{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_62687/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_62687","id":"gutenberg_62687","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/62687","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Adventure","Category: Classics of Literature","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Romance","Fairy tales","Tales -- Arab countries"],"text":"[Transcriber's Notes\n\nThis text is based on what is called the Grub Street edition of the\nOne Thousand and One Nights, that first appeared in London in 1706.\nIt was translated indirectly by anonymous translator(s) from the\nFrench translation of Antoine Galland titled Les mille et une nuits.\n\nThe table of contents was moved from the end of the book to the\nbeginning to better suit the ebook format.\n\nFootnotes appearing throughout the text were numbered sequentially\nand collected at the end of the ebook under _Footnotes_.]\n\n\n\n\nFRONTISPIECE\n\n\n\u201cThe lady happening at the same time to look up to the tree, saw\nthe two princes, 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, to\nexcuse them; but she, after having laid the monster\u2019s head softly\ndown 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\nmade signs to her that they were afraid of the genie, and would fain\nhave been excused. Upon which she ordered them to come down, and if\nthey did not make haste, threatened to awake the genie, and bid him\nkill them.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nTHE\nARABIAN NIGHTS\u2019\nENTERTAINMENTS.\n\nEMBELLISHED WITH\n\nNEARLY ONE HUNDRED ENGRAVINGS.\n\nA NEW EDITION,\n\nCAREFULLY REVISED AND CORRECTED.\n\nCOMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME.\n\nSTEREOTYPED BY JAMES CONNER.\n\nPHILADELPHIA:\n\nPUBLISHED BY THOMAS WARDLE,\n\nNO. 13 MINOR STREET.\n\n1835.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\nThe Story of the Genie, and the Lady shut up in a Glass Box\n\nThe Fable of the Ass, the Ox, and the Labourer\n\nThe Fable of the Dog and the Cock\n\nThe Story of the Merchant and the Genie\n\nThe History of the first Old Man and the Hind\n\nThe Story of the second Old Man and the two Black Dogs\n\nThe Story of the Fisherman\n\nThe Story of the Grecian King and the Physician Douban\n\nThe Story of the Husband and the Parrot\n\nThe Story of the Vizier that was punished\n\nThe History of the young King of the Black Isles\n\nThe History of the three Calenders, Sons of Kings; and of the five\nladies of Bagdad\n\nThe History of the first Calender, a King\u2019s Son\n\nThe Story of the second Calender, a King\u2019s Son\n\nThe Story of the Envious Man, and of him that he envied\n\nThe History of the third Calender, a King\u2019s Son\n\nThe Story of Zobeide\n\nThe Story of Amine\n\nThe Story of Sinbad, the Sailor\n\nHis first Voyage\n\nHis second Voyage\n\nHis third Voyage\n\nHis fourth Voyage\n\nHis fifth Voyage\n\nHis sixth Voyage\n\nHis seventh and last Voyage\n\nThe Story of the Three Apples\n\nThe Story of the Lady that was murdered, and of the Young Man, her\nhusband\n\nThe Story of Noureddin Ali and Bedreddin Hassan\n\nThe Story of the little Hunch-back\n\nThe Story told by the Christian Merchant\n\nThe Story told by the Sultan of Casgar\u2019s Purveyor\n\nThe Story told by the Jewish Physician\n\nThe Story told by the Tailor\n\nThe Story of the Barber\n\nThe Story of the Barber\u2019s eldest Brother\n\nThe Story of the Barber\u2019s second Brother\n\nThe Story of the Barber\u2019s third Brother\n\nThe Story of the Barber\u2019s fourth Brother\n\nThe Story of the Barber\u2019s fifth Brother\n\nThe Story of the Barber\u2019s sixth Brother\n\nThe History of Aboulhassen Ali Ebn Becar, and Schemselnihar,\nfavourite of Caliph Haroun Alraschid\n\nThe Story of the Amours of Camaralzaman, Prince of the Isles of the\nChildren of Khaledan, and of Badoura, Princess of China\n\nThe History of the Princess of China\n\nThe Story of Marzavan, with the sequel of that of the Prince\nCamaralzaman\n\nThe Story of the Princess Badoura, after her separation from Prince\nCamaralzaman\n\nThe Story of the Princes Amgiad and Assad\n\nThe Story of Prince Amgiad and a Lady of the City of the Magicians\n\nThe sequel of the Story of Prince Assad\n\nThe Story of Noureddin and the Fair Persian\n\nThe Story of Beder, Prince of Persia, and Giahaure, Princess of\nSamandal\n\nThe History of Ganem, Son of Abou Ayoub, and known by the surname of\nLove\u2019s Slave\n\nThe History of Prince Zeyn Alasnam, and the King of the Genii\n\nThe History of Codadad and his Brothers\n\nThe History of the Princess of Deryabar\n\nThe Story of the Sleeper awakened\n\nThe Story of Aladdin, or the Wonderful Lamp\n\nThe Adventures of the Caliph Haroun Alraschid\n\nThe Story of the Blind Man, Baba Abdalla\n\nThe Story of Sidi Nonman\n\nThe Story of Cogia Hassan Alhabbal\n\nThe Story of Ali Baba, and the Forty Robbers destroyed by a Slave\n\nThe Story of Ali Cogia, a Merchant of Bagdad\n\nThe Story of the Enchanted Horse\n\nThe Story of Prince Ahmed, and the Fairy Pari Banou\n\nThe Story of the Sisters who envied their youngest Sister\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nNumerous as are the editions of the Arabian Nights\u2019\nEntertainments, and frequently as they have received the\nembellishments of the artist, yet an Edition was still wanting, more\neasily accessible to the general reader, and which, while it\ncombined economy, should not be deficient in elegance or\nillustration. To supply this chasm in the Literature of Romance, is\nthe object of the Edition now offered to the public; and it can\nscarcely be necessary to observe, that although the Engravings are\nmore numerous than in any preceding Edition, the vigour and spirit\nwith which they are executed, will recommend them even to the\nadmirers of the arts. These Engravings, the whole of which are from\noriginal designs, made expressly for this work, are nearly one\nhundred in number. The subjects have been very happily selected, and\nit will be seen with how much skill the Artist has embodied the\nhumour and spirit of the Author. Under these circumstances, the\nPublisher has no doubt but that he will enjoy the double\ngratification of giving to the public the cheapest Edition of the\nThousand and One Tales of the inimitable Oriental Story Teller, and\nof supplying a work, which, in point of embellishment, may be found\nworthy of a place in the best libraries.\n\nOf the merits of the Arabian Nights\u2019 Entertainments, their\npopularity would be sufficient evidence alone, had not the language\nof praise both in poetry and prose, long been exhausted on them.\nThey are still the admiration of every person who can appreciate\ncurious and useful information conveyed through the medium of\nfiction. \u201cThey are,\u201d says Colonel Capper, in his Observations on\nthe Passage to India, \u201cby many people erroneously supposed to be a\nspurious production, and are therefore slighted in a manner they do\nnot deserve. They were written by an Arabian, and are universally\nread and admired throughout Asia by all ranks of men, both old and\nyoung: considered, therefore, as an original work, descriptive as\nthey are of the manners and customs of the East in general, and also\nof the Arabians in particular, they surely must be thought to merit\nthe attention of the curious; nor are they, in my opinion, destitute\nof merit in other respects: for, although the extravagance of some\nof the stories is carried too far, yet, on the whole, one cannot\nhelp admiring the fancy and invention of the author, in striking out\nsuch a variety of pleasing incidents; pleasing I will call them,\nbecause they have frequently afforded me much amusement; nor do I\nenvy any man his feelings, who is above being pleased with them. But\nbefore any person decides upon the merit of these books, he should\nbe eye-witness of the effect they produce on those who best\nunderstand them. I have more than once seen the Arabians in the\ndesert sitting round a fire listening to these stories with such\nattention and pleasure, as totally to forget the fatigue and\nhardship with which an instant before they were entirely overcome.\nIn short, not to dwell any longer on this subject, they are in the\nsame estimation all over Asia, that the adventures of Don Quixote\nare in Spain; and it is presumed, no man of genius or taste would\nthink of making the tour of that country without previously reading\nthe work of Cervantes.\u201d\n\nNor is the picture of Oriental manners and customs, as exhibited in\nthe Arabian Nights\u2019 Entertainments, that of a remote age; on the\ncontrary, Mr. Dallaway, one of the recent travellers in the East, in\nhis \u201cConstantinople Ancient and Modern,\u201d says, \u201cMuch of the\nromantic air which pervades the domestic habits of the persons\ndescribed in the Arabian Nights\u2019 Entertainments, particularly in\ninferior life, will be observed in passing through the streets of\nthat city. And we receive with additional pleasure a remembrance of\nthe delight with which we at first perused them, in finding them\nauthentic portraits of every Oriental nation.\u201d\n\nMr. Hole, in his remarks on these Tales, considers the Sindbad as\nthe Arabian Odyssey, and as descriptive of real places and manners;\nand he takes no small pains to ascertain the precise local\nsituations of the islands which Sindbad is supposed to visit; but\nthe beauties of the Arabian Nights\u2019 Entertainments have never been\nbetter described than in the following Sonnet to the Author, by Mr.\nThomas Russell, Fellow of New College, Oxford:\n\n    \u201cBlessed child of Genius, whose fantastic sprite\n    Rides on the vivid lightning\u2019s flash, or roves\n    Through flowery valleys and elysian groves;\n    Or, borne on vent\u2019rous pinions, takes its flight\n    To those dread realms, where, hid from mortal sight,\n    Fierce Genii roam, or where in bright alcoves\n    Mild Fairies reign, and woo their secret loves:\n    Whate\u2019er thy theme, whether the magic might\n    Of the stern kings that dwell \u2019mid Ocean\u2019s roar,\n    Or Sindbad\u2019s perils, or the cruel wiles\n    Of Afric\u2019s curst enchanters, charm us more,\n    Or aught more wond\u2019rous still our ear beguiles;\n    Well pleased we listen to thy fabling lore,\n    And Truth itself with less attraction smiles.\u201d\n\nThe present translation is from the _Contes Arabes_ of M. Galland,\nwho appears to have imbibed no inconsiderable portion of the spirit\nof the Oriental writer; and the utmost care has been taken to render\nit as correct as possible, consistent with the simplicity of the\nnarration, and the luxuriance of its descriptions.\n\nAlthough it cannot now be necessary to enter into a critical\nexamination of a work which is equally admired by the learned and\nthe unlearned, the young and the old, yet as the Genii and Fairies\nform so considerable a part of the machinery of these Tales, it may\nnot be improper to say something respecting them.\n\nThe _Genn_ or _Ginn_ of the Arabians, is the same with the _Div_ or\n_Ganman_ of the Persians, the _Deuta_ of the Indians, and the\nTurks\u2019 _Ginler_, and signifies a genie or demon, who has a body\nformed of a more subtle matter than those of men, and like\nelementary fire. They are supposed to have been created and to have\ngoverned the world before Adam, and are divided into good and evil\nangels, and even giants, who, in the early times, made war against\nmen, but have since been confined to one region, denominated from\nthem _Gimristan_, the fairy land of our old romances. _Gian ben\nGian_ was the sovereign of these creatures, or of the _Peris_ or\nfairies, who governed the world two thousand years; after which\nEblis was sent by God to drive them into a distant part of the\nworld, and there confine them, because of their rebellion. The\nshield of this prince is as famous as that of Achilles among the\nGreeks, and, like it, seven-fold and destructive of all\nenchantments, and was possessed by three successive Solomons, who\nperformed with it marvellous but fabulous exploits, and fell at last\ninto the hands of a hero named Tahmurath, surnamed _Divbend_, or the\nConqueror of Giants.\n\nSolomon, the son of David, is said by the eastern historians to have\nhad not only men, but good and evil spirits, the birds and the\nwinds, subjected to him by God; and to have been possessed of a ring\nof wonderful virtues, which seems to be nothing more than the\nextraordinary wisdom with which he was divinely endowed. All that we\nfind in these writers about the marvellous actions and unrivalled\nempire of Solomon over men and devils, is drawn from the Scripture\naccount of the extraordinary wisdom, and virtues, and throne of this\nmonarch.\n\n_Peri_ are those beautiful creatures, which are neither men, angels,\nnor devils. Some have supposed them the female genies, but the\n_Peris_ are of both sexes, and are good beings; on whom the _Div_ or\ngenies frequently make war, and shut up their prisoners in cages\nsuspended on the highest trees, where their companions come and feed\nthem with the finest odours, which are their common food, and defend\nthem from the _Div_, who feel a sudden change to melancholy as soon\nas they approach them.\n\n_Benon_, or _Beni al Giam_, is another name for these good spirits,\nwho separated from the rebellious ones headed by Eblis or Lucifer.\n--D\u2019Herbelot, voc. _Genn, Gian, Peri. Solomon_.\n\n\n\n\nARABIAN NIGHTS\u2019\nENTERTAINMENTS.\n\n\nThe chronicles of the Sussanians, the ancient kings of Persia, who\nextended their empire into the Indies, over all the islands\nthereunto belonging, a great way beyond the Ganges, and as far as\nChina, acquaint us, that there was formerly a king of that potent\nfamily, the most excellent prince of his time: he was as much\nbeloved by his subjects for his wisdom and prudence, as he was\ndreaded by his neighbours, because of his valour, and his warlike\nand well disciplined troops. He had two sons; the eldest, Schahriar,\nthe worthy heir of his father, and endowed with all his virtues. The\nyoungest, Schahzenan, was likewise a prince of incomparable merit.\n\nAfter a long and glorious reign, this king died, and Schahriar\nmounted his throne. Schahzenan, being excluded from all share of the\ngovernment by the laws of the empire, and obliged to live a private\nlife, was so far from envying the happiness of his brother, that he\nmade it his whole business to please him, and effected it without\nmuch difficulty. Schahriar, who had naturally a great affection for\nthat prince, was so charmed with his complaisance, that out of an\nexcess of friendship, he would needs divide his dominions with him,\nand gave him the kingdom of Great Tartary. Schahzenan went\nimmediately, and took possession of it, and fixed the seat of his\ngovernment at Samarcande, the metropolis of the country.\n\nAfter they had been separated ten years, Schahriar, having a\npassionate desire to see his brother, resolved to send an ambassador\nto invite him to his court. He made choice of his prime vizier for\nthe embassy, sent him to Tartary with a retinue answerable to his\ndignity, and he made all possible haste to Samarcande. When he came\nnear the city, Schahzenan had notice of it, and went to meet him\nwith the principal lords of his court, who, to put the more honour\non the sultan\u2019s minister, appeared in magnificent apparel. The\nking of 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 him\nthat he was in health, gave him an account of his embassy.\nSchahzenan was so much affected with it, that he answered thus:--\nSage vizier, the sultan, my brother, does me too much honour; he\ncould propose nothing in the world so acceptable; I long as\npassionately to see him, as he does to see me. Time has been no more\nable to diminish my friendship than his. My kingdom is in peace, and\nI desire no more than ten days to get myself ready to go with you;\nso that there is no necessity for your entering the city for so\nshort a time; I pray you to pitch your tents here, and I will order\nprovisions in abundance for yourself and your company.\n\nThe vizier did accordingly, and as soon as the king returned, he\nsent him a prodigious quantity of provisions of all sorts, with\npresents of great value.\n\nIn the meanwhile, Schahzenan made ready for his journey, took orders\nabout his meet important affairs, appointed a council to govern in\nhis absence, and named a minister, of whose wisdom he had sufficient\nexperience, and in whom he had an entire confidence, to be their\npresident. At the end of ten days, his equipage being ready, he took\nhis leave of the queen his wife, and went out of town in the evening\nwith his retinue, pitched his royal pavilion near the vizier\u2019s\ntent, and discoursed with that ambassador till midnight. But willing\nonce more to embrace the queen, whom he loved entirely, he returned\nalone to his palace, and went straight to her majesty\u2019s apartment,\nwho, not expecting his return, had taken one of the meanest officers\nof her household to her bed, where they lay both fast to sleep,\nhaving been in bed a considerable while.\n\nThe king entered without any noise, and pleased himself to think how\nhe should surprise his wife, who, he thought, loved him as entirely\nas he did her: but how great was his surprise, when by the light of\nthe flambeaux, which burn all night in the apartments of those\neastern princes, he saw a man in her arms! He stood immoveable for a\ntime, not knowing how to believe his own eyes; but, finding that it\nwas not to be doubted, How! says he to himself, I am scarce out of\nmy palace, and but just under the walls of Samarcande, and dare they\nput such an outrage upon me! Ah! perfidious wretches! your crime\nshall not go unpunished. As king, I am to punish wickedness\ncommitted in my dominions; and as an enraged husband, I must\nsacrifice you to my just resentment. In a word, this unfortunate\nprince, giving way to his rage, drew his scimitar, and, approaching\nthe bed, killed them both with one blow, turning their sleep into\ndeath; and afterwards taking them up, threw them out of a window,\ninto the ditch that surrounded the palace.\n\nHaving avenged himself thus, he went out of town privately, as he\ncame into it; and, returning to his pavilion, without saying one\nword of what had happened, he ordered the tents to be struck, and to\nmake ready for his journey. This was speedily done; and before day\nhe began his march, with kettle-drums and other instruments of\nmusic, that filled every one with joy, except the king, who was so\nmuch troubled at the disloyalty of his wife, that he was seized with\nextreme melancholy, which preyed upon him during his whole journey.\n\nWhen he drew near the capital of the Indies, the sultan Schahriar\nand all his court came out to meet him; and the princes were\noverjoyed to see one another, and alighting, after mutual embraces,\nand other marks of affection and respect, they mounted again, and\nentered the city, with the acclamations of vast multitudes of\npeople. The sultan conducted his brother to the palace he had\nprovided for him, which had a communication with his own, by means\nof a garden; and was so much the more magnificent, that it was set\napart as a banqueting-house for public entertainments, and other\ndiversions of the court, and the splendour of it had been lately\naugmented by new furniture.\n\nSchahriar immediately left the king of Tartary, that he might give\nhim time to bathe himself, and to change his apparel; and as soon as\nhe had done, he came to him again, and they sat down together upon a\nsofa or alcove. The courtiers kept at a distance, out of respect,\nand those two princes entertained one another suitably to their\nfriendship, their nearness of blood, and the long separation that\nhad passed betwixt them. The time of supper being come, they ate\ntogether, after which they renewed their conversation, which\ncontinued till Schahriar, perceiving that it was very late, left his\nbrother to rest.\n\nThe unfortunate Schahzenan went to bed; and though the conversation\nof his brother had suspended his grief for some time, it returned\nupon him with more violence; so that, instead of taking his\nnecessary rest, he tormented himself with cruel reflections. All the\ncircumstances of his wife\u2019s disloyalty presented themselves afresh\nto his imagination, in so lively a manner, that he was like one\nbeside himself. In a word, not being able to sleep, he got up, and\ngiving himself over to afflicting thoughts, they made such an\nimpression upon his countenance, that the sultan could not but take\nnotice of it, and said thus to himself: What can be the matter with\nthe king of Tartary, that he is so melancholy? Has he any cause to\ncomplain of his reception? No, surely; I have received him as a\nbrother whom I love, so that I can charge myself with no omission in\nthat respect. Perhaps it grieves him to be at such a distance from\nhis dominions, or from the queen his wife. Alas! if that be the\nmatter, I must forthwith give him the presents I designed for him,\nthat he may return to Samarcande when he pleases. Accordingly, next\nday Schahriar sent him part of those presents, being the greatest\nrarities and the richest things that the Indies could afford. At the\nsame time he endeavoured to divert his brother every day, by new\nobjects of pleasure, and the finest treats; which, instead of giving\nthe king of Tartary any ease, only increased his sorrow.\n\nOne day, Schahriar, having appointed a great hunting match, about\ntwo days\u2019 journey from his capital, in a place that abounded with\ndeer, Schahzenan prayed him to excuse him, for his health would not\nallow him to bear him company. The sultan, unwilling to put any\nconstraint upon him, left him at his liberty, and went a hunting\nwith his nobles. The king of Tartary being thus left alone, shut\nhimself up in his apartment, and sat down at a window that looked\ninto the garden. That delicious place, and the sweet harmony of an\ninfinite number of birds which chose it for a place of retreat, must\ncertainly have diverted him, had he been capable of taking pleasure\nin any thing; but being perpetually tormented with the fatal\nremembrance of his queen\u2019s infamous conduct, his eyes were not so\noften fixed upon the garden, as lifted up to heaven to bewail his\nmisfortunes.\n\nWhile he was thus swallowed up with grief, an object presented\nitself to his view, which quickly turned all his thoughts another\nway. A secret gate of the sultan\u2019s palace opened all of a sudden,\nand there came out of it twenty women, in the midst of whom walked\nthe sultaness, who was easily distinguished from the rest by her\nmajestic air. The princess, thinking that the king of Tartary was\ngone a hunting with his brother the sultan, came up with her retinue\nnear the windows of his apartment; for the prince had placed himself\nso that he could see all that passed in the garden, without being\nperceived himself. He observed, that the persons who accompanied the\nsultaness threw off their veils and long robes, that they might be\nat more freedom; but was wonderfully surprised when he saw ten of\nthem to be blacks, and that each of them 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 came down from a tree, and ran to her in all haste.