colour of a camel.\n\nIn short, after a long voyage, I arrived at Bussorah, and from\nthence returned to Bagdad, with so much wealth that I knew not\nits extent. I gave a great deal to the poor, and bought another\nconsiderable estate in addition to what I had already.\n\nThus Sinbad finished the history of his third voyage; gave\nanother hundred sequins to Hindbad, invited him to dinner again\nthe next day, to hear the story of his fourth voyage. Hindbad and\nthe company retired; and on the following day, when they\nreturned, Sinbad after dinner continued the relation of his\nadventures.\n\n\n\n\n                       The Fourth Voyage.\n\n\n\nThe pleasures and amusements which I enjoyed after my third\nvoyage had not charms sufficient to divert me from another. My\npassion for trade, and my love of novelty, again prevailed. I\ntherefore settled my affairs, and having provided a stock of\ngoods fit for the traffic I designed to engage in, I set out on\nmy journey. I took the route of Persia, travelled over several\nprovinces, and then arrived at a port, where I embarked. We\nhoisted our sails, and touched at several ports of the continent,\nand some of the eastern islands, and put out to sea: we were\novertaken by such a sudden gust of wind, as obliged the captain\nto lower his yards, and take all other necessary precautions to\nprevent the danger that threatened us. But all was in vain our\nendeavours had no effect; the sails were split in a thousand\npieces, and the ship was stranded; several of the merchants and\nseamen were drowned and the cargo was lost.\n\nI had the good fortune, with several of the merchants and\nmariners, to get upon some planks, and we were carried by the\ncurrent to an island which lay before us. There we found fruit\nand spring water, which preserved our lives. We staid all night\nnear the place where we had been cast ashore, without consulting\nwhat we should do; our misfortune had so much dispirited us that\nwe could not deliberate.\n\nNext morning, as soon as the sun was up, we walked from the\nshore, and advancing into the island, saw some houses, which we\napproached. As soon as we drew near, we were encompassed by a\ngreat number of negroes, who seized us, shared us among them, and\ncarried us to their respective habitations.\n\nI, and five of my comrades, were carried to one place; here they\nmade us sit down, and gave us a certain herb, which they made\nsigns to us to eat. My comrades not taking notice that the blacks\nate none of it themselves, thought only of satisfying their\nhunger, and ate with greediness. But I, suspecting some trick,\nwould not so much as taste it, which happened well for me; for in\nlittle time after, I perceived my companions had lost their\nsenses, and that when they spoke to me, they knew not what they\nsaid.\n\nThe negroes fed us afterwards with rice, prepared with oil of\ncocoa-nuts; and my comrades, who had lost their reason, ate of it\ngreedily. I also partook of it, but very sparingly. They gave us\nthat herb at first on purpose to deprive us of our senses, that\nwe might not be aware of the sad destiny prepared for us; and\nthey supplied us with rice to fatten us; for, being cannibals,\ntheir design was to eat us as soon as we grew fat. This\naccordingly happened, for they devoured my comrades, who were not\nsensible of their condition; but my senses being entire, you may\neasily guess that instead of growing fat, as the rest did, I grew\nleaner every day. The fear of death under which I laboured,\nturned all my food into poison. I fell into a languishing\ndistemper, which proved my safety; for the negroes, having killed\nand eaten my companions, seeing me to be withered, lean, and\nsick, deferred my death.\n\nMeanwhile I had much liberty, so that scarcely any notice was\ntaken of what I did, and this gave me an opportunity one day to\nget at a distance from the houses, and to make my escape. An old\nman, who saw me, and suspected my design, called to me as loud as\nhe could to return; but instead of obeying him, I redoubled my\nspeed, and quickly got out of sight. At that time there was none\nbut the old man about the houses, the rest being abroad, and not\nto return till night, which was usual with them. Therefore, being\nsure that they could not arrive time enough to pursue me, I went\non till night, when I stopped to rest a little, and to eat some\nof the provisions I had secured; but I speedily set forward\nagain, and travelled seven days, avoiding those places which\nseemed to be inhabited, and lived for the most part upon cocoa-\nnuts, which served me both for meat and drink. On the eighth day\nI came near the sea, and saw some white people like myself,\ngathering pepper, of which there was great plenty in that place.\nThis I took to be a good omen, and went to them without any\nscruple.\n\nThe people who gathered pepper came to meet me as soon as they\nsaw me, and asked me in Arabic who I was, and whence I came? I\nwas overjoyed to hear them speak in my own language, and\nsatisfied their curiosity, by giving them an account of my\nshipwreck, and how I fell into the hands of the negroes. \"Those\nnegroes,\" replied they, \"eat men, and by what miracle did you\nescape their cruelty?\" I related to them the circumstances I have\njust mentioned, at which they were wonderfully surprised.\n\nI staid with them till they had gathered their quantity of\npepper, and then sailed with them to the island from whence they\nhad come. They presented me to their king, who was a good prince.\nHe had the patience to hear the relation of my adventures, which\nsurprised him; and he afterwards gave me clothes, and commanded\ncare to be taken of me.\n\nThe island was very well peopled, plentiful in everything, and\nthe capital a place of great trade. This agreeable retreat was\nvery comfortable to me after my misfortunes, and the kindness of\nthis generous prince completed my satisfaction. In a word, there\nwas not a person more in favour with him than myself; and,\nconsequently, every man in court and city sought to oblige me; so\nthat in a very little time I was looked upon rather as a native\nthan a stranger.\n\nI observed one thing, which to me appeared very extraordinary.\nAll the people, the king himself not excepted, rode their horses\nwithout saddle, bridle, or stirrups. This made me one day take\nthe liberty to ask the king how it came to pass? His majesty\nanswered, that I talked to him of things which nobody knew the\nuse of in his dominions.\n\nI went immediately to a workman, and gave him a model for making\nthe stock of a saddle. When that was done, I covered it myself\nwith velvet and leather, and embroidered it with gold. I\nafterwards went to a smith, who made me a bit, according to the\npattern I shewed him, and also some stirrups. When I had all\nthings completed, I presented them to the king, and put them upon\none of his horses. His majesty mounted immediately, and was so\npleased with them, that he testified his satisfaction by large\npresents. I could not avoid making several others for the\nministers and principal officers of his household, who all of\nthem made me presents that enriched me in a little time. I also\nmade some for the people of best quality in the city, which\ngained me great reputation and regard.\n\nAs I paid my court very constantly to the king, he said to me one\nday, \"Sinbad, I love thee; and all my subjects who know thee,\ntreat thee according to my example. I have one thing to demand of\nthee, which thou must grant.\" \"Sir,\" answered I, \"there is\nnothing but I will do, as a mark of my obedience to your majesty,\nwhose power over me is absolute.\" \"I have a mind thou shouldst\nmarry,\" replied he, \"that so thou mayst stay in my dominions, and\nthink no more of thy own country.\" I durst not resist the\nprince's will, and he gave me one of the ladies of his court,\nnoble, beautiful, and rich. The ceremonies of marriage being\nover, I went and dwelt with my wife, and for some time we lived\ntogether in perfect harmony. I was not, however, satisfied with\nmy banishment, therefore designed to make my escape the first\nopportunity, and to return to Bagdad; which my present\nsettlement, how advantageous soever, could not make me forget.\n\nAt this time the wife of one of my neighbours, with whom I had\ncontrasted a very strict friendship, fell sick, and died. I went\nto see and comfort him in his affliction, and finding him\nabsorbed in sorrow, I said to him as soon as I saw him, \"God\npreserve you and grant you a long life.\" \"Alas!\" replied he, \"how\ndo you think I should obtain the favour you wish me? I have not\nabove an hour to live.\" \"Pray,\" said I, \"do not entertain such a\nmelancholy thought; I hope I shall enjoy your company many\nyears.\" \"I wish you,\" he replied, \"a long life; but my days are\nat an end, for I must be buried this day with my wife. This is a\nlaw which our ancestors established in this island, and it is\nalways observed inviolably. The living husband is interred with\nthe dead wife, and the living wife with the dead husband. Nothing\ncan save me; every one must submit to this law.\"\n\nWhile he was giving me an account of this barbarous custom, the\nvery relation of which chilled my blood, his kindred, friends,\nand neighbours, came in a body to assist at the funeral. They\ndressed the corpse of the woman in her richest apparel, and all\nher jewels, as if it had been her wedding-day; then they placed\nher on an open coffin, and began their march to the place of\nburial. The husband walked at the head of the company, and\nfollowed the corpse. They proceeded to a high mountain, and when\nthey had reached the place of their destination, they took up a\nlarge stone, which covered the mouth of a deep pit, and let down\nthe corpse with all its apparel and jewels. Then the husband,\nembracing his kindred and friends, suffered himself to be put\ninto another open coffin without resistance, with a pot of water,\nand seven small loaves, and was let down in the same manner. The\nmountain was of considerable length, and extended along the sea-\nshore, and the pit was very deep. The ceremony being over, the\naperture was again covered with the stone, and the company\nreturned.\n\nIt is needless for me to tell you that I was a most melancholy\nspectator this funeral, while the rest were scarcely moved, the\ncustom was to them so familiar. I could not forbear communicating\nto the king my sentiment respecting the practice: \"Sir,\" I said,\n\"I cannot but feel astonished at the strange usage observed in\nthis country, of burying the living with the dead. I have been a\ngreat traveller, and seen many countries, but never heard of so\ncruel a law.\" \"What do you mean, Sinbad?\" replied the king: \"it\nis a common law. I shall be interred with the queen, my wife, if\nshe die first.\" \"But, Sir,\" said I, \"may I presume to ask your\nmajesty, if strangers be obliged to observe this law?\" \"Without\ndoubt,\" returned the king (smiling at the occasion of my\nquestion), \"they are not exempted, if they be married in this\nisland.\"\n\nI returned home much depressed by this answer; for the fear of my\nwife's dying first, and that I should be interred alive with her,\noccasioned me very uneasy reflections. But there was no remedy; I\nmust have patience, and submit to the will of God. I trembled\nhowever at every little indisposition of my wife. Alas! in a\nlittle time my fears were realized, for she fell sick, and died.\n\nJudge of my sorrow; to be interred alive, seemed to me as\ndeplorable a termination of life as to be devoured by cannibals.\nIt was necessary, however, to submit. The king and all his court\nexpressed their wish to honour the funeral with their presence,\nand the most considerable people of the city did the same. When\nall was ready for the ceremony, the corpse was put into a coffin,\nwith all her jewels and her most magnificent apparel. The\nprocession began, and as second actor in this doleful tragedy, I\nwent next the corpse, with my eyes full of tears, bewailing my\ndeplorable fate. Before we reached the mountain, I made an\nattempt to affect the minds of the spectators: I addressed myself\nto the king first, and then to all those that were round me;\nbowing before them to the earth, and kissing the border of their\ngarments, I prayed them to have compassion upon me. \"Consider,\"\nsaid I, \"that I am a stranger, and ought not to be subject to\nthis rigorous law, and that I have another wife and children in\nmy own country.\" Although I spoke in the most pathetic manner, no\none was moved by my address; on the contrary, they ridiculed my\ndread of death as cowardly, made haste to let my wife's corpse\ninto the pit, and lowered me down the next moment in an open\ncoffin, with full of water and seven loaves. In short, the fatal\nceremony being performed, they covered over the mouth of the pit,\nnotwithstanding my grief and piteous lamentations.\n\nAs I approached the bottom, I discovered by the aid of the little\nlight that came from above the nature of this subterranean place,\nit seemed an endless cavern, and might be about fifty fathom\ndeep. I was annoyed by an insufferable stench proceeding from the\nmultitude of bodies which I saw on the right and left; nay, I\nfancied that I heard some of them sigh out their last. However,\nwhen I got down, I immediately left my coffin, and getting at a\ndistance from the bodies, held my nose, and lay down upon the\nground, where I stayed a considerable time, bathed in tears. At\nlast, reflecting on my melancholy case, \"It is true,\" said I,\n\"that God disposes all things according to the degrees of his\nprovidence; but, unhappy Sinbad, hast thou any but thyself to\nblame that thou art brought to die so strange a death? Would to\nGod thou hadst perished in some of those tempests which thou hast\nescaped! then thy death had not been so lingering, and so\nterrible in all its circumstances. But thou hast drawn all this\nupon thyself by thy inordinate avarice. Ah, unfortunate wretch!\nshouldst thou not rather have remained at home, and quietly\nenjoyed the fruits of thy labour?\"\n\nSuch were the vain complaints with which I filled the cave,\nbeating my head and breast out of rage and despair, and\nabandoning myself to the most afflicting thoughts. Nevertheless,\nI must tell you, that instead of calling death to my assistance\nin that miserable condition, I felt still an inclination to live,\nand to do all I could to prolong my days. I went groping about,\nwith my nose stopped, for the bread and water that was in my\ncoffin, and took some of it. Though the darkness of the cave was\nso great that I could not distinguish day and night, yet I always\nfound my coffin again, and the cave seemed to be more spacious\nand fuller of bodies than it had appeared to be at first. I lived\nfor some days upon my bread and water, which being all spent, I\nat last prepared for death.\n\nAs I was thinking of death, I heard the stone lifted up from the\nmouth of the cave, and immediately the corpse of a man was let\ndown When reduced to necessity, it is natural to come to extreme\nresolutions. While they let down the woman I approached the place\nwhere her coffin was to be put, and as soon as I perceived they\nwere again covering the mouth of the cave, gave the unfortunate\nwretch two or three violent blows over the head, with a large\nbone; which stunned, or, to say the truth, killed her. I\ncommitted this inhuman action merely for the sake of the bread\nand water that was in her coffin, and thus I had provision for\nsome days more. When that was spent, they letdown another dead\nwoman, and a living man; I killed the man in the same manner,\nand, as there was then a sort of mortality in the town, by\ncontinuing this practice I did not want for provisions.\n\nOne day after I had dispatched another woman, I heard something\ntread, and breathing or panting as it walked. I advanced towards\nthat side from whence I heard the noise, and on my approach the\ncreature puffed and blew harder, as if running away from me. I\nfollowed the noise, and the thing seemed to stop sometimes, but\nalways fled and blew as I approached. I pursued it for a\nconsiderable time, till at last I perceived a light, resembling a\nstar; I went on, sometimes lost sight of it, but always found it\nagain, and at last discovered that it came through a hole in the\nrock, large enough to admit a man.\n\nUpon this, I stopped some time to rest, being much fatigued with\nthe rapidity of my progress: afterwards coming up to the hole, I\ngot through, and found myself upon the sea shore. I leave you to\nguess the excess of my joy: it was such, that I could scarcely\npersuade myself that the whole was not a dream.\n\nBut when I was recovered from my surprise, and convinced of the\nreality of my escape, I perceived what I had followed to be a\ncreature which came out of the sea, and was accustomed to enter\nthe cavern and feed upon the bodies of the dead.\n\nI examined the mountain, and found it to be situated betwixt the\nsea and the town, but without any passage to or communication\nwith the latter; the rocks on the sea side being high and\nperpendicularly steep. I prostrated myself on the shore to thank\nGod for this mercy, and afterwards entered the cave again to\nfetch bread and water, which I ate by daylight with a better\nappetite than I had done since my interment in the dark cavern\n\nI returned thither a second time, and groped among the coffins\nfor all the diamonds, rubies,, pearls, gold bracelets, and rich\nstuffs I could find; these I brought to the shore, and tying them\nup neatly into bales, with the cords that let down the coffins, I\nlaid them together upon the beach, waiting till some ship might\nappear, without fear of rain, for it was then the dry season.\n\nAfter two or three days, I perceived a ship just come out of the\nharbour, making for the place where I was. I made a sign with the\nlinen of my turban, and called to the crew as loud as I could.\nThey heard me, and sent a boat to bring me on board, when they\nasked by what misfortune I came thither; I told them that I had\nsuffered shipwreck two days before, and made shift to get ashore\nwith the goods they saw. It was fortunate for me that these\npeople did not consider the place where I was, nor enquire into\nthe probability of what I told them; but without hesitation took\nme on board with my goods. When I came to the ship, the captain\nwas so well pleased to have saved me, and so much taken up with\nhis own affairs, that he also took the story of my pretended\nshipwreck upon trust, and generously refused some jewels which I\noffered him.\n\nWe passed by several islands, and among others that called the\nisle of Bells, about ten days' sail from Serendib, with a regular\nwind, and six from that of Kela, where we landed. This island\nproduces lead mines, Indian canes, and excellent camphire.\n\nThe king of the isle of Kela is very rich and powerful, and the\nisle of Bells, which is about two days journey in extent, is also\nsubject to him. The inhabitants are so barbarous that they still\neat human flesh. After we had finished our traffic in that\nisland, we put to sea again, and touched at several other ports;\nat last I arrived happily at Bagdad with infinite riches, of\nwhich it is needless to trouble you with the detail. Out of\ngratitude to God for his mercies, I contributed liberally towards\nthe support of several mosques, and the subsistence of the poor,\ngave myself up to the society of my kindred and friends, enjoying\nmyself with them in festivities and amusements.\n\nHere Sinbad finished the relation of his fourth voyage, which\nappeared more surprising to the company than the three former. He\nmade a new present of one hundred sequins to Hindbad, whom he\nrequested to return with the rest next day at the same hour to\ndine with him, and hear the story of his fifth voyage. Hindbad\nand the other guests took their leave and retired. Next morning\nwhen they all met, they sat down at table, and when dinner was\nover, Sinbad began the relation of his fifth voyage as follows.\n\n\n\n\n                       The Fifth Voyage.\n\n\n\nThe pleasures I enjoyed had again charms enough to make me forget\nall the troubles and calamities I had undergone, but could not\ncure me of my inclination to make new voyages. I therefore bought\ngoods, departed with them for the best sea-port; and there, that\nI might not be obliged to depend upon a captain, but have a ship\nat my own command, I remained till one was built on purpose, at\nmy own charge. When the ship was ready, I went on board with my\ngoods; but not having enough to load her, I agreed to take with\nme several merchants of different nations with their merchandize.\n\nWe sailed with the first fair wind, and after a long navigation\nthe first place we touched at was a desert island, where we found\nan egg of a roe, equal in size to that I formerly mentioned.\nThere was a young roc it just ready to be hatched, and its bill\nhad begun to appear.\n\nThe merchants whom I had taken on board, and who landed with me,\nbroke the egg with hatchets, and made a hole in it, pulled out\nthe young roc piecemeal, and roasted it. I had earnestly\nintreated them not to meddle with the egg, but they would not\nlisten to me.\n\nScarcely had they finished their repast, when there appeared in\nthe air at a considerable distance from us two great clouds. The\ncaptain whom I had hired to navigate my ship, knowing by\nexperience what they meant, said they were the male and female\nroc that belonged to the young one, and pressed us to re-embark\nwith all speed, to prevent the misfortune which he saw would\notherwise befall us. We hastened on board, and set sail with all\npossible expedition.\n\nIn the mean time, the two roes approached with a frightful noise,\nwhich they redoubled when they saw the egg broken, and their\nyoung one gone. They flew back in the direction they had come,\nand disappeared for some time, while we made all the sail we\ncould to endeavour to prevent that which unhappily befell us.\n\nThey soon returned, and we observed that each of them carried\nbetween its talons stones, or\n\nrather rocks, of a monstrous size. When they came directly over\nmy ship, they hovered, and one of them let fall a stone, but by\nthe dexterity of the steersman it missed us, and falling into the\nsea, divided the water so that we could almost see the bottom.\nThe other roe, to our misfortune, threw his messy burden so\nexactly upon the middle of the ship, as to split it into a\nthousand pieces. The mariners and passengers were all crushed to\ndeath, or sunk. I myself was of the number of the latter; but as\nI came up again, I fortunately caught hold of a piece of the\nwreck, and swimming sometimes with one hand, and sometimes with\nthe other, but always holding fast my board, the wind and the\ntide favouring me, I came to an island, whose shore was very\nsteep. I overcame that difficulty, however, and got ashore.\n\nI sat down upon the grass, to recover myself from my fatigue,\nafter which I went into the island to explore it. It seemed to be\na delicious garden. I found trees everywhere, some of them\nbearing green, and others ripe fruits, and streams of fresh pure\nwater running in pleasant meanders. I ate of the fruits, which I\nfound excellent; and drank of the water, which was very light and\ngood.\n\nWhen night closed in, I lay down upon the grass in a convenient\nspot, but could not sleep an hour at a time, my mind being\napprehensive of danger. I spent best part of the night in alarm,\nand reproached myself for my imprudence in not remaining at home,\nrather than undertaking this last voyage. These reflections\ncarried me so far, that I began to form a design against my life;\nbut daylight dispersed these melancholy thoughts. I got up, and\nwalked among the trees, but not without some fears.\n\nWhen I was a little advanced into the island, I saw an old man,\nwho appeared very weak and infirm. He was sitting on the bank of\na stream, and at first I took him to be one who had been\nshipwrecked like myself. I went towards him and saluted him, but\nhe only slightly bowed his head. I asked him why he sat so still,\nbut instead of answering me, he made a sign for me to take him\nupon my back, and carry him over the brook, signifying that it\nwas to gather fruit.\n\nI believed him really to stand in need of my assistance, took him\nupon my back, and having carried him over, bade him get down, and\nfor that end stooped, that he might get off with ease; but\ninstead of doing so (which I laugh at every time I think of it)\nthe old man, who to me appeared quite decrepid, clasped his legs\nnimbly about my neck, when I perceived his skin to resemble that\nof a cow. He sat astride upon my shoulders, and held my throat so\ntight, that I thought he would have strangled me, the\napprehension of which make me swoon and fall down.\n\nNotwithstanding my fainting, the ill-natured old fellow kept fast\nabout my neck, but opened his legs a little to give me time to\nrecover my breath. When I had done so, he thrust one of his feet\nagainst my stomach, and struck me so rudely on the side with the\nother, that he forced me to rise up against my will. Having\narisen, he made me walk under the trees, and forced me now and\nthen to stop, to gather and eat fruit such as we found. He never\nleft me all day, and when I lay down to rest at night, laid\nhimself down with me, holding always fast about my neck. Every\nmorning he pushed me to make me awake, and afterwards obliged me\nto get up and walk, and pressed me with his feet. You may judge\nthen, gentlemen, what trouble I was in, to be loaded with such a\nburden of which I could not get rid.\n\nOne day I found in my way several dry calebashes that had fallen\nfrom a tree. I took a large one, and after cleaning it, pressed\ninto it some juice of grapes, which abounded in the island;\nhaving filled the calebash, I put it by in a convenient place,\nand going thither again some days after, I tasted it, and found\nthe wine so good, that it soon made me forget my sorrow, gave me\nnew vigour, and so exhilarated my spirits, that I began to sing\nand dance as I walked along.\n\nThe old man, perceiving the effect which this liquor had upon me,\nand that I carried him with more ease than before, made me a sign\nto give him some of it. I handed him the calebash, and the liquor\npleasing his palate, he drank it all off. There being a\nconsiderable quantity of it, he became drunk immediately, and the\nfumes getting up into his head, he began to sing after his\nmanner, and to dance with his breech upon my shoulders. His\njolting made him vomit, and he loosened his legs from about me by\ndegrees. Finding that he did not press me as before, I threw him\nupon the ground, where he lay without motion; I then took up a\ngreat stone, and crushed his head to pieces.\n\nI was extremely glad to be thus freed for ever from this\ntroublesome fellow. I now walked towards the beach, where I met\nthe crew of a ship that had cast anchor, to take in water. They\nwere surprised to see me, but more so at hearing the particulars\nof my adventures. \"You fell,\" said they, \"into the hands of the\nold man of the sea, and are the first who ever escaped strangling\nby his malicious tricks. He never quitted those he had once made\nhimself master of, till he had destroyed them, and he has made\nthis island notorious by the number of men he has slain; so that\nthe merchants and mariners who landed upon it, durst not advance\ninto the island but in numbers at a time.\"\n\nAfter having informed me of these things, they carried me with\nthem to the ship; the captain received me with great kindness,\nwhen they told him what had befallen me. He put out again to sea,\nand after some days' sail, we arrived at the harbour of a great\ncity, the houses of which were built with hewn stone.\n\nOne of the merchants who had taken me into his friendship invited\nme to go along with him, and carried me to a place appointed for\nthe accommodation of foreign merchants. He gave me a large bag,\nand having recommended me to some people of the town, who used to\ngather cocoa-nuts, desired them to take me with them. \"Go,\" said\nhe, \"follow them, and act as you see them do, but do not separate\nfrom them, otherwise you may endanger your life.\" Having thus\nspoken, he gave me provisions for the journey, and I went with\nthem.\n\nWe came to a thick forest of cocoa-trees, very lofty, with trunks\nso smooth that it was not possible to climb to the branches that\nbore the fruit. When we entered the forest we saw a great number\nof apes of several sizes, who fled as soon as they perceived us,\nand climbed up to the top of the trees with surprising swiftness.\n\nThe merchants with whom I was, gathered stones and threw them at\nthe apes on the trees. I did the same, and the apes out of\nrevenge threw cocoa-nuts at us so fast, and with such gestures,\nas sufficiently testified their anger and resentment. We gathered\nup the cocoa-nuts, and from time to time threw stones to provoke\nthe apes; so that by this stratagem we filled our bags with\ncocoa-nuts, which it had been impossible otherwise to have done.\n\nWhen we had gathered our number, we returned to the city, where\nthe merchant, who had sent me to the forest, gave me the value of\nthe cocoas I brought: \"Go on,\" said he, \"and do the like every\nday, until you have got money enough to carry you home.\" I\nthanked him for his advice, and gradually collected as many\ncocoa-nuts as produced me a considerable sum.\n\nThe vessel in which I had come sailed with some merchants, who\nloaded her with cocoa-nuts. I expected the arrival of another,\nwhich anchored soon after for the like loading. I embarked in her\nall the cocoa-nuts I had, and when she was ready to sail, took\nleave of the merchant who had been so kind to me; but he could\nnot embark with me, because he had not finished his business at\nthe port.\n\nWe sailed towards the islands, where pepper grows in great\nplenty. From thence we went to the isle of Comari, where the best\nspecies of wood of aloes grows, and whose inhabitants have made\nit an inviolable law to themselves to drink no wine, and suffer\nno place of debauch. I exchanged my cocoa in those two islands\nfor pepper and wood of aloes, and went with other merchants a\npearl-fishing. I hired divers, who brought me up some that were\nvery large and pure. I embarked in a vessel that happily arrived\nat Bussorah; from thence I returned to Bagdad, where I made vast\nsums of my pepper, wood of aloes, and pearls. I gave the tenth of\nmy gains in alms, as I had done upon my return from my other\nvoyages, and endeavoured to dissipate my fatigues by amusements\nof different kinds.\n\nWhen Sinbad had finished his story, he ordered one hundred\nsequins to be given to Hindbad, who retired with the other\nguests; but next morning the same company returned to dine with\nrich Sinbad; who, after having treated them as formerly,\nrequested their attention, and gave the following account of his\nsixth voyage.\n\n\n\n\n                       The Sixth Voyage.\n\n\n\nGentlemen, you long without doubt to know, how, after having been\nshipwrecked five times, and escaped so many dangers, I could\nresolve again to tempt fortune, and expose myself to new\nhardships? I am, myself, astonished at my conduct when I reflect\nupon it, and must certainly have been actuated by my destiny. But\nbe that as it may, after a year's rest I prepared for a sixth\nvoyage, notwithstanding the intreaties of my kindred and friends,\nwho did all in their power to dissuade me.\n\nInstead of taking my way by the Persian gulf, I travelled once\nmore through several provinces of Persia and the Indies, and\narrived at a sea-port, where I embarked in a ship, the captain of\nwhich was bound on a long voyage. It was long indeed, and at the\nsame time so unfortunate, that the captain and pilot lost their\ncourse. They however at last discovered where they were, but we\nhad no reason to rejoice at the circumstance. Suddenly we saw the\ncaptain quit his post, uttering loud lamentations. He threw off\nhis turban, pulled his beard, and beat his head like a madman. We\nasked him the reason, and he answered, that he was in the most\ndangerous place in all the ocean. \"A rapid current carries the\nship along with it, and we shall all perish in less than a\nquarter of an hour. Pray to God to deliver us from this peril; we\ncannot escape, if he do not take pity on us.\" At these words he\nordered the sails to be lowered; but all the ropes broke, and the\nship was carried by the current to the foot of an inaccessible\nmountain, where she struck and went to pieces, yet in such a\nmanner that we saved our lives, our provisions, and the best of\nour goods.\n\nThis being over, the captain said to us, \"God has done what\npleased him. Each of us may dig his grave, and bid the world\nadieu; for we are all in so fatal a place, that none shipwrecked\nhere ever returned to their homes.\" His discourse afflicted us\nsensibly, and we embraced each other, bewailing our deplorable\nlot.\n\nThe mountain at the foot of which we were wrecked formed part of\nthe coast of a very large island. It was covered with wrecks, and\nfrom the vast number of human bones we saw everywhere, and which\nfilled us with horror, we concluded that multitudes of people had\nperished there. It is also incredible what a quantity of goods\nand riches we found cast ashore. All these objects served only to\naugment our despair. In all other places, rivers run from their\nchannels into the sea, but here a river of fresh water runs out\nof the sea into a dark cavern, whose entrance is very high and\nspacious. What is most remarkable in this place is, that the\nstones of the mountain are of crystal, rubies, or other precious\nstones. Here is also a sort of fountain of pitch or bitumen, that\nruns into the sea, which the fish swallow, and evacuate soon\nafterwards, turned into ambergris: and this the waves throw up on\nthe beach in great quantities. Trees also grow here, most of\nwhich are wood of aloes, equal in goodness to those of Comari.\n\nTo finish the description of this place, which may well be called\na gulf, since nothing ever returns from it, it is not possible\nfor ships to get off when once they approach within a certain\ndistance. If they be driven thither by a wind from the sea, the\nwind and the current impel them; and if they come into it when a\nland-wind blows, which might seem to favour their getting out\nagain, the height of the mountain stops the wind, and occasions a\ncalm, so that the force of the current carries them ashore: and\nwhat completes the misfortune is, that there is no possibility of\nascending the mountain, or of escaping by sea.\n\nWe continued upon the shore in a state of despair, and expected\ndeath every day. At first we divided our provisions as equally as\nwe could, and thus every one lived a longer or shorter time,\naccording to his temperance, and the use he made of his\nprovisions.