\n\nModesty will not allow, nor is it necessary, to relate what passed\nbetween the blacks and the ladies. It is sufficient to say, that\nSchahzenan saw enough to convince him that his brother was as much\nto be pitied as himself. This amorous company continued together\ntill midnight, and having bathed all together, in a great piece of\nwater which was one of the chief ornaments of the garden, they\ndressed themselves, and re-entered the palace by the secret door,\nall except Masoud, who climbed up his tree, and got over the garden\nwall the same way as he came in.\n\nAll this having passed in the king of Tartary\u2019s sight, occasioned\nhim to make a multitude of reflections. How little reason had I,\nsays he, to think that no one was so unfortunate as myself! It is\ncertainly the unavoidable fate of all husbands, since the sultan, my\nbrother, who is sovereign of so many dominions, and the greatest\nprince of the earth, could not escape it. The case being so, what a\nfool am I to kill myself with grief! I am resolved that the\nremembrance of a misfortune so common shall never more disturb my\nquiet.\n\nFrom that moment he forbore afflicting himself. Being unwilling to\nsup till he saw the whole scene that was acted under his window, he\ncalled then for his supper, eat with a better appetite than he had\ndone at any time since his coming from Samarcande, and listened with\nsome degree of pleasure to the agreeable concert of vocal and\ninstrumental music, that was appointed to entertain him while at\ntable.\n\nHe continued after this in very good humour; and when he knew that\nthe sultan was returning, he went to meet him, and paid him his\ncompliments with great gayety. Schahriar at first took no notice of\nthis alteration; but politely expostulated with him, why he would\nnot bear him company at hunting the stag; and without giving him\ntime to reply, entertained him with a relation of the great number\nof deer and other game they had killed, and what pleasure he had in\nthe sport. Schahzenan heard him with attention, gave answer to every\nthing, and being free from that melancholy which formerly\noverclouded his wit, he said a thousand agreeable and pleasant\nthings to the sultan.\n\nSchahriar, who expected to have found him in the same state as he\nleft him, was overjoyed to see him so cheerful, and spoke to him\nthus: Dear brother, I return thanks to Heaven for the happy change\nit has made in you during my absence; I am extremely rejoiced at it;\nbut I have a request to make to you, and conjure you not to deny me.\n--I can refuse you nothing, replied the king of Tartary; you may\ncommand Schahzenan as you please; speak, I am impatient till I know\nwhat you desire of me. --Ever since you came to my court, replied\nSchahriar, I found you swallowed up by a deep melancholy, and I in\nvain attempted to remove it by all sorts of diversion. I imagined it\nmight be occasioned by reason of your distance from your dominions,\nor that love might have a great share in it, and that the queen of\nSamarcande, who, no doubt, is an accomplished beauty, might be the\ncause of it. I do not know if I be mistaken; but I must own, that it\nwas for this very reason I would not importune you upon the subject,\nfor fear of making you uneasy. But without my having contributed any\nthing towards it, I find now, upon my return, that you are in the\nbest humour that can be, and that your mind is entirely delivered\nfrom that black vapour which disturbed it. Pray do me the favour to\ntell me why you were so melancholy, and why you are no longer so.\n\nUpon this, the king of Tartary continued for some time, as if he had\nbeen meditating, and contriving what he should answer; but at last\nreplied as follows: You are my sultan and master; but excuse me, I\nbeseech you, from answering your question. --No, dear brother, said\nthe sultan, you must answer me; I will take no denial. Schahzenan,\nnot being able to withstand these pressing instances, answered,\nWell, then, brother, I will satisfy you, since you command me; and\nhaving told him the story of the queen of Samarcande\u2019s treachery,\nThis, says he, was the cause of my grief; judge whether I had not\nreason enough to give myself up to it.\n\nOh! my brother, says the sultan, (in a tone which showed what an\ninterest he took in the king of Tartary\u2019s story,) what a horrible\nstory do you tell me! How impatient was I till I heard it out! I\ncommend you for punishing the traitors who offered you such an\noutrage. Nobody can blame you for that action: it was just; and, for\nmy part, had the case been mine, I should scarce have been so\nmoderate as you. I would not have satisfied myself with the life of\none woman; I verily think I should have sacrificed a thousand to my\nfury. I cease now to wonder at your melancholy. The cause of it was\ntoo sensible and too mortifying, not to make you yield to it. O\nheaven! what a strange adventure! Nor do I believe the like ever\nbefel any man but yourself. But, in short, I must bless God, who has\ncomforted you; and since I doubt not but your consolation is well\ngrounded, be so good as to let me know what it is, and conceal\nnothing from me. Schahzenan was not so easily prevailed upon in this\npoint, as he had been in the other, because of his brother\u2019s\nconcern it; but being obliged to yield to his pressing instances,\nanswered, I must obey you, then, since your command is absolute; yet\nI am afraid that my obedience will occasion your trouble to be\ngreater than ever mine was. But you must blame yourself for it,\nsince you force me to reveal a thing which I should otherwise have\nburied in eternal oblivion. What you say, answers Schahriar, serves\nonly to increase my curiosity. Make haste to discover the secret,\nwhatever it be. The king of Tartary being no longer able to refuse,\ngave him the particulars of all that he had seen of the blacks in\ndisguise; of the ungoverned passion of the sultaness and her ladies;\nand he did not forget Masoud. After having been witness to those\ninfamous actions, says he, I believed all women to be naturally\ninclined thereto, and that they could not resist their inclination.\nBeing of this opinion, it seemed to me to be an unaccountable\nweakness in men to place any confidence in their fidelity. This\nreflection brought on many others; and, in short, I thought the best\nthing I could do was to make myself easy. It cost me some pains,\nindeed, but at last I effected it; and if you will take my advice,\nyou will follow my example.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LADY OF THE GLASS CASE.\n\n\nThough the advice was good, the sultan could not relish it, but fell\ninto a rage. What! says he, is the sultaness of the Indies capable\nof prostituting herself in so base a manner? No, brother, I cannot\nbelieve what you say, except I saw it with my own eyes; your\u2019s\nmust needs have deceived you: the matter is so important, that I\nmust be satisfied of it myself. Dear brother, answers Schahzenan,\nthat you may without much difficulty. Appoint another hunting match;\nand when we are out of town with your court and mine, we will stop\nunder our tents, and at night let you and I return alone to my\napartments; I am certain the next day you will see what I saw. The\nsultan, approving the stratagem, immediately appointed a new\nhunting-match; and that same day the tents were set up at the place\nappointed.\n\nNext day the two princes set out with all their retinue; they\narrived at the place of encampment, and staid there till night. Then\nSchahriar called his grand vizier, and without acquainting him with\nhis design, commanded him to stay in his place during his absence,\nand suffer no person to go out of the camp upon any account\nwhatever. As soon as he had given this order, the king of Grand\nTartary and he took horse, passed through the camp incognito,\nreturned to the city, and went to Schahzenan\u2019s apartment. They had\nscarce placed themselves in the same window where the king of\nTartary had beheld the scene of the disguised blacks, but the secret\ngate opened, the sultaness and her ladies entered the garden with\nthe blacks, and she, having called upon Masoud, the sultan saw more\nthan enough to convince him fully of his dishonour and misfortune.\n\nO heavens! cried he, what an indignity! what horror! Can the wife of\na sovereign such as I am, be capable of such an infamous action?\nAfter this, let no prince boast of his being perfectly happy. Alas!\nmy brother, continued he, (embracing the king of Tartary,) let us\nboth renounce the world; honour is banished out of it; if it\nflatters us one day, it betrays us the next! Let us abandon our\ndominions and grandeur; let us go into foreign countries, where we\nmay lead an obscure life, and conceal our misfortunes. Schahzenan\ndid not at all approve of this resolution, but did not think fit to\ncontradict Schahriar in the heat of his passion. Dear brother, says\nhe, your will shall be mine; I am ready to follow you whither you\nplease: but promise me that you will return if we can meet with any\none that is more unhappy than ourselves. I agree to it, says the\nsultan, but doubt much whether we shall. I am not of your mind in\nthis, replies the king of Tartary; I fancy our journey will be but\nshort. Having said thus, they went secretly out of the palace by a\ndifferent way from that by which they came. They travelled as long\nas it was day, and lay the first night under trees; and getting up\nabout break of day, they went on till they came to a fine meadow\nupon the bank of the sea, that was besprinkled with great trees.\nThey sat down under one of those trees to rest and refresh\nthemselves, and the chief subject of their conversation was the\ninfidelity of their wives.\n\nThey had not sat long, before they heard a frightful noise from the\nsea, and a terrible cry, which filled them with fear; then, the sea\nopening, there arose up something like a great black column, which\nreached almost to the clouds. This redoubled their fear, made them\nrise speedily, and climb up into a tree to hide themselves. They had\nscarce got up, till looking to the place from whence the noise came,\nand where the sea opened, they observed that the black column\nadvanced, winding about towards the shore, cleaving the water before\nit. They could not at first think what it should be; but in a little\ntime they found that it was one of those malignant genii that are\nmortal enemies to mankind, and are always doing them mischief. He\nwas black, frightful, had the shape of a giant, of a prodigious\nstature, and carried on his head a great glass box, shut with four\nlocks of fine steel. He entered the meadow with his burden, which he\nlaid down just at the foot of the tree where the two princes were,\nwho looked upon themselves to be dead men. Meanwhile the genie sat\ndown by his box, and opening it with four keys that he had at his\ngirdle, there came out a lady magnificently apparelled, of a\nmajestic stature, and a complete beauty. The monster made her sit\ndown by him, and eying her with an amorous look, Lady, says he, nay,\nmost accomplished of all ladies who are admired for their beauty, my\ncharming mistress, whom I carried off on your wedding-day, and have\nloved so constantly ever since, let me sleep a few moments by you;\nfor I found myself so very sleepy, that I came to this place to take\na little rest. Having spoken thus, he laid down his huge head upon\nthe lady\u2019s knees, and stretching out his legs, which reached as\nfar as the sea, he fell asleep presently, and snored so that he made\nthe banks echo again.\n\nThe lady happening at the same time to look up to the tree, saw the\ntwo princes, 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, to\nexcuse them; but she, after having laid the monster\u2019s head softly\ndown on the ground, rose up and spoke to them with a low, but eager\nvoice, to come down to her; she would take no denial. They made\nsigns to her that they were afraid of the genie, and would fain have\nbeen excused. Upon which she ordered them to come down, and if they\ndid not make haste, threatened to awake the genie, and bid him kill\nthem.\n\nThese words did so much intimidate the princes, that they began to\ncome down with all possible precaution, lest they should awake the\ngenie. When they came down, the lady took them by the hand, and\ngoing a little farther with them under the trees, made a very urgent\nproposal to them. At first they rejected it, but she obliged them to\naccept it by her threats. Having obtained what she desired, she\nperceived that each of them had a ring on his finger, which she\ndemanded of them. As soon as she received them, she went and took a\nbox out of the bundle, where her toilet was, pulled out a string of\nother rings of all sorts, which she showed them, and asked them if\nthey knew what those jewels meant. No, said they, we hope you will\nbe pleased to tell us. These are, replied she, the rings of all the\nmen to whom I have granted my favours. There are full fourscore and\neighteen of them, which I keep as tokens to remember them; and asked\nyour\u2019s for the same reason, to make up the hundred. So that,\ncontinued she, I have a hundred gallants already, notwithstanding\nthe vigilance 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; I\nfind a way to cheat his care. You may see by this, that when a woman\nhas formed a project, there is no husband or lover that can hinder\nher putting it into execution. Men had better not put their wives\nunder such restraint, as it only serves to teach them cunning.\nHaving spoken thus to them, she put their rings upon the same string\nwith the rest, and sitting down by the monster, as before, laid his\nhead again upon her lap, and made a sign for the princes to be gone.\n\nThey returned immediately by the same way they came, and when they\nwere out of sight of the lady and genie, Schahriar says to\nSchahzenan, Well, brother, what do you think of this adventure? Has\nnot the genie a very faithful mistress? And do not you agree that\nthere is no wickedness equal to that of woman? Yes, brother, answers\nthe king of Tartary; and you must also agree that the monster is\nmore unfortunate, and more to be pitied than we. Therefore, since we\nhave found what we sought for, let us return to our dominions, and\nlet not this hinder us from marrying. For my part, I know a method\nby which to keep inviolable the fidelity that my wife owes me. I\nwill say no more of it at present, but you will hear of it in a\nlittle time, and I am sure you will follow my example. The sultan\nagreed with his brother; and continuing their journey, they arrived\nin the camp the third night after they left it.\n\nThe news of the sultan\u2019s return being spread, the courtiers came\nbetimes in the morning before his pavilion, to wait on him. He\nordered them to enter, received them with a more pleasant air than\nformerly, and gave each of them a present: after which he told them\nhe would go no farther, ordered them to take horse, and returned\nspeedily to his palace.\n\nAs soon as he arrived, he ran to the sultaness\u2019s apartment,\ncommanded her to be bound before him, and delivered her to his grand\nvizier, with an order to strangle her, which was accordingly\nexecuted by that minister without inquiring into her crime. The\nenraged prince did not stop here, but cut off the heads of all the\nsultaness\u2019s ladies with his own hand. After this rigorous\npunishment, being persuaded that no woman was chaste, he resolved,\nin order to prevent the disloyalty of such as he should afterwards\nmarry, to wed one every night, and have her strangled next morning.\nHaving imposed this cruel law upon himself, he swore that he would\nobserve it immediately after the departure of the king of Tartary,\nwho speedily took leave of him, and being laden with magnificent\npresents, set forward on his journey.\n\nSchahzenan being gone, Schahriar ordered his grand vizier to bring\nhim the daughter of one of his generals. The vizier obeyed; the\nsultan lay with her, and putting her next morning into his hands\nagain, in order to be strangled, commanded him to get him another\nnext night. Whatever reluctance the vizier had to put such orders in\nexecution, as he owed blind obedience to the sultan his master, he\nwas forced to submit. He brought him then the daughter of a\nsubaltern, whom he also cut off next day. After her he brought a\ncitizen\u2019s daughter; and, in a word, there was every day a maid\nmarried, and a 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 loss\nof his daughter! and there, tender mothers, dreading lest their\ndaughters should have the same fate, making the air to resound\nbeforehand with their groans: so that, instead of the commendations\nand blessings which the sultan had hitherto received from his\nsubjects, their mouths were now filled with imprecations against him.\n\nThe grand vizier, who, as has been already said, was the executioner\nof this horrid injustice, against his will, had two daughters, the\neldest called Scheherazade, and the youngest Dinarzade. The latter\nwas a lady of very great merit; but the elder had courage, wit, and\npenetration infinitely above her sex. She read much, and had such a\nprodigious memory, that she never forgot any thing she had read. She\nhad successfully applied herself to philosophy, physic, history, and\nthe liberal arts; and for verse exceeded the best poets of her time.\nBesides this, she was a perfect beauty, and all her fine\nqualifications were crowned by solid virtue.\n\nThe vizier passionately loved a daughter so worthy of his tender\naffection; and one day, as they were discoursing together, she says\nto him, Father, I have one favour to beg of you, and most humbly\npray you to grant it me. I will not refuse it, answers he, provided\nit be just and reasonable. For the justice of it, says she, there\ncan be no question, and you may judge of it by the motive which\nobliges me to demand it of you. I wish to stop the course of that\nbarbarity which the sultan exercises upon the families of this city.\nI would dispel those unjust fears which so many mothers have of\nlosing their daughters in such a fatal manner. Your design,\ndaughter, replies the vizier, is very commendable; but the evil you\nwould remedy to me seems incurable; how do you pretend to effect it?\n--Father, says Scheherazade, since by your means the sultan makes\nevery day a new marriage, I conjure you by the tender affection you\nbear to me, to procure me the honour of his bed. The vizier could\nnot hear this without horror. O heavens! replied he, in a passion,\nhave you lost your senses, daughter, that you make such a dangerous\nrequest to me? You know the sultan has sworn by his soul that he\nwill never lie above one night with the same woman, and to order her\nto be killed next morning: and would you have me propose you to him?\nConsider well to what your indiscreet zeal will expose you. --Yes,\ndear father, replies the virtuous daughter, I know the risk I run;\nbut that does not frighten me. If I perish, my death will be\nglorious; and if I succeed, I shall do my country an important piece\nof service. No, no, says the vizier, whatever you can represent to\nengage me to let you throw yourself into that horrible danger, do\nnot think that ever I will agree to it. When the sultan shall order\nme to strike my poinard into your heart, alas! I must obey him; and\nwhat an employment is that for a father! Ah! if you do not fear\ndeath, yet at least be afraid of occasioning me the mortal grief of\nseeing my hand stained with your blood. Once more, father, says\nScheherazade, grant me the favour I beg. Your stubbornness, replies\nthe vizier, will make me angry; why will you run headlong to your\nruin? They that do not foresee the end of a dangerous enterprise,\ncan never bring it to a happy issue. I am afraid the same thing will\nhappen to you that happened to the ass, which was well, and could\nnot keep himself so. What misfortune befell the ass? replies\nScheherazade. I will tell you, says the vizier, if you will hear me.\n\n\n\n\nFABLE.\nThe Ass, the Ox, and the Labourer.\n\n\nA very wealthy merchant possessed several country-houses, where he\nkept a large number of cattle of every kind. He retired with his\nwife and family to one of these estates, in order to improve it\nunder his own direction. He had the gift of understanding the\nlanguage of beasts, but with this condition, that he should not, on\npain of death, interpret it to any one else. And this hindered him\nfrom 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 near\nthem, and was amusing himself in looking at his children who were\nplaying about him, he heard the ox say to the ass, Sprightly, O! how\nhappy do I think you, when I consider the ease you enjoy, and the\nlittle labour that is required of you. You are carefully rubbed down\nand washed, you have well-dressed corn, and fresh clean water. Your\ngreatest business is to carry the merchant, our master, when he has\nany little journey to make, and were it not for that you would be\nperfectly idle. I am treated in a very different manner, and my\ncondition is as deplorable as yours is fortunate. Daylight no sooner\nappears than I am fastened to a plough, and made to work till night,\nwhich so fatigues me, that sometimes my strength entirely fails.\nBesides, the labourer, who is always behind me, beats me\ncontinually. By drawing the plough, my tail is all fleaed; and in\nshort, after having laboured from morning to night, when I am\nbrought in they give me nothing to eat but sorry dry beans, not so\nmuch as cleansed from dirt, or other food equally bad; and to\nheighten my misery, when I have filled my belly with such ordinary\nstuff, I am forced to lie all night in my own dung; so that you see\nI have reason to envy 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 are\ntoo simple; you suffer them to conduct you whither they please, and\nshow no manner of resolution. In the mean time, what advantage do\nyou reap from all the indignities you suffer? You kill yourself for\nthe ease, pleasure, and profit of those who give you no thanks for\nyour service. But they would not treat you so, if you had as much\ncourage as strength. When they come to fasten you to the stall, why\ndo you not resist? why do you not gore them with your horns, and\nshow that you are angry, by striking your foot against the ground?\nAnd, in short, why do you not frighten them by bellowing aloud?\nNature has furnished you with means to command respect; but you do\nnot use them. They bring you sorry beans and bad straw; eat none of\nthem; only smell and then leave them. If you follow my advice, you\nwill soon experience a change, for which you will thank me.\n\nThe ox took the ass\u2019s advice in very good part, and owned he was\nmuch obliged to him. Dear Sprightly, added he, I will not fail to do\nas you direct, and you shall see how I will acquit myself. Here\nended their conversation, of which the merchant lost not a word.\n\nEarly the next morning the labourer went for the ox. He fastened him\nto the plough, and conducted him to his usual work. The ox, who had\nnot forgotten the ass\u2019s 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 used\nto do, was restive, and drew back bellowing; and then made at the\nlabourer, as if he would have gored him with his horns. In a word,\nhe did all the ass had advised him. The day following, the labourer\ncame as usual, to take the ox to his labour; but finding the stall\nfull of beans, the straw that he had put in the night before not\ntouched, and the ox lying on the ground with his legs stretched out\nand panting in a strange manner, he believed him to be unwell and\npitied him, and thinking that it was not proper to take him to work,\nwent immediately and acquainted his master with his condition. The\nmerchant perceiving that the ox had followed all the mischievous\nadvice of the ass, determined to punish the latter, and accordingly\nordered the labourer to go and put him in the ox\u2019s place, and to\nbe sure to work him hard. The labourer did as he was desired. The\nass was forced to draw the plough all that day, which fatigued him\nso much the more, as he was not accustomed to that kind of labour;\nbesides, he had been so soundly beaten, that he could scarcely stand\nwhen he came back.\n\nMeanwhile, the ox was mightily pleased; he ate up all that was in\nthe stall, and rested himself the whole day. He rejoiced that he had\nfollowed the ass\u2019s advice, blessed him a thousand times for the\nkindness he had done him, and did not fail to express his obligation\nwhen the ass had returned. The ass made no reply, so vexed was he at\nthe ill-treatment he had received; but he said within himself, It is\nby my own imprudence I have brought this misfortune upon myself. I\nlived happily, every thing smiled upon me; I had all that I could\nwish; it is my own fault that I am brought to this miserable\ncondition; and if I cannot contrive some way to get out of it, I am\ncertainly undone. As he spoke, his strength was so much exhausted\nthat he fell down in his stall, as if he had been half dead.\n\nHere the grand vizier addressed himself to Scheherazade, and said,\nDaughter, you act just like this ass; you will expose yourself to\ndestruction by your erroneous policy. Take my advice, remain quiet,\nand do not seek to hasten your death. Father, replied Scheherazade,\nthe example you have set before me will not induce me to change my\nresolution. I will never cease importuning you until you present me\nto the sultan as his bride. The vizier, perceiving that she\npersisted in her demand, replied, Alas! then, since you will\ncontinue obstinate, I shall be obliged to treat you in the same\nmanner as the merchant whom I before referred to, treated his wife a\nshort time after.\n\nThe merchant understanding that the ass was in a lamentable\ncondition, was desirous of knowing what passed between him and the\nox, therefore, after supper he went out by moonlight, and sat down\nby them, his wife bearing him company. After his arrival, he heard\nthe ass say to the ox, Comrade, tell me, I pray you, what you intend\nto do to-morrow, when the labourer brings you meat? What will I do!\nreplied the ox, I will continue to act as you taught me. I will draw\nback from him and threaten him with my horns, as I did yesterday: I\nwill feign myself ill, and at the point of death. Beware of that,\nreplied the ass, it will ruin you; for as I came home this evening,\nI heard the merchant, our master, say something that makes me\ntremble for you. Alas! what did you hear? demanded the ox; as you\nlove me, withhold nothing from me, my dear Sprightly. Our master,\nreplied the ass, addressed himself thus to the labourer: Since the\nox does not eat and is not able to work, I would have him killed\nto-morrow, and we will give his flesh as an alms to the poor for\nGod\u2019s sake; as for the skin that will be of use to us, and I would\nhave you give it the currier to dress; therefore be sure to send for\nthe butcher. 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. As\nsoon as they bring you your bran and straw, rise up, and eat\nheartily. Our master will by this think that you are recovered, and\nno doubt will recall his orders for killing you; but, if you act\notherwise, you will certainly he slaughtered.\n\nThis discourse had the effect which the ass designed. The ox was\ngreatly alarmed, and bellowed for fear. The merchant, who heard the\nconversation very attentively, fell into a loud fit of laughter. His\nwife was greatly surprised, and asked, Pray, husband, tell me what\nyou laugh at so heartily, that I may laugh with you. Wife, replied\nhe, you must content yourself with hearing me laugh. No, returned\nshe, I will know the reason. I cannot afford you that satisfaction,\nanswered he, and can only inform you that I laugh at what our ass\njust now said to the ox. The rest is a secret, which I am not\nallowed to reveal. What, demanded she, hinders you from revealing\nthe secret? If I tell it you, replied he, I shall forfeit my life.\nYou only jeer me, cried his wife; what you would have me believe\ncannot be true. If you do not directly satisfy me as to what you\nlaugh at, and tell me what the ox and the ass said to one another, I\nswear by heaven that you and I shall never bed together again.\n\nHaving spoken thus, she went into the house, and seating herself in\na corner, cried there all night. Her husband lay alone, and finding\nnext morning that she continued in the same humour, told her, she\nwas very foolish to afflict herself in that manner; that the thing\nwas not worth so much; that it concerned her very little to know,\nwhile it was of the utmost consequence to him to keep the secret:\ntherefore, continued he, I conjure you to think no more of it. I\nshall still think so much of it, replied she, as never to forbear\nweeping till you have satisfied my curiosity. But I tell you very\nseriously, answered he, that it will cost me my life if I yield to\nyour indiscreet solicitations. Let what will happen, said she, I do\ninsist upon it. I perceive, resumed the merchant, that it is\nimpossible to bring you to reason, and since I foresee that you will\noccasion your own death by your obstinacy, I will call in your\nchildren, that they may see you before you die. Accordingly he\ncalled for them, and sent for her father and mother, and other\nrelations. When they were come, and heard the reason of their being\nsummoned, they did all they could to convince her that she was in\nthe wrong, but to no purpose: she told them that she would rather\ndie than yield that point to her husband. Her father and mother\nspoke to her, and told her that what she desired to know was of no\nimportance to her; but they could produce no effect upon her, either\nby their authority or entreaties. When her children saw that nothing\nwould prevail to draw her out of that sullen temper, they wept\nbitterly. The merchant himself was half frantic, and almost ready to\nrisk his own life to save that of his wife, whom he sincerely loved.\n\nNow, my daughter, continued the vizier to Scheherazade, this\nmerchant had fifty hens, and one cock, with a dog, that gave good\nheed to all that passed. While the merchant was, as I said,\nconsidering what he had best do, he saw his dog run towards the cock\nas he was 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 act thus\nto-day? The cock standing up on tiptoe, answered fiercely: and why\nnot to-day as well as other days? If you do not know, replied the\ndog, then I will tell you, that this day our master is in great\nperplexity. His wife would have him reveal a secret which is of such\na nature, that the disclosure would cost him his life. Things are\ncome to that pass, that it is to be feared he will scarcely have\nresolution enough to resist his wife\u2019s obstinacy; for he loves\nher, and is affected by the tears she continually sheds. We are all\nalarmed at his situation, while you only insult our melancholy, and\nhave the impudence to divert yourself with your hens.\n\nThe cock answered the dog\u2019s reproof thus: What, has our master so\nlittle sense? he has but one wife, and cannot govern her, and though\nI have fifty I make them all do what I please. Let him use his\nreason, he will soon find a way to get rid of his trouble. How?\ndemanded the dog; what would you have him to do? Let him go into the\nroom where his wife is, resumed the cock, lock the door, and take a\nstick and thrash her well; and I will answer for it, that will bring\nher to her senses, and make her forbear to importune him to discover\nwhat he ought not to reveal. The merchant had no sooner heard what\nthe cock said, than he took up a stick, went to his wife whom he\nfound still crying, and shutting the door, belaboured her so\nsoundly, that she cried out \u201cEnough, husband, enough, forbear, and\nI will never ask the question more.\u201d Upon this, perceiving that\nshe repented 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 to\nbring his wife to reason. Daughter, added the grand vizier, you\ndeserve to be treated as the merchant treated his wife.\n\nFather, replied Scheherazade, I beg you would not take it ill that I\npersist in my opinion. I am nothing moved by the story of this\nwoman. I could relate many, to persuade you that you ought not to\noppose my design. Besides, pardon me for declaring, that your\nopposition is vain, for if your paternal affection should hinder you\nfrom granting my request, I will go and offer myself to the sultan.\nIn short, the father, being overcome by the resolution of his\ndaughter, yielded to her importunity, and though he was much grieved\nthat he could not divert her from so fatal a resolution, he went\ninstantly to acquaint the sultan, that next night he would bring him\nScheherazade.\n\nThe sultan was much surprised at the sacrifice which the grand\nvizier proposed to make. How could you, says he, resolve to bring me\nyour own daughter? Sir, answered the vizier, it is her own offer.\nThe sad destiny that awaits her could not intimidate her; she\nprefers the honour of being your majesty\u2019s wife for one night, to\nher life. But do not act under a mistake, vizier, said the sultan;\nto-morrow when I place Scheherazade in your hands, I expect you will\nput her to death; and if you fail, I swear that your own life shall\nanswer. Sir, rejoined the vizier, my heart without doubt will be\nfull of grief to execute your commands; but it is to no purpose for\nnature to murmur. Though I am her father, I will answer for the\nfidelity of my hand to obey your order. Schahriar accepted his\nminister\u2019s offer, and told him he might bring his daughter when he\npleased.\n\nThe grand vizier went with the intelligence to Scheherazade, 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; and\nthat, on the contrary, he should have reason to rejoice at his\ncompliance all his days.\n\nHer business now was to adorn herself to appear before the sultan;\nbut before she went, she took her sister Dinarzade apart, and said\nto her, My dear sister, I have need of your assistance in a matter\nof great importance, and must pray you not to deny it me. My father\nis going to conduct me to the sultan: do not let this alarm you, but\nhear me with patience. As soon as I am in his presence, I will pray\nhim to allow you to lie in the bride-chamber, that I may enjoy your\ncompany this one night more. If I obtain that favour, as I hope to\ndo, remember to awake me to-morrow an hour before day, and to\naddress me in these or some such words, \u201cMy sister, if you be not\nasleep. I pray you that till day-break, which will be very shortly,\nyou will relate to me one of the entertaining stories of which you\nhave read so many.\u201d I will immediately tell you one; and I hope by\nthis means to deliver the city from the consternation it is under at\npresent. Dinarzade answered that she would with pleasure act as she\nrequired her.\n\nThe grand vizier conducted Scheherazade to the palace, and retired,\nafter having introduced her into the sultan\u2019s apartment. As soon\nas the sultan was left alone with her, he ordered her to uncover her\nface; he found her so beautiful, that he was perfectly charmed; but\nperceiving her to be in tears, demanded the reason. Sir, answered\nScheherazade. I have a sister who loves me tenderly, and I could\nwish that she might be allowed to pass the night in this chamber,\nthat I might see her, and once more bid her adieu. Will you be\npleased to allow me the consolation of giving her this last\ntestimony of my affection? Schahriar having consented, Dinarzade was\nsent for, who came with all possible expedition.\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 pray\nthat until day-break, which will be very shortly, you will tell me\none of those pleasant stories you have read. Alas! this may perhaps\nbe the last time that I shall enjoy that pleasure.\n\nScheherazade, instead of answering her sister, addressed herself to\nthe sultan; Sir, will your majesty be pleased to allow me to afford\nmy sister this satisfaction? With all my heart, replied the sultan.\nScheherazade then bade her sister attend, and afterwards addressing\nherself to Schahriar, proceeded as follows.\n\n\n\n\nFIRST NIGHT.\n\nThe Merchant and the Genii.\n\n\nSir, --There was formerly a merchant, who had a great estate in\nlands, goods, and money. He had abundance of deputies, factors, and\nslaves. He was obliged from time to time to take journeys, and talk\nwith his correspondents: and one day, being under a necessity of\ngoing a long journey, about an affair of importance, he took horse,\nand put a portmanteau behind him, with some biscuits and dates,\nbecause he had a great desert to pass over, where he could have no\nmanner of provisions. He arrived, without any accident, at the end\nof his journey; and having dispatched his affairs, took horse again,\nin order to return home.\n\nThe fourth day of his journey, he was so much incommoded by the heat\nof the sun, and the reflection of that heat from the earth, that he\nturned out of the road, to refresh himself under some trees, that he\nsaw in the country. There he found, at the foot of a great walnut\ntree, a fountain of very clear running water; and alighting, tied\nhis horse to a branch of a tree, and sitting down by the fountain,\ntook some biscuits and dates out of his portmanteau; and as he ate\nhis dates, threw the shells about on both sides of him. When he had\ndone eating, being a good Mussulman, he washed his hands, his face,\nand his feet, and said his prayers. He had not made an end, but was\nstill on his knees, when he saw a genie appear, all white with age,\nand of a monstrous bulk; who, advancing towards him with a scimitar\nin his hand, spoke to him in a terrible voice thus: Rise up, that I\nmay kill thee with this scimitar, as you have killed my son; and\naccompanied those words with a frightful cry. The merchant, being as\nmuch frightened at the hideous shape of the monster as at those\nthreatening words, answered him, trembling, Alas, my good lord, of\nwhat crime can I be guilty towards you, that you should take away my\nlife? I will, replies the genie, kill thee, as thou hast killed my\nson. O, heaven! says the merchant, how should I kill your son? I did\nnot know him, nor ever saw him. Did not you sit down when you came\nhither? replies the genie. Did not you take dates out of your\nportmanteau, and, as you ate them, did not you throw the shells\nabout on both sides? I did all that you say, answers the merchant; I\ncannot deny it. If it be so, replied the genie, I tell thee that\nthou hast killed my son; and the way was thus: when you threw the\nnutshells about, my son was passing by, and you threw one of them\ninto his eye, which killed him, and therefore I must kill thee. Ah!\nmy lord, pardon me, cried the merchant. No pardon, answers the\ngenie, no mercy: is it not just to kill him that has killed another?\nI agree to it, says the merchant, but certainly I never killed your\nson; and if I have, it was unknown to me, and I did it innocently;\ntherefore I beg you to pardon me, and suffer me to live. No, no,\nsays the genie, persisting in his resolution; I must kill thee,\nsince thou hast killed my son; and then, taking the merchant by the\narm, threw him with his face upon the ground, and lifted up his\nscimitar to cut off his head.\n\nThe merchant, all in tears, protested he was innocent, bewailed his\nwife and children, and spoke to the genie in the most moving\nexpressions that could be uttered. The genie, with his scimitar\nstill lifted up, had so much patience as to hear the wretch make an\nend of his lamentations, but would not relent. All this whining,\nsays the monster, is to no purpose; though you should shed tears of\nblood, that shall not hinder me from killing thee, as thou hast\nkilled my son. Why, replied the merchant, can nothing prevail with\nyou? Will you absolutely take away the life of a poor innocent? Yes,\nreplied the genie, I am resolved upon it. As she had spoken these\nwords, perceiving it was day, and knowing that the sultan rose\nbetimes in the morning to say his prayers, and hold his council,\nScheherazade held her peace. Lord! sister, says Dinarzade, what a\nwonderful story is this! The remainder of it, says Scheherazade, is\nmore surprising; and you will be of my mind, if the sultan will let\nme live this day, and permit me to tell it you the next night.\nSchahriar, who had listened to Scheherazade with pleasure, says to\nhimself, I will stay till to-morrow, for I can at any time put her\nto death, when she has made an end of her story. So, having resolved\nnot to take away Scheherazade\u2019s life that day, he rose, and went\nto his prayers, and then called his council.\n\n[Illustration: THE MERCHANT AND GENIUS.]\n\nAll this while the grand vizier was terribly uneasy. Instead of\nsleeping, he spent the night in sighs and groans, bewailing the loss\nof his daughter, of whom he believed that he himself should be the\nexecutioner. And as, in this melancholy prospect, he was afraid of\nseeing the sultan, he was agreeably surprised when he saw the prince\nenter the council chamber, without giving him the fatal orders he\nexpected.\n\nThe sultan, according to his custom, spent the day in regulating his\naffairs; and when night came, he went to bed with Scheherazade. Next\nmorning, before day, Dinarzade failed not to address herself to her\nsister thus: My dear sister, if you be not asleep, I pray you, till\nday-break, which must be in a very little time, to go on with the\nstory you began last night. The sultan, without staying till\nScheherazade asked him leave, bid her make an end of the story of\nthe genie and the merchant, for I long to hear the issue of it. Upon\nwhich Scheherazade spoke, and continued the story, as follows:\n\n\n\n\nSECOND NIGHT.\n\n\nWhen the merchant saw that the genie was going to cut off his head,\nhe cried out aloud, and said to him, For heaven\u2019s sake, hold your\nhand! Allow me one word: be so good as to grant me some respite;\nallow me but time to bid my wife and children adieu, and to divide\nmy estate among them by will, that they may not go to law with one\nanother, after my death; and when I have done so, I will come back\nto the same place, and submit to whatever you shall please to order\nconcerning me. But, says the genie, if I grant you the time you\ndemand, I doubt you will never return. If you will believe my oath,\nanswers the merchant, I swear by all that is sacred that I will come\nand meet you here without fail. What time do you demand then?\nreplies the genie. I ask a year, says the merchant; I cannot have\nless to order my affairs, and to prepare myself to die without\nregret. But I promise you, that this day twelvemonths I will return\nunder those trees, to put myself into your hands. Do you take heaven\nto be witness to this promise? says the genie. I do, answers the\nmerchant, and repeat it, and you may rely upon my oath. Upon this,\nthe genie left him near the fountain, and disappeared.\n\nThe merchant, being recovered from his fright, mounted his horse,\nand set forward on his journey; and as he was glad, on the one hand,\nthat he had escaped so great a danger, so he was mortally sorry, on\nthe other, when he thought on his fatal oath. When he came home, his\nwife and children received him with all the demonstrations of\nperfect joy; but he, instead of making them suitable returns, fell\nto weeping bitterly; from whence they readily conjectured that\nsomething extraordinary had befallen him. His wife asked the reason\nof his excessive grief and tears: We are all overjoyed, says she, at\nyour return, but you frighten us to see you in this condition; pray\ntell us the cause of your sorrow. Alas! replies the husband, the\ncause of it is, that I have but a year to live; and then he told\nwhat had passed between him and the genie, and that he had given him\nhis oath to return at the end of the year, to receive death from his\nhands.\n\nWhen they had heard this sad news, they all began to lament\nheartily. His wife made a pitiful outcry, beat her face, and tore\nher hair. The children, all in tears, made the house resound with\ntheir groans: and the father, not being able to overcome nature,\nmingled his tears with theirs; so that, in a word, it was the most\naffecting spectacle that any man could behold.\n\nNext morning, the merchant applied himself to put his affairs in\norder, and, first of all, to pay his debts. He made presents to his\nfriends; gave great alms to the poor; set his slaves of both sexes\nat liberty; divided his estate among his children; appointed\nguardians for such of them as were not come of age; and, restoring\nto his wife all that was due to her by contract of marriage, he gave\nher, over and above, all that he could do by law.\n\nAt last the year expired, and go he must. He put his burial clothes\nin his portmanteau; but never was there such grief seen as when he\ncame to bid his wife and children adieu. They could not think of\nparting, but resolved to go and die with him; but finding that he\nmust be forced to part with those dear objects, he spoke to them\nthus: My dear wife and children, says he, I obey the order of Heaven\nin quitting you; follow my example, submit courageously to this\nnecessity, and consider that it is the destiny of man to die. Having\nsaid these words, he went out of the hearing of the cries of his\nfamily; and taking his journey, arrived at the place where he\npromised to meet the genie on the day appointed. He alighted, and\nsetting himself down by the fountain, waited the coming of the genie\nwith all the sorrow imaginable. Whilst he languished in this cruel\nexpectation, a good old man, leading a hind, appeared, and drew near\nhim. They saluted one another; after which the old man says to him,\nBrother, may I ask you why you are come into this desert place,\nwhere there is nothing but evil spirits, and by consequence you\ncannot be safe? To look upon these fine trees, indeed, one would\nthink the place inhabited; but it is a true wilderness, where it is\nnot safe to stay long.\n\nThe merchant satisfied his curiosity, and told him the adventure\nwhich obliged him to be there. The old man listened to him with\nastonishment, and when he had done, cried out, This is the most\nsurprising thing in the world; and you are bound with the most\ninviolable oath; however, I will be witness of your interview with\nthe genie. And sitting down by the merchant, they talked together.\nBut I see day, says Scheherazade, and must leave off; yet the best\nof the story is to come. The sultan, resolving to hear the end of\nit, suffered her to live that day also.\n\n\n\n\nTHIRD NIGHT.\n\n\nNext morning, Dinarzade made the same request to her sister as\nformerly: My dear sister, says she, if you be not asleep, tell me\none of those pleasant stories that you have read. But the sultan,\nwilling to understand what followed between the merchant and the\ngenie, bid her go on with that, which she did, as follows:\n\nSir, while the merchant, and the old man who led the hind, were\ntalking, they saw another old man coming to them, followed by two\nblack dogs. After they had saluted one another, he asked them what\nthey did in that place. The old man with the hind, told him the\nadventure of the merchant and genie, with all that had passed\nbetween them, particularly the merchant\u2019s oath. He added, that it\nwas the day agreed on, and that he was resolved to stay and see the\nissue.