\n\nThose who died first were interred by the survivors, and I paid\nthe last duty to all my companions: nor are you to wonder at\nthis; for besides that I husbanded the provision that fell to my\nshare better than they, I had some of my own which I did not\nshare with my comrades; yet when I buried the last, I had so\nlittle remaining, that I thought I could not long survive: I dug\na grave, resolving to lie down in it, because there was no one\nleft to inter me. I must confess to you at the same time, that\nwhile I was thus employed, I could not but reproach myself as the\ncause of my own ruin, and repented that I had ever undertaken\nthis last voyage. Nor did I stop at reflections only, but had\nwell nigh hastened my own death, and began to tear my hands with\nmy teeth.\n\nBut it pleased God once more to take compassion on me, and put it\nin my mind to go to the bank of the river which ran into the\ngreat cavern. Considering its probable course with great\nattention, I said to myself, \"This river, which runs thus under\nground, must somewhere have an issue. If I make a raft, and leave\nmyself to the current, it will convey me to some inhabited\ncountry, or I shall perish. If I be drowned, I lose nothing, but\nonly change one kind of death for another; and if I get out of\nthis fatal place, I shall not only avoid the sad fate of my\ncomrades, but perhaps find some new occasion of enriching myself.\nWho knows but fortune waits, upon my getting off this dangerous\nshelf, to compensate my shipwreck with usury.\"\n\nI immediately went to work upon large pieces of timber and\ncables, for I had choice of them, and tied them together so\nstrongly, that I soon made a very solid raft. When I had\nfinished, I loaded it with some bulses of rubies, emeralds,\nambergris, rock-crystal, and bales of rich stuffs. Having\nbalanced my cargo exactly, and fastened it well to the raft, I\nwent on board with two oars that I had made, and leaving it to\nthe course of the river, resigned myself to the will of God.\n\nAs soon as I entered the cavern, I lost all light, and the stream\ncarried me I knew not whither. Thus I floated some days in\nperfect darkness, and once found the arch so low, that it very\nnearly touched my head, which made me cautious afterwards to\navoid the like danger. All this while I ate nothing but what was\njust necessary to support nature; yet, notwithstanding my\nfrugality, all my provisions were spent. Then a pleasing stupor\nseized upon me. I cannot tell how long it continued; but when I\nrevived, I was surprised to find myself in an extensive plain on\nthe brink of a river, where my raft was tied, amidst a great\nnumber of negroes. I got up as soon as I saw them, and saluted\nthem. They spoke to me, but I did not understand their language.\nI was so transported with joy, that I knew not whether I was\nasleep or awake; but being persuaded that I was not asleep, I\nrecited the following words in Arabic aloud: \"Call upon the\nAlmighty, he will help thee; thou needest not perplex thyself\nabout any thing else: shut thy eyes, and while thou art asleep,\nGod will change thy bad fortune into good.\"\n\nOne of the blacks, who understood Arabic, hearing me speak thus,\ncame towards me, and said, \"Brother, be not surprised to see us,\nwe are inhabitants of this country, and came hither to-day to\nwater our fields, by digging little canals from this river, which\ncomes out of the neighbouring mountain. We observed something\nfloating upon the water, went to see what it was, and, perceiving\nyour raft, one of us swam into the river, and brought it thither,\nwhere we fastened it, as you see, until you should awake. Pray\ntell us your history, for it must be extraordinary; how did you\nventure yourself into this river, and whence did you come?\" \"I\nbegged of them first to give me something to eat, and then I\nwould satisfy. their curiosity. They gave me several sorts of\nfood, and when I had satisfied my hunger, I related all that had\nbefallen me, which they listened to with attentive surprise. As\nsoon as I had finished, they told me, by the person who spoke\nArabic and interpreted to them what I said, that it was one of\nthe most wonderful stories they had ever heard, and that I must\ngo along with them, and tell it their king myself; it being too\nextraordinary to be related by any other than the person to whom\nthe events had happened. I assured them that I was ready to do\nwhatever they pleased.\n\nThey immediately sent for a horse, which was brought in a little\ntime; and having helped me to mount, some of them walked before\nto shew the way, while the rest took my raft and cargo and\nfollowed.\n\nWe marched till we came to the capital of Serendib, for it was in\nthat island I had landed. The blacks presented me to their king;\nI approached his throne, and saluted him as I used to do the\nkings of the Indies; that is to say, I prostrated myself at his\nfeet. The prince ordered me to rise, received me with an obliging\nair, and made me sit down near him. He first asked me my name,\nand I answered, \"People call me Sinbad the voyager, because of\nthe many voyages I have undertaken, and I am a citizen of\nBagdad.\" \"But,\" resumed he, \"how came you into my dominions, and\nfrom whence came you last?\"\n\nI concealed nothing from the king; I related to him all that I\nhave told you, and his majesty was so surprised and pleased, that\nhe commanded my adventures to be written in letters of gold, and\nlaid up in the archives of his kingdom. At last my raft was\nbrought in, and the bales opened in his presence; he admired the\nquantity of wood of aloes and ambergris, but, above all, the\nrubies and emeralds, for he had none in his treasury that\nequalled them.\n\nObserving that he looked on my jewels with pleasure, and viewed\nthe most remarkable among them one after another, I fell\nprostrate at his feet, and took the liberty to say to him, \"Sir,\nnot only my person is at your majesty's service, but the cargo of\nthe raft, and I would beg of you to dispose of it as your own.\"\nHe answered me with a smile, \"Sinbad, I will take care not to\ncovet any thing of yours, or to take any thing from you that God\nhas given you; far from lessening your wealth, I design to\naugment it, and will not let you quit my dominions without marks\nof my liberality.\" All the answer I returned were prayers for the\nprosperity of that nobly minded prince, and commendations of his\ngenerosity and bounty. He charged one of his officers to take\ncare of me, and ordered people to serve me at his own expence.\nThe officer was very faithful in the execution of his commission,\nand caused all the goods to be carried to the lodgings provided\nfor me.\n\nI went every day at a set hour to make my court to the king, and\nspent the rest of my time in viewing the city, and what was most\nworthy of notice.\n\nThe isle of Serendib is situated just under the equinoctial line;\nso that the days and nights there are always of twelve hours\neach, and the island is eighty parasangs in length, and as many\nin breadth.\n\nThe capital stands at the end of a fine valley, in the middle of\nthe island, encompassed by mountains the highest in the world.\nThey are seen three days' sail off at sea. Rubies and several\nsorts of minerals abound, and the rocks are for the most part\ncomposed of a metalline stone made use of to cut and polish other\nprecious stones. All kinds of rare plants and trees grow there,\nespecially cedars and cocoa-nut. There is also a pearl-fishing in\nthe mouth of its principal river; and in some of its valleys are\nfound diamonds. I made, by way of devotion, a pilgrimage to the\nplace where Adam was confined after his banishment from Paradise,\nand had the curiosity to go to the top of the mountain.\n\nWhen I returned to the city, I prayed the king to allow me to\nreturn to my own country, and he granted me permission in the\nmost obliging and most honourable manner. He would needs force a\nrich present upon me; and when I went to take my leave of him, he\ngave me one much more considerable, and at the same time charged\nme with a letter for the commander of the faithful, our\nsovereign, saying to me, \"I pray you give this present from me,\nand this letter to the caliph, and assure him of my friendship.\"\nI took the present and letter in a very respectful manner, and\npromised his majesty punctually to execute the commission with\nwhich he was pleased to honour me. Before I embarked, this prince\nsent for the captain and the merchants who were to go with me,\nand ordered them to treat me with all possible respect.\n\nThe letter from the king of Serendib was written on the skin of a\ncertain animal of great value, because of its being so scarce,\nand of a yellowish colour. The characters of this letter were of\nazure, and the contents as follows:\n\n\"The king of the Indies, before whom march one hundred elephants,\nwho lives in a palace that shines with one hundred thousand\nrubies, and who has in his treasury twenty thousand crowns\nenriched with diamonds, to caliph Haroon al Rusheed.\n\n\"Though the present we send you be inconsiderable, receive it\nhowever as a brother and a friend, in consideration of the hearty\nfriendship which we bear for you, and of which we are willing to\ngive you proof. We desire the same part in your friendship,\nconsidering that we believe it to be our merit, being of the same\ndignity with yourself. We conjure you this in quality of a\nbrother. Adieu.\"\n\nThe present consisted first, of one single ruby made into a cup,\nabout half a foot high, an inch thick, and filled with round\npearls of half a drachm each. 2. The skin of a serpent, whose\nscales were as large as an ordinary piece of gold, and had the\nvirtue to preserve from sickness those who lay upon it. 3. Fifty\nthousand drachms of the best wood of aloes, with thirty grains of\ncamphire as big as pistachios. 4. A female slave of ravishing\nbeauty, whose apparel was all covered over with jewels.\n\nThe ship set sail, and after a very successful navigation we\nlanded at Bussorah, and from thence I went to Bagdad, where the\nfirst thing I did was to acquit myself of my commission.\n\nScheherazade stopped, because day appeared, and next night\nproceeded thus.\n\nI took the king of Serendib's letter, and went to present myself\nat the gate of the commander of the faithful, followed by the\nbeautiful slave, and such of my own family as carried the\npresents. I stated the reason of my coming, and was immediately\nconducted to the throne of the caliph. I made my reverence, and,\nafter a short speech, gave him the letter and present. When he\nhad read what the king of Serendib wrote to him, he asked me, if\nthat prince were really so rich and potent as he represented\nhimself in his letter? I prostrated myself a second time, and\nrising again, said, \"Commander of the faithful, I can assure your\nmajesty he doth not exceed the truth. I bear him witness. Nothing\nis more worthy of admiration than the magnificence of his palace.\nWhen the prince appears in public, he has a throne fixed on the\nback of an elephant, and marches betwixt two ranks of his\nministers, favourites, and other people of his court; before him,\nupon the same elephant, an officer carries a golden lance in his\nhand; and behind the throne there is another, who stands upright,\nwith a column of gold, on the top of which is an emerald half a\nfoot long, and an inch thick; before him march a guard of one\nthousand men, clad in cloth of gold and silk, and mounted on\nelephants richly caparisoned.\n\n\"While the king is on his march, the officer, who is before him\non the same elephant, cries\n\nfrom time to time, with a loud voice, \u0091Behold the great monarch,\nthe potent and redoubtable sultan of the Indies, whose palace is\ncovered with one hundred thousand rubies, and who possesses\ntwenty thousand crowns of diamonds. Behold the monarch greater\nthan Solomon, and the powerful Maha-raja.' After he has\npronounced those words, the officer behind the throne cries in\nhis turn, \u0091This monarch, so great and so powerful, must die, must\ndie, must die.' And the officer before replies, \u0091Praise be to him\nwho lives for ever.'\n\n\"Farther, the king of Serendib is so just, that there are no\njudges in his dominions. His people have no need of them. They\nunderstand and observe justice rigidly of themselves.\"\n\nThe caliph was much pleased with my account. \"The wisdom of that\nking,\" said he, \"appears in his letter, and after what you tell\nme, I must confess, that his wisdom is worthy of his people, and\nhis people deserve so wise a prince.\" Having spoken thus, he\ndismissed me, and sent me home with a rich present.\n\nSinbad left off, and his company retired, Hindbad having first\nreceived one hundred sequins; and next day they returned to hear\nthe relation of his seventh and last voyage.\n\n\n\n\n                  The Seventh and Last Voyage.\n\n\n\nBeing returned from my sixth voyage, said Sinbad, I absolutely\nlaid aside all thoughts of travelling; for, besides that my age\nnow required rest, I was resolved no more to expose myself to\nsuch risks as I had encountered; so that I thought of nothing but\nto pass the rest of my days in tranquillity. One day as I was\ntreating my friends, one of my servants came and told me that an\nofficer of the caliph's enquired for me. I rose from table, and\nwent to him. \"The caliph,\" he said, \"has sent me to tell you,\nthat he must speak with you.\" I followed the officer to the\npalace, where being presented to the caliph, I saluted him by\nprostrating myself at his feet. \"Sinbad,\" said he to me, \"I stand\nin need of your service; you must carry my answer and present to\nthe king of Serendib. It is but just I should return his\ncivility.\"\n\nThis command of the caliph was to me like a clap of thunder.\n\"Commander of the faithful,\" I replied, \"I am ready to do\nwhatever your majesty shall think fit to command; but I beseech\nyou most humbly to consider what I have undergone. I have also\nmade a vow never to go out of Bagdad.\" Hence I took occasion to\ngive him a full and particular account of all my adventures,\nwhich he had the patience to hear out.\n\nAs soon as I had finished, \"I confess,\" said he, \"that the things\nyou tell me are very extraordinary, yet you must for my sake\nundertake this voyage which I propose to you. You will only have\nto go to the isle of Serendib, and deliver the commission which I\ngive you. After that you are at liberty to return. But you must\ngo; for you know it would not comport with my dignity, to be\nindebted to the king of that island.\" Perceiving that the caliph\ninsisted upon my compliance, I submitted, and told him that I was\nwilling to obey. He was very well pleased, and ordered me one\nthousand sequins for the expences of my journey.\n\nI prepared for my departure in a few days, and as soon as the\ncaliph's letter and present were delivered to me, I went to\nBussorah, where I embarked, and had a very happy voyage. Having\narrived at the isle of Serendib, I acquainted the king's\nministers with my commission, and prayed them to get me speedy\naudience. They did so, and I was conducted to the palace in an\nhonourable manner, where I saluted the king by prostration,\naccording to custom. That prince knew me immediately, and\ntestified very great joy at seeing me. \"Sinbad,\" said he, \"you\nare welcome; I have many times thought of you since you departed;\nI bless the day on which we see one another once more.\" I made my\ncompliment to him, and after having thanked him for his kindness,\ndelivered the caliph's letter and present, which he received with\nall imaginable satisfaction.\n\nThe caliph's present was a complete suit of cloth of gold, valued\nat one thousand sequins; fifty robes of rich stuff, a hundred of\nwhite cloth, the finest of Cairo, Suez, and Alexandria; a vessel\nof agate broader than deep, an inch thick, and half a foot wide,\nthe bottom of which represented in bass relief a man with one\nknee on the ground, who held bow and an arrow, ready to discharge\nat a lion. He sent him also a rich tablet, which, according to\ntradition, belonged to the great Solomon. The caliph's letter was\nas follows:\n\n\"Greeting, in the name of the sovereign guide of the right way,\nfrom the dependent on God, Haroon al Rusheed, whom God hath set\nin the place of vicegerent to his prophet, after his ancestors of\nhappy memory, to the potent and esteemed Raja of Serendib.\n\n\"We received your letter with joy, and send you this from our\nimperial residence, the garden of superior wits. We hope when you\nlook upon it, you will perceive our good intention and be pleased\nwith it. Adieu.\"\n\nThe king of Serendib was highly gratified that the caliph\nanswered his friendship. A little time after this audience, I\nsolicited leave to depart, and had much difficulty to obtain it.\nI procured it however at last, and the king, when he dismissed\nme, made me a very considerable present. I embarked immediately\nto return to Bagdad, but had not the good fortune to arrive there\nso speedily as I had hoped. God ordered it otherwise.\n\nThree or four days after my departure, we were attacked by\ncorsairs, who easily seized upon our ship, because it was no\nvessel of force. Some of the crew offered resistance, which cost\nthem their lives. But for myself and the rest, who were not so\nimprudent, the corsairs saved us on purpose to make slaves of us.\n\nWe were all stripped, and instead of our own clothes, they gave\nus sorry rags, and carried us into a remote island, where they\nsold us.\n\nI fell into the hands of a rich merchant, who, as soon as he\nbought me, carried me to his house, treated me well, and clad me\nhandsomely for a slave. Some days after, not knowing who I was,\nhe asked me if I understood any trade? I answered, that I was no\nmechanic, but a merchant, and that the corsairs, who sold me, had\nrobbed me of all I possessed. \"But tell me,\" replied he, \"can you\nshoot with a bow?\" I answered, that the bow was one of my\nexercises in my youth. He gave me a bow and arrows, and, taking\nme behind him upon an elephant, carried me to a thick forest some\nleagues from the town. We penetrated a great way into the wood,\nand when he thought fit to stop, he bade me alight; then shewing\nme a great tree, \"Climb up that,\" said he, \"and shoot at the\nelephants as you see them pass by, for there is a prodigious\nnumber of them in this forest, and if any of them fall, come and\ngive me notice.\" Having spoken thus, he left me victuals, and\nreturned to the town, and I continued upon the tree all night.\n\nI saw no elephant during that time, but next morning, as soon as\nthe sun was up, I perceived a great number. I shot several arrows\namong them, and at last one of the elephants fell, when the rest\nretired immediately, and left me at liberty to go and acquaint my\npatron with my booty. When I had informed him, he gave me a good\nmeal, commended my dexterity, and caressed me highly. We went\nafterwards together to the forest, where we dug a hole for the\nelephant; my patron designing to return when it was rotten, and\ntake his teeth to trade with.\n\nI continued this employment for two months, and killed an\nelephant every day, getting sometimes upon one tree, and\nsometimes upon another. One morning, as I looked for the\nelephants, I perceived with extreme amazement, that, instead of\npassing by me across the forest as usual, they stopped, and came\nto me with a horrible noise, in such number that the plain was\ncovered, and shook under them. They encompassed the tree in which\nI was concealed, with their trunks extended, and all fixed their\neyes upon. At this alarming spectacle I continued immoveable, and\nwas so much terrified, that my bow and arrows fell out of my\nhand.\n\nMy fears were not without cause; for after the elephants had\nstared upon me some time, one of the largest of them put his\ntrunk round the foot of the tree, plucked it up, and threw it on\nthe ground; I fell with the tree, and the elephant taking me up\nwith his trunk, laid me on his back, where I sat more like one\ndead than alive, with my quiver on my shoulder. He put himself\nafterwards at the head of the rest, who followed him in troops,\ncarried me a considerable way, then laid me down on the ground,\nand retired with all his companions. Conceive, if you can, the\ncondition I was in: I thought myself in a dream. After having\nlain some time, and seeing the elephants gone, I got up, and\nfound I was upon a long and broad hill, almost covered with the\nbones and teeth of elephants. I confess to you, that this object\nfurnished me with abundance of reflections. I admired the\ninstinct of those animals; I doubted not but that was their\nburying place, and that they carried me thither on purpose to\ntell me that I should forbear to persecute them, since I did it\nonly for their teeth. I did not stay on the hill, but turned\ntowards the city, and, after having travelled a day and a night,\nI came to my patron. I met no elephant in my way, which made me\nthink they had retired farther into the forest, to leave me at\nliberty to come back to the hill without any obstacle.\n\nAs soon as my patron saw me; \"Ah, poor Sinbad,\" exclaimed he, \"I\nwas in great trouble to know what was become of you. I have been\nat the forest, where I found a tree newly pulled up, and a bow\nand arrows on the ground, and after having sought for you in\nvain, I despaired of ever, seeing you more. Pray tell me what\nbefell you, and by what good chance thou art still alive.\" I\nsatisfied his curiosity, and going both of us next morning to the\nhill, he found to his great joy that what I had told him was\ntrue. We loaded the elephant which had carried us with as many\nteeth as he could bear; and when we were returned, \"Brother,\"\nsaid my patron, \"for I will treat you no more as my slave, after\nhaving made such a discovery as will enrich me, God bless you\nwith all happiness and prosperity. I declare before him, that I\ngive you your liberty. I concealed from you what I am now going\nto tell you.\n\n\"The elephants of our forest have every year killed us a great\nmany slaves, whom we sent to seek ivory. For all the cautions we\ncould give them, those crafty animals destroyed them one time or\nother. God has delivered you from their fury, and has bestowed\nthat favour upon you only. It is a sign that he loves you, and\nhas some use for your service in the world. You have procured me\nincredible wealth. Formerly we could not procure ivory but by\nexposing the lives of our slaves, and now our whole city is\nenriched by your means. Do not think I pretend to have rewarded\nyou by giving you your liberty, I will also give you considerable\nriches. I could engage all our city to contribute towards making\nyour fortune, but I will have the glory of doing it myself.\"\n\nTo this obliging declaration I replied, \"Patron, God preserve\nyou. Your giving me my liberty is enough to discharge what you\nowe me, and I desire no other reward for the service I had the\ngood fortune to do to you and your city, but leave to return to\nmy own country.\" \"Very well,\" said he, \"the monsoon will in a\nlittle time bring ships for ivory. I will then send you home, and\ngive you wherewith to bear your charges.\" I thanked him again for\nmy liberty and his good intentions towards me. I staid with him\nexpecting the monsoon; and during that time, we made so many\njourneys to the hill, that we filled all our warehouses with\nivory. The other merchants, who traded in it, did the same, for\nit could not be long concealed from them.\n\nThe ships arrived at last, and my patron, himself having made\nchoice of the ship wherein I was to embark, loaded half of it\nwith ivory on my account, laid in provisions in abundance for my\npassage, and besides obliged me to accept a present of some\ncuriosities of the country of great value. After I had returned\nhim a thousand thanks for all his favours, I went aboard. We set\nsail, and as the adventure which procured me this liberty was\nvery extraordinary, I had it continually in my thoughts.\n\nWe stopped at some islands to take in fresh provisions. Our\nvessel being come to a port on the main land in the Indies, we\ntouched there, and not being willing to venture by sea to\nBussorah, I landed my proportion of the ivory, resolving to\nproceed on my journey by land. I made vast sums of my ivory,\nbought several rarities, which I intended for presents, and when\nmy equipage was ready, set out in company with a large caravan of\nmerchants. I was a long time on the way, and suffered much, but\nendured all with patience, when I considered that I had nothing\nto fear from the seas, from pirates, from serpents, or from the\nother perils to which I had been exposed.\n\nAll these fatigues ended at last, and I arrived safe at Bagdad. I\nwent immediately to wait upon the caliph, and gave him an account\nof my embassy. That prince said he had been uneasy, as I was so\nlong in returning, but that he always hoped God would preserve\nme. When I told him the adventure of the elephants, he seemed\nmuch surprised, and would never have given any credit to it had\nhe not known my veracity. He deemed this story, and the other\nrelations I had given him, to be so curious, that he ordered one\nof his secretaries to write them in characters of gold, and lay\nthem up in his treasury. I retired well satisfied with the\nhonours I received, and the presents which he gave me; and ever\nsince I have devoted myself wholly to my family, kindred, and\nfriends.\n\nSinbad here finished the relation of his seventh and last voyage,\nand then addressing himself to Hindbad, \"Well, friend,\" said he,\n\"did you ever hear of any person that suffered so much as I have\ndone, or of any mortal that has gone through so many\nvicissitudes? Is it not reasonable that, after all this I should\nenjoy a quiet and pleasant life?\" As he said this, Hindbad drew\nnear to him, and kissing his hand, said, \"I must acknowledge,\nsir, that you have gone through many imminent dangers; my\ntroubles are not comparable to yours: if they afflict me for a\ntime, I comfort myself with the thoughts of the profit I get by\nthem. You not only deserve a quiet life, but are worthy of all\nthe riches you enjoy, because you make of them such a good and\ngenerous use. May you therefore continue to live in happiness and\njoy till the day of your death!\" Sinbad gave him one hundred\nsequins more, received him into the number of his friends,\ndesired him to quit his porter's employment, and come and dine\nevery day with him, that he might have reason to remember Sinbad\nthe voyager.\n\n\n\n\n                       THE THREE APPLES.\n\n\n\nThe Caliph Haroon al Rusheed one day commanded the grand vizier\nJaffier to come to his palace the night following. \"Vizier,\" said\nhe, \"I will take a walk round the town, to inform myself what\npeople say, and particularly how they are pleased with my\nofficers of justice. If there be any against whom they have cause\nof just complaint, we will turn them out, and put others in their\nstead, who shall officiate better. If, on the contrary, there be\nany that have gained their applause, we will have that esteem for\nthem which they deserve.\" The grand vizier being come to the\npalace at the hour appointed, the caliph, he, and Mesrour the\nchief of the eunuchs, disguised themselves so that they could not\nbe known, and went out all three together.\n\nThey passed through several places, and by several markets. As\nthey entered a small street, they perceived by the light of the\nmoon, a tall man, with a white beard, who carried nets on his\nhead, and a staff in his hand. \"To judge from his appearance,\"\nsaid the caliph, \"that old man is not rich; let us go to him and\ninquire into his circumstances.\" \"Honest man,\" said the vizier,\n\"who art thou?\" The old man replied, \"Sir, I am a fisher, but one\nof the poorest and most miserable of the trade. I went from my\nhouse about noon a fishing, and from that time to this I have not\nbeen able to catch one fish; at the same time I have a wife and\nsmall children, and nothing to maintain them.\"\n\nThe caliph, moved with compassion, said to the fisherman, \"Hast\nthou the courage to go back and cast thy net once more? We will\ngive thee a hundred sequins for what thou shalt bring up.\" At\nthis proposal, the fisherman, forgetting all his day's toil, took\nthe caliph at his word, and returned to the Tigris, accompanied\nby the caliph, Jaaffier, and Mesrour; saying to himself as he\nwent, \"These gentlemen seem too honest and reasonable not to\nreward my pains; and if they give me the hundredth part of what\nthey promise, it will be an ample recompence.\"\n\nThey came to the bank of the river, and the fisherman, having\nthrown in his net, when he drew it again, brought up a trunk\nclose shut, and very heavy. The caliph made the grand vizier pay\nhim one hundred sequins immediately, and sent him away. Mesrour,\nby his master's order, carried the trunk on his shoulder, and the\ncaliph was so very eager to know what it contained, that he\nreturned to the palace with all speed. When the trunk was opened,\nthey found in it a large basket made of palm-leaves, shut up, and\nthe covering of it sewed with red thread. To satisfy the caliph's\nimpatience, they would not take time to undo it, but cut the\nthread with a knife, and took out of the basket a package wrapt\nup in a sorry piece of hanging, and bound about with a rope;\nwhich being untied, they found, to their great amazement, the\ncorpse of a young lady, whiter than snow, all cut in pieces.\n\nThe astonishment of the caliph was great at this dreadful\nspectacle. His surprise was instantly changed into passion, and\ndarting an angry look at the vizier, \"Thou wretch,\" said he, \"is\nthis your inspection into the actions of my people? Do they\ncommit such impious murders under thy ministry in my capital, and\nthrow my subjects into the Tigris, that they may cry for\nvengeance against me at the day of judgment? If thou dost not\nspeedily avenge the murder of this woman, by the death of her\nmurderer, I swear by heaven, that I will cause thee and forty\nmore of thy kindred to be impaled.\" \"Commander of the faithful,\"\nreplied the grand vizier, \"I beg your majesty to grant me time to\nmake enquiry.\" \"I will allow thee no more,\" said the caliph,\n\"than three days.\"\n\nThe vizier Jaaffier went home in great perplexity. \"Alas!\" said\nhe \"how is it possible that in such a vast and populous city as\nBagdad, I should he able to detect a murderer, who undoubtedly\ncommitted the crime without witness, and perhaps may be already\ngone from hence? Any other vizier than I would take some wretched\nperson out of prison, and cause him to be put to death to satisfy\nthe caliph; but I will not burden my conscience with such a\nbarbarous action; I will rather die than preserve my life by the\nsacrifice of another innocent person.\"\n\nHe ordered the officers of the police and justice to make strict\nsearch for the criminal. They sent their servants about, and they\nwere not idle themselves, for they were no less concerned in this\nmatter than the vizier. But all their endeavours were to no\npurpose; what pains soever they took they could not discover the\nmurderer; so that the vizier concluded his life to be lost.\n\nThe third day being arrived, an officer came to the unfortunate\nminister, with a summons to follow him, which the vizier obeyed.\nThe caliph asked him for the murderer. He answered, \"Commander of\nthe faithful, I have not found any person that could give me the\nleast account of him.\" The caliph, full of fury and rage, gave\nhim many reproachful words, and ordered that he and forty\nBermukkees should be impaled at the gate of the palace.\n\nIn the mean while the stakes were preparing, and orders were sent\nto seize forty Bermukkees in their houses; a public crier was\nsent about the city by the caliph's order, to cry thus: \"Those\nwho have a desire to see the grand vizier Jaaffier impaled, with\nforty of his kindred, let them come to the square before the\npalace.\"\n\nWhen all things were ready, the criminal judge, and many officers\nbelonging to the palace, having brought out the grand vizier with\nthe forty Bermukkees, set each by the stake designed for him. The\nmultitude of people that filled the square could not without\ngrief and tears behold this tragical sight; for the grand vizier\nand the Bermukkees were loved and honoured on account of their\nprobity, bounty, and impartiality, not only in Bagdad, but\nthrough all the dominions of the caliph.\n\nNothing could prevent the execution of this prince's severe and\nirrevocable sentence, and the lives of the most deserving people\nin the city were just going to be sacrificed, when a young man of\nhandsome mien pressed through the crowd till he came up to the\ngrand vizier, and after he had kissed his hand, said, \"Most\nexcellent vizier, chief of the emirs of this court, and comforter\nof the poor, you are not guilty of the crime for which you stand\nhere. Withdraw, and let me expiate the death of the lady that was\nthrown into the Tigris. It is I who murdered her, and I deserve\nto be punished for my offence.\"\n\nThough these words occasioned great joy to the vizier, yet he\ncould not but pity the young man, in whose look he saw something\nthat instead of evincing guilt was engaging: but as he was about\nto answer him, a tall man advanced in years, who had likewise\nforced his way through the crowd, came up to him, saying, \"Do not\nbelieve what this young man tells you, I killed that lady who was\nfound in the trunk, and this punishment ought only to fall upon\nme. I conjure you in the name of God not to punish the innocent\nfor the guilty.\" \"Sir,\" said the young man to the vizier, \"I do\nprotest that I am he who committed this vile act, and nobody else\nhad any concern in it.\" \"My son,\" said the old man, \"it is\ndespair that brought you hither, and you would anticipate your\ndestiny. I have lived a long while in the world, and it is time\nfor me to be gone; let me therefore sacrifice my life for yours.\"\n\"Sir,\" said he again to the vizier, \"I tell you once more I am\nthe murderer; let me die without delay.\"\n\nThe controversy between the old and the young man induced the\ngrand vizier to carry them both before the caliph, to which the\njudge criminal consented, being glad to serve the vizier. When he\ncame before the prince, he kissed the ground seven times, and\nspake after this manner: \"Commander of the faithful, I have\nbrought here before your majesty this old and this young man,\neach of whom declares himself to be the sole murderer of the\nlady.\" The caliph asked the criminals which of them it was that\nso cruelly murdered the lady, and threw her into the Tigris? The\nyoung man assured him it was he, but the old man maintained the\ncontrary. \"Go,\" said the caliph to the grand vizier, \"and cause\nthem both to be impaled.\" \"But, Sir,\" said the vizier, \"if only\none of them be guilty, it would be unjust to take the lives of\nboth.\" At these words the young man spoke again, \"I swear by the\ngreat God, who has raised the heavens so high, that I am the man\nwho killed the lady, cut her in pieces, and about four days ago\nthrew her into the Tigris. I renounce my part of happiness\namongst the just at the day of judgment, if what I say be not\ntruth; therefore I am he that ought to suffer.\" The caliph being\nsurprised at this oath, believed him; especially since the old\nman made no answer. Whereupon, turning to the young man,\n\"Wretch,\" said he, \"what made thee commit that detestable crime,\nand what is it that moves thee to offer thyself voluntarily to\ndie?\" \"Commander of the faithful,\" said he, \"if all that has past\nbetween that lady and me were set down in writing, it would be a\nhistory that might be useful to other men.\" \"I command thee then\nto relate it,\" said the caliph. The young man obeyed, and began\nhis history.\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of the Lady who was Murdered, and of the Young Man her\n                            Husband.\n\n\n\nCommander of the faithful, this murdered lady was my wife,\ndaughter of this old man, who is my uncle by the father's side.\nShe was not above twelve years old, when eleven years ago he gave\nher to me. I have three children by her, all boys, yet alive, and\nI must do her the justice to say, that she never gave me the\nleast occasion for offence; she was chaste, of good behaviour,\nand made it her whole business to please me. And on my part I\nardently loved her, and in every thing rather anticipated than\nopposed her wishes.\n\nAbout two months ago she fell sick; I took all imaginable care of\nher, and spared nothing that could promote her speedy recovery.\nAfter a month thus passed she began to grow better, and expressed\na wish to go to the bath. Before she went, \"Cousin,\" said she\n(for so she used to call me out of familiarity), \"I long for some\napples; if you would get me any, you would greatly please me. I\nhave longed for them a great while, and I must own it is come to\nthat height, that if I be not satisfied very soon, I fear some\nmisfortune will befall me.\" \"I will cheerfully try,\" said I, \"and\ndo all in my power to make you easy.\"\n\nI went immediately round all the markets and shops in the town to\nseek for apples, but I could not get one, though I offered to pay\na sequin a piece. I returned home much dissatisfied at my\nfailure; and for my wife, when she returned from the bagnio, and\nsaw no apples, she became so very uneasy, that she could not\nsleep all night. I got up by times in the morning, and went\nthrough all the gardens, but had no better success than the day\nbefore; only I happened to meet an old gardener, who told me,\nthat all my pains would signify nothing, for I could not expect\nto find apples any where but in your majesty's garden at\nBussorah. As I loved my wife passionately, and would not neglect\nto satisfy her, I dressed myself in a traveller's habit, and\nafter I had told her my design, went to Bussorah, and made my\njourney with such speed, that I returned at the end of fifteen\ndays with three apples, which cost me a sequin apiece, for as\nthere were no more left, the gardener would not let me have them\nfor less. As soon as I came home, I presented them to my wife,\nbut her longing had ceased, she satisfied herself with receiving\nthem, and laid them down by her. In the mean time she continued\nsickly, and I knew not what remedy to procure for her relief.\n\nSome few days after I returned from my journey, sitting in my\nshop in the public place where all sorts of fine stuffs are sold,\nI saw an ugly, tall, black slave come in, with an apple in his\nhand, which I knew to be one of those I had brought from\nBussorah. I had no reason to doubt it, because I was certain\nthere was not one to be had in Bagdad, nor in any of the gardens\nin the vicinity. I called to him, and said, \"Good slave, pr'ythee\ntell me where thou hadst this apple?\" \"It is a present\" (said he,\nsmiling) \"from my mistress. I went to see her to-day, and found\nher out of order. I saw three apples lying by her, and asked her\nwhere she had them. She told me the good man, her husband, had\nmade a fortnight's journey on purpose, and brought them to her.\nWe had a collation together; and, when I took my leave of her, I\nbrought away this apple.\"\n\nThis account rendered me distracted. I rose, shut up my shop, ran\nhome with all speed, and going to my wife's chamber, looked\nimmediately for the apples, and seeing only two, asked what was\nbecome of the third. My wife, turning her head to the place where\nthe apples lay, and perceiving there were but two, answered me\ncoldly, \"Cousin, I know not what is become of it.\" At this reply\nI was convinced what the slave had told me was true; and giving\nmyself up to madness and jealousy, drew my knife from my girdle,\nand thrust it into the unfortunate creature's throat. I\nafterwards cut off her head, and divided her body into four\nquarters, which I packed up in a bundle, sewed it up with a\nthread of red yarn, put all together in a trunk, and when night\ncame, carried it on my shoulder down to the Tigris, where I sunk\nit.\n\nThe two youngest of my children were asleep, the third was out;\nbut at my return, I found him sitting by my gate, weeping. I\nasked him the reason; \"Father,\" said he, \"I took this morning\nfrom my mother, without her knowledge, one of those three apples\nyou brought her, and kept it a long while; but, as I was playing\nsome time ago with my little brother in the street, a tall slave\npassing by snatched it out of my hands, and carried it away. I\nran after him, demanding it back, and besides told him, that it\nbelonged to my mother, who was sick; and that you had made a\nfortnight's journey to procure it; but all to no purpose, he\nwould not restore it. And as I still followed him, crying out, he\nturned and beat me, and then ran away as fast as he could from\none lane to another, till at length I lost sight of him. I have\nsince been walking without the town expecting your return, to\npray you, dear father, not to tell my mother of it, lest it\nshould make her worse!\" When he had thus spoken he fell a weeping\nagain more bitterly than before.\n\nMy son's account afflicted me beyond measure. I then found myself\nguilty of an enormous crime, and repented too late of having so\neasily believed the calumnies of a wretched slave, who, from what\nhe had learnt of my son, had invented that fatal falsehood.\n\nMy uncle here present came just at that time to see his daughter,\nbut instead of finding her alive, understood from me that she was\ndead, for I concealed nothing from him; and without staying for\nhis censure, declared myself the greatest criminal in the world.\n\nUpon this, instead of reproaching me, he joined his tears with\nmine, and we together wept three days without intermission, he\nfor the loss of a daughter whom he had loved tenderly; and I for\nthe loss of a beloved wife, of whom I had deprived myself in so\ncruel a manner by giving too easy credit to the report of a lying\nslave.\n\nThis, commander of the faithful, is the sincere confession your\nmajesty required from me. You have now heard all the\ncircumstances of my crime, and I must humbly beg of you to order\nthe punishment due for it; how severe soever it may be, I shall\nnot in the least complain, but esteem it too easy and light.\n\nThe caliph was much astonished at the young man's relation. But\nthis just prince, finding he was rather to be pitied than\ncondemned, began to speak in his favour: \"This young man's\ncrime,\" said he, \"is pardonable before God, and excusable with\nmen. The wicked slave is the sole cause of this murder; it is he\nalone that must be punished: wherefore,\" continued he, looking\nupon the grand vizier, \"I give you three days' time to find him\nout; if you do not bring him within that space, you shall die in\nhis stead.\" The unfortunate Jaaffier, had thought himself out of\ndanger, was perplexed at this order of the caliph; but as he\ndurst not return any answer to the prince, whose hasty temper he\nknew too well, he departed from his presence, and retired\nmelancholy to his house, convinced that he had but three days to\nlive; for he was so fully persuaded that he should not find the\nslave, that he made not the least enquiry after him. \"Is it\npossible,\" said he, \"that in such a city as Bagdad, where there\nis an infinite number of negro slaves, I should be able to find\nhim out that is guilty? Unless God be pleased to interpose as he\nhath already to detest the murderer, nothing can save my life.\"\n\nHe spent the first two days in mourning with his family, who sat\nround him weeping and complaining of the caliph's cruelty. The\nthird day being arrived, he prepared himself to die with courage,\nas an honest minister, and one who had nothing to trouble his\nconscience; he sent for notaries and witnesses' who signed his\nwill. After which he took leave of his wife and children, and\nbade them farewell. All his family were drowned in tears, so that\nthere never was a more sorrowful spectacle. At last a messenger\ncame from the caliph to tell him that he was out of all patience,\nhaving heard nothing from him concerning the negro slave whom he\nhad commanded him to search for; \"I am therefore ordered,\" said\nthe messenger, \"to bring you before his throne.\" The afflicted\nvizier, obeyed the mandate, but as he was going out, they brought\nhim his youngest daughter, about five or six years of age, to\nreceive his last blessing.\n\nAs he had a particular affection for that child, he prayed the\nmessenger to give him leave to stop a moment, and taking his\ndaughter in his arms, kissed her several times: as he kissed her,\nhe perceived she had something in her bosom that looked bulky,\nand had a sweet scent. \"My dear little one,\" said he, \"what hast\nthou in thy bosom?\" \"My dear father,\" she replied, \"it is an\napple which our slave Rihan sold me for two sequins.\"\n\nAt these words apple and slave, the grand vizier, uttered an\nexclamation of surprise, intermixed with joy, and putting his\nhand into the child's bosom, pulled out the apple. He caused the\nslave, who was not far off, to be brought immediately, and when\nhe came, \"Rascal,\" said he, \"where hadst thou this apple?\" \"My\nlord,\" replied the slave, \"I swear to you that I neither stole it\nin your house, nor out of the commander of the faithful's garden;\nbut the other day, as I was passing through a street where three\nor four children were at play, one of them having it in his hand,\nI snatched it from him, and carried it away. The child ran after\nme, telling me it was not his own, but belonged mother, who was\nsick; and that his father, to satisfy her longing, had made a\nlong journey, and brought home three apples, whereof this was\none, which he had taken from his mother without her knowledge. He\nsaid all he could to prevail upon me to give it him back, but I\nrefused, and so brought it home, and sold it for two sequins to\nthe little lady your daughter.\"\n\nJaaffier could not reflect without astonishment that the\nmischievousness of a slave had been the cause of an innocent\nwoman's death, and nearly of his own. He carried the slave along\nwith him, and when he came before the caliph, gave the prince an\nexact account of what the slave had told him, and the chance\nwhich led him to the discovery of his crime.\n\nNever was any surprise so great as that of the caliph, yet he\ncould not refrain from falling into excessive fits of laughter.\nAt last he recovered himself, and with a serious air told the\nvizier, that since his slave had been the occasion of murder, he\ndeserved an exemplary punishment. \"I must own it,\" said the\nvizier, \"but his guilt is not unpardonable: I remember the\nwonderful history of a vizier, of Cairo, and am ready to relate\nit, upon condition that if your majesty finds it more astonishing\nthan that which gives me occasion to tell it, you will be pleased\nto pardon my slave.\" \"I consent,\" said the caliph; \"but you\nundertake a hard task, for I do not believe you can save your\nslave, the story of the apples being so very singular.\" Upon\nthis, Jaaffier began his story thus:\n\n\n\n\n   The Story of Noor ad Deen Ali and Buddir ad Deen Houssun.\n\n\n\nCommander of the faithful, there was formerly a sultan of Egypt,\na strict observer of justice, gracious, merciful, and liberal,\nand his valour made him terrible to his neighbours. He loved the\npoor, and protected the learned, whom he advanced to the highest\ndignities. This sultan had a vizier, who was prudent, wise,\nsagacious, and well versed in all sciences. This minister had two\nsons, who in every thing followed his footsteps. The eldest was\ncalled Shumse ad Deen Mahummud, and the younger Noor ad Deen Ali.\nThe latter was endowed with all the good qualities that man could\npossess.\n\nThe vizier their father being dead, the sultan caused them both\nto put on the robes of a vizier, \"I am as sorry,\" said he, \"as\nyou are for the loss of your father; and because I know you live\ntogether, and love one another cordially, I will bestow his\ndignity upon you conjointly; go, and imitate your father's\nconduct.\"\n\nThe two new viziers humbly thanked the sultan, and retired to\nmake due preparation for their father's interment. They did not\ngo abroad for a month, after which they repaired to court, and\nattended their duties. When the sultan hunted, one of the\nbrothers accompanied him, and this honour they had by turns. One\nevening as they were conversing together after a cheerful meal,\nthe next day being the elder brother's turn to hunt with the\nsultan, he said to his younger brother, \"Since neither of us is\nyet married, and we live so affectionately together, let us both\nwed the same day sisters out of some family that may suit our\nquality. What do you think of this plan?\" \"Brother,\" answered the\nother vizier, \"there cannot be a better thought; for my part, I\nwill agree to any thing you approve.\" \"But this is not all,\" said\nthe elder; \"my fancy carries me farther: Suppose both our wives\nshould conceive the first night of our marriage, and should\nhappen to be brought to bed on one day, yours of a son, and mine\nof a daughter, we will give them to each other in marriage.\"\n\"Nay,\" said Noor ad Deen aloud, \"I must acknowledge that this\nprospect is admirable; such a marriage will perfect our union,\nand I willingly consent to it. But then, brother,\" said he\nfarther, \"if this marriage should happen, would you expect that\nmy son should settle a jointure on your daughter?\" \"There is no\ndifficulty in that,\" replied the other; \"for I am persuaded, that\nbesides the usual articles of the marriage contract, you will not\nfail to promise in his name at least three thousand sequins,\nthree landed estates, and three slaves.\" \"No,\" said the younger\n\"I will not consent to that; are we not brethren, and equal in\ntitle and dignity? Do not you and I know what is just? The male\nbeing nobler than the female, it is your part to give a large\ndowry with your daughter. By what I perceive, you are a man that\nwould have your business done at another's charge.\"\n\nAlthough Noor ad Deen spoke these words in jest, his brother\nbeing of a hasty temper, was offended, and falling into a passion\nsaid, \"A mischief upon your son, since you prefer him before my\ndaughter. I wonder you had so much confidence as to believe him\nworthy of her; you must needs have lost your judgment to think\nyou are my equal, and say we are colleagues. I would have you to\nknow, that since you are so vain, I would not marry my daughter\nto your son though you would give him more than you are worth.\"\nThis pleasant quarrel between two brothers about the marriage of\ntheir children before they were born went so far, that Shumse ad\nDeen concluded by threatening: \"Were I not to-morrow,\" said he,\n\"to attend the sultan, I would treat you as you deserve; but at\nmy return, I will make you sensible that it does not become a\nyounger brother to speak so insolently to his elder as you have\ndone to me.\" Upon this he retired to his apartment in anger.\n\nShumse ad Deen rising early next morning, attended the sultan,\nwho went to hunt near the pyramids. As for Noor ad Deen, he was\nvery uneasy all night, and supposing it would not be possible to\nlive longer with a brother who had treated him with so much\nhaughtiness, he provided a stout mule, furnished himself with\nmoney and jewels, and having told his people that he was going on\na private journey for two or three days, departed.\n\nWhen out of Cairo, he rode by way of the desert towards Arabia;\nbut his mule happening to tire, was forced to continue his\njourney on foot. A courier who was going to Bussorah, by good\nfortune overtaking him, took him up behind him. As soon as the\ncourier reached that city, Noor ad Deen alighted, and returned\nhim thanks for his kindness. As he went about to seek for a\nlodging, he saw a person of quality with a numerous retinue, to\nwhom all the people shewed the greatest respect, and stood still\ntill he had passed. This personage was grand vizier, to the\nsultan of Bussorah, who was passing through the city to see that\nthe inhabitants kept good order and discipline.\n\nThis minister casting his eyes by chance on Noor ad Deen Ali,\nperceiving something extraordinary in his aspect, looked very\nattentively upon him, and as he saw him in a traveller's habit,\nstopped his train, asked him who he was, and from whence he came?\n\"Sir,\" said Noor ad Deen, \"I am an Egyptian, born at Cairo, and\nhave left my country, because of the unkindness of a near\nrelation, resolved to travel through the world, and rather to die\nthan return home.\" The grand vizier, who was a good-natured man,\nafter hearing these words, said to him, \"Son, beware; do not\npursue your design; you are not sensible of the hardships you\nmust endure. Follow me; I may perhaps make you forget the\nmisfortunes which have forced you to leave your own country.\"\n\nNoor ad Deen followed the grand vizier, who soon discovered his\ngood qualities, and conceived for him so great an affection, that\none day he said to him in private, \"My son, I am, as you see, so\nfar gone in years, that it is not probable I shall live much\nlonger. Heaven has bestowed on me only one daughter, who is as\nbeautiful as you are handsome, and now fit for marriage. Several\nnobles of the highest rank at this court have sought her for\ntheir sons, but I would not grant their request. I have an\naffection for you, and think you so worthy to be received into my\nfamily, that, preferring you before all those who have demanded\nher, I am ready to accept you for my son-in-law. If you like the\nproposal, I will acquaint the sultan my master that I have\nadopted you by this marriage, and intreat him to grant you the\nreversion of my dignity of grand vizier in the kingdom of\nBussorah. In the mean time, nothing being more requisite for me\nthan ease in my old age, I will not only put you in possession of\ngreat part of my estate, but leave the administration of public\naffairs to your management.\"\n\nWhen the grand vizier had concluded this kind and generous\nproposal, Noor ad Deen fell at his feet, and expressing himself\nin terms that demonstrated his joy and gratitude, assured him,\nthat he was at his command in every way. Upon this the vizier\nsent for his chief domestics, ordered them to adorn the great\nhall of his palace, and prepare a splendid feast. He afterwards\nsent to invite the nobility of the court and city, to honour him\nwith their company; and when they were all met (Noor ad Deen\nhaving made known his quality), he said to the noblemen present,\nfor he thought it proper to speak thus on purpose to satisfy\nthose to whom he had refused his alliance, \"I am now, my lords,\nto discover a circumstance which hitherto I have keep a secret. I\nhave a brother, who is grand vizier to the sultan of Egypt. This\nbrother has but one son, whom he would not marry in the court of\nEgypt, but sent him hither to wed my daughter in order that both\nbranches of our family may be united. His son, whom I knew to be\nmy nephew as soon as I saw him, is the young man I now present to\nyou as my son-in-law. I hope you will do me the honour to be\npresent at his wedding, which I am resolved to celebrate this\nday.\" The noblemen, who could not be offended at his preferring\nhis nephew to the great matches that had been proposed, allowed\nthat he had very good reason for his choice, were willing to be\nwitnesses to the ceremony, and wished that God might prolong his\ndays to enjoy the satisfaction of the happy match.\n\nThe lords met at the vizier of Bussorah's palace, having\ntestified their satisfaction at the marriage of his daughter with\nNoor ad Deen Ali, sat down to a magnificent repast, after which,\nnotaries came in with the marriage contrast, and the chief lords\nsigned it; and when the company had departed, the grand vizier\nordered his servants to have every thing in readiness for Noor ad\nDeen Ali, to bathe. He had fine new linen, and rich vestments\nprovided for him in the greatest profusion. Having bathed and\ndressed, he was perfumed with the most odoriferous essences, and\nwent to compliment the vizier, his father-in-law, who was\nexceedingly pleased with his noble demeanour. Having made him sit\ndown, \"My son,\" said he, \"you have declared to me who you are,\nand the office you held at the court of Egypt. You have also told\nme of a difference betwixt you and your brother, which occasioned\nyou to leave your country. I desire you to make me your entire\nconfidant, and to acquaint me with the cause of your quarrel; for\nnow you have no reason either to doubt my affection, or to\nconceal any thing from me.\"\n\nNoor ad Deen informed him of every circumstance of the quarrel;\nat which the vizier, burst out into a fit of laughter, and said,\n\"This is one of the strangest occurrences I ever heard. Is it\npossible, my son, that your quarrel should rise so high about an\nimaginary marriage? I am sorry you fell out with your elder\nbrother upon such a frivolous matter; but he was also wrong in\nbeing angry at what you only spoke in jest, and I ought to thank\nheaven for that difference which has procured me such a son-in-\nlaw. But,\" continued the vizier, \"it is late, and time for you to\nretire; go to your bride, my son, she expects you: to-morrow, I\nwill present you to the sultan, and hope he will receive you in\nsuch a manner as shall satisfy us both.\" Noor ad Deen Ali took\nleave of his father-in-law, and retired to his bridal apartment.\n\nIt is remarkable that Shumse ad Deen Mahummud happened also to\nmarry at Cairo the very same day that this marriage was\nsolemnized at Bussorah, the particulars of which are as follow:\n\nAfter Noor ad Deen Ali left Cairo, with an intention never to\nreturn, his elder brother, who was hunting with the sultan of\nEgypt, was absent for a month; for the sultan being fond of the\nchase, continued it often for so long a period. At his return,\nShumse ad Deen was much surprised when he understood, that under\npresence of taking a short journey his brother departed from\nCairo on a mule the same day as the sultan, and had never\nappeared since. It vexed him so much the more, because he did not\ndoubt but the harsh words he had used had occasioned his flight.\nHe sent a messenger in search of him, who went to Damascus, and\nas far as Aleppo, but Noor ad Deen was then at Bussorah. When the\ncourier returned and brought no news of him, Shumse ad Deen\nintended to make further inquiry after him in other parts; but in\nthe meantime matched with the daughter of one of the greatest\nlords in Cairo, upon the same day in which his brother married\nthe daughter of the grand vizier, of Bussorah.\n\nAt the end of nine months the wife of Shumse ad Deen was brought\nto bed of a daughter at Cairo, and on the same day the lady of\nNoor ad Deen was delivered of a son at Bussorah, who was called\nBuddir ad Deen Houssun.\n\nThe grand vizier, of Bussorah testified his joy for the birth of\nhis grandson by gifts and public entertainments. And to shew his\nson-in-law the great esteem he had for him, he went to the\npalace, and most humbly besought the sultan to grant Noor ad Deen\nAli his office, that he might have the comfort before his death\nto see his son in-law made grand vizier, in his stead.\n\nThe sultan, who had conceived a distinguished regard for Noor ad\nDeen when the vizier, had presensed him upon his marriage, and\nhad ever since heard every body speak well of him, readily\ngranted his father-in-law's request, and caused Noor ad Deen\nimmediately to be invested with the robe and insignia of the\nvizarut, such as state drums, standards, and writing apparatus of\ngold richly enamelled and set with jewels.\n\nThe next day, when the father saw his son-in-law preside in\ncouncil, as he himself had done, and perform all the offices of\ngrand vizier, his joy was complete. Noor ad Deen Ali conducted\nhimself with that dignity and propriety which shewed him to have\nbeen used to state affairs, and engaged the approbation of the\nsultan, and reverence and affection of the people.\n\nThe old vizier of Bussorah died about four years afterwards with\ngreat satisfaction, seeing a. branch of his family that promised\nso fair to support its future consequence and respectability.\n\nNoor ad Deen Ali, performed his last duty to him with all\npossible love and gratitude. And as soon as his son Buddir ad\nDeen Houssun had attained the age of seven years, provided him an\nexcellent tutor, who taught him such things as became his birth.\nThe child had a ready wit, and a genius capable of receiving all\nthe good instructions that could be given.\n\nAfter Buddir ad Deen had been two years under the tuition of his\nmaster, who taught him perfectly to read, he learnt the Koran by\nheart. His father put him afterwards to other tutors, by whom his\nmind was cultivated to such a degree, that when he was twelve\nyears of age he had no more occasion for them. And then, as his\nphysiognomy promised wonders, he was admired by all who saw him.\n\nHitherto his father had kept him to study, but now he introduced\nhim to the sultan, who received him graciously. The people who\nsaw him in the streets were charmed with his demeanour, and gave\nhim a thousand blessings.\n\nHis father proposing to render him capable of supplying his\nplace, accustomed him to business of the greatest moment, on\npurpose to qualify him betimes. In short, he omitted nothing to\nadvance a son he loved so well. But as he began to enjoy the\nfruits of his labour, he was suddenly seized by a violent fit of\nsickness; and finding himself past recovery, disposed himself to\ndie a good Mussulmaun.\n\nIn that last and precious moment he forgot not his son, but\ncalled for him, and said, \"My son, you see this world is\ntransitory; there is nothing durable but in that to which I shall\nspeedily go. You must therefore from henceforth begin to fit\nyourself for this change, as I have done; you must prepare for it\nwithout murmuring, so as to have no trouble of conscience for not\nhaving acted the part of a really honest man. As for your\nreligion, you are sufficiently instructed in it, by what you have\nlearnt from your tutors, and your own study; and as to what\nbelongs to an upright man, I shall give you some instructions, of\nwhich I hope you will make good use. As it is a necessary thing\nto know one's self, and you cannot come to that knowledge without\nyou first understand who I am, I shall now inform you.\n\n\"I am a native of Egypt; my father, your grandfather, was first\nminister to the sultan of that kingdom. I had myself the honour\nto be vizier, to that sultan, and so has my brother, your uncle,\nwho I suppose is yet alive; his name is Shumse ad Deen Mahummud.\nI was obliged to leave him, and come into this country, where I\nhave raised myself to the high dignity I now enjoy. But you will\nunderstand all these matters more fully by a manuscript that I\nshall give you.\"\n\nAt the same time, Noor ad Deen Ali gave to his son a memorandum\nbook, saying, \"Take and read it at your leisure; you will find,\namong other things, the day of my marriage, and that of your\nbirth. These are circumstances which perhaps you may hereafter\nhave occasion to know, therefore you must keep it very\ncarefully.\"\n\nBuddir ad Deen Houssun being sincerely afflicted to see his\nfather in this condition, and sensibly touched with his\ndiscourse, could not but weep when he received the memorandum\nbook, and promised at the same time never to part with it.\n\nThat very moment Noor ad Deen fainted, so that it was thought he\nwould have expired; but he came to himself again, and spoke as\nfollows:\n\n\"My son, the first instruction I give you, is, Not to make\nyourself familiar with all sorts of people. The way to live happy\nis to keep your mind to yourself, and not to tell your thoughts\ntoo easily.\n\n\"Secondly, Not to do violence to any body whatever, for in that\ncase you will draw every body's hatred upon you. You ought to\nconsider the world as a creditor, to whom you owe moderation,\ncompassion, and forbearance.\n\n\"Thirdly, Not to say a word when you are reproached; for, as the\nproverb says, \u0091He that keeps silence is out of danger.' And in\nthis case particularly you ought to practice it. You also know\nwhat one of our poets says upon this subject, \u0091That silence is\nthe ornament and safe-guard of life'; That our speech ought not\nto be like a storm of hail that spoils all. Never did any man yet\nrepent of having spoken too little, whereas many have been sorry\nthat they spoke so much.\n\n\"Fourthly, To drink no wine, for that is the source of all vices.\n\n\" Fifthly, To be frugal in your way of living; if you do not\nsquander your estate, it will maintain you in time of necessity.\nI do not mean you should be either profuse or niggardly; for\nthough you have little, if you husband it well, and lay it out on\nproper occasions, you will have many friends; but if on the\ncontrary you have great riches, and make but a bad use of them,\nall the world will forsake you, and leave you to yourself.\n\nIn short, the virtuous Noor ad Deen continued till the last\naspiration of his breath to give good advice to his son; and when\nhe was dead he was magnificently interred.\n\nNoor ad Deen was buried with all the honours due to his rank.\nBuddir ad Deen Houssun of Bussorah, for so he was called, because\nborn in that city, was with grief for the death of his father,\nthat instead of a month's time to mourn, according to custom, he\nkept himself shut up in tears and solitude about two months,\nwithout seeing any body, or so much as going abroad to pay his\nduty to his sovereign. The sultan being displeased at his\nneglect, and looking upon it as a alight, suffered his passion to\nprevail, and in his anger, called for the new grand vizier, (for\nhe had created another on the death of Noor ad Deen), commanded\nhim to go to the house of the deceased, and seize upon it, with\nall his other houses, lands, and effects, without leaving any\nthing for Buddir ad Deen Houssun, and to confine his person.\n\nThe new grand vizier, accompanied by his officers, went\nimmediately to execute his commission. But one of Buddir ad Deen\nHoussun's slaves happening accidentally to come into the crowd,\nno sooner understood the vizier's errand, than he ran before to\ngive his master warning. He found him sitting in the vestibule of\nhis house, as melancholy as if his father had been but newly\ndead. He fell down at his feet out of breath, and alter he had\nkissed the hem of his garment, cried out, \"My lord, save yourself\nimmediately.\" The unfortunate youth lifting up his head,\nexclaimed, \"What news dost thou bring?\" \"My lord,\" said he,\n\"there is no time to be lost; the sultan is incensed against you,\nhas sent to confiscate your estates, and to seize your person.\"\n\nThe words of this faithful and affectionate slave occasioned\nBuddir ad Deen Houssun great alarm. \"May not I have so much\ntime,\" said he, \"as to take some money and jewels along with me?\"\n``No, Sir,\" replied the slave, \"the grand vizier, will be here\nthis moment; be gone immediately, save yourself.\" The unhappy\nyouth rose hastily from his sofa, put his feet in his sandals,\nand after he had covered his head with the skirt of his vest,\nthat his face might not be known, fled, without knowing what way\nto go, to avoid the impending danger.\n\nHe ran without stopping till he came to the public burying-\nground, and as it was growing dark, resolved to pass that night\nin his father's tomb. It was a large edifice, covered by a dome,\nwhich Noor ad Deen Ali, as is common with the Mussulmauns, had\nerected for his sepulture. On the way Buddir ad Deen met a Jew,\nwho was a banker and merchant, and was returning from a place\nwhere his affairs had called him, to the city.\n\nThe Jew, knowing Buddir ad Deen, stopped, and saluted him very\ncourteously.\n\nIsaac the Jew, after he had paid his respects to Buddir ad Deen\nHoussun, by kissing his hand, said, \"My lord, dare I be so bold\nas to ask whither you are going at this time of night alone, and\nso much troubled? Has any thing disquieted you?\" \"Yes,\" said\nBuddir ad Deen, \"a while ago I was asleep, and my father appeared\nto me in a dream, looking very fiercely upon me, as if much\ndispleased. I started out of my sleep in alarm, and came out\nimmediately to go and pray upon his tomb.\"\n\n\"My lord,\" said the Jew (who did not know the true reason why\nBuddir ad Deen had left the town), \"your father of happy memory,\nand my good lord, had store of merchandize in several vessels,\nwhich are yet at sea, and belong to you; I beg the favour of you\nto grant me the refusal of them before any other merchant. I am\nable to pay down ready money for all the goods that are in your\nships: and to begin, if you will give me those that happen to\ncome in the first that arrives in safety, I will pay you down in\npart of payment a thousand sequins,\" and drawing out a bag from\nunder his vest, he shewed it him sealed up with one seal.\n\nBuddir ad Deen Houssun being banished from home, and dispossessed\nof all that he had in the world, looked on this proposal of the\nJew as a favour from heaven, and therefore accepted it with joy.\n\"My lord,\" said the Jew, \"then you sell me for a thousand sequins\nthe lading of the first of your ships that shall arrive in port?