\n\nThe second old man, thinking it also worth his curiosity, resolved\nto do the like: he likewise sat down by them; and they had scarce\nbegan to talk together, but there came a third old man, who\naddressing himself to the two former, asked why the merchant that\nsat with them looked so melancholy. They told him the reason of it,\nwhich appeared so extraordinary to him, that he also resolved to be\nwitness to the result; and for that end sat down with them.\n\nIn a little time, they perceived in the field a thick vapour, like a\ncloud of dust raised by a whirlwind, advancing towards them, which\nvanished all of a sudden, and then the genie appeared; who, without\nsaluting them, came up to the merchant with a drawn scimitar, and\ntaking him by the arm, says, Get thee up, that I may kill thee, as\nthou didst my son. The merchant and the three old men, being\nfrightened, began to lament, and to fill the air with their cries.\nHere Scheherazade, perceiving day, left off her story; which did so\nmuch whet the sultan\u2019s curiosity, that he was absolutely resolved\nto hear the end of it, and put off the sultaness\u2019s execution till\nthe next day.\n\nNobody can express the grand vizier\u2019s joy when he perceived that\nthe sultan did not order him to kill Scheherazade: his family, the\ncourt, and all the people in general, were astonished at it.\n\n\n\n\nFOURTH NIGHT.\n\n\nTowards the end of the following night, Dinarzade failed not to\nawake the sultaness. My dear sister, says she, if you be not asleep,\npray tell me one of your fine stories. Then Scheherazade, with the\nsultan\u2019s permission, spoke as follows:\n\nSir, when the old man who led the hind saw the genie lay hold of the\nmerchant, and about to kill him without mercy, he threw himself at\nthe feet of the monster, and, kissing them, says to him, Prince of\ngenies, I most humbly request you to suspend your anger, and do me\nthe favour to hear me. I will tell you the history of my life, and\nof the hind you see; and if you think it more wonderful and\nsurprising than the adventure of the merchant you are going to kill,\nI hope you will pardon the poor unfortunate man the third of his\ncrime. The genie took some time to consult upon it, out answered at\nlast, Well, then, I agree to it.\n\nThe History of the first Old Man, and the Hind.\n\nI shall begin, then, says the old man; listen to me, I pray you,\nwith attention. This hind you see is my cousin; nay, what is more,\nmy wife: she was only twelve years or age when I married her, so\nthat I may justly say, she ought as much to regard me as her father,\nas her kinsman and husband.\n\nWe lived together twenty years without any children; yet her\nbarrenness did not hinder my having a great deal of complaisance and\nfriendship for her. The desire of having children only made me buy a\nslave, by whom I had a son, who was extremely promising. My wife\nbeing jealous, conceived a hatred for both mother and child, but\nconcealed it so well, that I did not know it till it was too late.\n\nMean time my son grew up, and was ten years old, when I was obliged\nto undertake a journey. Before I went, I recommended to my wife, of\nwhom I had no mistrust, the slave and her son, and prayed her to\ntake care of them during my absence, which was for a whole year. She\nmade use of that time to satisfy her hatred; she applied herself to\nmagic, and when she knew enough of that diabolical art to execute\nher horrible contrivance, the wretch carried my son to a desolate\nplace, where by her enchantments, she changed my son into a calf,\nand gave him to my farmer to fatten, pretending she had bought him.\nHer fury did not stop at this abominable action, but she likewise\nchanged the slave into a cow, and gave her also to my farmer.\n\nAt my return, I asked for the mother and child: Your slave, says\nshe, is dead; and as for your son, I know not what has become of\nhim. I have not seen him these two months. I was troubled at the\ndeath of the slave, but my son having only disappeared, as she told\nme, I was in hopes he would return in a little time. However, eight\nmonths passed, and I heard nothing of him. When the festival of the\ngreat Bairam happened, to celebrate the same, I sent to my farmer\nfor one of the fattest cows, to sacrifice, and he sent me one\naccordingly. The cow which he brought me was my slave, the\nunfortunate mother of my son. I tied her, but as I was going to\nsacrifice her, she bellowed pitifully, and I could perceive streams\nof tears run from her eyes. This seemed to me very extraordinary;\nand finding myself, in spite of all I could do, inspired with pity,\nI could 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 compassion, and,\nopposing herself to an order which disappointed her malice, she\ncries out, What are you doing, husband? Sacrifice that cow: your\nfarmer has not a finer, nor one fitter for that use. Out of\ncomplaisance to my wife, I came again to the cow, and, combating my\ncompassion, which suspended the sacrifice, was going to give her the\nfatal blow, when the victim, redoubling her tears and bellowing,\ndisarmed me a second time. Then I put the mallet into the farmer\u2019s\nhands, and bid him take and sacrifice her himself, for her tears and\nbellowing pierced my heart.\n\nThe farmer, less compassionate than I, sacrificed her; and when he\nflayed her, found her to be nothing but bones, though to us she\nseemed very fat. Take her to yourself, says I to the farmer, I quit\nher to you; give her in alms, or which way you will; and if you have\na very fat calf, bring it me in her stead. I did not inform myself\nwhat he did with the cow; but, soon after he took her away, he came\nwith a very fat calf. Though I knew not the calf was my son, yet I\ncould not forbear being moved at the sight of him. On his part, as\nsoon as he saw me, he made so great an effort to come to me, that he\nbroke his cord, threw himself at my feet, with his head against the\nground, as if he meant to excite my compassion, conjuring me not to\nbe so cruel as to take his life; and did as much as was possible for\nhim to do, to signify that he was my son.\n\nI was more surprised and affected with this action, than with the\ntears of the cow; I felt a tender pity, which made me interest\nmyself for him, or, rather, nature did its duty. Go, says I to the\nfarmer, carry home that calf, take great care of him, and bring me\nanother in his place immediately.\n\nAs soon as my wife heard me say so, she immediately cried out, What\ndo you do, husband? Take my advice, sacrifice no other calf but\nthat. Wife, says I, I will not sacrifice him; I will spare him, and\npray do not you oppose it. The wicked woman had no regard to my\ndesire; she hated my son too much to consent that I should save him.\nI tied the poor creature, and taking up the fatal knife --Here\nScheherazade stopped, because she perceived daylight.\n\nThen Dinarzade said, Sister, I am enchanted with this story, which\nso agreeably calls for my attention. If the sultan will suffer me to\nlive to-day, answers Scheherazade, what I have to tell to-morrow\nwill divert you abundantly more. Schahriar, curious to know what\nwould become of the old man\u2019s son that led the hind, told the\nsultaness he would be very glad to hear the end of that story next\nnight.\n\n\n\n\nFIFTH NIGHT.\n\n\nWhen day began to draw near, Dinarzade put her sister\u2019s orders in\nexecution very exactly, who, being awaked, prayed the sultan to\nallow her to give Dinarzade that satisfaction; which the prince, who\ntook so much pleasure in the story himself, willingly agreed to.\n\nSir, then, says Scheherazade, the first old man who lead the hind,\ncontinuing his story to the genie, to the other two old men, and the\nmerchant, proceeded thus: I took the knife, says he, and was going\nto strike it into my son\u2019s throat; when turning his eyes bathed\nwith tears, in a languishing manner towards me, he affected me so\nthat I had no strength to sacrifice him, but let the knife fall, and\ntold my wife positively that I would have another calf to sacrifice,\nand not that. She used all endeavours to make me change my\nresolution; but I continued firm, and pacified her a little, by\npromising that I would sacrifice him against the Bairam next year.\n\nNext morning my farmer desired to speak with me alone, and told me,\nI come, says he, to tell you a piece of news, for which I hope you\nwill return me thanks. I have a daughter that has some skill in\nmagic. Yesterday, as I carried back the calf which you would not\nsacrifice, I perceived she laughed when she saw him, and in a moment\nafter fell a weeping. I asked her why she acted two such contrary\nparts at one and the same time. Father, replied she, the calf you\nbring back is our landlord\u2019s son: I laughed for joy to see him\nstill alive, and I wept at the remembrance of the sacrifice that was\nmade the other day of his mother, who was changed into a cow. These\ntwo metamorphoses were made by the enchantments of our master\u2019s\nwife, who hated both the mother and son. This is what my daughter\ntold me, said the farmer, and I come to acquaint you with it.\n\nAt these words, the old man adds, I leave you to think, my lord\ngenie, how much I was surprised: I went immediately to my farmer, to\nspeak with his daughter myself. As soon as I came, I went forthwith\nto the stall where my son was: he could not answer my embraces, but\nreceived them in such a manner as fully satisfied me he was my son.\n\nThe former\u2019s daughter came: My good maid, says I, can you restore\nmy son to his former shape? Yes, says she, I can. Ah! says I, if you\ncan, I will make you mistress of all my fortune. She replied to me,\nsmiling, You are our master, and I know very well what I owe to you;\nbut I cannot restore your son into his former shape but on two\nconditions: the first is, that you give him me for my husband; and\nthe second is, that you allow me to punish the person who changed\nhim into a calf. For the first, says I, I agree to it with all my\nheart; nay, I promise you more --a considerable estate for yourself,\nindependent of what I design for my son: in a word, you shall see\nhow I will reward the great service I expect from you. As to what\nrelates to my wife, I also agree to it; a person who has been\ncapable of committing such a criminal action deserves very well to\nbe punished: I leave her to you, only I must pray you not to take\nher life. I am just going then, answers she, to treat her as she has\ntreated your son. I agree to it, says I, provided you restore my son\nto me beforehand.\n\nThen the damsel took a vessel full of water, pronounced over it\nwords that I did not understand, and, addressing herself to the\ncalf, O, calf, says she, if thou wast created by the almighty and\nsovereign Master of the World such as you appear at this time,\ncontinue in that form; but, if thou be a man, and art changed into a\ncalf by enchantment, return to thy natural shape, by the permission\nof the sovereign Creator. As she spoke these words, she threw water\nupon him, and in an instant, he recovered his first shape.\n\nMy son, my dear son, cried I, immediately embracing him, with such a\ntransport of joy that I knew not what I was doing: it is Heaven that\nhas sent us this young maid, to take off the horrible charm by which\nyou were enchanted, and to avenge the injury done to you and your\nmother. I doubt not but, in acknowledgment, you will take your\ndeliverer to wife, as I have promised. He consented to it with joy:\nbut, before they married, she changed my wife into a hind; and this\nis she whom you see here. I desired she should have this shape,\nrather than another less agreeable, that we might see her in the\nfamily without horror.\n\nSince that time, my son is become a widower, and gone to travel;\nand, it being several years since I heard of him, I am come abroad\nto inquire after him; and not being willing to trust any body with\nmy wife till I should come home, I thought fit to carry her every\nwhere with me. This is the history of myself and this hind: is it\nnot one of the most wonderful and surprising that can be? --I agree\nto it, says the genie, and upon that account I forgive the merchant\nthe third of his crime.\n\nWhen the first old man, sir, continued the sultaness, had finished\nhis story, the second, who led the two black dogs, addressed himself\nto the genie, and says to him: I am going to tell you what happened\nto me and those two black dogs you see by me, and I am certain you\nwill say that my story is yet more surprising than that which you\nhave just now heard; but, when I have told it you, I hope you will\nbe pleased to pardon the merchant the second third of his crime.\nYes, replies the genie, provided your story surpass that of the\nhind. Then the second old man began in this manner. But, as\nScheherazade pronounced these words, she saw it was day, and left\noff speaking.\n\nO, heaven! sister, says Dinarzade, these adventures are very\nsingular. Sister, replies the sultaness, they are not comparable to\nthose which I have to tell you next night, if the sultan, my lord\nand master, be so good as to let me live. Schahriar answered nothing\nto that; but rose up, said his prayers, and went to council, without\ngiving any order against the life of the charming Scheherazade.\n\n\n\n\nSIXTH NIGHT.\n\n\nThe sixth night being come, the sultan and his lady went to bed.\nDinarzade awaked at the usual hour, and, calling to the sultaness,\nsays, Dear sister, if you be not asleep, I pray you, until it be\nday, to satisfy my curiosity: I am impatient to hear the story of\nthe old man and the two black dogs. The sultan consented to it with\npleasure, being no less desirous to know the story than Dinarzade;\nand Scheherazade continued it as follows:\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of the second Old Man and the two Black Dogs.\n\n\nGreat prince of genii, says the old man, you must know that we are\nthree brothers, I and the two black dogs you see. Our father, when\nhe died, left each of us one thousand sequins. With that sum we all\nentered into the same way of living, and became merchants. A little\ntime after we had opened shop, my eldest brother, one of these two\ndogs, resolved to travel, and trade in foreign countries. With this\nview, he sold his estate, and bought goods proper for the trade he\nintended.\n\nHe went away, and was absent a whole year; at the end of which, a\npoor man, who I thought had come to ask alms, presented himself\nbefore me in my shop. I said to him, God help you. God help you\nalso, answered he: is it possible you do not know me? Upon this I\nlooked at him narrowly, and knew him. Ah, brother, cried I,\nembracing him, how could I know you in this condition? I made him\ncome into my house, and asked him concerning his health and the\nsuccess of his travels. Do not ask me that question, says he: when\nyou see me, you see all: it would only renew my grief to tell you\nall the particulars of the misfortunes that have befallen me, and\nreduced me to this condition, since I left you.\n\nI immediately shut up my shop, and carrying him to a bath, gave him\nthe best clothes I had by me; and, examining my books, and finding\nthat I had doubled my stock, that is to say, that I was worth two\nthousand sequins, I gave him one half: With that, says I, brother,\nyou may make up your loss. He joyfully accepted the proffer,\nrecovered himself, and 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. I, and his other brother, did all\nwe could to divert him from it, but without effect. He sold it, and\nwith the money bought such goods as were suitable to the trade he\ndesigned. He joined a caravan, and took a journey. He returned, at\nthe end of the year, in the same condition as my other brother; and\nI, having gained another thousand sequins, gave him them, with which\nhe furnished his shop, and continued to follow his trade.\n\nSome time after, one of my brothers came to me to propose a trading\nvoyage with them. I immediately rejected their proposal. You have\ntravelled, says I, and what have you gained by it? Who can assure me\nthat I shall be more successful than you have been. They represented\nto me, in vain, all that they thought fit, to prevail upon me to\nengage in that design with them, for I constantly refused: but they\nimportuned me so much, that after having resisted their\nsolicitations five whole years, they overcame me at last. But, when\nwe were to make preparations for our voyage, and to buy goods\nnecessary to the undertaking, I found they had spent all, and that\nthey had not one farthing left of the thousand sequins I had given\neach of them. I did not, however, upbraid them in the least. On the\ncontrary, my stock being six thousand sequins, I shared the half of\nit with them, telling them, My brothers, we must venture these three\nthousand sequins, and hide the rest in some sure place; that, in\ncase our voyage be no more successful than your\u2019s was formerly, we\nmay have wherewith to assist us, and to follow our ancient way of\nliving. I gave each of them a thousand sequins, and, keeping as much\nfor myself, I buried the other three thousand in a corner of my\nhouse. We bought our goods, and, after having embarked them on board\nof a vessel, which we freighted betwixt us three, we put to sea,\nwith a favourable wind. After a month\u2019s sail --But I see day, says\nScheherazade; I must stop here.\n\nSister, says Dinarzade, this story promises a great deal; I fancy\nthe rest of it must be very extraordinary. You are not mistaken,\nsays the sultaness; and, if the sultan will allow me to tell it you,\nI am persuaded, it will very much divert you. Schahriar got up, as\nhe did the day before, without explaining his mind, but gave no\norder to the grand vizier to kill his daughter.\n\n\n\n\nSEVENTH NIGHT.\n\n\nWhen the seventh night drew near a close, Dinarzade awaked the\nsultaness, and prayed her to continue the story of the second old\nman. I will, answered Scheherazade, provided the sultan, my lord and\nmaster, does not oppose it. Not at all, says Schahriar; I am so far\nfrom opposing it, that I desire you earnestly to go on with it.\n\nTo resume the thread of the story, says Scheherazade, you must know,\nthat the old man who led the two dogs, continued his story to the\ngenie, the other two old men, and the merchant, thus: In short, says\nhe, after two months\u2019 sail, we arrived happily at port, where we\nlanded and had a very great vent for our goods. I, especially, sold\nmine so well, that I gamed ten to one, and we bought commodities of\nthat country, to transport and sell in our own.\n\nWhen we were ready to embark, in order to return, I met upon the\nbank of the sea a lady, handsome enough, but poorly clad. She came\nup to me presently, kissed my hand, prayed me, with the greatest\nearnestness imaginable, to marry her, and take her along with me. I\nmade some difficulty to agree to it; but she said so many things to\npersuade me that I ought to make no objection to her poverty, and\nthat I should have all the reason in the world to be satisfied with\nher conduct, that I yielded. I ordered proper apparel to be made for\nher; and after having married her, according to form, I took her on\nboard, and we set sail. During the navigation, I found the wife I\nhad taken had so many good qualities, that I loved her every day\nmore and more. In the mean time, my two brothers, who had not\nmanaged their affairs so well as I did mine, envied my prosperity;\nand their fury carried them so far as to conspire against my life;\nso that, one night, when my wife and I were asleep, they threw us\nboth into the sea.\n\nMy wife was a fairy, and, by consequence, a genie, you know well she\ncould not be drowned; but for me, it is certain I had been lost\nwithout her help. I had scarce fallen into the water when she took\nme up, and carried me to an island. When it was day, the fairy said\nto me, You see, husband, that, by saving your life, I have not\nrewarded you ill for your kindness to me. You must know, that I am a\nfairy, and that, being upon the bank of the sea when you were going\nto embark, I found I had a strong inclination for you: I had a mind\nto try your goodness, and presented myself before you in that\ndisguise wherein you saw me. You have dealt very generously with me,\nand I am very glad to have found an opportunity of testifying my\nacknowledgment to you. But I am incensed against your brothers, and\nnothing will satisfy me but their lives.\n\nI listened to this discourse of the fairy with admiration; I thanked\nher, as well as I could, for the great kindness she had done me:\nbut, madam, says I, as for my brothers, I beg you to pardon them;\nwhatever cause they have given me, I am not cruel enough to desire\ntheir death. I told her the particulars of what I had done for them,\nwhich increased her indignation so that she cried out, I must\nimmediately pursue those ungrateful traitors, and take speedy\nvengeance on them: I will drown their vessel, and throw them into\nthe bottom of the sea. No, my good lady, replied I, for Heaven\u2019s\nsake, do not so; moderate your anger; consider that they are my\nbrothers, and that we must do good for evil.\n\nI pacified the fairy by those words; and, as soon as I had spoken\nthem, she transported me, in a moment, from the island where we were\nto the roof of my own house, which was terrassed, and disappeared in\na moment. I went down, opened the doors, and dug up the three\nthousand sequins I had hid. I went afterwards to the place where my\nshop was, which I also opened; and was complimented by the\nmerchants, my neighbours, upon my return. When I went to my house, I\nperceived two black dogs, which came to me in a very submissive\nmanner: I knew not what it meant, but was much astonished at it. But\nthe fairy, who appeared immediately, says to me, husband, be not\nsurprised to see these two black dogs by you; they are your two\nbrothers. I was troubled at these words, and asked her by what power\nthey were so transformed. It was I who did it, says she; at least, I\ngave commission to one of my sisters to do it, who at the same time\nsunk their ship. You have lost the goods you had on board, but I\nwill make it up to you another way. As to your two brothers, I have\ncondemned them to remain five years in that shape: their\nperfidiousness too well deserves such a penance. And, in short,\nafter having told me where I might hear of her, she disappeared.\n\nNow, the five years being out, I am travelling in quest of her; and,\nas I passed this way, I met this merchant and the good old man that\nled the hind, and sat down by them. This is my history, O prince of\ngenii! do not you think it very extraordinary? I own it, says the\ngenie; and, upon that account, I remit the merchant the second third\nof the crime which he committed against me.\n\nAs soon as the second old man had finished his story, the third\nbegan, and made the like request of the genie with the two first;\nthat is to say, to pardon the merchant the other third of his crime,\nprovided the story he had to tell him exceeded the two he had\nalready heard for singular events. The genie made him the same\npromise as he had done the other two. Hearken, then, says the old\nman to him --but day appears, says Scheherazade; I must stop here.\n\nI cannot enough admire, sister, says Dinarzade, the adventures you\nhave told me. I know abundance more, says the sultaness, that are\nstill more wonderful. Schahriar, willing to know if the story of the\nthird old man would be as agreeable as that of the second, put off\nthe execution of Scheherazade till the next day.