\"\n\"Yes,\" answered Buddir ad Deen, \"I sell it to you for a thousand\nsequins; it is done.\" Upon this the Jew delivered him the bag of\na thousand sequins, and offered to count them, but Buddir ad Deen\nsaid he would trust his word. \"Since it is so, my lord,\" said he,\n\"be pleased to favour me with a small note of the bargain we have\nmade.\" As he spoke, he pulled the inkhorn from his girdle, and\ntaking a small reed out of it neatly cut for writing, presented\nit to him with a piece of paper. Buddir ad Deen Houssun wrote\nthese words:\n\n\"This writing is to testify, that Buddir ad Deen Houssun of\nBussorah, has sold to Isaac the Jew, for the sum of one thousand\nsequins, received in hand, the lading of the first of his ships\nthat shall arrive in this port.\"\n\nThis note he delivered to the Jew, after having stamped it with\nhis seal, and then took his leave of him.\n\nWhile Isaac pursued his journey to the city, Buddir ad Deen made\nthe best of his way to his father's tomb. When he came to it, he\nprostrated himself to the ground, and, with his eyes full of\ntears, deplored his miserable condition. \"Alas!\" said he,\n\"unfortunate Buddir ad Deen, what will become of thee? Whither\ncanst thou fly for refuge against the unjust prince who\npersecutes thee? Was it not enough to be afflicted by the death\nof so dear a father? Must fortune needs add new misfortunes to\njust complaints?\" He continued a long time in this posture, but\nat last rose up, and leaning his head upon his father's\ntombstone, his sorrows returned more violently than before; so\nthat he sighed and mourned, till, overcome with heaviness, he\nsunk upon the floor, and drops asleep.\n\nHe had not slept long, when a genie, who had retired to the\ncemetery during the day, and was intending, according to his\ncustom, to range about the world at night, entered the sepulchre,\nand finding Buddir ad Deen lying on his back, was surprised at\nhis beauty.\n\nWhen the genie had attentively considered Buddir ad Deen Houssun,\nhe said to himself, \"To judge of this creature by his beauty, he\nwould seem to be an angel of the terrestrial paradise, whom God\nhas sent to put the world in a flame by his charms.\" At last,\nafter he had satisfied himself with looking at him, he tool; a\nflight into the air, where meeting by chance with a perie, they\nsaluted one another; after which he said to her, \"Pray descend\nwith me into the cemetery, where I dwell, and I will shew you a\nbeauty worthy your admiration.\" The perie consented, and both\ndescended in an instant; they came into the tomb. \"Look,\" said\nthe genie, shewing her Buddir ad Deen Houssun, \"did you ever see\na youth more beautiful?\"\n\nThe perie having attentively observed Buddir ad Deen, replied, \"I\nmust confess that he is a very handsome man, but I am just come\nfrom seeing an objets at Cairo, more admirable than this; and if\nyou will hear me, I will relate her unhappy fate.\" \"You will very\nmuch oblige me,\" answered the genie. \"You must know then,\" said\nthe perie, \"that the sultan of Egypt has a vizier, Shumse ad Deen\nMahummud, who has a daughter most beautiful and accomplished. The\nsultan having heard of this young lady's beauty, sent the other\nday for her father, and said, \u0091I understand you have a daughter\nto marry; I would have her for my bride: will not you consent?'\nThe vizier, who did not expect this proposal, was troubled, and\ninstead of accepting it joyfully, which another in his place\nwould certainly have done, he answered the sultan: \u0091May it please\nyour majesty, I am not worthy of the honour you would confer upon\nme, and I most humbly beseech you to pardon me, if I do not\naccede to your request. You know I had a brother, who had the\nhonour, as well as myself, to be one of your viziers: we had some\ndifference together, which was the cause of his leaving me\nsuddenly. Since that time I have had no account of him till\nwithin these four days, that I heard he died at Bussorah, being\ngrand vizier to the sultan of that kingdom.\n\n\"\u0091He has left a son, and there having been an agreement between\nus to match our children together, I am persuaded he intended\nthat match when he died; and being desirous to fulfil the promise\non my part, I conjure your majesty to grant me permission.'\n\n\"The sultan of Egypt, provoked at this denial of his vizier said\nto him in anger which he could not restrain: \u0091Is this the way in\nwhich you requite my condescension in stooping so low as to\ndesire your alliance? I know how to revenge your presumption in\ndaring to prefer another to me, and I swear that your daughter\nshall be married to the most contemptible and ugly of my slaves.'\nHaving thus spoken, he angrily commanded the vizier to quit his\npresence. The vizier retired to his palace full of confusion, and\noverwhelmed in despair.\n\n\"This very day the sultan sent for one of his grooms, who is\nhump-backed, big-bellied, crook legged, and as ugly as a\nhobgoblin; and after having commanded the vizier to marry his\ndaughter to this ghastly slave, he caused the contract to be made\nand signed by witnesses in his own presence. The preparations for\nthis fantastical wedding are all ready, and this very moment all\nthe slaves belonging to the lords of the court of Egypt are\nwaiting at the door of a bath, each with a flambeau in his hand,\nfor the crook-back groom, who is bathing, to go along with them\nto his bride, who is already dressed to receive him; and when I\ndeparted from Cairo, the ladies met for that purpose were going\nto conduct her in her nuptial attire to the hall, where she is to\nreceive her hump-backed bridegroom, and is this minute expecting\nhim. I have seen her, and do assure you, that no person can\nbehold her without admiration.\"\n\nWhen the perie left off speaking, the genie said to her,\n\"Whatever you think or say, I cannot be persuaded that the girl's\nbeauty exceeds that of this young man.\" \"I will not dispute it\nwith you,\" answered the perie; \"for I must confess he deserves to\nbe married to that charming creature, whom they design for hump-\nback; and I think it were a deed worthy of us to obstruct the\nsultan of Egypt's injustice, and put this young gentleman in the\nroom of the slave.\" \"You are in the right,\" answered the genie;\n\"I am extremely obliged to you for so good a thought; let us\ndeceive him. I consent to your revenge upon the sultan of Egypt;\nlet us comfort a distressed father, and make his daughter as\nhappy as she thinks herself miserable. I will do my utmost\nendeavours to make this project succeed, and I am persuaded you\nwill not be backward. I will be at the pains to carry him to\nCairo before he awakes, and afterwards leave it to your care to\ncarry him elsewhere, when we have accomplished our design.\"\n\nThe perie and the genie having thus concerted what they had to\ndo, the genie lifted up Buddir ad Deen Houssun gently, and with\nan inconceivable swiftness conveyed him through the air and set\nhim down at the door of a building next to the bath, whence hump-\nback was to come with a train of slaves that waited for him.\nBuddir ad Deen awoke, and was naturally alarmed at finding\nhimself in the middle of a city he knew not; he was going to cry\nout, but the genie touched him gently on the shoulder, and forbad\nhim to speak. He then put a torch in his hand, saying, \"Go, and\nmix with the crowd at the door of the bath; follow them till you\ncome into a hall, where they are going to celebrate a marriage.\nThe bridegroom is a hump-backed fellow, and by that you will\neasily know him. Put yourself at the right hand as you go in,\nopen the purse of sequins you have in your bosom, distribute them\namong the musicians and dancers as they go along; and when you\nare got into the hall, give money also to the female slaves you\nsee about the bride; but every time you put your hand in your\npurse, be sure to take out a whole handful, and do not spare\nthem. Observe to do everything exactly as I have desired you; be\nnot afraid of any person, and leave the rest to a superior power,\nwho will order matters as he thinks fit.\"\n\nBuddir ad Deen, being well instructed in all that he was to do,\nadvanced towards the door of the bath. The first thing he did was\nto light his torch at that of a slave; and then mixing among them\nas if he belonged to some noblemen of Cairo, he marched along as\nthey did, and followed humpback, who came out of the bath, and\nmounted a horse from the sultan's own stable.\n\nBuddir ad Deen coming near to the musicians, and men and women\ndancers, who went just before the bridegroom, pulled out time\nafter time whole handfuls of sequins, which he distributed among\nthem: and as he thus gave his money with an unparalleled grace\nand engaging mien, all who received it fixed their eyes upon him;\nand after they had a full view of his face, they found him so\nhandsome that they could not withdraw their attention.\n\nAt last they came to the gates of the vizier who little thought\nhis nephew was so near. The doorkeepers, to prevent any disorder,\nkept back all the slaves that carried torches, and would not\nadmit them. Buddir ad Deen was likewise refused; but the\nmusicians, who had free entrance, stood still, and protested they\nwould not go in, if they hindered him from accompanying them. \"He\nis not one of the slaves'\" said they; \"look upon him, and you\nwill soon be satisfied. He is certainly a young stranger, who is\ncurious to see the ceremonies observed at marriages in this\ncity;\" and saying thus, they put him in the midst of them, and\ncarried him with them in spite of the porters. They took his\ntorch out of his hand, gave it to the first they met, and having\nbrought him into the hall, placed him at the right hand of the\nhump-backed bridegroom, who sat near the vizier's daughter on a\nthrone most richly adorned.\n\nShe appeared very lovely, but in her face there was nothing to be\nseen but vexation and grief. The cause of this was easily to be\nguessed, when she had by her side a bridegroom so very deformed,\nand so unworthy of her love. The nuptial seat was in the midst of\nan estrade. The ladies of the emirs, viziers, those of the\nsultan's bed-chamber, and several other ladies of the court and\ncity, were placed on each side, a little lower, every one\naccording to her rank, and richly dressed, holding a large wax\ntaper in her hands.\n\nWhen they saw Buddir ad Deen Houssun, all fixed their eyes upon\nhim, and admiring his shape, his behaviour, and the beauty of his\nface, they could not forbear looking upon him. When he was seated\nevery one deft their seats, came near him to have a full view of\nhis face, and all found themselves moved with love and\nadmiration.\n\nThe disparity between Buddir ad Deen Houssun and the hump-backed\ngroom, who made such a contemptible figure, occasioned great\nmurmuring among the company; insomuch that the ladies cried out,\n\"We must give our bride to this handsome young gentleman, and not\nto this ugly humpback.\" Nor did they rest here, but uttered\nimprecations against the sultan, who, abusing his absolute power,\nwould unite ugliness and beauty together. They also mocked the\nbridegroom, so as to put him out of countenance, to the great\nsatisfaction of the spectators, whose shouts for some time put a\nstop to the concert of music in the hall. At last the musicians\nbegan again, and the women who had dressed the bride surrounded\nher.\n\nEach time that the bride retired to change her dress, she on her\nreturn passed by hump-back without giving him one look, and went\ntowards Buddir ad Deen, before whom she presented herself in her\nnew attire. On this occasion, Buddir ad Deen, according to the\ninstructions given him by the genie, failed not to put his hands\nin his purse, and pulled out handfuls of sequins, which he\ndistributed among the women that followed the bride. Nor did he\nforget the players and dancers, but also threw money to them. It\nwas pleasant to see how they pushed one another to gather it up.\nThey shewed themselves thankful for his liberality.\n\nWhen the ceremony of changing habits was passed, the music ceased\nand the company retired. The bride repaired to the nuptial\nchamber, whither her attendants followed to undress her, and none\nremained in the hall but the hump-back groom, Buddir ad Deen, and\nsome of the domestics.\n\nHump-back, who was enraged at Buddir ad Deen, suspecting him to\nbe his rival, gave him a cross look, and said, \"And thou, what\ndost thou wait for? Why art thou not gone as well as the rest?\nDepart!\" Buddir ad Deen having no pretence to stay, withdrew, not\nknowing what to do with himself. But before he got out of the\nvestibule, the genie and the perie met and stopped him. \"Whither\nare you going?\" said the perie; \"stay, hump-back is not in the\nhall, return, and introduce yourself into the bride's chamber. As\nsoon as you are alone with her, tell her boldly that you are her\nhusband, that the sultan's intention was only to make sport with\nthe groom. In the mean time we will take care that the hump-back\nshall not return, and let nothing hinder your passing the night\nwith your bride, for she is yours and not his.\"\n\nWhile the perie thus encouraged Buddir ad Deen, and instructed\nhim how he should behave himself, hump-back had really gone out\nof the room for a moment. The genie went to him in the shape of a\nmonstrous cat, mewing at a most fearful rate. Hump-back called to\nthe cat, he clapped his hands to drive her away, but instead of\nretreating, she stood upon her hinder feet, staring with her eyes\nlike fire, looking fiercely at him, mewing louder than she did at\nfirst, and increasing in size till she was as large as an ass. At\nthis sight, hump-back would have cried out for help, but his fear\nwas so great, that he stood gaping and could not utter one word.\nThat he might have no time to recover, the genie changed himself\nimmediately into a large buffalo, and in this stripe called to\nhim, with a voice that redoubled his fear, \"Thou hump-backed\nvillain!\" At these words the affrighted groom cast himself upon\nthe ground, and covering his face with his vest, that he might\nnot see this dreadful beast, \"Sovereign prince of buffaloes,\"\nsaid he, \"what is it you want of me?\" \"Woe be to thee,\" replied\nthe genie, \"hast thou the presumption to venture to marry my\nmistress?\" \"O my lord,\" said hump-back, \"I pray you to pardon me,\nif I am guilty, it is through ignorance. I did not know that this\nlady had a buffalo to her sweetheart: command me in anything you\nplease, I give you my oath that I am ready to obey you.\" \"By\ndeath,\" replied the genie; \"if thou goest out from hence, or\nspeakest a word till the sun rises, I will crush thy head to\npieces. I warn thee to obey, for if thou hast the impudence to\nreturn, it shall cost thee thy life.\" When the genie had done\nspeaking, he transformed himself into the shape of a man, took\nhump-back by the legs, and after having set him against the wall\nwith his head downwards, \"If thou stir,\" said he, \"before the sun\nrise, as I have told thee already, I will take thee by the heels\nagain, and dash thy head in a thousand pieces against the wall.\"\n\nTo return to Buddir ad Deen. Prompted by the genie and the\npresence of the perie, he returned to the hall, from whence he\nslips into the bride-chamber, where he sat down, expecting the\nsuccess of his adventure. After a while the bride arrived,\nconducted by an old matron, who came no farther than the door,\nwithout looking in to see whether it were hump-back or another\nthat was there, and then retired.\n\nThe beautiful bride was agreeably surprised to find instead of\nhump-back a handsome youth, who gracefully addressed her. \"What!\nmy dear friend,\" said she, \"by your being here at this time of\nnight you must be my husband's comrade?\" \"No, madam,\" said Buddir\nad Deen, \"I am of another quality than that ugly hump-back.\"\n\"But,\" said she, \"you do not consider that you speak degradingly\nof my husband.\" \"He your husband,\" replied he: \"can you retain\nthose thoughts so long? Be convinced of your mistake, for so much\nbeauty must never be sacrificed to the most contemptible of\nmankind. It is I that am the happy mortal for whom it is\nreserved. The sultan had a mind to make himself merry, by putting\nthis trick upon the vizier your father, but he chose me to be\nyour real husband. You might have observed how the ladies, the\nmusicians, the dancers, your women, and all the servants of your\nfamily, were pleased with this comedy. We have sent hump-back to\nhis stable again.\"\n\nAt this discourse the vizier's daughter (who was more like one\ndead than alive when she came into the bride-chamber) put on a\ngay air, which made her so handsome, that Buddir ad Deen was\ncharmed with her graces.\n\n\"I did not expect,\" said she, \"to meet with so pleasing a\nsurprise; and I had condemned myself to live unhappy all my days.\nBut my good fortune is so much the greater, that I possess in you\na man worthy of my tenderest affection.\"\n\nBuddir ad Deen, overjoyed to see himself possessor of so many\ncharms, retired with his bride, and laid his vesture aside, with\nthe bag that he had from the Jew; which, notwithstanding all the\nmoney he had dispersed, was still full.\n\nTowards morning, while the two lovers were asleep, the genie, who\nhad met again with the perie, said, \"It is time to finish what we\nhave so successfully carried on; let us not be overtaken by day-\nlight, which will soon appear; go you and bring off the young man\nagain without awaking him.\"\n\nThe perie went into the bed-chamber where the two lovers were\nfast asleep, took up Buddir ad Deen in his under vest and\ndrawers; and in company with the genie with wonderful swiftness\nfled away with him to the gates of Damascus in Syria, where they\narrived just at the time when the officers of the mosques,\nappointed for that end, were calling the people to prayers at\nbreak of day. The perie laid Buddir ad Deen softly on the ground,\nclose by the gate, and departed with the genie.\n\nThe gate of the city being opened, and many people assembled,\nthey were surprised to see a youth lying in his shirt and drawers\nupon the ground. One said, \"He has been hard put to it to get\naway from his mistress, that he could not get time to put on his\nclothes.\" \"Look,\" said another, \"how people expose themselves;\nsure enough he has spent most part of the night in drinking with\nhis friends, till he has got drunk, and then, perhaps, having\noccasion to go out, instead of returning, is come this length,\nand not having his senses about him, was overtaken with sleep.\"\nOthers were of another opinion; but nobody could guess what had\nbeen the real occasion of his coming thither.\n\nA small puff of wind happening to blow at this time, uncovered\nhis breast, which was whiter than snow. Every one being struck\nwith admiration at the fineness of his complexion, they spoke so\nloud that they awaked him.\n\nHis surprise was as great as theirs, when he found himself at the\ngate of a city where he had never been before, and encompassed by\na crowd of people gazing at him. \"Inform me,\" said he, \"for God's\nsake, where I am, and what you would have?\" One of the crowd\nspoke to him saying, \"Young man, the gates of the city were just\nnow opened, and as we came out we found you lying here in this\ncondition: have you lain here all night? and do not you know that\nyou are at one of the gates of Damascus?\" \"At one of the gates of\nDamascus!\" answered Buddir ad Deen, \"surely you mock me. When I\nlay down to sleep last night I was at Cairo.\" When he had said\nthis, some of the people, moved with compassion for him,\nexclaimed, \"It is a pity that such a handsome young man should\nhave lost his senses;\" and so went away.\n\n\"My son,\" said an old man to him, \"you know not what you say. How\nis it possible that you, being this morning at Damascus, could be\nlast night at Cairo?\" \"It is true,\" said Buddir ad Deen, \"and I\nswear to you, that I was all day yesterday at Bussorah.\" He had\nno sooner said this than all the people fell into a fit of\nlaughter, and cried out, \"He's a fool, he's a madman.\" There were\nsome, however, that pitied him because of his youth; and one\namong the company said to him, \"My son, you must certainly be\ncrazed, you do not consider what you say. Is it possible that a\nman could yesterday be at Bussorah, the same night at Cairo, and\nthis morning at Damascus? Surely you are asleep still, come rouse\nup your spirits.\" \"What I say,\" answered Buddir ad Deen Houssun,\n\"is so true that last night I was married in the city of Cairo.\"\nAll those who laughed before, could not forbear again at this\ndeclaration. \"Recollect yourself,\" said the same person who spoke\nbefore; \"you must have dreamt all this, and the fancy still\npossesses your brain.\" \"I am sensible of what I say,\" answered\nthe young man. \"Pray can you tell me how it was possible for me\nto go in a dream to Cairo, where I am very certain I was in\nperson, and where my bride was seven times brought before me,\neach time dressed in a different habit, and where I saw an ugly\nhump backed fellow, to whom they intended to give her? Besides, I\nwant to know what is become of my vest, my turban, and the bag of\nsequins I had at Cairo?\"\n\nThough he assured them that all these things were matters of\nfact, yet they could not forbear to laugh at him: which put him\ninto such confusion, that he knew not what to think of all those\nadventures.\n\nAfter Buddir ad Deen Houssun had confidently affirmed all that he\nsaid to be true, he rose up to go into the town, and every one\nwho followed him called out, \"A madman, a fool.\" Upon this some\nlooked out at their windows, some came to their doors, and others\njoined with those that were about him, calling out as they did,\n\"A madman;\" but not knowing for what. In this perplexity the\naffrighted young man happened to come before a pastry-cook's\nshop, and went into it to avoid the rabble.\n\nThis pastry-cook had formerly been captain to a troop of Arabian\nrobbers, who plundered the caravans; and though he was become a\ncitizen of Damascus, where he behaved himself to every one's\nsatisfaction, yet he was dreaded by all who knew him; wherefore,\nas soon as he came out to the rabble who followed Buddir ad Deen,\nthey dispersed.\n\nThe pastry-cook asked him who he was, and what brought him\nthither. Buddir ad Deen told him all, not concealing his birth,\nnor the death of his father the grand vizier. He afterwards gave\nhim an account why he had left Bussorah; how, after he had fallen\nasleep the night following upon his father's tomb, he found\nhimself when he awoke at Cairo, where he had married a lady; and\nat last, in what amazement he was, when he found himself at\nDamascus, without being able to penetrate into all those\nwonderful adventures.\n\n\"Your history is one of the most surprising,\" said the pastry-\ncook; \"but if you will follow my advice, you will let no man know\nthose matters you have revealed to me, but patiently wait till\nheaven thinks fit to put an end to your misfortunes. You shall be\nwelcome to stay with me till then; and as I have no children, I\nwill own you for my son, if you consent; after you are so\nadopted, you may freely walk the city, without being exposed any\nmore to the insults of the rabble.\"\n\nThough this adoption was below the son of a grand vizier, Buddir\nad Deen was glad to accept of the pastry-cook's proposal, judging\nit the best thing he could do, considering his circumstances. The\ncook clothed him, called for witnesses, and went before a notary,\nwhere he acknowledged him for his son. After this, Buddir ad Deen\nlived with him under the name of Houssun, and learned the pastry-\ntrade.\n\nWhile this passed at Damascus, the daughter of Shumse ad Deen\nawoke, and finding Buddir ad Deen gone, supposed he had risen\nsoftly for fear of disturbing her, but would soon return. As she\nwas in expectation of him, her father the vizier. (who was vexed\nat the affront put upon him by the sultan) came and knocked at\nher chamber-door, to bewail her sad destiny. He called her by her\nname, and she knowing him by his voice, immediately got up, and\nopened the door. She kissed his hand, and received him with so\nmuch pleasure in her countenance, that she surprised the vizier.\nwho expected to find her drowned in tears, and as much grieved as\nhimself. \"Unhappy wretch!\" said he in a passion, \"do you appear\nbefore me thus? after the hideous sacrifice you have just\nconsummated, can you see me with so much satisfaction?\"\n\nThe new bride seeing her father angry at her pleasant\ncountenance, said to him, \"For God's sake, sir, do not reproach\nme wrongfully; it is not the hump-back fellow, whom I abhor more\nthan death, it is not that monster I have married. Every body\nlaughed him to scorn, and put him so out of countenance, that he\nwas forced to run away and hide himself, to make room for a noble\nyouth, who is my real husband.\" \"What fable do you tell me?\" said\nShumse ad Deen, roughly. \"What! Did not crook-back lie with you\ntonight?\" \"No, sir,\" said she, \"it was the youth I mentioned, who\nhas large eyes and black eyebrows.\" At these words the vizier.\nlost all patience, and exclaimed in anger, \"Ah, wicked woman! you\nwill make me distracted!\" \"It is you, father,\" said she, \"that\nput me out of my senses by your incredulity.\" \"So, it is not\ntrue,\" replied the vizier, \"that hump-back----\" \"Let us talk no\nmore of hump-back,\" said she, \"a curse upon hump-back. Father, I\nassure you once more, that I did not bed with him, but with my\ndear spouse, who, I believe, is not far off.\"\n\nShumse ad Deen went out to seek him, but, instead of seeing\nBuddir ad Deen, was surprised to find hump-back with his head on\nthe ground, and his heels uppermost, as the genie had set him\nagainst the wall. \"What is the meaning of this?\" said he; \"who\nplaced you thus?\" Crookback, knowing it to be the vizier.\nanswered, \"Alas! alas! it is you then that would marry me to the\nmistress of a genie in the form of a buffalo.\"\n\nShumse ad Deen Mabummud, when he heard hump-back speak thus,\nthought he was raving, bade him move, and stand upon his legs. \"I\nwill take care how I stir,\" said hump-back, \"unless the sun be\nrisen. Know, sir, that when I came last night to your palace,\nsuddenly a black cat appeared to me, and in an instant grew as\nbig as a buffalo. I have not forgotten what he enjoined me,\ntherefore you may depart, and leave me here.\" The vizier. instead\nof going away, took him by the heels, and made him stand up, when\nhump-back ran off, without looking behind him; and coming to the\npalace presented himself to the sultan, who laughed heartily when\ninformed how the genie had served him.\n\nShumse ad Deen returned to his daughter's chamber, more\nastonished than before. \"My abused daughter,\" said he, \"can you\ngive me no farther light in this miraculous affair?\" \"Sir,\"\nreplied she, \"I can give you no other account than I have done\nalready. Here are my husband's clothes, which he put off last\nnight; perhaps you may find something among them that may solve\nyour doubt.\" She then shewed him Buddir ad Deen's turban, which\nhe examined narrowly on all sides, saying, \"I should take this to\nbe a vizier's turban, if it were not made after the Bussorah\nfashion.\" But perceiving something to be sewed between the stuff\nand the lining, he called for scissors, and having unripped it,\nfound the paper which Noor ad Deen Ali had given to his son upon\nhis deathbed, and which Buddir ad Deen Houssun had sewn in his\nturban for security.\n\nShumse ad Deen having opened the paper, knew his brother's hand,\nand found this superscription, \"For my son Buddir ad Deen\nHoussun.\" Before he could make any reflections upon it, his\ndaughter delivered him the bag, that lay under the garments,\nwhich he likewise opened, and found it full of sequins: for,\nnotwithstanding all the liberality of Buddir ad Deen, it was\nstill kept full by the genie and perie. He read the following\nwords upon a note in the bag: \"A thousand sequins belonging to\nIsaac the Jew.\" And these lines underneath, which the Jew had\nwritten, \"Delivered to my lord Buddir ad Deen Houssun, for the\ncargo of the first of those ships that formerly belonged to the\nnoble vizier, his father, of blessed memory, sold to me upon its\narrival in this place.\" He had scarcely read these words, when he\ngroaned heavily, and fainted away.\n\nThe vizier Shumse ad Deen being recovered from his fit by the aid\nof his daughter, and the women she called to her assistance;\n\"Daughter,\" said he, \"do not alarm yourself at this accident,\noccasioned by what is scarcely credible. Your bridegroom is your\ncousin, the son of my beloved and deceased brother. The thousand\nsequins in the bag reminds me of a quarrel I had with him, and is\nwithout the dowry he gives you. God be praised for all things,\nand particularly for this miraculous adventure, which\ndemonstrates his almighty power.\" Then looking again upon his\nbrother's writing, he kissed it several times, shedding abundance\nof tears.\n\nHe looked over the book from beginning to end. In it he found the\ndate of his brother's arrival at Bussorah, of his marriage, and\nof the birth of his son; and when he compared them with the day\nof his own marriage, and the birth of his daughter at Cairo, he\nwondered at the exact coincidence which appeared in every\ncircumstance.\n\nThe happy discovery put him into such a transport of joy, that he\ntook the book, with the ticket of the bag, and shewed them to the\nsultan, who pardoned what was past, and was so much pleased with\nthe relation of this adventure, that he caused it with all its\ncircumstances to be put in writing for the information of\nposterity.\n\nMeanwhile, the vizier. Shumse ad Deen could not comprehend the\nreason why his nephew did not appear; he expected him every\nmoment, and was impatient to receive him to his arms. After he\nhad waited seven days in vain, he searched through all Cairo, but\ncould procure no intelligence of him, which threw him into great\nperplexity. \"This is the strangest occurrence,\" said he, \"that\never happened.\" In order to certify it, he thought fit to draw up\nin writing with his own hand an account of the manner in which\nthe wedding had been solemnized; how the hall and his daughter's\nbed-chamber were furnished, with the other circumstances. He\nlikewise made the turban, the bag, and the rest of Buddir ad\nDeen's raiment into a bundle, and locked them up.\n\nAfter some days were past, the vizier's daughter perceived\nherself pregnant, and after nine months was brought to bed of a\nson. A nurse was provided for the child, besides other women and\nslaves to wait upon him; and his grandfather called him Agib.\n\nWhen young Agib had attained the age of seven, the vizier,\ninstead of teaching him to read at home, put him to school with a\nmaster who was in great esteem; and two slaves were ordered to\nwait upon him. Agib used to play with his schoolfellows, and as\nthey were all inferior to him in rank, they shewed him great\nrespect, according to the example of their master, who many times\nwould pass by faults in him that he would correct in his other\npupils. This indulgence spoiled Agib; he became proud and\ninsolent, would have his play-fellows bear all from him, and\nwould submit to nothing from them, but be master every where; and\nif any took the liberty to thwart him, he would call them a\nthousand names, and many times beat them.\n\nIn short, all the scholars grew weary of his insolence, and\ncomplained of him to their master. He answered, \"That they must\nhave patience.\" But when he saw that Agib grew still more and\nmore overbearing, and occasioned him much trouble, \"Children,\"\nsaid he to his scholars, \"I find Agib is a little insolent\ngentleman; I will shew you how to mortify him, so that he shall\nnever torment you any more. Nay, I believe it will make him leave\nthe school. When he comes again to-morrow, place yourselves round\nhim, and let one of you call out, \"Come, let us play, but upon\ncondition, that every one who desires to play shall tell his own\nname, and the names of his father and mother; they who refuse\nshall be esteemed bastards, and not be suffered to play in our\ncompany.\"\n\nNext day when they were gathered together, they failed not to\nfollow their master's instructions. They placed themselves round\nAgib, and one of them called out, \"Let us begin a play, but on\ncondition that he who cannot tell his own name, and that of his\nfather and mother, shall not play at all.\" They all cried out,\nand so did Agib, \"We consent.\" Then he that spoke first asked\nevery one the question, and all fulfilled the condition except\nAgib, who answered, \"My name is Agib, my mother is called the\nlady of beauty, and my father Shumse ad Deen Mahummud, vizier to\nthe sultan.\"\n\nAt these words all the children cried out, \"Agib, what do you\nsay? That is not the name of your father, but your grandfather.\"\n\"A curse on you,\" said he in a passion. \"What! dare you say that\nthe vizier is not my father?\" \"No, no,\" cried they with great\nlaughter, \"he is your grandfather, and you shall not play with\nus. Nay we will take care how we come into your company.\" Having\nspoken thus, they all left him, scoffing him, and laughing among\nthemselves, which mortified Agib so much that he wept.\n\nThe schoolmaster who was near, and heard all that passed, came\nup, and speaking to Agib, said, \"Agib, do not you know that the\nvizier is not your father, but your grandfather, and the father\nof your mother the lady of beauty? We know not the name of your\nfather any more than you do. We only know that the sultan was\ngoing to marry your mother to one of his grooms, a humpback\nfellow; but a genie lay with her. This is hard upon you, but\nought to teach you to treat your schoolfellows with less\nhaughtiness.\"\n\nAgib being nettled at this, ran hastily out of the school. He\nwent directly sobbing to his mother's chamber, who being alarmed\nto see him thus grieved, asked the reason. He could not answer\nfor tears, so great was his mortification, and it was long ere he\ncould speak plain enough to repeat what had been said to him, and\nhad occasioned his sorrow.\n\nWhen he came to himself. \"Mother,\" said he \"for the love of God\nbe pleased to tell me who is my father?\" \"My son,\" she replied,\n\"Shumse ad Deen Mahummud, who every day caresses you so kindly,\nis your father.\" \"You do not tell me truth,\" returned Agib; \"he\nis your father, and none of mine. But whose son am I?\" At this\nquestion, the lady of beauty calling to mind her wedding night,\nwhich had been succeeded by a long widowhood, began to shed\ntears, repining bitterly at the loss of so handsome a husband as\nBuddir ad Deen.\n\nWhilst the lady of beauty and Agib were both weeping, the vizier\nentered, who demanded the reason of their sorrow. The lady told\nhim the shame Agib had undergone at school, which so much\naffected the vizier that he joined his tears with theirs, and\njudging from this that the misfortune which had happened to his\ndaughter was the common discourse of the town, he was mortified\nto the quick.\n\nBeing thus afflicted, he went to the sultan's palace, and falling\nprostrate at his feet, most humbly intreated permission to make a\njourney in search of his nephew Buddir ad Deen Houssun. For he\ncould not bear any longer that the people of the city should\nbelieve a genie had disgraced his daughter.\n\nThe sultan was much concerned at the vizier's affliction,\napproved his resolution, and gave him leave to travel. He caused\na passport also to be written for him, requesting in the\nstrongest terms all kings and princes in whose dominions Buddir\nad Deen might sojourn, to grant that the vizier might conduct him\nto Cairo.\n\nShumse ad Deen, not knowing how to express his gratitude to the\nsultan, fell down before him a second time, while the floods of\ntears he shed bore sufficient testimony to his feelings. At last,\nhaving wished the sultan all manner of prosperity, he took his\nleave and returned to his house, where he disposed every thing\nfor his journey; and the preparations were carried on with so\nmuch diligence, that in four days after he left the city,\naccompanied with his daughter the lady of beauty, and his\ngrandson Agib.\n\nThey travelled nineteen days without intermission; but on the\ntwentieth, arriving at a pleasant mead, a small distance from the\ngate of Damascus, they halted, and pitched their tents upon the\nbanks of a river which fertilizes the vicinity, and runs through\nthe town, one of the pleasantest in Syria, once the capital of\nthe caliphs; and celebrated for its elegant buildings, the\npoliteness of its inhabitants, and the abundance of its\nconveniences.\n\nThe vizier declared he would stay in that pleasent place two\ndays, and pursue his journey on the third. In the mean time he\ngave his retinue leave to go to Damascus; and almost all of them\nmade use of it: some influenced by curiosity to see a city they\nhad heard so much of, and others by the opportunity of vending\nthe Egyptian goods they had brought with them, or buying stuffs,\nand the rarities of the country. The beautiful lady desiring her\nson Agib might share in the satisfaction of viewing that\ncelebrated city, ordered the black eunuch, who acted in quality\nof his governor, to conduct him thither.\n\nAgib, in magnificent apparel, went with the eunuch, who had a\nlarge cane in his hand. They had no sooner entered the city, than\nAgib, fair and glorious as the day, attracted the eyes of the\npeople. Some got out of their houses to gain a nearer and\nnarrower view of him; others put their heads out of the windows,\nand those who passed along the street were not satisfied in\nstopping to look upon him, but kept pace with him, to prolong the\npleasure of the agreeable sight: in fine, there was not a person\nthat did not admire him, and bestow a thousand benedictions on\nthe father and mother that had given being to so fine a child. By\nchance the eunuch and he passed by the shop of Buddir ad Deen\nHoussun, and there the crowd was so great, that they were forced\nto halt.\n\nThe pastry-cook who had adopted Buddir ad Deen Houssun had died\nsome years before, and left him his shop and all his property,\nand he conducted the pastry trade so dexterously, that he had\ngained great reputation in Damascus. Buddir ad Deen seeing so\ngreat a crowd before his door, who were gazing so attentively\nupon Agib and the black eunuch, stepped out to see them himself.\n\nHaving cast his eyes upon Agib, Buddir ad Deen found himself\nmoved, he knew not how, nor for what reason. He was not struck\nlike the people with the brilliant beauty of the boy; another\ncause unknown to him gave rise to the uneasiness and emotion he\nfelt. It was the force of blood that wrought in this tender\nfather; who, laying aside his business, made up to Agib, and with\nan engaging air, said to him: \"My little lord, who hast won my\nsoul, be so kind as to come into my shop, and eat a bit of such\nfare as I have; that I may have the pleasure of admiring you at\nmy ease.\" These words he pronounced with such tenderness, that\ntears trickled from his eyes. Little Agib was moved when he saw\nhis emotion; and turning to the eunuch, said, \"This honest man\nspeaks in such an affectionate manner, that I cannot avoid\ncomplying with his request; let us step into his house, and taste\nhis pastry.\" \"It would be a fine thing truly,\" replied the slave,\n\"to see the son of a vizier go into a pastry-cook's shop to eat;\ndo not imagine that I will suffer any such thing.\" \"Alas! my\nlord,\" cried Buddir ad Deen, \"it is cruelty to trust the conduct\nof you in the hands of a person who treats you so harshly.\" Then\napplying himself to the eunuch, \"My good friend,\" continued he,\n\"pray do not hinder this young lord from granting me the favour I\nask; do not put such mortification upon me: rather do me the\nhonour to walk in along with him, and by so doing, you will let\nthe world know, that, though your outside is brown like a\nchestnut, your inside is as white. Do you know,\" continued he,\n\"that I am master of the secret to make you white, instead of\nbeing black as you are?\" This set the eunuch a laughing, and then\nhe asked what that secret was. \"I will tell you,\" replied Buddir\nad Deen, who repeated some verses in praise of black eunuchs,\nimplying, that it was by their ministry that the honour of\nprinces and of all great men was secured. The eunuch was so\ncharmed with these verses, that, without further hesitation, he\nsuffered Agib to go into the shop, and went in with him himself.\n\nBuddir ad Deen Houssun was overjoyed at having obtained what he\nhad so passionately desired, and, falling again to the work he\nhad discontinued \"I was making,\" said he, \"cream-tarts; and you\nmust, with submission, eat of them. I am persuaded you will find\nthem good; for my own mother, who made them incomparably well,\ntaught me, and the people send to buy them of me from all\nquarters of the town.\" This said, he took a cream-tart out of the\noven, and after strewing upon it some pomegranate kernels and\nsugar, set it before Agib, who found it very delicious.\n\nAnother was served up to the eunuch, and he gave the same\njudgment.\n\nWhile they were both eating, Buddir ad Deen viewed Agib very\nattentively; and after looking upon him again and again, it came\ninto his mind that possibly he might have such a son by his\ncharming wife, from whom he had been so soon and so cruelly\nseparated; and the very thought drew tears from his eyes. He\nintended to have put some questions to little Agib about his\njourney to Damascus; but the child had no time to gratify his\ncuriosity, for the eunuch pressing him to return to his\ngrandfather's tent, took him away as soon as he had done eating.\nBuddir ad Deen Houssun, not contented with looking after him,\nshut up his shop immediately, and followed him.\n\nBuddir ad Deen Houssun ran after Agib and the eunuch, and\novertook them before they had reached the gate of the city. The\neunuch perceiving he followed them, was extremely surprised: \"You\nimpertinent fellow,\" said he, with an angry tone, \"what do you\nwant?\" \"My dear friend,\" replied Buddir ad Deen, \"do not trouble\nyourself; I have a little business out of town, and I must needs\ngo and look after it.\" This answer, however, did not at all\nsatisfy the eunuch, who turning to Agib, said, \"This is all owing\nto you; I foresaw I should repent of my complaisance; you would\nneeds go into the man's shop; it was not wisely done in me to\ngive you leave.\" \"Perhaps,\" replied Agib, \"he has real business\nout of town, and the road is free to every body.\" While this\npassed they kept walking together, without looking behind them,\ntill they came near the vizier's tents, upon which they turned\nabout to see if Buddir ad Deen followed them. Agib, perceiving he\nwas within two paces of him, reddened and whitened alternately,\naccording to the different emotions that affected him. He was\nafraid the grand vizier his grandfather should come to know he\nhad been in the pastry shop, and had eaten there. In this dread,\nhe took up a large stone that lay at his foot and throwing it at\nBuddir ad Deen, hit him in the forehead, and wounded him so that\nhis face was covered with blood. The eunuch gave Buddir ad Deen\nto understand, he had no reason to complain of a mischance that\nhe had merited and brought upon himself.\n\nBuddir ad Deen turned towards the city staunching the blood of\nthe wound with his apron, which he had not put off. \"I was a\nfool,\" said he within himself, \"for leaving my house, to take so\nmuch pains about this brat; for doubtless he would never have\nused me after this manner, if he had not thought I had some ill\ndesign against him.\" When he got home, he had his wound dressed,\nand softened the sense of his mischance by the reflection that\nthere was an infinite number of people upon the earth, who were\nyet more unfortunate than he.\n\nBuddir ad Deen kept on the pastry-trade at Damascus, and his\nuncle Shumse ad Deen Mahummud went from thence three days after\nhis arrival. He went by way of Emaus, Hanah, and Halep; then\ncrossed the Euphrates, and after passing through Mardin,\nMoussoul, Singier, Diarbeker, and several other towns, arrived at\nlast at Bussorah. Immediately after his arrival he desired\naudience of the sultan, who was no sooner informed of his quality\nthan he admitted him to his presence, received him very\nfavourably, and inquired the occasion of his journey to Bussorah.\n\"Sire,\" replied the vizier \"I come to know what is become of the\nson of my brother, who has had the honour to serve your majesty.\"\n\"Noor ad Deen Ali,\" said the sultan, \"has been long dead; as for\nhis son, all I can tell you of him is, that he disappeared\nsuddenly, about two months after his father's death, and nobody\nhas seen him since, notwithstanding all the inquiry I ordered to\nbe made. But his mother, who is the daughter of one of my\nviziers, is still alive.\" Shumse ad Deen Mahummud desired leave\nof the sultan to take her to Egypt; and having obtained\npermission, without waiting till the next day, inquired after her\nplace of abode, and that very hour went to her house, accompanied\nwith his daughter and his grandson.\n\nThe widow of Noor ad Deen Ali resided still in the same place\nwhere her husband had lived. It was a stately fabric, adorned\nwith marble pillars: but Shumse ad Deen did not stop to view it.\nAt his entry he kissed the gate, and the piece of marble upon\nwhich his brother's name was written in letters of gold. He asked\nto speak with his sister-in-law, and was told by her servants,\nthat she was in a small building covered by a dome, to which they\ndirected in the middle of a very spacious court. This tender\nmother used to spend the greatest part of the day and night in\nthat room which she had built as a representation of the tomb of\nher son Buddir ad Deen Houssun, whom she supposed to be dead\nafter so long an absence. She was pouring tears over his memorial\nwhen Shumse ad Deen entering, found her buried in the deepest\naffliction.\n\nHe made his compliment, and after beseeching her to suspend her\ntears and sighs, informed her he had the honour to be her\nbrother-in-law, and acquainted her with the reason of his journey\nfrom Cairo to Bussorah.\n\nShumse ad Deen Mahummud, after acquainting his sister-in-law with\nall that had passed at Cairo on his daughter's wedding-night, and\ninforming her of the surprise occasioned by the discovery of the\npaper sewed up in Buddir ad Deen's turban, presented to her Agib\nand the beautiful lady.\n\nThe widow of Noor ad Deen, who had still continued sitting like a\nwoman dejected, and weaned from the affairs of this world, no\nsooner understood by his discourse that her dear son, whom she\nlamented so bitterly, might still be alive, than she arose, and\nrepeatedly embraced the beautiful lady and her grandchild Agib;\nand perceiving in the youth the features of Buddir ad Deen, drops\ntears different from what she had been so long accustomed to\nshed. She could not forbear kissing the youth, who, for his part,\nreceived her embraces with all the demonstrations of joy he was\ncapable of shewing. \"Sister,\" said Shumse ad Deen, \"it is time to\ndry your tears, and suppress your sighs; you must think of going\nwith us to Egypt. The sultan of Bussorah gives me leave to carry\nyou thither, and I doubt not you will consent. I am in hopes we\nshall at last find out your son my nephew; and if we do, the\nhistory of him, of you, of my own daughter, and of my own\nadventures, will deserve to be committed to writing, and\ntransmitted to posterity.\"\n\nThe widow of Noor ad Deen heard this proposal with pleasure, and\nordered preparations to be made for her departure. While they\nwere making, Shumse ad Deen desired a second audience, and after\ntaking leave of the sultan, who dismissed him with ample marks of\nrespect, and gave him a considerable present for himself, and\nanother of great value for the sultan of Egypt, he set out from\nBussorah once more for the city of Damascus.\n\nWhen he arrived in the neighbourhood of Damascus, he ordered his\ntents to be pitched without the gate, at which he designed to\nenter the city; and gave out he would tarry there three days, to\ngive his suit rest, and buy up curiosities to present to the\nsultan of Egypt.\n\nWhile he was employed in selecting the finest stuffs which the\nprincipal merchants had brought to his tents, Agib begged the\nblack eunuch his governor to carry him through the city, in order\nto see what he had not had leisure to view before; and to inquire\nwhat was become of the pastry cook whom he had wounded. The\neunuch complying with his request, went along with him towards\nthe city, after leave obtained of the beautiful lady his mother.\n\nThey entered Damascus by the Paradise-gate, which lay next to the\ntents of the vizier They walked through the great squares and the\npublic places where the richest goods were sold, and took a view\nof the superb mosque at the hour of prayer, between noon and sun-\nset. When they passed by the shop of Buddir ad Deen Houssun, whom\nthey still found employed in making cream tarts, \"I salute you\nsir,\" said Agib; \"do you know me? Do you remember you ever saw me\nbefore?\" Buddir ad Deen hearing these words, fixed his eyes upon\nhim, and recognizing him (such was the surprising effect of\npaternal love!), felt the same emotion as when he saw him first;\nhe was confused, and instead of making any answer, continued a\nlong time without uttering a word. At length, recovering himself,\n\"My lord,\" said he, \"be so kind as to come once more with your\ngovernor into my house, and taste a cream-tart. I beg your\nlordship's pardon, for the trouble I gave you in following you\nout of town; I was at that time not myself, I did not know what I\ndid. You drew me after you, and the violence of the attraction\nwas so soft, that I could not withstand it.\"\n\nAgib, astonished at what Buddir ad Deen said, replied: \"There is\nan excess in the kindness you express, and unless you engage\nunder oath not to follow me when I go from hence, I will not\nenter your house. If you give me your promise, and prove a man of\nyour word, I will visit you again to-morrow, since the vizier my\ngrandfather, is still employed in buying up rarities for a\npresent to the sultan of Egypt.\" \"My lord,\" replied Buddir ad\nDeen, \"I will do whatever you would have me.\" This said, Agib and\nthe eunuch went into the shop.\n\nPresently after, Buddir ad Deen set before them a cream-tart,\nthat was full as good as what they had eaten before; \"Come,\" said\nAgib, \"sit down by me, and eat with us.\" Buddir ad Deen sat down,\nand attempted to embrace Agib, as a testimony of the joy he\nconceived upon sitting by him. But Agib pushed him away, desiring\nhim not to be too familiar. Buddir ad Deen obeyed, and repeated\nsome extempore verses in praise of Agib: he did not eat, but made\nit his business to serve his guests. When they had done, he\nbrought them water to wash, and a very white napkin to wipe their\nhands. Then he filled a large china cup with sherbet, and put\nsnow into it; and offering it to Agib, \"This,\" said he, \"is\nsherbet of roses; and I am sure you never tasted better.\" Agib\nhaving drunk of it with pleasure, Buddir ad Deen took the cup\nfrom him, and presented it to the eunuch, who drank it all off at\nonce.\n\nIn fine, Agib and his governor having fared well, returned thanks\nto the pastry-cook for their good entertainment, and moved\nhomewards, it being then late. When they arrived at the tents of\nShumse ad Deen Mahummud, Agib's grandmother received him with\ntransports of joy: her son ran always in her mind, and in\nembracing Agib, the remembrance of him drew tears from her eyes.\n\"Ah, my child!\" said she, \"my joy would be perfect, if I had the\npleasure of embracing your father as I now embrace you.\" She made\nAgib sit by her, and put several questions to him, relating to\nthe walk he had been taking with the eunuch; and when he\ncomplained of being hungry, she gave him a piece of cream-tart,\nwhich she had made for herself, and was indeed very good: she\nlikewise gave some to the eunuch.\n\nAgib no sooner touched the piece of cream-tart that had been set\nbefore him, than he pretended he did not like it, and left it\nuncut; and Shubbaunee (which was the eunuch's name) did the same.\nThe widow of Noor ad Deen Ali observed with regret that her\ngrandson did not like the tart. \"What!\" said she, \"does my child\nthus despise the work of my hands? Be it known to you, no one in\nthe world can make such besides myself and your father, whom I\ntaught.\" \"My good mother,\" replied Agib, \"give me leave to tell\nyou, if you do not know how to make better, there is a pastry-\ncook in this town that outdoes you. We were at his shop, and ate\nof one much better than yours.\"\n\nOn hearing this, the grandmother, frowning upon the eunuch, said,\n\"How now, Shubbaunee, was the care of my grandchild committed to\nyou, to carry him to eat at pastry-shops like a beggar?\" \"Madam,\"\nreplied the eunuch, \"it is true, we did stop a little while and\ntalked with the pastry-cook, but we did not eat with him.\"\n\"Pardon me,\" said Agib, \"we went into his shop, and there ate a\ncream-tart.\" Upon this, the lady, more incensed against the\neunuch than before, rose in a passion from the table, and running\nto the tent of Shumse ad Deen, informed him of the eunuch's\ncrime; and that in such terms, as tended more to inflame the\nvizier than to dispose him to excuse it.\n\nThe vizier who was naturally passionate, did not fail on this\noccasion to display his anger. He went forthwith to his sister-\nin-law's tent, and said to the eunuch, \"Wretch, have you the\nimpudence to abuse the trust I repose in you?\" Shubbaunee, though\nsufficiently convicted by Agib's testimony, denied the fact\nstill. But the child persisting in what he had affirmed,\n\"Grandfather,\" said he, \"I can assure you we not only ate, but\nthat so very heartily, that we have no occasion for supper:\nbesides, the pastry-cook treated us also with a great bowl of\nsherbet.\" \"Well,\" cried Shumse ad Deen, \"after all this, will you\ncontinue to deny that you entered the pastry-cook's house, and\nate there?\" Shubbaunee had still the impudence to swear it was\nnot true. \"Then you are a liar,\" said the vizier \"I believe my\ngrandchild; but after all, if you can eat up this cream-tart I\nshall be persuaded you have truth on your side.\"\n\nThough Shubbaunee had crammed himself up to the throat before, he\nagreed to stand that test, and accordingly took a piece of tart;\nbut his stomach rising against it, he was obliged to spit it out\nof his mouth. Yet he still pursued the lie, and pretended he had\nover-eaten himself the day before, and had not recovered his\nappetite. The vizier irritated with all the eunuch's frivolous\npresences, and convinced of his guilt, ordered him to be soundly\nbastinadoed. In undergoing this punishment, the poor wretch\nshrieked out aloud, and at last confessed the truth; \"I own,\"\ncried he, \"that we did eat a cream-tart at the pastry cook's, and\nthat it was much better than that upon the table.\"\n\nThe widow of Noor ad Deen thought it was out of spite to her, and\nwith a desire to mortify her, that Shubbaunee commended the\npastry-cook's tart; and accordingly said, \"I cannot believe the\ncook's tarts are better than mine; I am resolved to satisfy\nmyself upon that head. Where does he live? Go immediately and buy\nme one of his tarts.\" The eunuch repaired to Buddir ad Deen's\nshop, and said, \"Let me have one of your cream-tarts; one of our\nladies wants to taste them.\" Buddir ad Deen chose one of the\nbest, and gave it to the eunuch.\n\nShubbaunee returned speedily to the tents, gave the tart to Noor\nad Deen's widow, who, snatching it greedily, broke a piece off;\nbut no sooner put it to her mouth, than she cried out and swooned\naway. The vizier was extremely surprised at the accident; he\nthrew water upon her face, and was very active in recovering her.\nAs soon as she came to herself, \"My God!\" cried she, \"it must\nneeds be my son, my dear Buddir ad Deen who made this tart.\"\n\nWhen the vizier Shumse ad Deen heard his sister-in-law say, that\nthe maker of the tart, brought by the eunuch, must needs be her\nson, he was overjoyed; but reflecting that his joy might prove\ngroundless, and the conjecture of Noor ad Deen's widow be false,\n\"Madam,\" said he, \"do you think there may not be a pastry-cook in\nthe world, who knows how to make cream-tarts as well as your\nson?\" \"I own,\" replied she, \"there may be pastry-cooks that can\nmake as good tarts as he; but as I make them in a peculiar\nmanner, and only my son was let into the secret, it must\nabsolutely be he that made this. Come, my brother,\" added she in\na transport, \"let us call up mirth and joy; we have at last found\nwhat we have been so long looking for.\" \"Madam,\" said the vizier\nanswer, \"I entreat you to moderate your impatience, for we shall\nquickly know the truth. All we have to do, is to bring the\npastry-cook hither; and then you and my daughter will readily\ndistinguish whether he be your son or not. But you must both be\nconcealed so as to have a view of Buddir ad Deen while he cannot\nsee you; for I would not have our interview and mutual discovery\nhappen at Damascus. My design is to delay the discovery till we\nreturn to Cairo.\"\n\nThis said, he left the ladies in their tent, and retired to his\nown; where he called for fifty of his men, and said to them:\n\"Take each of you a stick in your hands, and follow Shubbaunee,\nwho will conduct you to a pastry-cook in this city. When you\narrive there, break and dash in pieces all you find in the shop:\nif he demand the reason of your outrage, only ask him in return\nif it was not he that made the cream-tart that was brought from\nhis house. If he answer in the affirmative, seize his person,\nfetter him, and bring him along with you; but take care you do\nnot beat him, nor do him the least harm. Go, and lose no time.\"\n\nThe vizier's orders were immediately executed. The detachment,\nconducted by the black eunuch, went with expedition to Buddir ad\nDeen's house, broke in pieces the plates, kettles, copper pans,\nand all the other moveables and utensils they met with, and\ninundated the sherbet-shop with cream and comfits. Buddir ad\nDeen, astonished at the sight, said with a pitiful tone, \"Pray,\ngood people, why do you serve me so? What is the matter? What\nhave I done?\" \"Was it not you,\" said they, \"that sold this eunuch\nthe cream-tart?\" \"Yes,\" replied he, \"I am the man; and who says\nany thing against it? I defy any one to make a better.\" Instead\nof giving him an answer, they continued to break all round them,\nand the oven itself was not spared.\n\nIn the mean time the neighbours took the alarm, and surprised to\nsee fifty armed men committing such a disorder, asked the reason\nof such violence; and Buddir ad Deen said once more to the\nrioters, \"Pray tell me what crime I have committed to deserve\nthis usage?\" \"Was it not you,\" replied they, \"that made the\ncream-tart you sold to the eunuch?\" \"Yes, yes, it was I,\" replied\nhe; \"I maintain it is a good one. I do not deserve this\ntreatment.\" However, without listening to him, they seized his\nperson, and, snatching the cloth off his turban, tied his hands\nwith it behind his back, and, after dragging him by force out of\nhis shop, marched off.\n\nThe mob gathering, from compassion to Buddir ad Deen, took his\npart; but officers from the governor of the city dispersed the\npeople, and favoured the carrying off of Buddir ad Deen, for\nShumse ad Deen Mahummud had in the mean time gone to the\ngovernor's house to acquaint him with the order he had given, and\nto demand the interposition of force to favour the execution; and\nthe governor, who commanded all Syria in the name of the sultan\nof Egypt, was unwilling to refuse any thing to his master's\nvizier.\n\nIt was in vain for Buddir ad Deen to ask those who carried him\noff, what fault had been found with his cream-tart: they gave him\nno answer. In short, they conducted him to the tents, and made\nhim wait there till Shumse ad Deen returned from the governor of\nDamascus.\n\nUpon the vizier's return, the pretended culprit was brought\nbefore him. \"My lord,\" said Buddir ad Deen, with tears in his\neyes, \"pray do me the favour to let me know wherein I have\ndispleased you.\" \"Why, you wretch,\" exclaimed the vizier \"was it\nnot you that made the cream-tart you sent me?\" \"I own I am the\nman,\" replied Buddir ad Deen, \"but pray what crime is that?\" \"I\nwill punish you according to your deserts,\" said Shumse ad Deen,\n\"it shall cost you your life, for sending me such a sorry tart.\"\n\"Ah!\" exclaimed Buddir ad Deen, \"is it a capital crime to make a\nbad cream-tart?\" \"Yes,\" said the vizier \"and you are to expect no\nother usage from me.\"\n\nWhile this interview lasted, the ladies, who were concealed\nbehind curtains, saw Buddir ad Deen, and recognized him,\nnotwithstanding he had been so long absent. They were so\ntransported with joy, that they swooned away; and when they\nrecovered, would fain have run up and fallen upon his neck, but\nthe promise they had made to the vizier of not discovering\nthemselves, restrained the tender emotions of love and of nature.\n\nShumse ad Deen having resolved to set out that night, ordered the\ntents to be struck, and the necessary preparations to be made for\nhis journey. He ordered Buddir ad Deen to be secured in a sort of\ncage, and laid on a camel. The vizier and his retinue began their\nmarch, and travelled the rest of that night, and all the next\nday, without stopping In the evening they halted, and Buddir ad\nDeen was taken out of his cage, in order to be served with the\nnecessary refreshments, but still carefully kept at a distance\nfrom his mother and his wife; and during the whole expedition,\nwhich lasted twenty days, was served in the same manner.\n\nWhen they arrived at Cairo, they encamped in the neighbourhood of\nthe city; Shumse ad Deen called for Buddir ad Deen, and gave\norders, in his presence, to prepare a stake. \"Alas!\" said Buddir\nad Deen, \"what do you mean to do with a stake?\" \"Why, to impale\nyou,\" replied Shumse ad Deen, \"and then to have you carried\nthrough all the quarters of the town, that the people may have\nthe spectacle of a worthless pastry-cook, who makes cream-tarts\nwithout pepper.\" This said, Buddir ad Deen cried out so\nludicrously, that Shumse ad Deen could hardly keep his\ncountenance: \"Alas!\" said he, \"must I suffer a death as cruel as\nit is ignominious, for not putting pepper in a cream-tart?\"\n\n\"How,\" said Buddir ad Deen, \"must I be rifled; must I be\nimprisoned in a chest, and at last impaled, and all for not\nputting pepper in a cream-tart? Are these the actions of\nMoosulmauns, of persons who make a profession of probity,\njustice, and good works?\" With these words he shed tears, and\nthen renewing his complaint; \"No,\" continued he, \"never was a man\nused so unjustly, nor so severely. Is it possible they should be\ncapable of taking a man's life for not putting pepper in a cream-\ntart? Cursed be all cream-tarts, as well as the hour in which I\nwas born! Would to God l had died that minute!\"\n\nThe disconsolate Buddir ad Deen did not cease his lamentations;\nand when the stake was brought, cried out bitterly at the horrid\nsight. \"Heaven!\" said he, \"can you suffer me to die an\nignominious and painful death? And all this, for what crime? not\nfor robbery or murder, or renouncing my religion, but for not\nputting pepper in a cream tart,\"\n\nNight being then pretty far advanced, the vizier ordered Buddir\nad Deen to be conveyed again to his cage, saying to him, \"Stay\nthere till to-morrow; the day shall not elapse before I give\norders for your death.\" The chest or cage then was carried away\nand laid upon the camel that had brought it from Damascus: at the\nsame time all the other camels were loaded again; and the vizier\nmounting his horse, ordered the camel that carried his nephew to\nmarch before him, and entered the city with all his suit. After\npassing through several streets, where no one appeared, he\narrived at his palace, where he ordered the chest to be taken\ndown, but not opened till farther orders.\n\nWhile his retinue were unlading the other camels, he took Buddir\nad Deen's mother and his daughter aside; and addressed himself to\nthe latter: \"God be praised,\" said he, \"my child, for this happy\noccasion of meeting your cousin and your husband! You remember,\nof course, what order your chamber was in on your wedding night:\ngo and put all things as they were then placed; and if your\nmemory do not serve you, I can aid it by a written account, which\nI caused to be taken upon that occasion.\"\n\nThe beautiful lady went joyfully to execute her father's orders;\nand he at the same time commanded the hall to be adorned as when\nBuddir ad Deen Houssun was there with the sultan of Egypt's\nhunch-backed groom. As he went over his manuscript, his domestics\nplaced every moveable in the described order. The throne was not\nforgotten, nor the lighted wax candles. When every thing was\narranged in the hall, the vizier went into his daughter's chamber\nand put in their due place Buddir ad Deen's apparel, with the\npurse of sequins. This done, he said to the beautiful lady,\n\"Undress yourself, my child, and go to bed. As soon as Buddir ad\nDeen enters your room, complain of his being from you so long,\nand tell him, that when you awoke, you were astonished you did\nnot find him by you. Press him to come to bed again; and to-\nmorrow morning you will divert your mother-in-law and me, by\ngiving us an account of your interview.\" This said, he went from\nhis daughter's apartment, and left her to undress herself and go\nto bed.\n\nShumse ad Deen Mahummud ordered all his domestics to depart the\nhall, excepting two or three, whom he desired to remain. These he\ncommanded to go and take Buddir ad Deen out of the cage, to strip\nhim to his under vest and drawers, to conduct him in that\ncondition to the hall, to leave him there alone, and shut the\ndoor upon him.\n\nBuddir ad Deen, though overwhelmed with grief, was asleep so\nsoundly, that the vizier's domestics had taken him out of the\nchest and stripped him before he awoke; and they carried him so\nsuddenly into the hall, that they did not give him time to see\nwhere he was. When he found himself alone in the hall, he looked\nround him, and the objects he beheld recalling to his memory the\ncircumstances of his marriage, he perceived, with astonishment,\nthat it was the place where he had seen the sultan's groom of the\nstables. His surprise was still the greater, when approaching\nsoftly the door of a chamber which he found open, he spied his\nown raiments where he remembered to have left them on his wedding\nnight. \"My God!\" said he, rubbing his eyes, \"am I asleep or\nawake?\"\n\nThe beautiful lady, who in the mean time was diverting herself\nwith his astonishment, opened the curtains of her bed suddenly,\nand bending her head forward, \"My dear lord,\" said she, with a\nsoft, tender air, \"what do you do at the door? You have been out\nof bed a long time. I was strangely surprised when I awoke in not\nfinding you by me.\" Buddir ad Deen was enraptured; he entered the\nroom, but reverting to all that had passed during a ten years'\ninterval, and not being able to persuade himself that it could\nall have happened in the compass of one night, he went to the\nplace where his vestments lay with the purse of sequins; and\nafter examining them very carefully, exclaimed, \"By Allah these\nare mysteries which I can by no means comprehend!\" The lady, who\nwas pleased to see his confusion, said, once more, \"My lord, what\ndo you wait for?\" He stepped towards the bed, and said to her,\n\"Is it long since I left you?\" \"The question,\" answered she,\n\"surprises me. Did not you rise from me but now? Surely your mind\nis deranged.\" \"Madam,\" replied Buddir ad Deen, \"I do assure you\nmy thoughts are not very composed. I remember indeed to have been\nwith you, but I remember at the same time, that I have since\nlived ten years at Damascus. Now, if I was actually in bed with\nyou this night, I cannot have been from you so long. These two\npoints are inconsistent. Pray tell me what I am to think; whether\nmy marriage with you is an illusion, or whether my absence from\nyou is only a dream?\" \"Yes, my lord,\" cried she, \"doubtless you\nwere light-headed when you thought you were at Damascus.\" Upon\nthis Buddir ad Deen laughed heartily, and said, \"What a comical\nfancy is this! I assure you, madam, this dream of mine will be\nvery pleasant to you. Do but imagine, if you please, that I was\nat the gate of Damascus in my shirt and drawers, as I am here\nnow; that I entered the town with the halloo of a mob who\nfollowed and insulted me; that I fled to a pastry cook who\nadopted me, taught me his trade, and left me all he had when he\ndied; that after his death I kept a shop. In fine, I had an\ninfinity of other adventures, too tedious to recount: and all I\ncan say is, that it was well that I awoke, for they were going to\nimpale me!\" \"And for what,\" cried the lady, feigning\nastonishment, \"would they have used you so cruelly? Surely you\nmust have committed some enormous crime.