\n\n\n\n\nEIGHTH NIGHT.\n\n\nAs soon as Dinarzade perceived it was time to call the sultaness,\nshe says, sister, I have been awake a long time, and had a great\nmind to awake you, I am so impatient to hear the story of the third\nold man. The sultan answered, I can hardly think that the third\nstory will surpass the two former ones.\n\nSir, replies the sultaness, the third old man told his story to the\ngenie: I cannot tell it to you, because it is not come to my\nknowledge; but I know that it did so much exceed the two former\nstories, in the variety of wonderful adventures, that the genie was\nastonished at it, and no sooner heard the end of it, but he said to\nthe third old man, I remit the other third part of the merchant\u2019s\ncrime upon the account of your story. He is very much obliged to all\nthree of you for having delivered him out of this danger, by your\nstories, without which he had not now been in the world. And, having\nspoke thus, he disappeared to the great contentment of the company.\n\nThe merchant failed not to give his three deliverers the thanks he\nowed them. They rejoiced to see him out of danger; after which they\nbade him adieu, and each of them went on his way. The merchant\nreturned to his wife and children, and passed the rest of his days\nwith them in peace. But, sir, added Scheherazade, now pleasant\nsoever these stories may be, that I have told your majesty hitherto,\nthey do not come near that of the fisherman. Dinarzade, perceiving\nthat the sultaness demurred, says to her, sister, since there is\nstill some time remaining, pray tell us the story of the fisherman,\nif the sultan is willing. Schahriar agreed to it; and Scheherazade,\nresuming her discourse, pursued it in this manner:\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of the Fisherman.\n\n\nSir --There was a very ancient fisherman, so poor, that he could\nscarce earn enough to maintain himself, his wife, and three\nchildren. He went every day to fish betimes in a morning; and\nimposed it as a law upon himself, not to cast his nets above four\ntimes a day. He went one morning by moonlight, and coming to the\nsea-side, 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 within himself; but in a\nmoment after perceiving, that, instead of fish, there was nothing in\nhis nets but the carcass of an ass, he was much vexed. Scheherazade\nstopped here, because she saw it was day.\n\nSister, says Dinarzade, I must confess, that the beginning of the\nstory charms me, and I foresee that the result of it will be very\nagreeable. There is nothing more surprising than the story of this\nfisherman, replied the sultaness; and you will be convinced of it\nnext night, if the sultan will be so gracious as to let me live.\n--Schahriar being curious to hear the success of such an\nextraordinary fishing, would not order Scheherazade to be put to\ndeath that day.\n\n\n\n\nNINTH NIGHT.\n\n\nMy dear sister, cried Dinarzade, next morning, at the usual hour, if\nyou be not asleep, I pray you go on with the story of the fisherman;\nI am ready to die till I hear it. I am willing to give you that\nsatisfaction, says the sultaness: but, at the same time she demanded\nleave of the sultan, and having obtained it, began the story again\nas follows:\n\nSir, when the fisherman, vexed to have made such a sorry draught,\nhad mended his nets, which the carcass of the ass had broken in\nseveral places, he threw them in a second time; and when he drew\nthem, found a great deal of resistance, which made him think he had\ntaken abundance of fish; but he found nothing except a basket full\nof gravel and slime, which grieved him extremely. O, fortune! cries\nhe, with a lamentable tone, be not angry with me, nor persecute a\nwretch who prays thee to spare him. I came hither from my house to\nseek for my livelihood, and thou pronouncest death against me. I\nhave no other trade but this to subsist by; and, notwithstanding all\nthe pains I take, I can scarcely provide what is absolutely\nnecessary for my family. But I am to blame to complain of thee; thou\ntakest pleasure to persecute honest people, and to leave great men\nin obscurity, while thou showest favour to the wicked, and advancest\nthose who have no virtue to recommend them.\n\nHaving finished this complaint, he threw away the basket in a fret,\nand washing his nets from the slime, cast them the third time; but\nbrought up nothing, except stone, shells, and mud. Nobody can\nexpress his disorder; he was almost beside himself. However, when\nday began to appear, he did not forget to say his prayers, like a\ngood Mussulman, and afterwards added this petition: \u201cLord, thou\nknowest that I cast my nets only four times a day; I have already\ndrawn them three times, without the least reward for my labour: I am\nonly to cast them once more; I pray thee to render the sea\nfavourable to me, as thou didst to Moses.\u201d\n\nThe fisherman having finished this prayer, cast his nets the fourth\ntime; and when he thought it was time, he drew them as formerly,\nwith great difficulty; but instead of fish, found nothing in them\nbut a vessel of yellow copper, which, by its weight, seemed to be\nfull of something; and he observed that it was shut up and sealed\nwith lead, having the impression of a seal upon it. This rejoiced\nhim: I will sell it, says he, to the founder, and with the money\narising from the produce, buy a measure of corn. He examined the\nvessel on all sides, and shook it, to see if what was within made\nany noise, but heard nothing. This circumstance, with the impression\nof the seal upon the leaden cover, made him think there was\nsomething precious in it. To try this he took a knife, and opened it\nwith very little labour. He presently turned the mouth downward, but\nnothing came out; which surprised him extremely. He set it before\nhim, and while he looked upon it attentively, there came out a very\nthick smoke, which obliged him to retire two or three paces from it.\n\nThe smoke ascended to the clouds, and extending itself along the sea\nand upon the shore, formed a great mist, which, we may well imagine,\ndid mightily astonish the fisherman. When the smoke was all out of\nthe vessel, it re-united itself, and became a solid body, of which\nthere was formed a genie twice as high as the greatest of giants. At\nthe sight of a monster of such an unsizeable bulk, the fisherman\nwould fain have fled, but was so frightened that he could not go one\nstep.\n\nSolomon, cried the genie immediately, Solomon, the great prophet,\npardon, pardon; I will never more oppose your will, I will obey all\nyour commands.--\n\nScheherazade, perceiving day, broke off her story.\n\nUpon which Dinarzade said, Dear sister, nobody can keep their\npromise better than you have done yours. This story is certainly\nmore surprising than all the former. Sister, replies the sultaness,\nthere are more wonderful things yet to come, if my lord the sultan\nwill allow me to tell them to you. Schahriar had too great a desire\nto hear out the story of the fisherman, to deprive himself of that\npleasure; and therefore put off the sultaness\u2019s death another day.\n\n\n\n\nTENTH NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade called her sister next night, when she thought it was\ntime, and prayed her to continue the story of the fisherman; and the\nsultan being also impatient to know what concern the genie had with\nSolomon, Scheherazade continued her story thus:\n\nSir, the fisherman, when he heard these words of the genie,\nrecovered his courage, and said to him, Proud spirit, what is it\nthat you say? It is above eighteen hundred years since the prophet\nSolomon died, and we are now at the end of time. Tell me your\nhistory, and how you came to be shut up in this vessel.\n\nThe genie, turning to the fisherman, with a fierce look, says, you\nmust speak to me with more civility; thou art very bold to call me a\nproud spirit. Very well, replies the fisherman, shall I speak to you\nwith more civility, and call you the owl of good luck? I say,\nanswers the genie, speak to me more civilly before I kill thee. Ah!\nreplies the fisherman, why would you kill me? Did not I just now set\nyou at liberty, and have you already forgotten it? Yes, I remember\nit, says the genie, but that shall not hinder me from killing thee:\nI have only one favour to grant thee. And what is that? says the\nfisherman. It is, answers the genie, to give thee thy choice, in\nwhat manner thou wouldst have me take thy life. But wherein have I\noffended you? replies the fisherman. Is that your reward for the\ngood services I have done you? I cannot treat you otherwise, says\nthe genie; and that you may be convinced of it, hearken to my story.\n\nI am one of those rebellious spirits that opposed the will of\nHeaven; all the other genii owned Solomon, the great prophet, and\nsubmitted to him. Sacar and I were the only genii that would never\nbe guilty of a mean thing: and, to avenge himself, that great\nmonarch sent Asaph, the son of Barakhia, his chief minister, to\napprehend me. That was accordingly done. Asaph seized my person, and\nbrought me by force before his master\u2019s throne.\n\nSolomon, the son of David, commanded me to quit my way of living, to\nacknowledge his power, and to submit myself to his command; I\nbravely refused to obey, and told him, I would rather expose myself\nto his resentment, than swear fealty, and submit to him, as he\nrequired. To punish me, he shut me up in this copper vessel; and to\nmake sure of me, that I should not break prison, he himself stamped\nupon this leaden cover his seal, with the great name of God engraved\nupon it. Then he gave the vessel to one of the genii who submitted\nto him, with orders to throw me into the sea, which was executed to\nmy sorrow.\n\nDuring the first hundred years imprisonment, I swore that if any one\nwould deliver me before the hundred years expired, I would make him\nrich, even after his death: but that century ran out, and nobody did\nme that good office. During the second, I made an oath, that I would\nopen all the treasures of the earth to any one that should set me at\nliberty; but with no better success. In the third, I promised to\nmake my deliverer a potent monarch, to be always near him in spirit,\nand to grant him every day three requests, of what nature soever\nthey might be: but this century ran out as well as the two former,\nand I continued in prison. At last, being angry, or rather mad, to\nfind myself a prisoner so long, I swore, that if afterwards any one\nshould deliver me, I would kill him without mercy, and grant him no\nother favour but to choose what kind of death he would die; and,\ntherefore, since you have delivered me to-day, I give you that\nchoice.\n\nThis discourse afflicted the poor fisherman extremely; I am very\nunfortunate, cries he, to come hither to do such a piece of good\nservice to one that is so ungrateful. I beg you to consider your\ninjustice, and revoke such an unreasonable oath: pardon me, and\nheaven will pardon you; if you grant me my life, heaven will protect\nyou from all attempts against yours. No, thy death is resolved on,\nsays the genie, only choose how you will die. The fisherman,\nperceiving the genie to be resolute, was extremely grieved, not so\nmuch for himself, as for his three children; and bewailed the misery\nthey must be reduced to by his death. He endeavoured still to\nappease the genie, and says, Alas! be pleased to take pity on me, in\nconsideration of the good service I have done you. I have told thee\nalready, replies the genie, it is for that very reason I must kill\nthee. That is very strange, says the fisherman, are you resolved to\nreward good with evil? The proverb says, \u201cThat he who does good to\none who deserves it not, is always ill rewarded.\u201d I must confess,\nI thought it was false; for in effect there can be nothing more\ncontrary to reason, or the laws of society. Nevertheless, I find now\nby cruel experience, that it is but too true. Do not lose time,\nreplies the genie; all thy reasoning shall not divert me from my\npurpose: make haste and tell me which way you choose to die.\n\nNecessity is the mother of invention. The fisherman bethought\nhimself of a stratagem. Since I must die, then, says he to the\ngenie, I submit to the will of heaven; but before I choose the\nmanner of death, I conjure you by the great name which was engraven\nupon the seal of the prophet Solomon, the son of David, to answer me\ntruly the question I am going to ask you.\n\nThe genie finding himself obliged to a positive answer by this\nabjuration, trembled; and replied to the fisherman, Ask what thou\nwilt, but make haste. Day appearing, Scheherazade held her peace.\n\nSister, says Dinarzade, it must be owned that the more you speak,\nthe more you surprise and satisfy. I hope our lord, the sultan, will\nnot order you to be put to death, till he hears out the fine story\nof the fisherman. The sultan is absolute, replies Scheherazade, we\nmust submit to his will in every thing. But Schahriar being as\nwilling as Dinarzade to hear an end of the story, did again put off\nthe execution of the sultaness.\n\n\n\n\nELEVENTH NIGHT.\n\n\nSchahriar, and the princess his spouse, passed this night in the\nsame manner as they had done the former; and before break of day,\nDinarzade awaked them with these words, addressed to the sultaness:\nI pray you, sister, to resume the story of the fisherman. With all\nmy heart, said Scheherazade, I am willing to satisfy you, with the\nsultan\u2019s permission.\n\nThe genie, continued she, having promised to speak the truth, the\nfisherman says to him, --I would know if you were actually in this\nvessel: dare you swear it by the name of the great God? Yes, replied\nthe genie, I do swear by that great name that I was, and it is a\ncertain truth. In good faith, answered the fisherman, I cannot\nbelieve you; the vessel is not capable of holding one of your feet,\nand how should it be possible that your whole body could lie in it?\nI swear to thee, notwithstanding, replied the genie, that I was\nthere just as you see me here: Is it possible, that thou dost not\nbelieve me after this great oath that I have taken? Truly, not I,\nsaid the fisherman; nor will I believe you, unless you show it me.\n\nUpon which the body of the genic was dissolved, and changed itself\ninto smoke, extending itself as formerly upon the sea and shore: and\nthen at last being gathered together, it began to re-enter the\nvessel, which it continued to do successively by a slow and equal\nmotion, after a smooth and exact way, till nothing was left out; and\nimmediately, a voice came forth, which said to the fisherman, Well,\nnow, incredulous fellow, I am all in the vessel, do not you believe\nme now.\n\nThe fisherman, instead of answering the genie, took the cover of\nlead, and having speedily shut the vessel, Genie, cries he, now it\nis your turn to beg my favour, and to choose which way I shall put\nyou to death; but not so, it is better that I should throw you into\nthe sea, whence I took you: and then I will build a house upon the\nbank, where I will dwell, to give notice to all fishermen who come\nto throw in their nets, to beware of such a wicked genie as thou\nart, who hast made an oath to kill him that shall set thee at\nliberty.\n\nThe genie, enraged at those expressions, did all he could to get out\nof the vessel again; but it was not possible for him to do it; for\nthe impression of Solomon\u2019s seal prevented him. So perceiving that\nthe fisherman had got the advantage of him, he thought fit to\ndissemble his anger; Fisherman, said he, in a pleasant tone, take\nheed you do not do what you say, for what I spoke to you before was\nonly by way of jest, and you are to take it no otherwise. O, genie!\nreplies the fisherman, thou who wast but a moment ago the greatest\nof all genie, and now art the least of them, thy crafty discourse\nwill signify nothing to thee, but to the sea thou shalt return. If\nthou hast staid there already so long as thou hast told me, thou\nmayst very well stay there till the day of judgment. I begged of\nthee in God\u2019s name, not to take away my life, and thou didst\nreject my prayers; I am obliged to treat thee in the same manner.\n\nThe genie omitted nothing that could prevail upon the fisherman;\nOpen the vessel, says he, give me my liberty, I pray thee, and I\npromise to satisfy thee to thy own content. Thou art a mere traitor,\nreplies the fisherman; I should deserve to lose my life, if I were\nsuch a fool as to trust thee; thou wilt not fail to treat me in the\nsame manner as a certain Grecian king treated the physician Douban.\nIt is a story I have a mind to tell thee, therefore listen to it.\n\nThe Story of the Grecian King and the Physician Douban.\n\nThere was in the country of Zouman, in Persia, a king, whose\nsubjects were originally Greeks. This king was all over leprous, and\nhis physicians in vain endeavoured his cure; and when they were at\ntheir wits end what to prescribe to him, a very able physician,\ncalled Douban, arrived at his court.\n\nThis physician had learned his science in Greek, Persian, Turkish,\nArabian, Latin, Syriac, and Hebrew books; and besides that, he was\nan expert philosopher, and fully understood the good and bad\nqualities of all sorts of plants and drugs. As soon as he was\ninformed of the king\u2019s distemper, and understood that his\nphysicians had given him over, he clad himself in the best habits he\ncould procure, and found means to present himself to the king. Sir,\nsays he, I know that all your majesty\u2019s physicians have not been\nable to cure you the leprosy; but if you will do me the honour to\naccept my service, I will engage myself to cure you without potions,\nor external applications.\n\nThe king listened to what he said, and answered, If you be able to\nperform what you do promise, I will enrich you and your posterity;\nand besides the presents I shall make you, you shall be my chief\nfavourite. Do you assure me, then, that you will cure me of my\nleprosy, without making me take any potion, or applying any external\nmedicine? Yes, sir, replies the physician; I promise myself success,\nthrough God\u2019s assistance, and to-morrow I will make trial of it.\n\nThe physician returned to his quarters, and made a mallet, hollow\nwithin, and at the handle he put in his drugs: he made also a ball\nin such a manner as suited his purpose, with which, next morning, he\nwent to present himself before the king, and falling down at his\nfeet, kissed the ground. Here Scheherazade, perceiving day,\nacquainted the sultan with it, and held her peace.\n\nI wonder, sister, says Dinarzade, where you learn so many fine\nthings. You shall hear a great many others to-morrow, replies\nScheherazade, if the sultan, my master, will be pleased to prolong\nmy life farther. Schahriar, who longed as much as Dinarzade, to hear\nthe sequel of the story of Douban, the physician, did not order the\nsultaness to be put to death that day.\n\n\n\n\nTWELFTH NIGHT.\n\n\nThe twelfth night was far advanced, when Dinarzade called, and says,\nsister, you owe us the continuation of the agreeable history of the\nGrecian king and the physician Douban. I am very willing to pay my\ndebt, replied Scheherazade, and resumed the story as follows:\n\nSir, the fisherman, speaking always to the genie, whom he kept shut\nup in the vessel, went on thus. The physician Douban rose up, and\nafter a profound reverence, says to the king, he judged it meet that\nhis majesty should take horse, and go to the place where he used to\nplay at mall. [1] The king did so, and when he arrived there, the\nphysician came to him with the mall, and says to him, Sir, exercise\nyourself with this mall, and strike the ball with it until you find\nyour hands and your body in a sweat. When the medicine I have put up\nin the handle of the mall, is heated with your hand, it will\npenetrate your whole body; and as soon as you shall sweat, you may\nleave off the exercise, for then the medicine will have had its\neffect. As soon as you are returned to your palace, go into the\nbath, and cause yourself to be well washed and rubbed; then go to\nbed, and when you rise to-morrow you will find yourself cured.\n\nThe king took the mall, and struck the ball, which was returned by\nhis officers that played with him; he struck it again, and played so\nlong, that his hand and his whole body were in a sweat, and then the\nmedicine shut up in the handle of the mall had its operation, as the\nphysician said. Upon this the king left off play, returned to his\npalace, entered the bath, and observed very exactly what his\nphysician had prescribed him.\n\nHe was very well after it, and next morning, when he arose, he\nperceived, with equal wonder and joy, that his leprosy was cured,\nand his body as clean as if he had never been attacked with that\ndistemper. As soon as he was dressed, he came into the hall of\naudience, where he ascended his throne, and showed himself to his\ncourtiers, who, eager to know the success of the new medicine, came\nthither betimes; and, when they saw the king perfectly cured, did\nall express great joy. The physician Douban entered the hall, and\nbowed himself before the throne, with his face to the ground. The\nking, perceiving him, called him, made him sit down by his side,\nshowed him to the assembly, and gave him all the commendation he\ndeserved. His majesty did not stop here; but, as he treated all his\ncourt that day, he made him eat at his table alone with him. At\nthese words, Scheherazade, perceiving day, broke off her story.\nSister, says Dinarzade, I know not what the conclusion of this story\nwill be, but I find the beginning admirable. That which is to come\nis yet better, answered the sultaness; and I am certain you will not\ndeny it, if the sultan gives me leave to make an end of it to-morrow\nnight. Schahriar consented, and rose very well satisfied with what\nhe had heard.\n\n\n\n\nTHIRTEENTH NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade, willing to keep the sultan in ignorance of her design,\ncried out as if she had started out of her sleep: O, dear sister, I\nhave had a troublesome dream, and nothing will sooner make me forget\nit than the remainder of the story of the Grecian king and doctor\nDouban. I conjure you by the love you always bore me, not to defer\nit a moment longer. I shall not fail, good sister, to ease your\nmind; and if my sovereign will permit me, I will go on. Schahriar,\nbeing charmed with the agreeable manner of Scheherazade\u2019s telling\nher stories, says to her, You will oblige me no less than Dinarzade,\ntherefore continue. [2]\n\nThe Grecian king, says the fisherman to the genie, was not satisfied\nwith having admitted the physician Douban to his table, but towards\nnight, when he was about dismissing the company, he caused him to be\nclad in a long rich robe, like those which his favourites usually\nwore in his presence; and besides that he ordered him two thousand\nsequins. The next day and the day following, he continued his favour\nto him; in short, the prince, thinking that he could never enough\nacknowledge the obligations he lay under to that able physician,\nbestowed every day new favours upon him. But this king had a grand\nvizier, who was avaricious, envious, and naturally capable of all\nsort of mischief. He could not see, without envy, the presents that\nwere given to the physician, whose other merits had already began to\nmake him jealous, and therefore he resolved to lessen him in the\nking\u2019s esteem. To effect this, he went to the king, and told him\nin private, that he had some advice to give him, which was of the\ngreatest concern. The king having asked what it was, Sir, said he,\nit is very dangerous for a monarch to put confidence in a man whose\nfidelity he never tried. Though you heap favours upon the physician\nDouban, and show him all the familiarity that may be, your majesty\ndoes not know but he may be a traitor, and come on purpose to this\ncourt to kill you. From whom have you this, answered the king, that\nyou dare to tell it me? Consider to whom you speak, and that you\nadvance a thing which I shall not easily believe. Sir, replied the\nvizier, I am very well informed of what I have had the honour to\nrepresent to your majesty; therefore do not let your dangerous\nconfidence grow to a farther height: if your majesty be asleep, be\npleased to awake; for I once more repeat it, that the physician\nDouban did not leave the heart of Greece, his native country, nor\ncome here to settle himself at your court, but to execute that\nhorrible design which I have just now hinted to you.\n\nNo, no, vizier, replies the king; I am certain that this man, whom\nyou treat as a villain, and a traitor, is one of the best and most\nvirtuous men in the world, and there is no man I love so much. You\nknow by what medicine, or rather by what miracle, he cured me of my\nleprosy; if he had a design upon my life, why did he save me? He\nneeded only have left me to my disease; I could not have escaped it;\nmy life was already half gone. Forbear, then, to fill me with unjust\nsuspicions: instead of listening to you, I tell you, that from this\nday forward I will give that great man a pension of a thousand\nsequins per month for his life; nay, though I were to share with him\nall my riches and dominions, I should never pay him enough for what\nhe has done for me: I perceive it to be his virtue which raises your\nenvy; but do not think that I will be unjustly possessed with\nprejudice against him. I remember too well what a vizier said to\nking Sinbad, his master, to prevent his putting to death the prince,\nhis son. But, sir, says Scheherazade, day light appears, which\nforbids me to go any further.\n\nI am very well pleased that the Grecian king, says Dinarzade, had so\nmuch firmness of spirit, to reject the false accusation of the\nvizier. If you commend the firmness of that prince to-day, says\nScheherazade, you will as much condemn his weakness to-morrow, if\nthe sultan be pleased to allow me time to finish this story. The\nsultan, being curious to hear wherein the Grecian king discovered\nhis weakness, did further delay the death of the sultaness.\n\n\n\n\nFOURTEENTH NIGHT.\n\n\nAn hour before day, Dinarzade awaked her sister, and says to her,\nYou will certainly be as good as your word, madam, and finish the\nstory of the fisherman; to assist your memory, I will tell you where\nyou left off: it was where the Grecian king maintained the innocence\nof his physician Douban against his vizier. I remember it, says\nScheherazade, and am ready to give you satisfaction.\n\nSir, continues she, addressing herself to Schahriar, what the\nGrecian king said about king Sinbad raised the vizier\u2019s curiosity,\nwho says to him, sir, 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 cutting off the prince, his son. The\nGrecian king had the complaisance to satisfy him: That vizier, says\nhe, after having represented to king Sinbad, that he ought to\nbeware, lest on the accusation of a mother-in-law, he should commit\nan action which he might afterwards repent of, told him this story.\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of the Husband and the Parrot.\n\n\nA certain man had a beautiful wife, whom he loved so dearly, that he\ncould scarce allow her to be out of his sight. One day being obliged\nto go abroad, about urgent affairs, he came to a place where all\nsorts of birds were sold, and there bought a parrot which not only\nspoke very well, but could also give an account of every thing that\nwas done before it. He brought it in a cage to his house, desired\nhis wife to put it in his chamber, and to take care of it during a\njourney he was obliged to undertake; and then went out.\n\nAt his return, he took care to ask the parrot concerning what had\npassed in his absence, and the bird told him things that gave him\noccasion to upbraid his wife. She thought some of her slaves had\nbetrayed her, but all of them swore they had been faithful to her;\nand they all agreed that it must have been the parrot that had told\ntales.\n\nUpon this, the wife bethought herself of a way how she might remove\nher husband\u2019s jealousy, and at the same time revenge herself on\nthe parrot, which she effected thus: her husband being gone another\njourney, she commanded a slave in the night-time to turn a hand-mill\nunder the parrot\u2019s cage; she ordered another to throw water, in\nform of rain, over the cage; and a third to take a looking-glass,\nand turn it to the right and to the left before the parrot by\ncandle-light. The slaves spent great part of the night in doing what\ntheir mistress commanded them, and acquitted themselves very\ndexterously.\n\nNext night the husband returned, and examined the parrot again about\nwhat had passed during his absence. The bird answered, Good master,\nthe lightning, thunder, and rain, did so much disturb me all night,\nthat I cannot tell how much I suffered by it. The husband, who knew\nthat there had been neither thunder, lightning, nor rain, that\nnight, fancied that the parrot, not having told him the truth in\nthis, might also have lied to him in the other; upon which he took\nit out of the cage, and threw it with so much force to the ground\nthat he killed it. Yet, afterwards, he understood by his neighbours,\nthat the poor parrot had not lied to him, when it gave him an\naccount of his wife\u2019s base conduct, which made him repent he had\nkilled it. Scheherazade stopped here, because she saw it was day.\n\nAll that you tell us, sister, says Dinarzade, is so curious, that\nnothing can be more agreeable. I shall be willing to divert you,\nanswers Scheherazade, if the sultan, my master, will allow me time\nto do it. Schahriar, who took as much pleasure to hear the\nsultaness, as Dinarzade, rose and went about his affairs, without\nordering the vizier to cut her off.\n\n\n\n\nFIFTEENTH NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade was punctual this night, as she had been the former, to\nawaken her sister, and begged of her, as usual, to tell her a story.\nI am going to do it, sister, says Scheherazade: but the sultan\ninterrupted her, for fear she should begin a new story, and bid her\nfinish the discourse between the Grecian king and his vizier about\nhis physician Douban. Sir, says Scheherazade, I will obey you; and\nwent on with the story, as follows:\n\nWhen the Grecian king, says the fisherman to the genie, had finished\nthe story of the parrot; and you, vizier, adds he, because of the\nhatred you bear to the physician Douban, who never did you any hurt,\nyou would have me cut him off; but I will take care of that, for\nfear I should repent it, as the husband did the killing of his\nparrot.\n\nThe mischievous vizier was too much concerned to effect the ruin of\nthe physician Douban to stop here. Sir, says he, the death of the\nparrot was but a trifle, and, I believe, his master did not mourn\nfor him long; but why should your fear of wronging an innocent man,\nhinder your putting this physician to death? Is it not enough to\nauthorize you to take away his life, 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 it\nis better to sacrifice the innocent than to spare the guilty. But,\nsir, this is not an uncertainty; the physician Douban has certainly\na mind to assassinate you. It is not envy which makes me his enemy;\nit is only my zeal, and the concern I have for preserving your\nmajesty\u2019s life, that makes me give you my advice in a matter of\nthis importance. If it be false, I deserve to be punished in the\nsame manner as a vizier was formerly punished. What had the vizier\ndone, says the Grecian king, to deserve punishment? I will inform\nyour majesty of that, says the vizier, if you will be pleased to\nhear me.\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of the Vizier that was punished.\n\n\nThere was a king, says the vizier, who had a son that loved hunting.\nHe allowed him to divert himself that way very often; but gave\norders to his grand vizier to attend him constantly, and never to\nlose sight of him.\n\nOne hunting-day, the huntsman having roused a deer, the prince, who\nthought the vizier followed him, pursued the game so far, and with\nso much earnestness, that he was left quite alone. He stopped, and\nfinding he had lost his way, endeavoured to return the same way he\ncame, to find out the vizier, who had not been careful enough to\nfollow him, and so wandered farther.\n\nWhilst he rode up and down, without keeping any road, he met by the\nway-side a handsome lady, who wept bitterly. He stopped his horse,\nasked who she was, how she came to be alone in that place, and what\nshe wanted. I am, says she, daughter to an Indian king. As I was\ntaking the air on horseback, in the country, I grew sleepy, fell\nfrom my horse, who is run away, and I know not what is become of\nhim. The young prince taking compassion on her, asked her to get up\nbehind him, which she willingly accepted.\n\nAs they passed by the ruins of a house, the lady signified a desire\nto alight on some occasion. The prince, stopped, and suffered her to\nalight; then he alighted himself, and went near the ruins with his\nhorse in his hand. But you may judge how much he was surprised, when\nhe heard the lady within say these words: \u201cBe glad, my children, I\nbring you a handsome young man, and very fat;\u201d and other voices,\nwhich answered immediately, \u201cMamma, where is he, that we may eat\nhim presently, for we are very hungry!\u201d\n\nThe prince heard enough to convince him of his danger, and then he\nperceived that the lady who called herself daughter to an Indian\nking, was an Ogress, wife to one of those savage demons, called\nOgres, who live in remote places, and make use of a thousand wiles\nto surprise and devour passengers; so that the prince being\nfrightened, mounted his horse as soon as he could.\n\nThe pretended princess appeared that very moment, and perceiving she\nhad missed her prey, she cries, Fear nothing, prince: who are you?\nwhom do you seek? I have lost my way, replies he, and am seeking it.\nIf you have lost your way, says she, recommend yourself to God, he\nwill deliver you out of your perplexity. Then the prince lifted up\nhis eyes towards heaven. But, sir, says Scheherazade, I am obliged\nto break off, for day appears.\n\nI long, says Dinarzade, to know what became of that young prince: I\ntremble for him. I will deliver you from your uneasiness to-morrow,\nanswers the sultaness, if the sultan will allow me to live till\nthen. Schahriar, willing to hear an end of this adventure, prolonged\nScheherazade\u2019s life for another day.\n\n\n\n\nSIXTEENTH NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade had such a desire to hear out the story of the young\nprince, that she awaked that night sooner than ordinary, and said,\nSister, pray go on with the story you began yesterday: I am much\nconcerned for the young prince, and ready to die for fear that he\nwas eaten up by the Ogress and her children. Schahriar having\nsignified that he had the same fear, the sultaness replies, Well,\nsir, I will satisfy you immediately.\n\nAfter the counterfeit Indian princess had bid the young prince\nrecommend himself to God, he could not believe she spoke sincerely,\nbut thought she was sure of him: and therefore, lifting up his hands\nto heaven, said, \u201cAlmighty Lord, cast thine eyes upon me, and\ndeliver me from this enemy.\u201d After this prayer, the Ogress entered\nthe ruins again, and the prince rode off with all possible haste. He\nhappily found his way again, and arrived safe and sound at his\nfather\u2019s court, to whom he gave a particular account of the danger\nhe had been in through the vizier\u2019s neglect: upon which the king,\nbeing incensed against the minister, ordered him to be immediately\nstrangled.\n\nSir, continued the Grecian king\u2019s vizier, to return to the\nphysician Douban, if you do not take care, the confidence you put in\nhim will be fatal to you: I am very well assured, that he is a spy\nsent by your enemies to attempt your majesty\u2019s life. He has cured\nyou, he will say: but alas! who can assure you of that? He has,\nperhaps, cured you only in appearance, and not radically; who knows\nbut the medicine he has given you may, in time, have pernicious\neffects?\n\nThe Grecian king, who had naturally very little sense, was not able\nto discover the wicked design of his vizier, nor had he firmness\nenough to persist in his first opinion. This discourse staggered\nhim. Vizier, says he, thou art in the right; he may be come on\npurpose to take away my life, which he may easily do by the very\nsmell of some of his drugs. We must consider what is fit for us to\ndo in this case.\n\nWhen the vizier found the king in such a temper as he wished, Sir,\nsaid he, the surest and speediest method you can take to secure your\nlife, is to send immediately for the physician Douban, and order his\nhead to be cut off as soon as he comes. In truth, says the king, I\nbelieve that is the way we must take to prevent his design. When he\nhad spoken thus, he called for one of his officers, and ordered him\nto go for the physician; who, knowing nothing of the king\u2019s\ndesign, came to the palace in haste.\n\nKnow ye, says the king, when he saw him, why I sent for you; No,\nsir, answers he; I wait till your majesty be pleased to inform me. I\nsent for you, replied the king, to rid myself of you by taking your\nlife.\n\nNo man can express the surprise of the physician, when he heard the\nsentence of death pronounced against him. Sir, said he, why would\nyour majesty take my life? What crime have I committed? I am\ninformed by good hands, replies the king, that you come to my court\nonly to attempt my life; but to prevent you, I will be sure of\nyours. Give the blow, says he to the executioner, who was present,\nand deliver me from a perfidious wretch, who came hither on purpose\nto 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 procured\nhim enemies, and that the weak prince was imposed on. He repented\nthat he had cured him of his leprosy; but it was now too late. Is it\nthus, replied the physician, that you reward me for curing you? The\nking would not hearken to him, but a second time ordered the\nexecutioner to strike the fatal blow. The physician then had\nrecourse to his prayers: Alas! sir, cries he, prolong my days, and\nGod will prolong yours; do not put me to death lest God treat you in\nthe same manner. The fisherman broke off his discourse here, to\napply it to the genie. Well, genie, says he, you see what passed\nthen betwixt the Grecian king and his physician Douban, is acted\njust now betwixt us.\n\nThe Grecian king, continues he, instead of having regard to the\nprayers of the physician, who begged him for God\u2019s sake to spare\nhim, cruelly replied to him, No, no; I must of necessity cut you\noff, otherwise you may take my life away with as much art as you\ncured me. The physician melted into tears, and bewailing himself for\nbeing so ill rewarded by the king, prepared for death. The\nexecutioner bound up his eyes, tied his hands, and was going to draw\nhis scimitar.\n\nThen the courtiers, who were present, being moved with compassion,\nbegged the king to pardon him, assuring his majesty that he was not\nguilty of the crime laid to his charge, and that they would answer\nfor his innocence: but the king was inflexible, and answered them so\nas they dared not to say any more of the matter.\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:\nSir, says he, since your majesty will not revoke the sentence of\ndeath, I beg at least, that you would give me leave to return to my\nhouse, to give order about my burial, to bid farewell to my family,\nto give alms, and to bequeath my books to those who are capable of\nmaking good use of them. I have one particularly I would present to\nyour majesty: it is a very precious book, and worthy to be laid up\nvery carefully in your treasury. Well, replies the king, why is that\nbook so precious as you talk of? --Sir, says the physician, because\nit contains an infinite number of curious things; of which the chief\nis, that when you have cut off my head, if your majesty will give\nyourself the trouble to open the book at the sixth leaf, and read\nthe third line of the left page, my head will answer all the\nquestions you ask it. The king being curious to see such a wonderful\nthing, deferred 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 the\nreport being spread that an unheard-of prodigy was to happen after\nhis death, the viziers, emirs, officers of the guard, and, in a\nword, the whole court, repaired next day to the hall of audience,\nthat they might be witnesses of it.\n\nThe physician Douban was soon brought in, and advanced to the foot\nof the throne, with a great book in his hand: there he called for a\nbasin, upon which he laid the cover that the book was wrapped in,\nand presented the book to the king. Sir, says he, take that book, if\nyou please, and as soon as my head is cut off, order that it be put\ninto the basin upon the cover of the book; as soon as it is put\nthere, the blood will stop: then open the book, and my head will\nanswer your questions. But, sir, says he, permit me once more to\nimplore your majesty\u2019s clemency; for God\u2019s sake grant my\nrequest; I protest to you that I am innocent. Your prayers, answers\nthe king, are in vain; and, were it for nothing but to hear your\nhead speak after your death, it is my will you should die. As he\nsaid this, he took the book out of the physician\u2019s hand, and\nordered 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, but the blood\nstopped; then, to the great surprise of the king, and all the\nspectators, it opened its eyes, and said, Sir, will your majesty be\npleased to open the book? The king opened it, and finding that one\nleaf was as it were glued to another, that he might turn it with the\nmore ease, he put his finger to his mouth, and wet it with spittle.\nHe did so till he came to the 6th leaf, and finding no writing on\nthe place where he was bid to look for it, Physician, says he to the\nhead, there is nothing written. Turn over some more leaves, replies\nthe head. The king continued to turn over, putting always his finger\nto his mouth, until the poison, with which each leaf was imbued,\ncoming to have its effect, the prince finding himself all of a\nsudden taken with an extraordinary fit, his eye-sight failed, and he\nfell down at the foot of the throne, in violent convulsions. At\nthese words, Scheherazade, perceiving day, gave the sultan notice of\nit, and forbore speaking. Ah, dear sister, says Dinarzade, how\ngrieved am I that you have not time to finish the story: I should be\ninconsolable if you lose your life to-day. Sister, replies the\nsultaness, that must be as the sultan pleases; but I hope he will be\nso good as to suspend my death till to-morrow. And accordingly,\nSchahriar, far from ordering her death that day, expected the next\nnight with much impatience; so earnest was he to hear out the story\nof the Grecian king, and the sequel of the fisherman and the genie.\n\n\n\n\nSEVENTEENTH NIGHT.\n\n\nThough Dinarzade was very curious to hear the rest of the story of\nthe Grecian king, she did not awake that night so soon as usual, so\nthat it was almost day before she called upon the sultaness; and\nthen she said, I pray you, sister, to continue the wonderful story\nof the Grecian king; but make haste, I beseech you, for it will\nspeedily be day.\n\nScheherazade resumed the story where she left off the day before:\nSir, said she to the sultan, when the physician Douban, or rather\nhis head, saw that the poison had taken effect, and that the king\nhad but a few moments to live; Tyrant, it cried, now you see how\nprinces are treated, who, abusing their authority, cut off innocent\nmen: God punishes soon or late their injustice and cruelty. Scarcely\nhad the head spoken these words, when the king fell down dead, and\nthe head itself lost what life it had.\n\nSir, continued Scheherazade, such was the end of the Grecian king\nand of the physician Douban. I must return now to the story of the\nfisherman and the genie; but it is day. The sultan, who always\nobserved his hours regularly, got up; and wishing to hear the sequel\nof the story of the genie and the fisherman, bid the sultaness\nprepare to relate it to him the next night.\n\n\n\n\nEIGHTEENTH NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade made amends for the last night\u2019s neglect; she awoke long\nbefore day, and calling upon Scheherazade, sister, said she, if you\nbe not asleep, pray give us the rest of the story of the fisherman\nand the genie; you know the sultan desires to hear it as well as I.\n\nI shall soon satisfy his curiosity and yours, answered the\nsultaness, and then addressing herself to Schahriar, Sir, continued\nshe, as soon as the fisherman had concluded the history of the Greek\nking and his physician Douban, he made the application to the genie,\nwhom he still kept shut up in the vessel. If the Grecian king, said\nhe, had suffered the physician to live, God would have continued his\nlife also: but he rejected his most humble prayers, and the case is\nthe same with thee, O, genie! Could I have prevailed with thee to\ngrant me the favour I supplicated, I should now take pity on thee;\nbut since, notwithstanding the extreme obligation thou wast under to\nme, for having set thee at liberty, thou didst persist in thy design\nto kill me, I am obliged, in my turn, to be equally hard-hearted to\nthee.\n\nMy good friend fisherman, replied the genie, I conjure thee once\nmore, not to be guilty of such cruelty; consider, that it is not\ngood to avenge one\u2019s self, and that on the other hand, it is\ncommendable to do good for evil; do not treat me as Imama formerly\ntreated Ateca. And what did Imama to Ateca? inquired the fisherman.\nHo! says the genie, if you have a mind to be informed, open the\nvessel: do you think that I can be in a humour to relate stories in\nso strait a prison? I will tell you as many as you please, when you\nhave let me out. No, said the fisherman, I will not let thee out; it\nis in vain to talk of it: I am just going to throw thee into the\nbottom of the sea. Hear me one word more, cried the genie: I promise\nto do thee no hurt; nay, far from that, I will shew thee a way to\nbecome exceedingly rich.\n\nThe hope of delivering himself from poverty, prevailed with the\nfisherman. I could listen to thee, said he, were there any credit to\nbe given to thy word; swear to me by the great name of God, that you\nwill faithfully perform what you promise, and I will open the\nvessel; I do not believe you will dare to break such 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 ascended,\nand the genie having resumed his form, the first thing he did was to\nkick the vessel into the sea. This action alarmed the fisherman.\nGenie, said he, will not you keep the oath you just now made? And\nmust I say to you, as the physician Douban said to the Grecian king,\nsuffer me to live, and God will prolong your days.