\" \"Not the least,\"\nreplied Buddir ad Deen; \"it was for nothing but a mere trifle,\nthe most ridiculous thing you can imagine. All the crime I was\ncharged with, was selling a cream-tart that had no pepper in it.\"\n\"As for that matter,\" said the beautiful lady laughing heartily,\n\"I must say they did you great injustice.\" \"Ah!\" replied he,\n\"that was not all. For this cursed cream-tart was every thing in\nmy shop broken to pieces, myself bound and fettered, and flung\ninto a chest, where I lay so close, that methinks I am there\nstill, but thanks be to God all was a dream.\"\n\nBuddir ad Deen was not easy all night. He awoke from time to\ntime, and put the question to himself, whether he dreamed or was\nawake. He distrusted his felicity; and, to be sure whether it was\ntrue or not, looked round the room. \"I am not mistaken,\" said he;\n\"this is the same chamber where I entered instead of the hunch-\nbacked groom of the stables; and I am now in bed with the fair\nlady designed for him.\" Day-light, which then appeared, had not\nyet dispelled his uneasiness, when the vizier Shumse ad Deen, his\nuncle, knocked at the door, and at the same time went in to bid\nhim good morrow.\n\nBuddir ad Deen was extremely surprised to see a man he knew so\nwell, and who now appeared with a different air from that with\nwhich he pronounced the terrible sentence of death against him.\n\"Ah!\" cried Buddir ad Deen, \"it was you who condemned me so\nunjustly to a kind of death, the thoughts of which make me\nshudder, and all for a cream-tart without pepper.\" The vizier\nfell a laughing, and to put him out of suspense, told him how, by\nthe ministry of a genie (for hunch-back's relation made him\nsuspect the adventure), he had been at his palace, and had\nmarried his daughter instead of the sultan's groom of the\nstables; then he acquainted him that he had discovered him to be\nhis nephew by the memorandum of his father, and pursuant to that\ndiscovery had gone from Cairo to Bussorah in quest of him. \"My\ndear nephew,\" added he, embracing him with every expression of\ntenderness, \"I ask your pardon for all I have made you undergo\nsince I discovered you. I resolved to bring you to my palace\nbefore I told you your happiness; which ought now to be so much\nthe dearer to you, as it has cost you so much perplexity and\ndistress. To atone for all your afflictions, comfort yourself\nwith the joy of being in the company of those who ought to be\ndearest to you. While you are dressing yourself I will go and\nacquaint your mother, who is beyond measure impatient to see you;\nand will likewise bring to you your son, whom you saw at\nDamascus, and for whom, without knowing him, you shewed so much\naffection.\"\n\nNo words can adequately express the joy of Buddir ad Deen, when\nhe saw his mother and his son. They embraced, and shewed all the\ntransports that love and tenderness could inspire. The mother\nspoke to Buddir ad Deen in the most moving terms; she mentioned\nthe grief she had felt for his long absence, and the tears she\nhad shed. Little Ajib, instead of flying his father's embraces,\nas at Damascus, received them with all the marks of pleasure. And\nBuddir ad Deen Houssun, divided between two objects so worthy of\nhis love, thought he could not give sufficient testimonies of his\naffection.\n\nWhile this passed, the vizier was gone to the palace, to give the\nsultan an account of the happy success of his travels; and the\nsultan was so moved with the recital of the story, that he\nordered it to be taken down in writing, and carefully preserved\namong the archives of the kingdom. After Shumse ad Deen's return\nto his palace, he sat down with his family, and all the household\npassed the day in festivity and mirth.\n\nThe vizier Jaaffier having thus concluded the story of Buddir ad\nDeen, told the caliph that this was what he had to relate to his\nmajesty. The caliph found the story so surprising, that without\nfarther hesitation he granted his slave Rihan's pardon; and to\nconsole the young man for the grief of having unhappily deprived\nhimself of a woman whom he had loved so tenderly, married him to\none of his slaves, bestowed liberal gifts upon him, and\nmaintained him till he died.\n\n\n\n\n            THE HISTORY OF GANEM, SON OF ABOU AYOUB,\n           AND KNOWN BY THE SURNAME OF LOVE'S SLAVE.\n\n\n\nThere was formerly at Damascus a merchant, who had by care and\nindustry acquired great wealth, on which he lived in a very\nhonourable manner. His name was Abou Ayoub, and he had one son\nand a daughter. The son was called Ganem, but afterwards surnamed\nLove's slave. His person was graceful, and the excellent\nqualities of his mind had been improved by able masters. The\ndaughter's name was Alcolom, signifying Ravisher of hearts,\nbecause her beauty was so perfect that whoever saw her could not\navoid loving her.\n\nAbou Ayoub died, and left immense riches: a hundred loads of\nbrocades and other silks that lay in his warehouse were the least\npart. The loads were ready made up, and on every bale was written\nin large characters, \"For Bagdad.\"\n\nMahummud, the son of Soliman, surnamed Zinebi, reigned at that\ntime at Damascus, the capital of Syria. His kinsman, Haroon al\nRusheed, had bestowed that kingdom on him as his tributary.\n\nSoon after the death of Abou Ayoub, Ganem conversed with his\nmother about their domestic affairs, and concerning the loads of\nmerchandize in the warehouse, asked her the meaning of what was\nwritten upon each bale. \"My son,\" answered his mother, \"your\nfather used to travel sometimes into one province, and sometimes\ninto another; and it was customary with him, before he set out,\nto write the name of the city he designed to repair to on every\nbade. He had provided all things to take a journey to Bagdad, and\nwas on the point of setting out, when death\"----She had not power\nto finish; the lively remembrance of the loss of her husband\nwould not permit her to say more, and drew from her a shower of\ntears.\n\nGanem could not see his mother so sensibly affected, without\nbeing equally so himself. They continued some time silent; but at\nlength he recovered himself, and as soon as he found his mother\ncalm enough to listen to him, said, \"Since my father designed\nthese goods for Bagdad, I will prepare myself to perform that\njourney; and I think it will be proper for me to hasten my\ndeparture, for fear those commodities should perish, or that we\nshould lose the opportunity of selling them to the best\nadvantage.\"\n\nAbou Ayoub's widow, who tenderly loved her son, was much\nconcerned at this resolution, and replied, \"My dear child, I\ncannot but commend you for designing to follow your father's\nexample; but consider, that you are too young, inexperienced, and\nunaccustomed to the fatigue of travelling. Besides, can you think\nof leaving me, and adding to that sorrow with which I am already\noppressed? Is it not better to sell those goods to the merchants\nof Damascus, and take up with a moderate profit, than expose\nyourself to the danger of perishing?\"\n\nIt was in vain for her to oppose Ganem's resolution by the\nstrongest arguments; they had no weight with him. An inclination\nto travel, and to accomplish himself by a thorough knowledge of\nthe world, urged him to set out, and prevailed over all his\nmother's remonstrances, her entreaties, and even her tears. He\nwent to the market where slaves were sold, and bought such as\nwere able-bodied, hired a hundred camels, and having provided all\nother necessaries, entered upon his journey, with five or six\nmerchants of Damascus, who were going to trade at Bagdad.\n\nThose merchants, attended by their slaves, and accompanied by\nseveral other travellers, made up such a considerable caravan,\nthat they had nothing to fear from the Bedouin Arabs, who make it\ntheir only profession to range the country; and attack and\nplunder the caravans when they are not strong enough to repulse\nthem. They had no other difficulty to encounter, than the usual\nfatigues of a long journey, which were easily forgotten when they\ncame in sight of the city of Bagdad, where they arrived in\nsafety.\n\nThey alighted at the most magnificent and most frequented khan in\nthe city; but Ganem chose to be lodged conveniently, and by\nhimself. He only left his goods there in a warehouse for their\ngreater security, and hired a spacious house in the\nneighbourhood, richly furnished, having a garden which was very\ndelightful, on account of its many waterworks and shady groves.\n\nSome days after this young merchant had been settled in his\nhouse, and perfectly recovered of the fatigue of his journey, he\ndressed himself richly, and repaired to the public place, where\nthe merchants met to transact business. A slave followed him,\ncarrying a parcel of fine stuffs and silks.\n\nThe merchants received Ganem very courteously, and their syndic,\nor chief, to whom he first made application, bought all his\nparcel, at the price set down in the ticket annexed to every\npiece of stuff. Ganem continued his trade so successfully, that\nhe every day sold all the goods he exposed.\n\nHe had but one bale left, which he had caused to be carried from\nthe warehouse to his own house; he then went to the public\nrendezvous, where he found all the shops shut. This seemed\nsomewhat extraordinary to him and having asked the cause, he was\ntold, that one of the first merchants, whom he knew, was dead,\nand that all his brother traders were gone to his funeral.\n\nGanem inquired for the mosque, where prayer was to be said, and\nwhence the body was to be conducted to the grave; and having been\ninformed, sent back his slave with the goods, and walked towards\nthe mosque. He got thither before the prayers were ended, which\nwere said in a hall hung with black satin. The corpse was taken\nup, and followed by the kindred, the merchants, and Ganem, to the\nplace of burial, which was at some distance without the city. It\nwas a stone structure, in form of a dome, purposely built to\nreceive the bodies of all the family of the deceased, and being\nvery small, they had pitched tents around, that all the company\nmight be sheltered during the ceremony. The monument was opened,\nand the corpse laid in it, after which it was shut up. Then the\nimam, and other ministers of the mosque, sat down in a ring on\ncarpets, in the largest tent, and recited the rest of the\nprayers. They also read the Fateah, or introductory chapter of\nthe Koraun, appointed for the burial of the dead. The kindred and\nmerchants sat round, in the same manner, behind the ministers.\n\nIt was near night before all was ended: Ganem who had not\nexpected such a long ceremony, began to be uneasy, and the more\nso, when he saw meat served up, in memory of the deceased,\naccording to the custom of the Mahummedans. He was also told that\nthe tents had been set up not only against the heat of the sun,\nbut also against the evening dew, because they should not return\nto the city before the next morning. These words perplexed Ganem.\n\"I am a stranger,\" said he to himself, \"and have the reputation\nof being a rich merchant; thieves may take the opportunity of my\nabsence, and rob my house. My slaves may be tempted by so\nfavourable an opportunity; they may run away with all the gold I\nhave received for my goods, and whither shall I go to look for\nthem?\" Full of these thoughts, he ate a few mouthfuls hastily,\nand slipped away from the company.\n\nHe made all possible haste; but, as it often happens that the\nmore a man hurries the less he advances, he went astray in the\ndark, so that it was near midnight when he came to the city gate;\nwhich, to add to his misfortune, was shut. This was a fresh\naffliction to him, and he was obliged to look for some convenient\nplace in which to pass the rest of the night till the gate was\nopened. He went into a burial-place, so spacious, that it reached\nfrom the city to the very place he had left. He advanced to some\nhigh walls, which enclosed a small field, being the mausoleum of\na family, and in which there was a palm-tree. Ganem, finding that\nthe burial-place where the palm-tree grew was open, went into it,\nand shut the door after him. He lay down on the grass and tried\nto sleep; but his uneasiness at being absent from home would not\npermit him. He got up, and after having passed before the door\nseveral times, opened it, without knowing why, and immediately\nperceived at a distance a light, which seemed to come towards\nhim. He was startled at the sight, closed the door, which had\nnothing to secure it but a latch, and got up as fast as he could\nto the top of the palm-tree; looking upon that as the safest\nretreat under his present apprehensions.\n\nNo sooner was he up, than by the help of the light which had\nalarmed him, he plainly perceived three men, whom, by their\nhabit, he knew to be slaves, enter into the burial-place. One of\nthem advanced with a lantern, and the two others followed him,\nloaded with a chest, between five and six feet long, which they\ncarried on their shoulders. They set it down, and then one of the\nthree slaves said to his comrades, \"Brethren, if you will be\nadvised by me, we will leave the chest here, and return to the\ncity.\" \"No, no,\" replied another, \"that would not be executing\nour mistress's orders; we may have cause to repent not doing as\nwe were commanded. Let us bury the chest, since we are enjoined\nso to do.\" The two other slaves complied. They began to break\nground with the tools they had brought for that purpose. When\nthey had made a deep trench, they put the chest into it, and\ncovered it with the earth they had taken out, and then departed.\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 the adventure.\nHe concluded that the chest must contain something of value, and\nthat the person to whom it belonged had some particular reasons\nfor causing it to be buried in the cemetery. He resolved\nimmediately to satisfy his curiosity, came down from the palm-\ntree, the departure of the slaves having dissipated his fear, and\nfell to work upon the pit, plying his hands and feet so well,\nthat in a short time he uncovered the chest, but found it secured\nby a padlock. This new obstacle to the satisfying of his\ncuriosity was no small mortification to him, yet he was not\ndiscouraged, but the day beginning then to appear, he saw several\ngreat stones about the burial-place. He picked out one, with\nwhich he easily knocked off the padlock, and then with much\nimpatience opened the chest. Ganem was strangely surprised, when,\ninstead of money, he discovered a young lady of incomparable\nbeauty. Her fresh and rosy complexion, and her gentle regular\nbreathing, satisfied him she was alive, but he could not conceive\nwhy, if she were only asleep, she had not awaked at the noise he\nmade in forcing off the padlock. Her habit was so costly, with\nbracelets and pendants of diamonds, and a necklace of pearls, so\nlarge, that he made not the least doubt of her being one of the\nprincipal ladies of the court. At the sight of so beautiful an\nobject, not only compassion and natural inclination to relieve\npersons in danger, but something more powerful, which Ganem could\nnot then account for, prevailed on him to afford the unfortunate\nbeauty all the assistance in his power.\n\nHe first shut the gate of the burial-place, which the slaves had\nleft open; then, returning, took the lady in his arms, and laid\nher on the soft earth which he had thrown off the chest. As soon\nas she was exposed to the air, she sneezed, and, by the motion in\nturning her head, there came from her mouth a liquor, with which\nher stomach seemed to have been loaded; then opening and rubbing\nher eyes, she with such a voice as charmed Ganem, whom she did\nnot see, cried out, \"Zohorob Bostan, Shijher al Mirjaun, Casabos\nSouccar, Nouron Nihar, Nagmatos Sohi, Nonzbetos Zaman, why do you\nnot answer? where are you?\" These were the names of six female\nslaves that used to wait on her. She called them, and wondered\nthat nobody answered; but at length looking about, and perceiving\nshe was in a burial-place, was seized with fear. \"What,\" cried\nshe, much louder than before, \"are the dead raised? Is the day of\njudgment come? What a wonderful change is this from evening to\nmorning?\"\n\nGanem did not think fit to leave the lady any longer in her\nperplexity, but presented himself before her with all possible\nrespect, and in the most courteous manner. \"Madam,\" said he, \"I\nam not able to express my joy at having happened to be here to do\nyou the service I have, and to offer you all the assistance you\nmay need under your present circumstances.\"\n\nIn order to persuade the lady to repose confidence in him, he, in\nthe first place, told her who he was, and what accident had\nbrought him to that place. Next he acquainted her with the coming\nof the three slaves, and how they had buried the chest. The lady,\nwho had covered her face with her veil as soon as Ganem appeared,\nwas extremely sensible of the obligations she owed him. \"I return\nthanks to God,\" said she \"for having sent so worthy a person as\nyou are to deliver me from death; but since you have begun so\ncharitable a work, I conjure you not to leave it imperfect. Let\nme beg of you to go into the city, and provide a muleteer, to\ncome with his mule, and carry me to your house in this chest;\nfor, should I go with you on foot, my dress being different from\nthat of the city ladies, some one might take notice of it, and\nfollow me, which it highly concerns me to prevent. When I shall\nbe 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\nperson.\"\n\nBefore the young merchant left the lady, he drew the chest out of\nthe pit, which he filled up with earth, laid her again in the\nchest, and shut it in such a manner, that it did not look as if\nthe padlock had been forced off; but for fear of stifling her, he\ndid not put it quite close, leaving room for the admittance of\nair. Going out of the burial-place, he drew the door after him;\nand the city gate being then open, soon found what he sought. He\nreturned with speed to the burial place, and helped the muleteer\nto lay the chest across his mule, telling him, to remove all\ncause of suspicion, that he came to that place the night before,\nwith another muleteer, who, being in haste to return home, had\nlaid down the chest where he saw it.\n\nGanem, who, since his arrival at Bagdad, had minded nothing but\nhis business, was still unacquainted with the power of love, and\nnow felt its first attacks. It had not been in his power to look\nupon the young lady without being dazzled; and the uneasiness he\nfelt at following the muleteer at a distance, and the fear lest\nany accident might happen by the way that should deprive him of\nhis conquest, taught him to unravel his thoughts. He was more\nthan usually delighted, when, being arrived safe at home, he saw\nthe chest unloaded. He dismissed the muleteer, and having caused\na slave to shut the door of his house, opened the chest, helped\nthe lady out, gave her his hand, and conducted her to his\napartment, lamenting how much she must have endured in such close\nconfinement. \"If I have suffered,\" said she, \"I have satisfaction\nsufficient in what you have done for me, and in the pleasure of\nseeing myself out of danger.\"\n\nThough Ganem's apartment was very richly furnished, the lady did\nnot so much regard its appearance, as she did the handsome\npresence and engaging mien of her deliverer, whose politeness and\nobliging behaviour heightened her gratitude. She sat down on a\nsofa, and to give the merchant to understand how sensible she was\nof the service done her, took off her veil. Ganem on his part was\nsensible of the favour so lovely a lady did in uncovering her\nface to him, or rather felt he had already a most violent passion\nfor her. Whatever obligations she owed him, he thought himself\nmore than requited by so singular a favour.\n\nThe lady dived into Ganem's thoughts, yet was not at all alarmed,\nbecause he appeared very respectful. He, judging she might have\noccasion to eat, and not willing to trust any but himself with\nthe care of entertaining so charming a guest, went out with a\nslave to an eating-house, to give directions for an\nentertainment. From thence he went to a fruiterer, where he chose\nthe finest and best fruit; buying also the choicest wine, and the\nsame bread that was eaten at the caliph's table.\n\nAs soon as he returned home, he with his own hands made a pyramid\nof the fruit he had bought, and serving it up himself to the lady\nin a large dish, of the finest china-ware, \"Madam,\" said he, \"be\npleased to make choice of some of this fruit, while a more solid\nentertainment, and more worthy yourself, is preparing.\" He would\nhave continued standing before her, but she declared she would\nnot touch any thing, unless he sat down and ate with her. He\nobeyed; and when they had eaten a little, Ganem observing that\nthe lady's veil, which she laid down by her on a sofa, was\nembroidered along the edge with golden letters, begged her\npermission to look on the embroidery. The lady immediately took\nup the veil, and delivered it to him, asking him whether he could\nread? \"Madam,\" replied he, with a modest air, \"a merchant would\nbe ill-qualified to manage his business if he could not at least\nread and write.\" \"Well, then,\" said she, \"read the words which\nare embroidered on that veil, which gives me an opportunity of\ntelling you my story.\"\n\nGanem took the veil, and read these words, \"I am yours, and you\nare mine, thou descendant from the prophet's uncle.\" That\ndescendant from the prophet's uncle was the caliph Haroon al\nRusheed, who then reigned, and was descended from Abbas,\nMahummud's uncle.\n\nWhen Ganem perceived these words, \"Alas! madam,\" said he, in a\nmelancholy tone, \"I have just saved your life, and this writing\nis my death! I do not comprehend all the mystery; but it\nconvinces me I am the most unfortunate of men. Pardon, madam, the\nliberty I take, but it was impossible for me to see you without\ngiving you my heart. You are not ignorant yourself, that it was\nnot in my power to refuse it you, and that makes my presumption\nexcusable. I proposed to myself to touch your heart by my\nrespectful behaviour, my care, my assiduity, my submission, my\nconstancy; and no sooner have I formed the flattering design,\nthan I am robbed of all my hopes. I cannot long survive so great\na misfortune. But, be that as it will, I shall have the\nsatisfaction of dying entirely yours. Proceed, madam, I conjure\nyou, and give me full information of my unhappy fate.\"\n\nHe could not utter those words without letting fall some tears.\nThe lady was moved; but was so far from being displeased at the\ndeclaration he made, that she felt secret joy; for her heart\nbegan to yield. However, she concealed her feelings, and as if\nshe had not regarded what Ganem had said. \"I should have been\nvery cautious,\" answered she, \"of strewing you my veil, had I\nthought it would have given you so much uneasiness; but I do not\nperceive that what I have to say to you can make your condition\nso deplorable as you imagine.\"\n\n\"You must understand,\" proceeded she, \"in order to acquaint you\nwith my story, that my name is Fetnah (which signifies\ndisturbance), which was given me at my birth, because it was\njudged that the sight of me would one day occasion many\ncalamities. Of this you cannot be ignorant, since there is nobody\nin Bagdad but knows that the caliph, my sovereign lord and yours,\nhas a favourite so called.\n\n\"I was carried into his palace in my tenderest years, and I have\nbeen brought up with all the care that is usually taken with such\npersons of my sex as are destined to reside there. I made no\nlittle progress in all they took the pains to teach me; and that,\nwith some share of beauty, gained me the affection of the caliph,\nwho allotted me a particular apartment adjoining to his own. That\nprince was not satisfied with such a mark of distinction; he\nappointed twenty women to wait on me, and as many eunuchs; and\never since he has made me such considerable presents, that I saw\nmyself richer than any queen in the world. You may judge by what\nI have said, that Zobeide, the caliph's wife and kinswoman, could\nnot but be jealous of my happiness. Though Haroon has all the\nregard imaginable for her, she has taken every possible\nopportunity to ruin me.\n\n\"Hitherto I had secured myself against all her snares, but at\nlength I fell under the last effort of her jealousy; and, had it\nnot been for you, must now have been exposed to inevitable death.\nI question not but she had corrupted one of my slaves, who last\nnight, in some lemonade, gave me a drug, which causes such a dead\nsleep, that it is easy to dispose of those who have taken it; for\nthat sleep is so profound, that nothing can dispel it for the\nspace of seven or eight hours. I have the more reason to judge\nso, because naturally I am a very bad sleeper, and apt to wake at\nthe least noise.\n\n\"Zobeide, the better to put her design in execution, has availed\nherself of the absence of the caliph, who went lately to put\nhimself at the head of his troops, to chastise some neighbouring\nkings, who have formed a league of rebellion. Were it not for\nthis opportunity, my rival, outrageous as she is, durst not have\npresumed to attempt any thing against my life. I know not what\nshe will do to conceal this action from the caliph, but you see\nit highly concerns me that you should keep my secret. My life\ndepends on it. I shall be safe in your house as long as the\ncaliph is from Bagdad. It concerns you to keep my adventure\nprivate; for should Zobeide know the obligation I owe you, she\nwould punish you for having saved me.\n\n\"When the caliph returns, I shall not need to be so much upon my\nguard. I shall find means to acquaint him with all that has\nhappened, and I am fully persuaded he will be more earnest than\nmyself to requite a service which restores me to his love.\"\n\nAs soon as Haroon al Rusheed's beautiful favourite had done\nspeaking, Ganem said, \"Madam, I return you a thousand thanks for\nhaving given me the information I took the liberty to desire of\nyou; and I beg of you to believe, that you are here in safety;\nthe sentiments you have inspired are a pledge of my secrecy.\n\n\"As for my slaves, they may perhaps fail of the fidelity they owe\nme, should they know by what accident and in what place I had the\nhappiness to find you. I dare assure you, however, that they will\nnot have the curiosity to inquire. It is so natural for young men\nto purchase beautiful slaves, that it will be no way surprising\nto them to see you here, believing you to be one, and that I have\nbought you. They will also conclude that I have some particular\nreasons for bringing you home as they saw I did. Set your heart,\ntherefore, at rest, as to that point, and remain satisfied that\nyou shall be served with all the respect that is due to the\nfavourite of so great a monarch as our sovereign the caliph. But\ngreat as he is, give me leave, madam, to declare, that nothing\ncan make me recall the present I have made you of my heart. I\nknow, and shall never forget, \u0091that what belongs to the master is\nforbidden to the slave;' but I loved you before you told me that\nyou were engaged to the caliph; it is not in my power to overcome\na passion which, though now in its infancy, has all the force of\na love strengthened by a perfect of situation. I wish your august\nand most fortunate lover may avenge you of the malice of Zobeide,\nby calling you back to him; and when you shall be restored to his\nwishes, that you may remember the unfortunate Ganem, who is no\nless your conquest than the caliph. Powerful as that prince is, I\nflatter myself he will not be able to blot me out of your\nremembrance. He cannot love you more passionately than I do; and\nI shall never cease to love you into whatever part of the world I\nmay go to expire, after having lost you.\"\n\nFetnah perceived that Ganem was under the greatest of\nafflictions, and his situation affected her; but considering the\nuneasiness she was likely to bring upon herself, by prosecuting\nthe conversation on that subject, which might insensibly lead her\nto discover the inclination she felt for him; \"I perceive,\" said\nshe, \"that this conversetion gives you too much uneasiness; let\nus change the subject, and talk of the infinite obligation I owe\nyou. I can never sufficiently express my gratitude, when I\nreflect that, without your assistance, I should never again have\nbeheld the light of the sun.\"\n\nIt was happy for them both, that somebody just then knocked at\nthe door; Ganem went to see who it was, and found it to be one of\nhis slaves come to acquaint him that the entertainment was ready.\nGanem, who, by way of precaution, would have none of his slaves\ncome into the room where Fetnah was, took what was brought, and\nserved it up himself to his beautiful guest, whose soul was\nravished to behold what attention he paid her.\n\nWhen they had eaten, Ganem took away, as he had covered the\ntable; and having delivered all things at the door of the\napartment to his slaves, \"Madam,\" said he to Fetnah, \"you may now\nperhaps desire to take some rest; I will leave you, and when you\nhave reposed yourself, you shall find me ready to receive your\ncommands.\"\n\nHaving thus spoken, he left her, and went to purchase two women-\nslaves. He also bought two parcels, one of fine linen, and the\nother of all such things as were proper to make up a toilet fit\nfor the caliph's favourite. Having conducted home the two women-\nslaves, he presented them to Fetnah, saying, \"Madam, a person of\nyour quality cannot be without two waiting-maids, at least, to\nserve you; be pleased to accept of these.\"\n\nFetnah, admiring Ganem's attention, said, \"My lord, I perceive\nyou are not one that will do things by halves: you add by your\ncourtesy to the obligations I owe you already; but I hope I shall\nnot die ungrateful, and that heaven will soon place me in a\ncondition to requite all your acts of generosity.\"\n\nWhen the women-slaves were withdrawn into a chamber adjoining, he\nsat down on the sofa, but at some distance from Fetnah, in token\nof respect. He then began to discourse of his passion. \"I dare\nnot so much as hope,\" said he, \"to excite the least sensibility\nin a heart like yours, destined for the greatest prince in the\nworld. Alas! it would be a comfort to me in my misfortune, if I\ncould but flatter myself, that you have not looked upon the\nexcess of my love with indifference.\" \"My lord,\" answered Fetnah\n\"Alas! madam,\" said Ganem, interrupting her at the word lord,\n\"this is the second time you have done me the honour to call me\nlord; the presence of the women-slaves hindered me the first time\nfrom taking notice of it to you: in the name of God, madam, do\nnot give me this title of honour; it does not belong to me; treat\nme, I beseech you, as your slave: I am, and shall never cease to\nbe so.\"\n\n\"No, no,\" replied Fetnah, interrupting him in her turn, \"I shall\nbe cautious how I treat with such disrespect a man to whom I owe\nmy life. I should be ungrateful, could I say or do any thing that\ndid not become you. Leave me, therefore, to follow the dictates\nof my gratitude, and do not require of me, that I should\nmisbehave myself towards you, in return for the benefits I have\nreceived. I shall never be guilty of such conduct; I am too\nsensible of your respectful behaviour to abuse it; and I will not\nhesitate to own, that I do not regard your care with\nindifference. You know the reasons that condemn me to silence.\"\n\nGanem was enraptured at this declaration; he wept for joy, and\nnot being able to find expressions significant enough, in his own\nopinion, to return Fetnah thanks, was satisfied with telling her,\nthat as she knew what she owed to the caliph, he, on his part,\nwas not ignorant \"that what belongs to the master is forbidden to\nthe slave.\"\n\nNight drawing on, he rose up to fetch a light, which he brought\nin himself, as also a collation.\n\nThey both sat down at table, and at first complimented each other\non the fruit as they presented it reciprocally. The excellence of\nthe wine insensibly drew them both to drink; and having drunk two\nor three glasses, they agreed that neither should take another\nglass without first singing some air. Ganem sung verses ex\ntempore, expressive of the vehemence of his passion; and Fetnah,\nencouraged by his example, composed and sung verses relating to\nher adventure, and always containing something which Ganem might\ntake in a sense favourable to himself; except in this, she most\nexactly observed the fidelity due to the caliph. The collation\ncontinued till very late, and the night was far advanced before\nthey thought of parting. Ganem then withdrew to another\napartment, leaving Fetnah where she was, the women slaves he had\nbought coming in to wait upon her.\n\nThey lived together in this manner for several days. The young\nmerchant went not abroad, unless upon of the utmost consequence,\nand even for that took the time when the lady was reposing; for\nhe could not prevail upon himself to lose a moment that might be\nspent in her company. All his thoughts were taken up with his\ndear Fetnah, who, on her side, gave way to her inclination,\nconfessed she had no less affection for him than he had for her.\nHowever, fond as they were of each other, their respect for the\ncaliph kept them within due bounds, which still heightened their\npassion.\n\nWhilst Fetnah, thus snatched from the jaws of death, passed her\ntime so agreeably with Ganem, Zobeide was not without some\napprehensions in the palace of Haroon al Rusheed.\n\nNo sooner had the three slaves, entrusted with the execution of\nher revenge, carried away the chest, without knowing what it\ncontained, or so much as the least curiosity to inquire (being\nused to pay a blind obedience to her commands), than she was\nseized with a tormenting uneasiness; a thousand perplexing\nthoughts disturbed her rest; sleep fled from her eyes, and she\nspent the night in contriving how to conceal her crime. \"My\nconsort,\" said she, \"loves Fetnah more than ever he did any of\nhis favourites. What shall I say to him at his return, when he\ninquires of me after her?\" Many contrivances occurred to her, but\nnone were satisfactory. Still she met with difficulties, and knew\nnot where to fix. There lived with her a lady advanced in years,\nwho had bred her up from her infancy. As soon as it was day, she\nsent for her, and having entrusted her with the secret, said, \"My\ngood mother, you have always assisted me with your advice; if\never I stood in need of it, it is now, when the business before\nyou is to still my thoughts, distracted by a mortal anxiety, and\nto show me some way to satisfy the caliph.\"\n\n\"My dear mistress,\" replied the old lady, \"it had been much\nbetter not to have run yourself into the difficulties you labour\nunder; but since the thing is done, the best consolation is to\nthink no more of it. All that must now be thought of, is how to\ndeceive the commander of the believers; and I am of opinion, that\nyou should immediately cause a wooden image resembling a dead\nbody to be carved. We will shroud it up in linen, and when shut\nup in a coffin, it shall be buried in some part of the palace;\nyou shall then immediately cause a marble mausoleum to be built,\nin the form of a dome, over the burial place, and erect a tomb,\nwhich shall be covered with embroidered cloth, and set about with\ngreat candlesticks and large wax tapers. There is another thing,\"\nadded the old lady, \"which ought not to be forgotten; you must\nput on mourning, and cause the same to be done by your own and\nFetnah's women, your eunuchs, and all the officers of the palace.\nWhen the caliph returns, and sees you all and the palace in\nmourning, he will not fail to ask the occasion of it. You will\nthen have an opportunity of insinuating yourself into his favour,\nby saying, it was out of respect to him that you paid the last\nhonours to Fetnah, snatched away by sudden death. You may tell\nhim, you have caused a mausoleum to be built, and, in short, that\nyou have paid all the last honours to his favourite, as he would\nhave done himself had he been present. His passion for her being\nextraordinary, he will certainly go to shed tears upon her grave;\nand perhaps,\" added the old woman, \u0091`he will not believe she is\nreally dead. He may, possibly, suspect you have turned her out of\nthe palace through jealousy, and look upon all the mourning as an\nartifice to deceive him, and prevent his making inquiries after\nher. It is likely he will cause the coffin to be taken up and\nopened, and it is certain he will be convinced of her death, as\nsoon 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.\nAs for the wooden image, I will myself undertake to have it cut\nby a carver in the city, who shall not know the purpose for which\nit is designed. As for your part, madam, order Fetnah's woman,\nwho yesterday gave her the lemonade, to give out, among her\ncompanions, that she has just found her mistress dead in her bed;\nand in order that they may only think of lamenting, without\noffering to go into her chamber, let her add, she has already\nacquainted you with the circumstance, and that you have ordered\nMesrour to cause her to be buried.\"\n\nAs soon as the old lady had spoken, Zobeide took a rich diamond\nring out of her casket, and putting it on her finger, and\nembracing her in a transport of joy, said, \"How infinitely am I\nbeholden to you, my good mother! I should never have thought of\nso ingenious a contrivance. It cannot fail of success, and I\nbegin to recover my peace. I leave the care of the wooden figure\nto you, and will go myself to order the rest.\"\n\nThe wooden image was got ready with as much expedition as Zobeide\ncould have wished, and then conveyed by the old lady herself into\nFetnah's bed-chamber, where she dressed it like a dead body, and\nput it into a coffin. Then Mesrour, who was himself deceived by\nit, caused the coffin and the representation of Fetnah to be\ncarried away, and buried with the usual ceremonies in the place\nappointed by Zobeide, the favourite's women weeping and\nlamenting, she who had given her the lemonade setting them an\nexample by her cries and lamentations.\n\nThat very day Zobeide sent for the architect of the palace, and,\naccording to orders, the mausoleum was finished in a short time.\nSuch potent princesses as the consort of a monarch, whose power\nextended from east to west, are always punctually obeyed in\nwhatsoever they command. She soon put on mourning with all the\ncourt; so that the news of Fetnah's death was quickly spread over\nthe city.\n\nGanem was one of the last who heard of it; for, as I have before\nobserved, he hardly ever went abroad. Being, however, at length\ninformed of it, \"Madam,\" said he to the caliph's fair favourite,\n\"you are supposed in Bagdad to be dead, and I do not question but\nthat Zobeide herself believes it. I bless heaven that I am the\ncause, and the happy witness of your being alive; would to God,\nthat, taking advantage of this false report, you would share my\nfortune, and go far from hence to reign in my heart! But whither\ndoes this pleasing transport carry me? I do not consider that you\nare born to make the greatest prince in the world happy; and that\nonly Haroon al Rusheed is worthy of you. Supposing you could\nresolve to give him up for me, and that you would follow me,\nought I to consent? No, it is my part always to remember, \u0091that\nwhat belongs to the master is forbidden to the slave.'\"\n\nThe lovely Fetnah, though moved by the tenderness of the passion\nhe expressed, yet prevailed with herself not to encourage it. \"My\nlord,\" said she to him, \"we cannot obstruct the momentary triumph\nof Zobeide. I am not surprised at the artifice she uses to\nconceal her guilt: but let her go on; I flatter myself that\nsorrow will soon follow her triumph. The caliph will return, and\nwe shall find the means privately to inform him of all that has\nhappened. In the mean time let us be more cautious than ever,\nthat she may not know I am alive. I have already told you the\nconsequences to be apprehended from such a discovery.\"\n\nAt the end of three months the caliph returned to Bagdad with\nglory, having vanquished all his enemies. He entered the palace\nwith impatience to embrace Fetnah; but was amazed to see all the\nofficers in mourning; and his concern was redoubled when,\napproaching the apartment of Zobeide, he beheld that princess\ncoming to meet him in mourning with all her women. He immediately\nasked her the cause, with much agitation. \"Commander of the\nbelievers,\" answered Zobeide, \"I am in mourning for your slave\nFetnah; who died so suddenly that it was impossible to apply any\nremedy to her disorder.\" She would have proceeded, but the caliph\ndid not give her time, being so agitated at the news, that he\nuttered a feeble exclamation, and fainted. On recovering himself,\nhe, with a feeble voice, which sufficiently expressed his extreme\ngrief, asked where his dear Fetnah had been buried. \"Sir,\" said\nZobeide, \"I myself took care of her funeral, and spared no cost\nto make it magnificent. I have caused a marble mausoleum to be\nbuilt over her grave, and will attend you thither if you desire.\"\n\nThe caliph would not permit Zobeide to take that trouble, but\ncontented himself to have Mesrour to conduct him. He went thither\njust as he was, in his camp dress. When he saw the tomb, the wax-\nlights round it, and the magnificence of the mausoleum, he was\namazed that Zobeide should have performed the obsequies of her\nrival with so much pomp; and being naturally of a jealous temper,\nsuspected his wife's generosity and fancied his mistress might\nperhaps be yet alive; that Zobeide, taking advantage of his long\nabsence, might have turned her out of the palace, ordering those\nshe had entrusted to conduct her, to convey her so far off that\nshe might never more be heard of. This was all he suspected; for\nhe did not think Zobeide wicked enough to have attempted the life\nof his favourite.\n\nThe better to discover the truth himself, he ordered the tomb to\nbe removed, and caused the grave and the coffin to be opened in\nhis presence; but when he saw the linen wrapped round the wooden\nimage, he durst not proceed any farther. This devout caliph\nthought it would be a sacrilegious act to suffer the body of the\ndead lady to be touched; and this scrupulous fear prevailed over\nhis love and curiosity. He doubted not of Fetnah's death. He\ncaused the coffin to be shut up again, the grave to be filled,\nand the tomb to be made as it was before.\n\nThe caliph thinking himself obliged to pay some respect to the\ngrave of his favourite, sent for the ministers of religion, the\nofficers of the palace, and the readers of the Koraun; and,\nwhilst they were collecting together, he remained in the\nmausoleum, moistening with his tears the marble that covered the\nphantom of his mistress. When all the persons he had sent for\nwere come, he stood before the tomb, and recited long prayers;\nafter which the readers of the Koraun read several, chapters.\n\nThe same ceremony was performed every day for a whole month,\nmorning and evening, the caliph being always present, with the\ngrand vizier, and the principal officers of the court, all of\nthem in mourning, as well as the caliph himself, who all the time\nceased not to honour the memory of Fetnah with his tears, and\nwould not hear of any business.\n\nThe last day of the month, the prayers and reading of the Koraun\nlasted from morning till break of day the next morning. The\ncaliph, being tired with sitting up so long, went to take some\nrest in his apartment, and fell asleep upon a sofa, between two\nof the court ladies, one of them sitting at the bed's-head, and\nthe other at the feet, who, whilst he slept, were working some\nembroidery, and observed a profound silence.\n\nShe who sat at the bed's-head, and whose name was Nouron-Nihar,\nperceiving the caliph was asleep, whispered to the other, called\nNagmatos Sohi,\"There is great news! The commander of the\nbelievers our master will be overjoyed when he awakes, and hears\nwhat I have to tell him; Fetnah is not dead, she is in perfect\nhealth.\" \"O heavens!\" cried Nagmatos Sohi, in a transport of joy,\n\"is it possible, that the beautiful, the charming, the\nincomparable Fetnah should be still among the living?\" She\nuttered these words with so much vivacity, and so loud, that the\ncaliph awoke. He asked why they had disturbed his rest? \"Alas! my\nsovereign lord,\" answered the slave, \"pardon me this\nindiscretion; I could not without transport hear that Fetnah is\nstill alive; it caused such emotion in me, as I could not\nsuppress.\" \"What then is become of her,\" demanded the caliph, \"if\nshe is not dead?\" \"Chief of the believers,\" replied the other, \"I\nthis evening received a note from a person unknown, written with\nFetnah's own hand; she gives me an account of her melancholy\nadventure, and orders me to acquaint you with it. I thought fit,\nbefore I fulfilled my commission, to let you take some few\nmoments' rest, believing you must stand in need of it, after your\nfatigue; and----\"\n\n\"Give me that note,\" said the caliph, interrupting her eagerly,\n\"you were wrong to defer delivering it to me.\"\n\nThe slave immediately presented to him the note, which he opened\nwith much impatience, and in it Fetnah gave a particular account\nof all that had befallen her, but enlarged a little too much on\nthe attentions of Ganem. The caliph, who was naturally jealous,\ninstead of being provoked at the inhumanity of Zobeide, was more\nconcerned at the infidelity he fancied Fetnah had been guilty of\ntowards him. \"Is it so?\" said he, after reading the note; \"the\nperfidious wretch has been four months with a young merchant, and\nhas the effrontery to boast of his attention to her. Thirty days\nare past since my return to Bagdad, and she now thinks of sending\nme news of herself. Ungrateful creature! whilst I spend the days\nin bewailing her, she passes them in betraying me. Go to, let us\ntake vengeance of a bold woman, and that bold youth who affronts\nme.\" Having spoken these words, the caliph rose, and went into a\nhall where he used to appear in public, and give audience to his\ncourt. The first gate was opened, and immediately all the\ncourtiers, who were waiting without, entered. The grand vizier,\ncame in, and prostrated himself before the throne. Then rising,\nhe stood before his master, who, in a tone which denoted he would\nbe instantly obeyed, said to him, \"Jaaffier, your presence is\nrequisite, for putting in execution an important affair I am\nabout to commit to you. Take four hundred men of my guards with\nyou, and first inquire where a merchant of Damascus lives whose\nname is Ganem, the son of Abou Ayoub. When you have learnt this,\nrepair to his house, and cause it to be razed to the foundations;\nbut first secure Ganem, and bring him hither, with my slave\nFetnah, who has lived with him these four months. I will punish\nher, and make an example of that insolent man, who has presumed\nto fail in respell to me.\"\n\nThe grand vizier, having received this positive command, made a\nlow prostration to the caliph, having his hand on his head, in\ntoken that he would rather lose it than disobey him, and\ndeparted. The first thing he did, was to send to the syndic of\nthe dealers in foreign stuffs and silks, with strict orders to\nfind out the house of the unfortunate merchant. The officer he\nsent with these orders brought him back word, that he had\nscarcely been seen for some months, and no man knew what could\nkeep him at home, if he was there. The same officer likewise told\nJaaffier where Ganem lived.\n\nUpon this information, that minister, without losing time, went\nto the judge of the police, whom he caused to bear him company,\nand attended by a great number of carpenters and masons, with the\nnecessary tools for razing a house, came to Ganem's residence;\nand finding it stood detached\n\nfrom any other, he posted his soldiers round it, to prevent the\nyoung merchant's making his escape.\n\nFetnah and Ganem had just dined: the lady was sitting at a window\nnext the street; hearing a noise, she looked out through the\nlattice, and seeing the grand vizier, approach with his\nattendants, concluded she was their object as well as Ganem. She\nperceived her note had been received, but had not expected such a\nconsequence, having hoped that the caliph would have taken the\nmatter in a different light. She knew not how long the prince had\nbeen returned from his campaign, and though she was acquainted\nwith his jealous temper, yet apprehended nothing on that account.\nHowever, the sight of the grand vizier, and the soldiers made her\ntremble, not indeed for herself, but for Ganem: she did not\nquestion clearing herself, provided the caliph would but hear\nher. As for Ganem, whom she loved less out of gratitude than\ninclination, she plainly foresaw that his incensed rival might be\napt to condemn him, on account of his youth and person. Full of\nthis thought, she turned to the young merchant and said, \"Alas!\nGanem, we are undone.\" Ganem looked through the lattice, and was\nseized with dread, when he beheld the caliph's guards with their\nnaked cimeters, and the grand vizier, with the civil magistrate\nat the head of them. At this sight he stood motionless, and had\nnot power to utter one word. \"Ganem,\" said the favourite, \"there\nis no time to be lost; if you love me, put on the habit of one of\nyour slaves immediately, and disfigure your face and arms with\nsoot. Then put some of these dishes on your head; you may be\ntaken for a servant belonging to the eating house, and they will\nlet you pass. If they happen to ask you where the master of the\nhouse is, answer, without any hesitation, that he is within.\"\n\"Alas! madam,\" answered Harem, concerned for himself than for\nFetnah, \"you only take care of me, what will become of you?\" \"Let\nnot that trouble you,\" replied Fetnah, \"it is my part to look to\nthat. As for what you leave in this house, I will take care of\nit, and I hope it will be one day faithfully restored to you,\nwhen the caliph's anger shall be over; but at present avoid his\nfury. The orders he gives in the heat of passion are always\nfatal.\" The young merchant's affliction was so great, that he\nknew not what course to pursue, and would certainly have suffered\nhimself to be seized by the caliph's soldiers, had not Fetnah\npressed him to disguise himself. He submitted to her persuasions,\nput on the habit of a slave, daubed himself with soot, and as\nthey were knocking at the door, all they could do was to embrace\neach other tenderly. They were both so overwhelmed with sorrow,\nthat they could not utter a word. Thus they parted. Ganem went\nout with some dishes on his head: he was taken for the servant of\nan eating-house, and no one offered to stop him. On the contrary,\nthe grand vizier, who was the first that met him, gave way and\nlet him pass, little thinking that he was the man he looked for.\nThose who were behind the grand vizier, made way as he had done,\nand thus favoured his escape He soon reached one of the gates,\nand got clear of the city.\n\nWhilst he was making the best of his way from the grand vizier,\nthat minister came into the room where Fetnah was sitting on a\nsofa, and where there were many chests full of Ganem's clothes,\nand of the money he had made of his goods.\n\nAs soon as Fetnah saw the grand vizier, come into the room, she\nfell upon her face, and continuing in that posture, as it were to\nreceive her death; \"My lord,\" said she, \"I am ready to undergo\nthe sentence passed against me by the commander of the believers;\nyou need only make it known to me.\" \"Madam,\" answered Jaaffier,\nfalling also down till she had raised herself, \"God forbid any\nman should presume to lay profane hands on you. I do not intend\nto offer you the least harm. I have no farther orders, than to\nintreat you will be pleased to go with me to the palace, and to\nconduct you thither, with the merchant that lives in this house.\"\n\"My lord,\" replied the favourite, \"let us go; I am ready to\nfollow you. As for the young merchant, to whom I am indebted for\nmy life, he is not here, he has been gone about a month since to\nDamascus, whither his business called him, and has left these\nchests you see under my care, till he returns. I conjure you to\ncause them to be carried to the palace, and order them to be\nsecured, that I may perform the promise I made him to take all\npossible care of them.\"\n\n\"You shall be obeyed,\" said Jaaffier, and immediately sent for\nporters, whom he commanded to take up the chests, and carry them\nto Mesrour.\n\nAs soon as the porters were gone, he whispered the civil\nmagistrate, committing to him the care of seeing the house razed,\nbut first to cause diligent search to be made for Ganem, who, he\nsuspected, might be hidden, notwithstanding what Fetnah had told\nhim. He then went out, taking her with him, attended by the two\nslaves who waited on her. As for Ganem's slaves, they were not\nregarded; they ran in among the crowd, and it was not known what\nbecame of them.\n\nNo sooner was Jaaffier out of the house, than the masons and\ncarpenters began to demolish it, and did their business so\neffectually, that in a few hours none of it remained. But the\ncivil magistrate, not finding Ganem, after the strictest search,\nsent to acquaint the grand vizier, before that minister reached\nthe palace. \"Well,\" said Haroon al Rusheed, seeing him come into\nhis closet, \"have you executed my orders?\" \"Yes,\" answered\nJaaffier \"the house Ganem lived in is levelled with the ground,\nand I have brought you your favourite Fetnah; she is at your\ncloset door, and I will call her in, if you command me. As for\nthe young merchant, we could not find him, though every place has\nbeen searched, and Fetnah affirms that he has been gone a month\nto Damascus.\"\n\nNever was passion equal to that of the caliph, when he heard that\nGanem had made his escape. As for his favourite, believing that\nshe had been false to him, he would neither see nor speak to her.\n\"Mesrour,\" said he to the chief of the eunuchs, who was then\npresent, \"take the ungrateful and perfidious Fetnah, and shut her\nup in the dark tower.\" That tower was within the precinct of the\npalace, and commonly served as a prison for the favourites who\nany way offended the caliph.\n\nMesrour being used to execute his sovereign's orders, however\nunjust, without making any answer, obeyed this with some\nreluctance. He signified his concern to Fetnah, who was the more\ngrieved because she had assured herself, that the caliph would\nnot refuse to speak to her. She was obliged to submit to her hard\nfate, and to follow Mesrour, who conducted her to the dark tower,\nand there left her.\n\nIn the mean time, the enraged caliph dismissed his grand vizier,\nand only hearkening to his passion, wrote the following letter\nwith his own hand to the king of Syria, his cousin and tributary,\nwho resided at Damascus.\n\n\"This letter is to inform you, that a merchant of Damascus, whose\nname is Ganem, the son of Abou Ayoub, has seduced the most\namiable of my women slaves, called Fetnah, and is fled. It is my\nwill, that when you have read my letter, you cause search to be\nmade for Ganem, and secure him. When he is in your power, you\nshall cause him to be loaded with irons, and for three days\nsuccessively let him receive fifty strokes of the bastinado. Then\nlet him be led through all parts of the city by a crier,\nproclaiming, \u0091This is the smallest punishment the commander of\nthe believers inflicts on him that offends his lord, and\ndebauches one of his slaves.' After that you shall send him to me\nunder a strong guard. It is my will that you cause his house to\nbe plundered; and after it has been razed, order the materials to\nbe carried out of the city into the middle of the plain. Besides\nthis, if he has father, mother, sister, wives, daughters, or\nother kindred, cause them to be stripped; and when they are\nnaked, expose them three days to the whole city, forbidding any\nperson on pain of death to afford them shelter. I expect you will\nwithout delay execute my command.\"\n\nThe caliph having written this letter, dispatched it by an\nexpress, ordering him to make all possible speed, and to take\npigeons along with him, that he might the sooner hear what had\nbeen done by Mahummud Zinebi.\n\nThe pigeons of Bagdad have this peculiar quality, that from\nwherever they may be carried to, they return to Bagdad as soon as\nthey are set at liberty, especially when they have young ones. A\nletter rolled up is made fast under their wing, and by that means\nadvice is speedily received from such places as it is desired.\n\nThe caliph's courier travelled night and day, as his master's\nimpatience required; and being come to Damascus, went directly to\nking Zinebi's palace, who sat upon his throne to receive the\ncaliph's letter. The courier having delivered it, Mahummud\nlooking at it, and knowing the hand, stood up to shew his\nrespect, kissed the letter, and laid it on his head, to denote he\nwas ready submissively to obey the orders it contained. He opened\nit, and having read it, immediately descended from his throne,\nand without losing time, mounted on horseback with the principal\nofficers of his household. He sent for the civil magistrate; and\nwent directly to Ganem's house, attended by all his guards.\n\nGanem's mother had never received any letter from him since he\nhad left Damascus; but the other merchants with whom he went to\nBagdad were returned, and all of them told her they had left her\nson in perfect however, seeing he did not return, she could not\nbut be persuaded that he was dead, and was so fully convinced of\nthis in her imagination, that she went into mourning. She\nbewailed Ganem as if she had seen him die, and had herself closed\nhis eyes: never mother expressed greater sorrow; and so far was\nshe from seeking any comfort, that she delighted in indulging her\ngrief. She had caused a dome to be built in the middle of the\ncourt belonging to her house, in which she placed a tomb. She\nspent the greatest part of the days and nights in weeping under\nthat dome, as if her son had been buried there: her daughter bore\nher company, and mixed her tears with hers.\n\nIt was now some time since they had thus devoted themselves to\nsorrow, and the neighbourhood, hearing their cries and\nlamentations, pitied such tender relations, when king Mahummud\nZinebi knocked at the door, which being opened by a slave\nbelonging to the family, he hastily entered the house, inquiring\nfor Ganem, the son of Abou Ayoub.\n\nThough the slave had never seen king Zinebi, she guessed by his\nretinue that he must be one of the principal officers of\nDamascus. \"My lord,\" said she, \"that Ganem you inquire for is\ndead; my mistress, his mother, is in that monument, lamenting\nhim.\" The king, not regarding what was said by the slave, caused\nall the house to be diligently searched by his guards for Ganem.\nHe then advanced towards the monument, where he saw the mother\nand daughter sitting on a mat, and their faces appeared to him\nbathed in tears. These poor women immediately veiled themselves,\nas soon as they beheld a man at the door of the dome; but the\nmother, knowing the king of Damascus, got up, and ran to cast\nherself at his feet. \"My good lady,\" said he, \"I was looking for\nyour son, Ganem, is he here?\" \"Alas! sir,\" cried the mother, \"it\nis a long time since he has ceased to be: would to God I had at\nleast put him into his coffin with my own hands, and had had the\ncomfort of having his bones in this monument! O my son, my dear\nson!\" She would have said more, but was oppressed with such\nviolent sorrow that she was unable to proceed.\n\nZinebi was moved; for he was a prince of a mild nature, and had\nmuch compassion for the sufferings of the unfortunate. \"If Ganem\nalone be guilty,\" thought he to himself, \"why should the mother\nand the daughter, who are innocent, be punished? Ah! cruel Haroon\nal Rusheed! what a mortification do you put upon me, in making me\nthe executioner of your vengeance, obliging me to persecute\npersons who have not offended you.\"\n\nThe guards whom the king had ordered to search for Ganem, came\nand told him their search had been vain. He was fully convinced\nof this; the tears of those two women would not leave him any\nroom to doubt. It distracted him to be obliged to execute the\ncaliph's order. \"My good lady,\" said he to Ganem's mother, \"quit\nthis monument with your daughter, it is no place of safety for\nyou.\" They went out, and he, to secure them against any insult,\ntook off his own robe, and covered them both with it, bidding\nthem keep close to him. He then ordered the populace to be let in\nto plunder, which was performed with the utmost rapaciousness,\nand with shouts which terrified Ganem's mother and sister the\nmore, because they knew not the reason. The rabble carried off\nthe richest goods, chests full of wealth, fine Persian and Indian\ncarpets, cushions covered with cloth of gold and silver, fine\nChina ware; in short, all was taken away, till nothing remained\nbut the bare walls of the house: and it was a dismal spectacle\nfor the unhappy ladies, to see all their goods plundered, without\nknowing why they were so cruelly treated.\n\nWhen the house was plundered, Mahummud ordered the civil\nmagistrate to raze the house and monument; and while that was\ndoing, he carried away the mother and daughter to his palace.\nThere it was he redoubled their affliction, by acquainting them\nwith the caliph's will. \"He commands me,\" said he to them, \"to\ncause you to be stripped, and exposed naked for three days to the\nview of the people. It is with the utmost reluctance that I\nexecute such a cruel and ignominious sentence.\" The king\ndelivered these words with such an air, as plainly made it appear\nhis heart was really pierced with grief and compassion. Though\nthe fear of being dethroned prevented his following the dictates\nof his pity, yet he in some measure moderated the rigour of the\ncaliph's orders, by causing large shifts, without sleeves, to be\nmade of coarse horse-hair for Ganem's mother, and his sister.\n\nThe next day, these two victims of the caliph's rage were\nstripped of their clothes, and their horse-hair shifts put upon\nthem; their head-dress was also taken away, so that their\ndishevelled hair hung floating on their backs. The daughter had\nthe finest hair, and it hung down to the ground. In this\ncondition they were exposed to the people. The civil magistrate,\nattended by his officers, were along with them, and they were\nconducted through the city. A crier went before them, who every\nnow and then cried, \"This is the punishment due to those who have\ndrawn on themselves the indignation of the commander of the\nbelievers.\"\n\nWhilst they walked in this manner along the streets of Damascus,\nwith their arms and feet naked, clad in such a strange garment,\nand endeavouring to hide their confusion under their hair, with\nwhich they covered their faces, all the people were dissolved in\ntears; more especially the ladies, considering them as innocent\npersons, as they beheld them through their lattice windows, and\nbeing particularly moved by the daughter's youth and beauty, they\nmade the air ring with their shrieks, as they passed before their\nhouses. The very children, frightened at those shrieks, and at\nthe spectacle that occasioned them, mixed their cries with the\ngeneral lamentation. In short, had an enemy been in Damascus,\nputting all to fire and sword, the consternation could not have\nbeen greater.\n\nIt was near night when this dismal scene concluded. The mother\nand daughter were both conducted back to king Mahummud's palace.\nNot being used to walk bare-foot, they were so spent, that they\nlay a long time in a swoon. The queen of Damascus, highly\nafflicted at their misfortunes, notwithstanding the caliph's\nprohibition to relieve them, sent some of her women to comfort\nthem, with all sorts of refreshments and wine, to recover their\nspirits.\n\nThe queen's women found them still in a swoon, and almost past\nreceiving any benefit by what they offered them. However, with\nmuch difficulty they were brought to themselves. Ganem's mother\nimmediately returned them thanks for their courtesy. \"My good\nmadam,\" said one of the queen's ladies to her, \"we are highly\nconcerned at your affliction, and the queen of Syria, our\nmistress, has done us a favour in employing us to assist you. We\ncan assure you, that princess is much afflicted at your\nmisfortunes, as well as the king her consort.\" Ganem's mother\nentreated the queen's women to return her majesty a thousand\nthanks from her and her daughter, and then directing her\ndiscourse to the lady who spoke to her, \"Madam,\" said she, \"the\nking has not told me why the chief of the believers inflicts so\nmany outrages on us: pray be pleased to tell us what crimes we\nhave been guilty of.\" \"My good lady,\" answered the other, \"the\norigin of your misfortunes proceeds from your son Ganem. He is\nnot dead, as you imagine. He is accused of having seduced the\nbeautiful Fetnah, the best beloved of the caliph's favourites;\nbut having, by flight, withdrawn himself from that prince's\nindignation, the punishment is fallen on you. All condemn the\ncaliph's resentment, but all fear him; and you see king Zinebi\nhimself dares not resist his orders, for fear of incurring his\ndispleasure. All we can do is to pity you, and exhort you to have\npatience.\"\n\n\"I know my son,\" answered Ganem's mother; \"I have educated him\ncarefully, and in that respect which is due to the commander of\nthe believers. He cannot have committed the crime he is accused\nof; I dare answer for his innocence. But I will cease to murmur\nand complain, since it is for him that I suffer, and he is not\ndead. O Ganem!\" added she, in a transport of affection and joy,\n\"my dear son Ganem! is possible that you are still alive? I am no\nlonger concerned for the loss of my fortune; and how harsh and\nunjust soever the caliph's orders may be, I forgive him, provided\nheaven has preserved my son. I am only concerned for my daughter;\nher sufferings alone afflict me; yet I believe her to be so good\na sister as to follow my example.\"\n\nOn hearing these words, the young lady, who till then had\nappeared insensible, turned to her mother, and clasping her arms\nabout her neck, \"Yes, dear mother,\" said she, \"I will always\nfollow your example, whatever extremity your love for my brother\nmay reduce us to.\"\n\nThe mother and daughter thus interchanging their sighs and tears,\ncontinued a considerable time in such moving embraces. In the\nmean time the queen's women, who were much affected at the\nspectacle, omitted no persuasions to prevail with Ganem's mother\nto take some sustenance. She ate a morsel out of complaisance,\nand her daughter did the like.\n\nThe caliph having ordered that Ganem's kindred should be exposed\nthree days successively to the sight of the people, in the\ncondition already mentioned, the unhappy ladies afforded the same\nspectacle the second time next day, from morning till night. But\nthat day and the following, the streets, which at first had been\nfull of people, were now quite empty. All the merchants, incensed\nat the ill usage of Abou Ayoub's widow and daughter, shut up\ntheir shops, and kept themselves close within their houses. The\nladies, instead of looking through their lattice windows,\nwithdrew into the back parts of their houses. There was not a\nperson to be seen in the public places through which those\nunfortunate women were carried. It seemed as if all the\ninhabitants of Damascus had abandoned their city.\n\nOn the fourth day, the king resolving punctually to obey the\ncaliph's orders, though he did not approve of them, sent criers\ninto all quarters of the city to make proclamation, strictly\ncommanding all the inhabitants of Damascus, and strangers, of\nwhat condition soever, upon pain of death, and having their\nbodies cast to the dogs to be devoured, not to receive Ganem's\nmother and sister into their houses, or give them a morsel of\nbread or a drop of water, and, in a word, not to afford them the\nleast support, or hold the least correspondence with them.\n\nWhen the criers had performed what the king had enjoined them,\nthat prince ordered the mother and the daughter to be turned out\nof the palace, and left to their choice to go where they thought\nfit. As soon as they appeared, all persons fled from them, so\ngreat an impression had the late prohibition made upon all. They\neasily perceived that every body shunned them; but not knowing\nthe reason, were much surprised; and their amazement was the\ngreater, when coming into any street, or among any persons, they\nrecollected some of their best friends, who immediately retreated\nwith as much haste as the rest. \"What is the meaning of this,\"\nsaid Ganem's mother; \"do we carry the plague about us? Must the\nunjust and barbarous usage we have received render us odious to\nour fellow-citizens? Come, my child,\" added she, \"let us depart\nfrom Damascus with all speed; let us not stay any longer in a\ncity where we are become frightful to our very friends.