\n\nThe genie laughed at the fisherman\u2019s fear, and answered, No,\nfisherman, be not afraid, I only did it to divert myself, and to see\nif thou wouldst be alarmed at it: but to convince thee that I am in\nearnest, take thy nets and follow me. As he spoke these words, he\nwalked before the fisherman, who having taken up his nets, followed\nhim, but with some distrust. They passed by the town, and came to\nthe top of a mountain, from whence they descended into a vast plain,\nwhich brought them to a lake, that lay 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 not\ndoubt of taking some, because he saw a great number in the water;\nbut he was extremely surprised, when he found they were of four\ncolours, that is to say, white, red, blue, and yellow. He threw in\nhis nets, and brought out one of each colour. Having never seen the\nlike before, he could not but admire them, and judging that he might\nget a considerable sum for them, he was very joyful. Carry those\nfish, said the genie to him, and present them to thy sultan; he will\ngive thee more money for them. Thou mayest come every day to fish in\nthis lake; but I give thee warning not to throw in thy nets above\nonce a day, otherwise thou wilt repent. Having spoken thus, he\nstruck his foot upon the ground, which opened, and after it had\nswallowed him up, closed again.\n\nThe fisherman being resolved to follow the genie\u2019s advice, forbore\ncasting in his nets a second time; and returned to the town very\nwell satisfied; and making a thousand reflections upon his\nadventure. He went immediately to the sultan\u2019s palace, to offer\nhis fish. But, sir, said Scheherazade, I perceive day, and must stop\nhere.\n\nDear sister, said Dinarzade, how surprising are the last events you\nhave told us? I can hardly believe that any thing you have to say\ncan be more surprising. Sister, replied the sultaness, if the\nsultan, my master, will let me live till tomorrow, I am persuaded\nyou will find the sequel of the history of the fisherman more\nwonderful than the beginning of it, and incomparably more diverting.\nSchahriar, being curious to know if the remainder of this story\nwould be such as the sultaness said, put off once more the execution\nof his cruel sentence.\n\n\n\n\nNINETEENTH NIGHT.\n\n\nTowards morning, Dinarzade called the sultaness, and said, Dear\nsister, it will be day speedily, therefore pray continue the history\nof the fisherman; I am extremely impatient to know what the issue of\nit was. Scheherazade having demanded permission, resumed her\ndiscourse as follows: I leave it to your majesty to think how much\nthe sultan was surprised, when he saw the four fish which the\nfisherman presented. He took them up one after another, and viewed\nthem with attention; and after having admired them a long time, Take\nthose fish, said he to his vizier, and carry them to the cook, whom\nthe emperor of the Greeks has sent me. I cannot imagine but that\nthey must be as good as they are beautiful.\n\nThe vizier carried them as he was directed, and delivering them to\nthe cook, said, Here are four fish just brought to the sultan; he\norders you to dress them: he then returned to the sultan his master,\nwho ordered him to give the fisherman four hundred pieces of gold of\nthe coin of that country, which he did accordingly.\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\nBut, sir, said Scheherazade, having told you what happened to the\nfisherman, I must acquaint you next with what befel the sultan\u2019s\ncook, whom we shall find in great perplexity. As soon as she had\ngutted the fish, she put them upon the fire in a frying pan, with\noil, and when she thought them fried enough on one side, she turned\nthem upon the other; but, O, monstrous prodigy! scarcely were they\nturned, when the wall of the kitchen divided, and a young lady of\nwonderful beauty entered from the opening. She was clad in flowered\nsatin, after the Egyptian manner, with pendants in her ears, a\nnecklace of large pearls, and bracelets of gold set with rubies,\nwith a rod in her hand. She moved towards the frying-pan, to the\ngreat amazement of the cook, who continued fixed by the sight, and\nstriking one of the fish with the end of the rod, said, \u201cFish,\nfish, are you in duty?\u201d The fish having answered nothing, she\nrepeated these words, and then the four fish lifted up their heads,\nand replied, \u201cYes, yes: if you reckon, we reckon; if you pay your\ndebts, we pay ours; if you fly, we overcome, and are content.\u201d As\nsoon as they had finished these words, the lady overturned the\nfrying-pan, and entered again into the open part of the wall, which\nshut immediately, and became as it was before.\n\nThe cook maid was mightily frightened at this, and coming a little\nto herself, went to take up the fishes that had fallen on the\nhearth, but found them blacker than coal, and not fit to be carried\nto the sultan. This grievously troubled her, and she fell to weeping\nmost bitterly. Alas! said she, what will become of me! If I tell the\nsultan what I have seen, I am sure he will not believe me, but will\nbe enraged against me.\n\nWhile she was thus bewailing herself, the grand vizier entered, and\nasked 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 others,\nso that they are not fit to be carried to the sultan. The fisherman,\nwithout saying any thing of what the genie had told him, in order to\nexcuse himself from bringing them that day, told the vizier he had a\ngreat way to go for them, but would certainly bring them on the\nmorrow.\n\nAccordingly the fisherman went away by night, and coming to the\npond, threw in his nets betimes next morning, took four fish like\nthe former, and brought them to the vizier at the hour appointed.\nThe minister took them himself, carried them to the kitchen, and\nshutting himself up with the cook, she gutted them, and put them on\nthe fire, as she had done the four others the day before. When they\nwere fried on one side, and she had turned them upon the other, the\nkitchen wall again opened, and the same lady came in, with the rod\nin her hand, struck one of the fish, spoke to it as before, and all\nfour gave her the same answer. But, sir, said Scheherazade, day\nappears, which obliges me to leave off. What I have told you, is\nindeed very singular; but if I be alive to-morrow, I will tell you\nother things, which are yet better worth your hearing. Schahriar,\nconceiving that the sequel must be very curious, resolved to hear\nher next night.\n\n\n\n\nTWENTIETH NIGHT.\n\n\nNext morning, the sultan prevented Dinarzade, and said to\nScheherazade, madam, I pray you finish the story of the fisherman, I\nam impatient to hear it; upon which the sultaness continued thus:\n\nAfter the four fish had answered the young lady, she overturned the\nfrying-pan with her rod, and retired into the same place of the wall\nfrom whence she came out. The grand vizier being witness of what had\npassed; This is too wonderful and extraordinary, said he, to be\nconcealed from the sultan: I will inform him of this prodigy; which\nhe did accordingly, and gave him a very faithful account of all that\nhad happened.\n\nThe sultan, being much surprised, was impatient to see this himself,\nhe sent immediately for the fisherman, and said to him, Friend,\ncannot you bring me four more such fish? The fisherman replied, If\nyour majesty will be pleased to allow me three days\u2019 time, I will\ndo it. Having obtained his time, he went to the pond immediately,\nand at the first throwing in of his net, he caught four such fish,\nand brought them presently to the sultan: who was so much the more\nrejoiced, as he did not expect them so soon, and ordered him other\nfour hundred pieces of gold. As soon as the sultan had the fish, he\nordered them to be carried into the closet, with all that was\nnecessary for frying them; and having shut himself up there with the\nvizier, the minister gutted them, put them into the pan, and when\nthey were fried on one side, turned them upon the other; then the\nwall of the closet opened, but instead of the young lady, there came\nout a black, in the habit of a slave, of a gigantic stature, with a\ngreat green baton in his hand. He advanced towards the pan, and\ntouching one of the fish with his baton, said with a terrible voice,\n\u201cFish, are you in your duty?\u201d At these words, the fish raised up\ntheir heads, and answered, \u201cYes, yes; we are: if you reckon, we\nreckon; if you pay your debts, we pay ours; if you fly, we overcome,\nand are content.\u201d\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 entered again into\nthe aperture, it closed, and the wall appeared just as it did before.\n\nAfter what I have seen, said the sultan to the vizier, it will be\nimpossible for me to be easy in my mind; these fish, without doubt,\nsignify something extraordinary, in which I have a mind to be\nsatisfied. He sent for the fisherman, and when he came, said to him,\nFisherman, the fish you have brought us, make me very uneasy; where\ndid you catch them? Sir, answered he, I fish for them in a pond\nsituated betwixt four hills, beyond the mountain that we see from\nhence. Know\u2019st not thou that pond? said the sultan to the vizier.\nNo, sir, replied the vizier, I never so much as heard of it,\nalthough I have for sixty years hunted beyond that mountain. The\nsultan asked the fisherman, how far the pond might be from the\npalace? The fisherman answered, it was not above three hours\njourney; upon this assurance, and there being day enough beforehand,\nthe sultan commanded all his court to take horse, and the fisherman\nserved them for a guide. They all ascended the mountain, and at the\nfoot of it, they saw, to their great surprise, a vast plain, that\nnobody had observed till then, and at last they came to the pond,\nwhich they found actually to be situated betwixt four hills, as the\nfisherman had described. The water was so transparent, that they\nobserved all the fish were like those which the fisherman had\nbrought to the palace.\n\nThe sultan stood upon the bank of the pond, and after beholding the\nfish with admiration, he demanded of his emirs and all his\ncourtiers, if it were possible they had never seen this pond, which\nwas within so short a distance of the town. They all answered, that\nthey had never so much as heard of it.\n\nSince you all agree, said he, that you never heard of it, and as I\nam no less astonished than you are, at this novelty, I am resolved\nnot to return to my palace till I know how this pond came here, and\nwhy all the fish in it are of four colours. Having spoke thus, he\nordered his court to encamp; and immediately his pavilion, and the\ntents of his household, were planted upon the banks of the pond.\n\nWhen night came, the sultan retired under his pavilion, and spoke to\nthe grand vizier, by himself, thus: Vizier, my mind is very uneasy:\nthis pond transported hither, the black that appeared to us in my\ncloset, and the fishes that we heard speak, all this does so much\nexcite my curiosity, that I cannot resist the impatient desire which\nI have to be satisfied in it. To this end, I am resolved to withdraw\nalone from the camp, and I order you to keep my absence secret; stay\nin my pavilion, and tomorrow morning, when the emirs and courtiers\ncome to attend my levee, send them away, and tell them that I am\nsomewhat indisposed, and have a mind to be alone; and the following\nday tell them the same thing, till I return.\n\nThe grand vizier said several things 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 on it, and would go. He\nput on a suit fit for walking, and took his scimitar; and as soon as\nhe saw that all was quiet in the camp, he went out alone, and went\nover one of the hills without much difficulty. He found the descent\nstill more easy, and when he came to the plain, walked on till the\nsun arose, and then he saw before him, at a considerable distance, a\ngreat building. He rejoiced at the sight, in hopes to be informed\nthere of what he wanted to know. When he came near, he found it was\na magnificent palace, or rather a very strong castle, of fine black\npolished marble, and covered with fine steel, as smooth as a\nlooking-glass. Being highly pleased that he had so speedily met with\nsomething worthy his curiosity, he stopped before the front of the\ncastle, and considered it with attention.\n\nHe afterwards came up to the gate, which had two leaves, one of them\nopen; though he might have entered when he would, yet he thought it\nbest to knock. He knocked, at first softly, and waited for some\ntime; seeing nobody, and supposing they had not heard him, he\nknocked harder the second time, but neither seeing nor hearing any\nbody, he knocked again and again, but nobody appearing, it surprised\nhim extremely; for he could not think that a castle in so good\nrepair was without inhabitants. If there be nobody in it, says he to\nhimself, I have nothing to fear; and if there be, I have wherewith\nto defend myself.\n\nAt last he entered, and when he came within the porch, he cried, Is\nthere nobody here to receive a stranger, who comes in for some\nrefreshment as he passes by? He repeated the same two or three\ntimes; but though he spoke very high, nobody answered. The silence\nincreased his astonishment: he came into a very spacious court, and\nlooking on every side, to see if he could perceive any body, he saw\nno living thing. But, sir, says Scheherazade, day appears, and I\nmust stop.\n\nAh! sister, says Dinarzade, you break off at the very best of the\nstory. It is true, answered the sultaness; but, sister, you see I am\nforced to do so. If my lord, the sultan, pleases, you may hear the\nrest tomorrow. Schahriar agreed to this, not so much to please\nDinarzade, as to satisfy his own curiosity, being impatient to know\nwhat adventure the prince met with in the castle.\n\n\n\n\nTWENTY-FIRST NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade, to make amends for her neglect the night before, never\nclosed her eyes, and when she thought it was time, awaked the\nsultaness, saying to her, My dear sister, pray give us an account of\nwhat happened in the fine castle where you left us yesterday.\n\nScheherazade forthwith resumed her story, and addressing herself to\nSchahriar, said, sir, the sultan perceiving nobody in the court,\nentered the great halls, which were hung with silk tapestry, the\nalcoves and sofas were covered with stuffs of Mecca, and the porches\nwith the richest stuffs of India, mixed with gold and silver. He\ncame afterwards into an admirable saloon, in the middle of which\nthere was a great fountain, with a lion of massy gold at each\ncorner: water issued from the mouths of the four lions, and this\nwater, as it fell, formed diamonds and pearls, that very well\nanswered a jet of water, which, springing from the middle of the\nfountain, rose as high almost as the bottom of a cupola painted\nafter the Arabian manner.\n\nThe castle, on three sides, was encompassed by a garden, with\nflower-pots, water-works, groves, and a thousand other fine things\nconcurring to embellish it; and to complete the beauty of the place,\nan infinite number of birds filled the air with their harmonious\nnotes, and always stayed there, nets being spread over the trees,\nand fastened to the palace to keep them in. The sultan walked a long\ntime from apartment to apartment, where he found every thing very\ngrand and magnificent. Being tired with walking, he set down in an\nopen closet, which had a view over the garden, and there reflecting\nupon what he had already seen, and then saw, all of a sudden he\nheard the voice of one complaining accompanied with lamentable\ncries. He listened with attention, and heard distinctly these sad\nwords: \u201cO, fortune! thou who wouldest not suffer me longer to\nenjoy a happy lot, and hast made me the most unfortunate man in the\nworld, forbear to persecute me, and by a speedy death put an end to\nmy sorrows. Alas! is it possible that I am still alive, after so\nmany torments as I have suffered.\u201d\n\nThe sultan, being affected with these pitiful complaints, rose up,\nand made toward the place where he heard the voice; and when he came\nto the gate of a great hall, he opened it, and saw a handsome young\nman, richly habited, set upon a throne raised a little above the\nground. Melancholy was painted on his looks. The sultan drew near\nand saluted him; the young man returned him his salute, by a low bow\nwith his head; but not being able to rise up, he said to the sultan,\nMy lord, I am very well satisfied that you deserve I should rise up\nto receive you, and do you all possible honour; but I am hindered\nfrom doing so, by a very sad reason, and therefore hope you will not\ntake it ill. My lord, replies the sultan, I am very much obliged to\nyou for having so good an opinion of me; as to the reason of your\nnot rising, whatever your apology be, I heartily accept it. Being\ndrawn hither by your complaints, and afflicted by your grief, I come\nto offer you my help; would to God that it lay in my power to ease\nyou of your trouble; I would do my utmost to effect it. I flatter\nmyself that you would willingly tell me the history of your\nmisfortunes; but pray tell me first the meaning of the pond near the\npalace, where the fishes are of four colours? what this castle is?\nhow you came to be here? and why you are alone?\n\nInstead of answering these questions, the young man began to weep\nbitterly. How inconstant is fortune! cried he: she takes pleasure to\npull down those she had raised up. Where are they who enjoy quietly\nthe happiness which they hold of her, and whose day is always clear\nand serene?\n\nThe sultan, moved with compassion to see him in that condition,\nprayed him forthwith to tell him the cause of his excessive grief.\nAlas! my lord, replies the young man, how is it possible but I\nshould grieve, and my eyes be inexhaustible fountains of tears? At\nthese words, lifting up his gown, he shewed the sultan that he was a\nman only from the head to the girdle, and that the other half of his\nbody was black marble. Here Scheherazade broke off and told the\nsultan that day appeared.\n\nSchahriar was so much charmed with the story, and became so much in\nlove with Scheherazade, that he resolved to let her live a month. He\nrose, however, as usual, without acquainting her with his resolution.\n\n\n\n\nTWENTY-SECOND NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade was so impatient to hear out the story, that she called\nher sister next morning sooner than usual, and said to her, sister,\npray continue the wonderful story you began, but could not make an\nend of yesterday morning. I agree to it, replies the sultaness;\nhearken, then:\n\nYou may easily imagine, continued she, that the sultan was strangely\nsurprised, when he saw the deplorable condition of the young man.\nThat which you show me, says he, while it fills me with horror,\nexcites my curiosity, so that I am impatient to hear your history,\nwhich, no doubt, is very extraordinary, and I am persuaded that the\npond and the fishes make some part of it; therefore I conjure you to\ntell it me; you will find some comfort in it, since it is certain,\nthat unfortunate people will find some sort of ease in telling their\nmisfortunes. I will not refuse you this satisfaction, replies the\nyoung man, though I cannot do it without renewing my grief. But I\ngive you notice beforehand, to prepare your ears, your mind, and\neven your eyes, for things which surpass all that the most\nextraordinary imagination can conceive.\n\n\n\n\nThe History of the young King of the Black Isles.\n\n\nYou must know, my lord, continued he, that my father, who was called\nMahmoud, was king of this country. This is the kingdom of the Black\nIsles, which takes its name from the four little neighbouring\nmountains; for those mountains were formerly isles: the capital,\nwhere the king my father had his residence, was where that pond you\nnow see is. The sequel of my history will inform you of all those\nchanges.\n\nThe king my father died when he was seventy years of age; I had no\nsooner succeeded him, but I married, and the lady I chose to share\nthe royal dignity with me, was my cousin. I had all the reason\nimaginable to be satisfied in her love to me; and, for my part, I\nhad so much tenderness for her, that nothing was comparable to the\ngood understanding betwixt us, which lasted five years, at the end\nof which time I perceived the queen, my cousin, had no more delight\nin me.\n\nOne day, while she was at the bath, I found myself inclined to sleep\nafter dinner, and lay down upon a sofa. Two of her ladies, who were\nthen in my chamber, came and sat down, one at my head, and the other\nat my feet, with fans in their hands, to moderate the heat, and to\nhinder the flies from troubling me in my sleep. They thought I was\nfast, and spoke very low; but I only shut my eyes, and heard every\nword they said.\n\nOne of them says to the other, Is not the queen much in the wrong,\nnot to love such an amiable prince as this? Certainly, replies the\nother; for my part, I do not understand it; and I know not why she\ngoes out every night, and leaves him alone! Is it possible that he\ndoes not perceive it! Alas! says the first, how would you have him\nperceive it? She mixes every evening in his drink, the juice of a\ncertain herb, which makes him sleep so sound all night, that she has\ntime to 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 something\nshe puts under his nose.\n\nYou may guess, my lord, how much I was surprised at this\nconversation, and with what sentiments it inspired me; yet, whatever\nemotions it excited in me, I had command enough over myself to\ndissemble, and feigned to awake without having heard one word of it.\n\nThe queen returned from the bath, we supped together, and before we\nwent to bed, she, with her own hand, presented me with a cup full of\nsuch water as I was accustomed to drink: but instead of putting it\ninto my mouth, I went to a window that was open, and threw out the\nwater so quickly, that she did not perceive it, and I put the cup\nagain into her hands, to persuade her that I had drank it.\n\nWe went to bed together, and soon after, believing that I was\nasleep, though I was not, she got up with so little precaution, that\nshe said so loud that I could hear it distinctly, Sleep, and may you\nnever wake again! She dressed herself speedily, and went out of the\nchamber. As Scheherazade spoke these words, she saw day appear, and\nstopped.\n\nDinarzade had heard her sister with a great deal of pleasure, and\nSchahriar thought the history of the king of the Black Isles so\nworthy of his curiosity, that he rose up full of impatience for the\nrest of it.\n\n\n\n\nTWENTY-THIRD NIGHT.\n\n\nAn hour before day, Dinarzade being awake, failed not to call upon\nthe sultaness, and said, Pray, dear sister, go on with the history\nof the young king of the four Black Islands; Scheherazade, calling\nto mind where she had left off, resumed the story thus:\n\nAs soon as the queen my wife went out, continued the king of the\nBlack Islands, I got up, dressed me in haste, took my scimitar, and\nfollowed her so quick, that I soon heard the sound of her feet\nbefore me, and then walked softly after her, for fear of being\nheard. She passed through several gates, which opened upon her\npronouncing some magical words; and the last she opened was that of\nthe garden, which she entered. I stopped at that gate, that she\nmight not perceive me as she crossed a plat, and looking after her\nas far as the darkness of the night permitted, I perceived that she\nentered a little wood, whose walks were guarded by thick pallisades.