\"\n\nThe two wretched ladies, discoursing in this manner, came to one\nof the extremities of the city, and retired to a ruined house to\npass the night. Thither some Mussulmauns, out of charity and\ncompassion, resorted to them after the day was shut in. They\ncarried them provisions, but durst not stay to comfort them, for\nfear of being discovered, and punished for disobeying the\ncaliph's orders.\n\nIn the mean time king Zinebi had let fly a pigeon to give the\ncaliph an account of his exact obedience. He informed him of all\nthat had been executed, and conjured him to direct what he would\nhave done with Ganem's mother and sister. He soon received the\ncaliph's answer in the same way, which was, that he should banish\nthem from Damascus for ever. Immediately the king of Syria sent\nmen to the old house, with orders to take the mother and\ndaughter, and to conduct them three days' journey from Damascus,\nand there to leave them, forbidding them ever to return to the\ncity.\n\nZinebi's men executed their commission, but being less exact\ntheir master, in the strict performance of the caliph's orders,\nthey in pity gave the wretched ladies some small pieces of money,\nand each of them a scrip, which they hung about their necks, to\ncarry their provisions.\n\nIn this miserable state they came to the first village. The\npeasants' wives flocked about them, and, as it appeared through\ntheir disguise that they were people of some condition, asked\nthem what was the occasion of their travelling in a habit that\ndid not seem to belong to them. Instead of answering the\nquestion, they fell to weeping, which only served to heighten the\ncuriosity of the peasants, and to move their compassion. Ganem's\nmother told them what she and her daughter had endured; at which\nthe good countrywomen were sensibly afflicted, and endeavoured to\ncomfort them. They treated them as well as their poverty would\npermit, took off their horse-hair shifts, which were very uneasy\nto them, and put on them others which they gave them, with shoes,\nand something to cover their heads, and save their hair.\n\nHaving expressed their gratitude to those charitable women, Jalib\nal Koolloob and her mother departed from that village, taking\nshort journeys towards Aleppo. They used at dusk to retire near\nor into the mosques, where they passed the night on the mat, if\nthere was any, or else on the bare pavement; and sometimes rested\nin the public places appointed for the use of travellers. As for\nsustenance, they did not want, for they often came to places\nwhere bread, boiled rice, and other provisions are distributed to\nall travellers who desire it.\n\nAt length they came to Aleppo, but would not stay there, and\ncontinuing their journey towards the Euphrates, crossed the\nriver, and entered Mesopotamia, which they traversed as far as\nMoussoul. Thence, notwithstanding all they had endured, they\nproceeded to Bagdad. That was the place they had fixed their\nthoughts upon, hoping to find Ganem, though they ought not to\nhave fancied that he was in a city where the caliph resided; but\nthey hoped, because they wished it; their affection for him\nincreasing instead of diminishing, with their misfortunes. Their\nconversation was generally about him, and they inquired for him\nof all they met. But let us leave Jalib al Koolloob and her\nmother, and return to Fetnah.\n\nShe was still confined closely in the dark tower, since the day\nthat had been so fatal to Ganem and herself. However,\ndisagreeable as her prison was to her, it was much less grievous\nthan the thoughts of Ganem's misfortune, the uncertainty of whose\nfate was a killing affliction. There was scarcely a moment in\nwhich she did not lament him.\n\nThe caliph was accustomed to walk frequently at night within the\nenclosure of his palace, for he was the most inquisitive prince\nin the world, and sometimes, by those night-walks, came to the\nknowledge of things that happened in his court, which would\notherwise never have reached his ear. One of those nights, in his\nwalk, he happened to pass by the dark tower, and fancying he\nheard somebody talk, stops, and drawing near the door to listen,\ndistinctly heard these words, which Fetnah, whose thoughts were\nalways on Ganem, uttered with a loud voice: \"O Ganem, too\nunfortunate Ganem! where are you at this time, whither has thy\ncruel fate led thee? Alas! it is I that have made you wretched!\nwhy did you not let me perish miserably, rather than afford me\nyour generous relief? What melancholy return have you received\nfor your care and respect? The commander of the faithful, who\nought to have rewarded, persecutes you; and in requital for\nhaving always regarded me as a person reserved for his bed, you\nlose your fortune, and are obliged to seek for safety in flight.\nO caliph, barbarous caliph, how can you exculpate yourself, when\nyou shall appear with Ganem before the tribunal of the Supreme\nJudge, and the angels shall testify the truth before your face?\nAll the power you are now invested with, and which makes almost\nthe whole world tremble, will not prevent your being condemned\nand punished for your violent and unjust proceedings.\" Here\nFetnah ceased her complaints, her sighs and tears putting a stop\nto her utterance.\n\nThis was enough to make the caliph reflect. He plainly perceived,\nthat if what he had heard was true, his favourite must be\ninnocent, and that he had been too hasty in giving such orders\nagainst Ganem and his family. Being resolved to be rightly\ninformed in an affair which so nearly concerned him in point of\nequity, on which he valued himself, he immediately returned to\nhis apartment, and that moment ordered Mesrour to repair to the\ndark tower, and bring Fetnah before him.\n\nBy this command, and much more by the caliph's manner of\nspeaking, the chief of the eunuchs guessed that his master\ndesigned to pardon his favourite, and take her to him again. He\nwas overjoyed at the thought, for he respected Fetnah, and had\nbeen much concerned at her disgrace; therefore flying instantly\nto the tower, \"Madam,\" said he to the favourite, with such an air\nas expressed his satisfaction, \"be pleased to follow me; I hope\nyou will never more return to this melancholy abode: the\ncommander of the faithful wishes to speak with you, and I draw\nfrom this a happy omen.\"\n\nFetnah followed Mesrour, who conducted her into the caliph's\ncloset. She prostrated herself before him, and so continued, her\nface bathed in tears. \"Fetnah,\" said the caliph, without bidding\nher rise, \"I think you charge me with violence and injustice. Who\nis he, that, notwithstanding the regard and respell he had for\nme, is in a miserable condition? Speak freely, you know the\nnatural goodness of my disposition, and that I love to do\njustice.\"\n\nBy these words the favourite was convinced that the caliph had\nheard what she had said, and availed herself of so favourable an\nopportunity to clear Ganem. \"Commander of the true believers,\"\nsaid she, \"if I have let fall any word that is not agreeable to\nyour majesty, I most humbly beseech you to forgive me; but he\nwhose innocence and wretched state you desire to be informed of\nis Ganem, the unhappy son of Abou Ayoub, late a rich merchant of\nDamascus. He saved my life from a grave, and afforded me a\nsanctuary in his house. I must own, that, from the first moment\nhe saw me, he perhaps designed to devote himself to me, and\nconceived hopes of engaging me to admit his love. I guessed at\nthis, by the eagerness which he shewed in entertaining me, and\ndoing me all the good offices I so much wanted under the\ncircumstances I was then in; but as soon as he heard that I had\nthe honour to belong to you, \u0091Ah, madam,' said he, \u0091that which\nbelongs to the master is forbidden to the slave.' From that\nmoment, I owe this justice to his virtue to declare, his\nbehaviour was always suitable to his words. You, commander of the\ntrue believers, well know with what rigour you have treated him,\nand you will answer for it before the tribunal of God.\"\n\nThe caliph was not displeased with Fetnah for the freedom of\nthese words; \"But may I,\" said he, \"rely on the assurance you\ngive me of Ganem's virtue?\" \"Yes,\" replied Fetnah, \"you may. I\nwould not for the world conceal the truth from you; and to prove\nto you that I am sincere, I must make a confession, which perhaps\nmay displease you, but I beg pardon of your majesty beforehand.\"\n\"Speak, daughter,\" said Haroon al Rusheed, \"I forgive you all,\nprovided you conceal nothing from me.\" \"Well, then,\" replied\nFetnah, \"let me inform you, that Ganem's respectful behaviour,\njoined to all the good offices he did me, gained him my esteem. I\nwent further yet: you know the tyranny of love: I felt some\ntender inclination rising in my breast. He perceived it; but far\nfrom availing himself of my frailty, and notwithstanding the\nflame which consumed him, he still remained steady in his duty,\nand all that his passion could force from him were the words I\nhave already repeated to your majesty, \u0091That which belongs to the\nmaster is forbidden to the slave.'\"\n\nThis ingenuous confession might have provoked any other man than\nthe caliph; but it completely appeased that prince. He commanded\nher to rise, and making her sit by him, \"Tell me your story,\"\nsaid he, \"from the beginning to the end.\" She did so, with\nartless simplicity, passing slightly over what regarded Zobeide,\nand enlarging on the obligations she owed to Ganem; but above\nall, she highly extolled his discretion, endeavouring by that\nmeans to make the caliph sensible that she had been under the\nnecessity of remaining concealed in Ganem's house, to deceive\nZobeide. She concluded with the young merchant's escape, which\nshe plainly told the caliph she had compelled him to, that he\nmight avoid his indignation.\n\nWhen she had done speaking, the caliph said to her, \"I believe\nall you have told me; but why was it so long before you let me\nhear from you? Was there any need of staying a whole month after\nmy return, before you sent me word where you were?\" \"Commander of\nthe true believers,\" answered Fetnah, \"Ganem went abroad so very\nseldom, that you need not wonder we were not the first that heard\nof your return. Besides, Ganem, who took upon him to deliver the\nletter I wrote to Nouron Nihar, was a long time before he could\nfind an opportunity of putting it into her own hands.\"\n\n\"It is enough, Fetnah,\" replied the caliph; \"I acknowledge my\nfault, and would willingly make amends for it, by heaping favours\non the young merchant of Damascus. Consider, therefore, what I\ncan do for him. Ask what you think fit, and I will grant it.\"\nHereupon the favourite fell down at the caliph's feet, with her\nface to the ground; and rising again, said, \"Commander of the\ntrue believers, after returning your majesty thanks for Ganem, I\nmost humbly entreat you to cause it to be published throughout\nyour do minions, that you pardon the son of Abou Ayoub, and that\nhe may safely come to you.\" \"I must do more,\" rejoined the\nprince, \"in requital for having saved your life, and the respect\nhe has strewn for me, to make amends for the loss of his fortune.\nIn short, to repair the wrong I have done to himself and his\nfamily, I give him to you for a husband.\" Fetnah had no words\nexpressive enough to thank the caliph for his generosity: she\nthen withdrew into the apartment she had occupied before her\nmelancholy adventure. The same furniture was still in it, nothing\nhad been removed; but that which pleased her most was, to find\nGanem's chests and bales, which Mesrour had received the caliph's\norders to convey thither.\n\nThe next day Haroon al Rusheed ordered the grand vizier, to cause\nproclamation to be made throughout all his dominions, that he\npardoned Ganem the son of Abou Ayoub; but this proved of no\neffect, for a long time elapsed without any news of the young\nmerchant. Fetnah concluded, that he had not been able to survive\nthe pain of losing her. A dreadful uneasiness seized her mind;\nbut as hope is the last thing which forsakes lovers, she\nentreated the caliph to give her leave to seek for Ganem herself;\nwhich being granted, she took a purse containing a thousand\npieces of gold, and went one morning out of the palace, mounted\non a mule from the caliph's stables, very richly caparisoned.\nBlack eunuchs attended her, with a hand placed on each side of\nthe mule's back.\n\nThus she went from mosque to mosque, bestowing her alms among the\ndevotees of the Mahummedan religion, desiring their prayers for\nthe accomplishment of an affair, on which the happiness of two\npersons, she told them, depended. She spend the whole day and the\nthousand pieces of gold in giving alms at the mosques, and\nreturned to the palace in the evening.\n\nThe next day she took another purse of the same value, and in the\nlike equipage as the day before, went to the square of the\njewellers' shops, and stopping at the gateway without alighting,\nsent one of her black eunuchs for the syndic or chief of them.\nThe syndic, who was a most charitable man, and spent above two-\nthirds of his income in relieving poor strangers, sick or in\ndistress, did not make Fetnah wait, knowing by her dress that she\nwas a lady belonging to the palace. \"I apply myself to you,\" said\nshe, putting the purse into his hands, \"as a person whose piety\nis celebrated throughout the city. I desire you to distribute\nthat gold among the poor strangers you relieve, for I know you\nmake it your business to assist those who apply to your charity.\nI am also satisfied that you prevent their wants, and that\nnothing is more grateful to you, than to have an opportunity of\nrelieving their misery.\" \"Madam,\" answered the syndic, \"I shall\nobey your commands with pleasure; but if you desire to exercise\nyour charity in person, and will be pleased to step to my house,\nyou will there see two women worthy of your compassion; I met\nthem yesterday as they were coming into the city; they were in a\ndeplorable condition, and it moved me the more, because I thought\nthey were persons of rank. Through all the rags that covered\nthem, notwithstanding the impression the sun has made on their\nfaces, I discovered a noble air, not to be commonly found in\nthose people I relieve. I carried them both to my house, and\ndelivered them to my wife, who was of the same opinion with me.\nShe caused her slaves to provide them good beds, whilst she\nherself led them to our warm bath, and gave them clean linen. We\nknow not as yet who they are, because we wish to let them take\nsome rest before we trouble them with our questions.\"\n\nFetnah, without knowing why, felt a curiosity to see them. The\nsyndic would have conducted her to his house, but she would not\ngive him the trouble, and was satisfied that a slave should shew\nher the way. She alighted at the door, and followed the syndic's\nslave, who was gone before to give notice to his mistress, she\nbeing then in the chamber with Jalib al Koolloob and her mother,\nfor they were the persons the syndic had been speaking of to\nFetnah.\n\nThe syndic's wife being informed by the slave, that a lady from\nthe palace was in her house, was hastening to meet her; but\nFetnah, who had followed the slave, did not give her time: on her\ncoming into the chamber, the syndic's wife prostrated herself\nbefore her, to express the respect she had for all who belonged\nto the caliph. Fetnah raised her up, and said, \"My good lady, I\ndesire you will let me speak with those two strangers that\narrived at Bagdad last night.\" \"Madam,\" answered the syndic's\nwife, \"they lie in those beds you see by each other.\" The\nfavourite immediately drew near the mother's, and viewing her\ncarefully, \"Good woman,\" said she, \"I come to offer you my\nassistance: I have considerable interest in this city, and may be\nof service to you and your companion.\" \"Madam,\" answered Ganem's\nmother, \"I perceive by your obliging offers, that Heaven has not\nquite forsaken us, though we had cause to believe it had, after\nso many misfortunes as have befallen us.\" Having uttered these\nwords, she wept so bitterly that Fetnah and the syndic's wife\ncould not forbear letting fall some tears.\n\nThe caliph's favourite having dried up hers, said to Ganem's\nmother, \"Be so kind as to tell us your misfortunes, and recount\nyour story. You cannot make the relation to any persons better\ndisposed to use all possible means to comfort you.\" \"Madam,\"\nreplied Abou Ayoub's disconsolate widow, \"a favourite of the\ncommander of the true believers, a lady whose name is Fetnah, is\nthe occasion of all our misfortunes.\" These words were like a\nthunderbolt to the favourite; but suppressing her agitation and\nconcern, she suffered Ganem's mother to proceed in the following\nmanner: \"I am the widow of Abou Ayoub, a merchant of Damascus; I\nhad a son called Ganem, who, coming to trade at Bagdad, has been\naccused of carrying off Fetnah. The caliph caused search to be\nmade for him every where, to put him to death; but not finding\nhim, he wrote to the king of Damascus, to cause our house to be\nplundered and razed, and to expose my daughter and myself three\ndays successively, naked, to the populace, and then to banish us\nout of Syria for ever. But how unworthy soever our usage has\nbeen, I should be still comforted were my son alive, and I could\nmeet with him. What a pleasure would it be for his sister and me\nto see him again! Embracing him we should forget the loss of our\nproperty, and all the evils we have suffered on his account.\nAlas! I am fully persuaded he is only the innocent cause of them;\nand that he is no more guilty towards the caliph than his sister\nand myself.\"\n\n\"No doubt of it,\" said Fetnah, interrupting her there, \"he is no\nmore guilty than you are; I can assure you of his innocence; for\nI am that very Fetnah, you so much complain of; who, through some\nfatality in my stars, have occasioned you so many misfortunes. To\nme you must impute the loss of your son, if he is no more; but if\nI have occasioned your misfortune, I can in some measure relieve\nit. I have already justified Ganem to the caliph; who has caused\nit to be proclaimed throughout his dominions, that he pardons the\nson of Abou Ayoub; and doubt not he will do you as much good as\nhe has done you injury. You are no longer his enemies. He waits\nfor Ganem, to requite the service he has done me, by uniting our\nfortunes; he gives me to him for his consort, therefore look on\nme as your daughter, and permit me to vow eternal duty and\naffection.\" \"Having so said, she bowed down on Ganem's mother,\nwho was so astonished that she could return no answer. Fetnah\nheld her long in her arms, and only left her to embrace the\ndaughter, who, sitting up, held out her arms to receive her.\n\nWhen the caliph's favourite had strewn the mother and daughter\nall tokens of affection, as Ganem's wife, she said to them, \"The\nwealth Ganem had in this city is not lost, it is in my apartment\nin the palace; but I know all the treasure of the world cannot\ncomfort you without Ganem, if I may judge of you by myself. Blood\nis no less powerful than love in great minds; but why should we\ndespair of seeing him again? We shall find him; the happiness of\nmeeting with you makes me conceive fresh hopes. Perhaps this is\nthe last day of your sufferings, and the beginning of a greater\nfelicity than you enjoyed in Damascus, when Ganem was with you.\"\n\nFetnah would have proceeded, but the syndic of the jewellers\ncoming in interrupted her: \"Madam,\" said he to her, \"I come from\nseeing a very moving object, it is a young man, whom a camel-\ndriver had just carried to an hospital: he was bound with cords\non a camel, because he had not strength enough to sit. They had\nalready unbound him, and were carrying him into the hospital,\nwhen I happened to pass by. I went up to the young man, viewed\nhim attentively, and fancied his countenance was not altogether\nunknown to me. I asked him some questions concerning his family\nand his country; but all the answers I could get were sighs and\ntears. I took pity on him, and being so much used to sick people,\nperceived that he had need to have particular care taken of him.\nI would not permit him to be put into the hospital; for I am too\nwell acquainted with their way of managing the sick, and am\nsensible of the incapacity of the physicians. I have caused him\nto be brought to my own house, by my slaves; and they are now in\na private room where I placed him, putting on some of my own\nlinen, and treating him as they would do myself.\"\n\nFetnah's heart beat at these words of the jeweller, and she felt\na sudden emotion, for which she could not account: \"Shew me,\"\nsaid she to the syndic, \"into the sick man's room; I should be\nglad to see him.\" The syndic conducted her, and whilst she was\ngoing thither, Ganem's mother said to Jalib al Koolloob, \"Alas!\ndaughter, wretched as that sick stranger is, your brother, if he\nbe living, is not perhaps in a more happy condition.\"\n\nThe caliph's favourite coming into the chamber of the sick\nstranger, drew near the bed, in which the syndic's slaves had\nalready laid him. She saw a young man, whose eyes were closed,\nhis countenance pale, disfigured, and bathed in tears. She gazed\nearnestly on him, her heart beat, and she fancied she beheld\nGanem; but yet she would not believe her eyes. Though she found\nsomething of Ganem in the objets she beheld, yet in other\nrespects he appeared so different, that she durst not imagine it\nwas he that lay before her. Unable, however, to withstand the\nearnest desire of being satisfied, \"Ganem,\" said she, with a\ntrembling voice, \"is it you I behold?\" Having spoken these words,\nshe stopped to give the young man time to answer, but observing\nthat he seemed insensible; \"Alas! Ganem,\" added she, \"it is not\nyou that I address! My imagination being overcharged with your\nimage, has given to a stranger a deceitful resemblance. The son\nof Abou Ayoub, however indisposed, would know the voice of\nFetnah.\" At the name of Fetnah, Ganem (for it was really he)\nopened his eyes, sprang up, and knowing the caliph's favourite;\n\"Ah! madam,\" said he, \"by what miracle\"  He could say no more;\nsuch a sudden transport of joy seized him that he fainted away.\nFetnah and the syndic did all they could to bring him to himself;\nbut as soon as they perceived he began to revive, the syndic\ndesired the lady to withdraw, lest the sight of her should\nheighten his disorder.\n\nThe young man having recovered, looked all around, and not seeing\nwhat he sought, exclaimed, \"What is become of you, charming\nFetnah? Did you really appear before my eyes, or was it only an\nillusion?\" \"No, sir,\" said the syndic, \"it was no illusion. It\nwas I that caused the lady to withdraw, but you shall see her\nagain, as soon as you are in a condition to bear the interview.\nYou now stand in need of rest, and nothing ought to obstruct your\ntaking it. The situation of your affairs is altered, since you\nare, as I suppose, that Ganem, in favour of whom the commander of\nthe true believers has caused a proclamation to be made in\nBagdad, declaring, that he forgives him what is passed. Be\nsatisfied, for the present, with knowing so much; the lady, who\njust now spoke to you, will acquaint you with the rest, therefore\nthink of nothing but recovering your health; I will contribute\nall in my power towards it.\" Having spoke these words, he left\nGanem to take his rest, and went himself to provide for him such\nmedicines as were proper to recover his strength, exhausted by\nhard living and toil.\n\nDuring this time Fetnah was in the room with Jalib al Koolloob\nand her mother, where almost the same scene was acted over again;\nfor when Ganem's mother understood that the sick stranger whom\nthe syndic had brought into his house was Ganem himself, she was\nso overjoyed, that she also swooned away, and when, with the\nassistance of Fetnah and the syndic's wife, she was again come to\nherself, she would have arisen to go and see her son; but the\nsyndic coming in, hindered her, representing that Ganem was so\nweak and emaciated, that it would endanger his life to excite in\nhim those emotions, which must be the consequence of the\nunexpected sight of a beloved mother and sister. There was no\noccasion for the syndic's saying any more to Ganem's mother; as\nsoon as she was told that she could not converse with her son,\nwithout hazarding his life, she ceased insisting to go and see\nhim. Fetnah then said, \"Let us bless Heaven for having brought us\nall together. I will return to the palace to give the caliph an\naccount of these adventures, and tomorrow morning I will return\nto you.\" This said, she embraced the mother and the daughter, and\nwent away. As soon as she came to the palace, she sent Mesrour to\nrequest a private audience of the caliph, which was immediately\ngranted; and being brought into the prince's closet, where he was\nalone, she prostrated herself at his feet, with her face on the\nground, according to custom. He commanded her to rise, and having\nmade her sit down, asked whether she had heard any news of Ganem?\n\"Commander of the true believers,\" said she, \"I have been so\nsuccessful, that I have found him, and also his mother and\nsister.\" The caliph was curious to know how she had discovered\nthem in so short a time, and she satisfied his inquiries, saying\nso many things in commendation of Ganem's mother and sister, he\ndesired to see them as well as the young merchant.\n\nThough Haroon al Rusheed was passionate, and in his heat\nsometimes guilty of cruel actions; yet he was just, and the most\ngenerous prince in the world, when the storm of anger was over,\nand he was made sensible of the wrong he had done. Having\ntherefore no longer cause to doubt but that he had unjustly\npersecuted Ganem and his family, and had publicly wronged them,\nhe resolved to make them public satisfaction. \"I am overjoyed,\"\nsaid he to Fetnah, \"that your search has proved so successful; it\nis a real satisfaction to me, not so much for your sake as for my\nown. I will keep the promise I have made you. You shall marry\nGanem, and I here declare you are no longer my slave; you are\nfree. Go back to that young merchant, and as soon as he has\nrecovered his health, you shall bring him to me with his mother\nand sister.\"\n\nThe next morning early Fetnah repaired to the syndic of the\njewellers, being impatient to hear of Ganem's health, and tell\nthe mother and daughter the good news she had for them. The first\nperson she met was the syndic, who told her that Ganem had rested\nwell that night; and that his disorder proceeding altogether from\nmelancholy, the cause being removed, he would soon recover his\nhealth.\n\nAccordingly the son of Abou Ayoub was speedily much amended.\nRest, and the good medicines he had taken, but above all the\ndifferent situation of his mind, had wrought so good an effect,\nthat the syndic thought he might without danger see his mother,\nhis sister, and his mistress, provided he was prepared to receive\nthem; because there was ground to fear, that, not knowing his\nmother and sister were at Bagdad, the sight of them might\noccasion too great surprise and joy. It was therefore resolved,\nthat Fetnah should first go alone into Ganem's chamber, and then\nmake a sign to the two other ladies to appear, when she thought\nit was proper.\n\nMatters being so ordered, the syndic announced Fetnah's coming to\nthe sick man, who was so transported to see her, that he was\nagain near fainting away, \"Well, Ganem,\" said she, drawing near\nto his bed, \"you have again found your Fetnah, whom you thought\nyou had lost for ever.\" \"Ah! madam,\" exclaimed he, eagerly\ninterrupting her, \"what miracle has restored you to my sight? I\nthought you were in the caliph's palace; he has doubtless\nlistened to you. You have dispelled his jealousy, and he has\nrestored you to his favour.\"\n\n\"Yes, my dear Ganem,\" answered Fetnah, \"I have cleared myself\nbefore the commander of the true believers, who, to make amends\nfor 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\nhe knew not for a while how to express himself, otherwise than by\nthat passionate silence so well known to lovers. At length he\nbroke out in these words: \"Beautiful Fetnah, may I give credit to\nwhat you tell me? May I believe that the caliph really resigns\nyou to Abou Ayoub's son?\" \"Nothing is more certain,\" answered the\nlady. \"The caliph, who before caused search to be made for you,\nto take away your life, and who in his fury caused your mother\nand your sister to suffer a thousand indignities, desires now to\nsee you, that he may reward the respect you had for him; and\nthere is no question but that he will load your family with\nfavours.\"\n\nGanem asked, what the caliph had done to his mother and sister,\nwhich Fetnah told him; and he could not forbear letting fall some\ntears at the relation, notwithstanding the thoughts which arose\nin his mind at the prospect of being married to his mistress. But\nwhen Fetnah informed him, that they were actually in Bagdad, and\nin the same house with him, he appeared so impatient to see them,\nthat the favourite could no longer defer giving him the\nsatisfaction; and accordingly called them in. They were at the\ndoor waiting for that moment. They entered, went up to Ganem, and\nembracing him in their turns, kissed him a thousand times. What\ntears were shed amidst those embraces! Ganem's face was bathed\nwith them, as well as his mother's and sisters; and Fetnah let\nfall abundance. The syndic himself and his wife were so moved at\nthe spectacle, that they could not forbear weeping, nor\nsufficiently admire the secret workings of Providence which had\nbrought together into their house four persons, whom fortune had\nso cruelly persecuted.\n\nWhen they had dried up their tears, Ganem drew them afresh, by\nthe recital of what he had suffered from the day he left Fetnah,\ntill the moment the syndic brought him to his house. He told\nthem, that having taken refuge in a small village, he there fell\nsick; that some charitable peasants had taken care of him, but\nfinding he did not recover, a camel-driver had undertaken to\ncarry him to the hospital at Bagdad. Fetnah also told them all\nthe uneasiness of her imprisonment, how the caliph, having heard\nher talk in the tower, had sent for her into his closet, and how\nshe had cleared herself. In conclusion, when they had related\nwhat accidents had befallen them, Fetnah said, \"Let us bless\nHeaven, which has brought us all together again, and let us think\nof nothing but the happiness that awaits us. As soon as Ganem has\nrecovered his health, he must appear before the caliph, with his\nmother and sister; but I will go and make some provision for\nthem.\"\n\nThis said, she went to the palace, and soon returned with a purse\ncontaining a thousand pieces of gold, which she delivered to the\nsyndic, desiring him to buy apparel for the mother and daughter.\nThe syndic, who was a man of a good taste, chose such as were\nvery handsome, and had them made up with all expedition. They\nwere finished in three days, and Ganem finding himself strong\nenough, prepared to go abroad; but on the day he had appointed to\npay his respects to the caliph, while he was making ready, with\nhis mother and sister, the grand vizier, Jaaffier came to the\nsyndic's house.\n\nHe had come on horseback, attended by a great number of officers.\n\"Sir,\" said he to Ganem, as soon as he entered, \"I am come from\nthe commander of the true believers, my master and yours; the\norders I have differ much from those which I do not wish to\nrevive in your memory; I am to bear you company, and to present\nyou to the caliph, who is desirous to see you.\" Ganem returned no\nother answer to the vizier's compliment, than by profoundly\nbowing his head, and then mounted a horse brought from the\ncaliph's stables, which he managed very gracefully. The mother\nand daughter were mounted on mules belonging to the palace, and\nwhilst Fetnah on another mule led them by a bye-way to the\nprince's court, Jaaffier conducted Ganem, and brought him into\nthe hall of audience. The caliph was sitting on his throne,\nencompassed with emirs, viziers, and. other attendants and\ncourtiers, Arabs, Persians, Egyptians, Africans, and Syrians, of\nhis own dominions, not to mention strangers.\n\nWhen the vizier had conducted Ganem to the foot of the throne,\nthe young merchant paid his obeisance, prostrating himself with\nhis face to the ground, and then rising, made a handsome\ncompliment in verse, which, though the effusion of the moment,\nmet with the approbation of the whole court. After his\ncompliment, the caliph caused him to approach, and said, \"I am\nglad to see you, and desire to hear from your own mouth where you\nfound my favourite, and all that you have done for her.\" Ganem\nobeyed, and appeared so sincere, that the caliph was convinced of\nhis veracity. He ordered a very rich vest to be given him,\naccording to the custom observed towards those who are admitted\nto audience. After which he said to him, \"Ganem, I will have you\nlive in my court.\" \"Commander of the true believers,\" answered\nthe young merchant, \"a slave has no will but his master's, on\nwhom his life and fortune depend.\" The caliph was highly pleased\nwith Ganem's reply, and assigned him a considerable pension. He\nthen descended from his throne, and causing only Ganem and the\ngrand vizier, follow him, retired into his own apartment.\n\nNot questioning but that Fetnah was in waiting, with Abou Ayoub's\nwidow and daughter, he caused them to be called in. They\nprostrated themselves before him: he made them rise; and was so\ncharmed by Jalib al Koolloob's beauty, that, after viewing her\nvery attentively, he said, \"I am so sorry for having treated your\ncharms so unworthily, that I owe them such a satisfaction as may\nsurpass the injury I have done. I take you to wife; and by that\nmeans shall punish Zobeide, who shall become the first cause of\nyour good fortune, as she was of your past sufferings. This is\nnot all,\" added he, turning towards Ganem's mother; \"you are\nstill young, I believe you will not disdain to be allied to my\ngrand vizier, I give you to Jaaffier, and you, Fetnah, to Ganem.\nLet a cauzee and witnesses be called, and the three contracts be\ndrawn up and signed immediately.\" Ganem would have represented to\nthe caliph, that it would be honour enough for his sister to be\none of his favourites; but he was resolved to marry her.\n\nHaroon thought this such an extraordinary story, that he ordered\nhis historiographer to commit it to writing with all its\ncircumstances. It was afterwards laid up in his library, and many\ncopies being transcribed, it became public.\n\n\n\n\nEnd of Volume 1.","title":"The Arabian Nights Entertainments \u2014 Volume 01","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":125891}