\nI went thither by another way, and slipping behind the pallisades of\na long walk, I saw her walking there with a man.\n\nI was very attentive to their discourse, and heard her say thus to\nher gallant: I do not deserve to be upbraided by you for want of\ndiligence; you know very well what hinders me; but if all the tokens\nof love that I have already given you, be not enough, I am ready to\ngive you greater: you need but command me, you know my power. I\nwill, if you desire it, before sun-rising, change this great city,\nand this fine palace, into frightful ruins, which shall be inhabited\nby nothing but wolves, owls, and ravens. If you wish me to transport\nall the stones of those walls so solidly built, beyond mount\nCaucasus, and out of the bounds of the habitable world, speak but\nthe word, and all those places shall undergo a change.\n\nAs the queen finished these words, her gallant and she came to the\nend of the walk, turned to enter another, and passed before me. I\nhad already drawn my scimitar, and her gallant being next me, I\nstruck him in the neck, and made him fall to the ground. I thought I\nhad killed him, and therefore retired speedily, without making\nmyself known to the queen, whom I chose to spare because she was my\nkinswoman.\n\nThe blow I had given her gallant was mortal; but she preserved his\nlife by the force of her enchantments; in such a manner, however,\nthat he could not be said to be either dead or alive. As I crossed\nthe garden, to return to the palace, I heard the queen cry out\nlamentably; and judging by that now much she was grieved, I was\npleased that I had spared her life.\n\nWhen I returned to her apartment, I went to bed, and being satisfied\nwith having punished the villain that did me the injury, I went to\nsleep; and when I awaked next morning, found the queen lying by me.\nScheherazade was obliged to stop here because she saw day.\n\nO, heaven! sister, says Dinarzade, how it troubles me that you can\nsay no more. Sister, replies the sultaness, you ought to have awaked\nme more early, it is your fault. I will make amends next night,\nreplies Dinarzade, for I doubt not out the sultan will be as willing\nto hear out the story as I am; and I hope he will be so good as to\nlet you live one day more.\n\n\n\n\nTWENTY-FOURTH NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade was actually as good as her word. She called the sultaness\nvery early, saying, Dear sister, if you be not asleep, pray finish\nthe agreeable history of the king of the Black Isles; I am ready to\ndie with impatience to know how he came to be changed into marble.\nYou shall hear it, replies Scheherazade, if the sultan will give me\nleave.\n\nI found the queen lying by me, says the king of the Black Islands: I\ncannot tell you whether she slept or not; but I got up without\nmaking any noise, and went to my closet, where I made an end of\ndressing myself. I afterwards went and held my council, and at my\nreturn, the queen, clad in mourning, her hair hanging about her\neyes, and part of it torn off, presented herself before me, and\nsaid: Sir, I come to beg your majesty not to be surprised to see me\nin this condition; three afflicting pieces of news, I have just now\nreceived all at once, are the cause of my heavy grief, of which the\ntokens you see are but very faint expressions. Alas! what is that\nnews, madam, said I. The death of the queen, my dear mother,\nanswered she; that of the king, my father, killed in battle; and\nthat of one of my brothers, who is also fallen down a precipice.\n\nI was not ill pleased that she made use of this pretext to hide the\ntrue cause of her grief, and I thought she had not suspected me of\nhaving killed her gallant. Madam, says I, I am so far from blaming\nyour grief, that I assure you, I take my share in it. I should very\nmuch wonder if you were insensible of so great a loss: mourn on;\nyour tears are so many proofs of your good nature; I hope, however,\nthat time and reason will moderate your grief.\n\nShe retired into her apartment, where giving herself wholly up to\nsorrow, she spent a whole year in mourning, and afflicting herself.\nAt the end of that time, she begged leave of me to build a burying\nplace for herself, within the bounds of the palace, where she would\ncontinue, she told me, to the end of her days; I agreed to it, and\nshe built a stately palace, with a cupola, that may be seen from\nhence, and she called it the Palace of Tears. When it was finished,\nshe caused her gallant to be brought thither, from the place whither\nshe had caused him to be carried the same night that I wounded him;\nshe had hindered his dying, by a drink she gave him, and carried to\nhim herself every day after he came to the Palace of Tears.\n\nYet, with all her enchantments, she could not cure the wretch; he\nwas not only unable to walk and to help himself, but had also lost\nthe use of his speech, and gave no sign of life, but by his looks.\nThough the queen had no other consolation but to see him, and to say\nto him all that her foolish passion could inspire, yet every day she\nmade him two long visits. I was very well informed of all this, but\npretended to know nothing of it.\n\nOne day I went out of curiosity to the Palace of Tears, to see how\nthe princess employed herself; and going to a place where she could\nnot see me, I heard her speak thus to her gallant: I am afflicted to\nthe highest degree to see you in this condition; I am as sensible as\nyourself of the tormenting pain you endure; but, dear soul, I always\nspeak to you, and you do not answer me; How long will you be silent.\nSpeak only one word: Alas! the sweetest moments of my life are these\nI spend here in partaking of your grief. I cannot live at a distance\nfrom you, and would prefer the pleasure of always seeing you, to the\nempire 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 mourned enough, it is time to give\nover this sorrow, which dishonours us both; you have too much\nforgotten what you owe to me and to yourself. Sir, said she, if you\nhave any kindness or complaisance left for me, I beseech you to put\nno restraint upon me; allow me to give myself up to mortal grief,\nwhich it is impossible for time to lessen.\n\nWhen I saw that my discourse, instead of bringing her to her duty,\nserved only to increase her rage, I gave over and retired. She\ncontinued every day to visit her gallant, and for two whole years\ngave herself up to excessive grief.\n\nI went a second time to the Palace of Tears, while she was there. I\nhid myself again, and heard her speak thus to her gallant: It is now\nthree years since you spoke one word to me; you return no answer to\nthe expressions of love I give you by my discourse and groans. Is it\nfrom insensibility, or contempt? O, tomb! hast thou abated that\nexcessive love he had for me? Hast thou shut those eyes that showed\nme so much love, and were all my joy? No, no, I believe nothing of\nit. Tell me rather, by what miracle thou becamest the depository of\nthe rarest treasure that ever was in the world.\n\nI must confess, my lord, I was enraged at these words; for, in\nshort, this gallant so much doted upon, this adored mortal, was not\nsuch a one as you would imagine him to have been. He was a black\nIndian, a native of that country. I say, I was so enraged at that\ndiscourse, that I discovered myself all of a sudden, and addressing\nthe tomb in my turn: O, tomb! cried I, why dost not thou swallow up\nthat monster in nature, or rather, why dost not thou swallow up the\ngallant and his mistress?\n\nI had scarce finished these words, when the queen, who sat by the\nblack, rose up like a fury. Cruel man! said she, thou art the cause\nof my grief; do not you think that I know it? I have dissembled it\nbut too long; it is thy barbarous hand which hath brought the object\nof my love into this lamentable condition; and you are so\nhard-hearted as to come and insult a despairing lover. Yes, said I,\nin a rage, it was I who chastised that monster, according to his\ndesert; I ought to have treated thee in the same manner; I repent\nnow that I did not do it; thou hast abused my goodness too long. As\nI spoke these words, I drew out my scimitar, and lifted up my hand\nto punish her; but she, steadfastly beholding me, said, with a\njeering smile, Moderate thy anger. At the same time, she pronounced\nwords I did not understand; and afterwards added, By virtue of my\nenchantments, I command thee immediately to become half marble and\nhalf man. Immediately, my lord, I became such as you see me already,\na dead man among the living, and a living man among the dead. Here\nScheherazade, perceiving day, broke off her story.\n\nUpon which Dinarzade says, Dear sister, I am extremely obliged to\nthe sultan: it is to his goodness I owe the extraordinary pleasure I\nhave in your stories. My sister, replies the sultaness, if the\nsultan will be so good as to suffer me to live till to-morrow, I\nshall tell you a thing that will afford as much satisfaction as any\nthing you have yet heard. Though Schahriar had not resolved to defer\nthe death of Scheherazade a month longer, he could not have ordered\nher to be put to death that day.\n\n\n\n\nTWENTY-FIFTH NIGHT.\n\n\nTowards the end of the night, Dinarzade cried, Sister, if I do not\ntrespass too much upon your complaisance, I would pray you to finish\nthe history of the king of the Black Islands. Scheherazade having\nawaked upon her sister\u2019s call, prepared to give her the\nsatisfaction she required, and began thus:\n\nThe king, half marble and half man, continued his history to the\nsultan thus: After this cruel magician, unworthy of the name of a\nqueen, had metamorphosed me thus, and brought me into this hall, by\nanother enchantment she destroyed my capital, which was very\nflourishing, and full of people; she abolished the houses, the\npublic places and markets, and reduced it to the pond and desert\nfield, which you may have seen: the fishes of four colours in the\npond are the four sorts of people, of different religions, who\ninhabited the place. The white are the Mussulmen; the red, the\nPersians, who worshipped the fire; the blue, the Christians; and the\nyellow, the Jews. The four little hills were the four islands that\ngave name to this kingdom. I learned all this from the magician,\nwho, to add to my affliction, told me with her own mouth those\neffects of her rage. But this is not all: her revenge was not\nsatisfied with the destruction of my dominions, and the\nmetamorphosis of my person; she comes every day, and gives me over\nmy naked shoulders a hundred blows with an ox-pizzle, which makes me\nall over blood: and when she has done, covers me with a coarse stuff\nof goat\u2019s hair, and throws over it this robe of brocade that you\nsee, not to do me honour, but to mock me.\n\nAfter this part of the discourse, the young king could not withhold\nhis tears; and the sultan\u2019s heart was so pierced with the\nrelation, that he could not speak one word to comfort him. A little\ntime after, the young king, lifting up his eyes to heaven, cried\nout, \u201cMighty Creator of all things, I submit myself to thy\njudgments, and to the decrees of thy providence: I endure my\ncalamities with patience, since it is thy will it should be so; but\nI hope thy infinite goodness will reward me for it.\u201d\n\nThe sultan being much moved by the recital of so strange a story,\nand animated to avenge this unfortunate prince, says to him, Tell me\nwhither this perfidious magician retires, and where may be her\nunworthy gallant, who is buried before his death. My lord, replies\nthe prince, her gallant, as I have already told you, is in the\nPalace of Tears, in a handsome tomb in form of a dome, and that\npalace joins to this castle on the side of the gate. As to the\nmagician, I cannot precisely tell whither she retires, but every day\nat sun-rising she goes to see her gallant, after having executed her\nbloody vengeance upon me, as I have told you; and you see I am not\nin a condition to defend myself against so great a cruelty. She\ncarries him the drink with which she has hitherto prevented his\ndying, and always complains of his never speaking to her since he\nwas wounded.\n\nUnfortunate prince, says the sultan, you can never enough be\nlamented! Nobody can be more sensibly touched with your condition\nthan I am; never did such an extraordinary misfortune befal any man,\nand those who write your history will have the advantage to relate\nsomething that surpasses all that has ever yet been written. There\nwants but the vengeance which is due to you, and I will omit nothing\nthat can be done to procure it.\n\nWhile the sultan discoursed upon the subject with the young prince,\nhe told him who he was, and for what end he entered the castle, and\nthought on a way to avenge him, which he communicated to him. They\nagreed upon the measures they were to take for effecting their\ndesign, but deferred the execution of it till the next day. In the\nmean time, the night being far spent, the sultan took some rest; but\nthe poor young prince passed the night without sleep, as usual,\nhaving never slept since he was enchanted; but conceived some hopes\nof being speedily delivered from his misery.\n\nNext morning the sultan got up before day, and, in order to execute\nhis design, he hid in a corner his upper garment, which would have\nencumbered him, and went to the Palace of Tears. He found it\nenlightened with an infinite number of flambeaux of white wax, and a\ndelicious scent issued from several boxes of fine gold of admirable\nworkmanship, all ranged in excellent order. As soon as he saw the\nbed where the black lay, he drew his scimitar, killed the wretch\nwithout resistance, dragged his corpse into the court of the castle,\nand threw it into a well. After this he went and lay down in the\nblack\u2019s bed, took his scimitar with him under the counterpane, and\nwaited there to execute his design.\n\nThe magician arrived in a little time. She first went into the\nchamber where her husband, the king of the Black Islands, was,\nstripped him, and beat him with the ox-pizzle in the most barbarous\nmanner. The poor prince filled the palace with his lamentations to\nno purpose, and conjured her in the most affecting manner to take\npity on him; but the cruel woman would not give over till she had\ngiven him a hundred blows. You had no compassion on my lover, said\nshe, and you are to expect none from me. Scheherazade, perceiving\nday, stopped, and could go no further.\n\nO, heavens! says Dinarzade, sister, this was a barbarous enchantress\nindeed! but must we stop here? Will you not tell us whether she\nreceived the chastisement she deserved? My dear sister, says the\nsultaness, I desire nothing more than to acquaint you with it\nto-morrow; but you know that depends on the sultan\u2019s pleasure.\nAfter what Schahriar had heard, he was far from any design to put\nScheherazade to death; on the contrary, he said to himself, I will\nnot take away her life until she has finished the surprising story,\nthough it should last for two months. It will always be in my power\nto keep the oath I have made.\n\n\n\n\nTWENTY-SIXTH NIGHT.\n\n\nAs soon as Dinarzade thought it time to call the sultaness, she said\nto her, How much should I be obliged to you, dear sister, if you\nwould tell us what passed in the Palace of Tears. Schahriar having\nsignified that he was as curious to know it as Dinarzade, the\nsultaness resumed the story of the young enchanted prince as follows:\n\nSir, after the enchantress had given the king, her husband, a\nhundred blows with the ox-pizzle, she put on again his covering of\ngoat\u2019s hair, and his brocade gown over all. She went afterwards to\nthe Palace of Tears, and as she entered the same, she renewed her\ntears and lamentations; then approaching the bed where she thought\nher gallant was, What cruelty, cries she, was it to disturb the\nsatisfaction of so tender and passionate a lover as I am? O, thou\nwho reproachest me that I am too inhuman, when I make thee feel the\neffects of my resentment! Cruel prince! Does not thy barbarity\nsurpass my vengeance? Ah, traitor! in attempting the life of the\nobject which I adore, hast thou not robbed me of mine? Alas! says\nshe, addressing herself to the sultan, while she thought she spoke\nto the black, my sun, my life! will you always be silent? Are you\nresolved to let me die, without giving me the comfort of telling me\nthat you love me? My soul, speak one word to me, at least, I conjure\nyou.\n\nThe sultan, making as if he had awaked out of a deep sleep, and\ncounterfeiting the language or the blacks, answered the queen with a\ngrave tone, \u201cThere is no strength or power but in God alone, who\nis almighty.\u201d At these words the enchantress, who did not expect\nthem, gave a great shout, to signify her excessive joy. My dear\nlord, cried she, do not I deceive myself? Is it certain that I hear\nyou, and that you speak to me? Unhappy wretch! said the sultan, art\nthou worthy that I should answer thy discourse? Alas! replies the\nqueen, why do you reproach me thus? The cries, replied he, the\ngroans and tears of thy husband, whom thou treatest every day with\nso much indignity and barbarity, hinder me from sleeping night and\nday. I should have been cured long ago, and have recovered the use\nof my speech, hadst thou disenchanted him. That is the cause of my\nsilence, which you complain of. Very well, says the enchantress; to\npacify you, I am ready to do what you will command me: would you\nhave me restore him as he was? Yes, replies the sultan; make haste\nto set him at liberty, that I be no more disturbed with his cries.\n\nThe enchantress went immediately out of the Palace of Tears: she\ntook a cup of water, and pronounced words over it, which caused it\nto boil, as if it had been on the fire. She went afterwards to the\nhall to the young king, her husband, and threw the water upon him,\nsaying, \u201cIf the Creator of all things did form thee so as thou art\nat present, or if he be angry with thee, do not change: but if thou\nart in that condition merely by virtue of my enchantments, resume\nthy natural shape, and become what thou wast before.\u201d She had\nscarce spoken these words, when the prince, finding himself restored\nto his former condition, rose up freely, with all imaginable joy,\nand returned thanks to God. The enchantress then said to him, Get\nthee gone from this castle, and never return here on pain of death!\nThe young king, yielding to necessity, went away from the\nenchantress, without replying a word, and retired to a remote place,\nwhere he patiently awaited the success of the design which the\nsultan had so happily begun. Meanwhile the enchantress returned to\nthe Palace of Tears; and, supposing that she still spoke to the\nblack, says, Dear lover, I have done what you ordered; let nothing\nnow hinder you from giving me that satisfaction of which I have been\ndeprived so long.\n\nThe sultan continued to counterfeit the language of the blacks: That\nwhich you have just now done, said he, is not sufficient to my cure.\nYou have only eased me of part of my disease; you must cut it up by\nthe roots. My lovely black, replies she, what do you mean by the\nroots? Unfortunate woman, replies the sultan, do not you understand\nthat I mean the town, and its inhabitants, and the four islands,\nwhich thou hast destroyed by thy enchantments? The fishes every\nnight at midnight raise their heads out of the pond, and cry for\nvengeance against thee and me. This is the true cause of the delay\nof my cure. Go speedily, restore things as they were, and at thy\nreturn I will give thee my hand, and thou shalt help me to rise.\n\nThe enchantress, filled with hopes from these words, cried out in a\ntransport of joy, My heart! my soul! you shall soon be restored to\nyour health, for I will immediately do what you command me.\nAccordingly she went that moment; and when she came to the brink of\nthe pond, she took a little water in her hand, and sprinkling it\n--Here Scheherazade saw day, and stopped.\n\nDinarzade says to the sultaness, Sister, I am much rejoiced to hear\nthat the young king of the four Black Islands was disenchanted, and\nI already consider the town and the inhabitants as restored to their\nformer state; but I long to know what will become of the\nenchantress. Have a little patience, replies the sultaness; you\nshall have the satisfaction you desire tomorrow, if the sultan, my\nlord, will consent to it. Schahriar, having resolved on this\nalready, as was said before, rose up, and went about his business.\n\n\n\n\nTWENTY-SEVENTH NIGHT.\n\n\nAt the usual hour, Dinarzade called upon the sultaness thus: Dear\nsister, pray tell us what was the fate of the magician queen, as you\npromised us. Upon which Scheherazade went on thus: The enchantress\nhad no sooner sprinkled the water, and pronounced some words over\nthe fishes and the pond, but the city was immediately restored. The\nfishes became men, women, and children: Mahometans, Christians,\nPersians, or Jews; freemen or slaves, as they were before; every one\nhaving recovered their natural form. The houses and shops were\nimmediately filled with their inhabitants, who found all things as\nthey were before the enchantment. The sultan\u2019s numerous retinue,\nwho found themselves encamped in the largest square, were astonished\nto see themselves in an instant in the middle of a large, handsome,\nwell-peopled city.\n\nTo return to the enchantress: as soon as she had effected this\nwonderful change, she returned with all diligence to the Palace of\nTears, that she might reap the fruits of it. My dear lord, cried\nshe, as she entered, I come to rejoice with you for the return of\nyour health. I have done all that you required of me; then pray\nrise, and give me your hand. Come near, said the sultan, still\ncounterfeiting the language of the blacks. She did so. You are not\nnear enough, replied he; come nearer. She obeyed. Then he rose up,\nand seized her by the arm so suddenly, that she had not time to\ndiscover who it was, and with a blow of his scimitar cut her in two,\nso that one half fell one way and the other another. This done, he\nleft the carcass upon the place; and going out of the Palace of\nTears, he went to seek the young king of the Black Isles, who waited\nfor him with great impatience; and when he found him, Prince, said\nhe, embracing him, rejoice; you have nothing to fear now, your cruel\nenemy is dead.\n\nThe young prince returned thanks to the sultan in such a manner as\nshewed that he was thoroughly sensible of the kindness that he had\ndone him, and in return, wished him a long life and all happiness.\nYou may henceforward, said the sultan, dwell peaceably in your\ncapital, except you will go to mine, which is so near, where you\nshall be very welcome, and have as much honour and respect shewn you\nas if you were at home. Potent monarch, to whom I am so much\nindebted, replied the king, you think, then, that you are very near\nyour capital? Yes, said the sultan, I know it; it is not above four\nor five hours\u2019 journey. It will take you a whole year\u2019s journey,\nsaid the prince. I do believe, indeed, that you came hither from\nyour capital in the time you spoke of, because mine was enchanted;\nbut since the enchantment is taken off, things are changed: however,\nthis shall not prevent my following you, were it to the utmost\ncorners of the earth. You are my deliverer; and that I may give you\nproofs of my acknowledging this during my whole life, I am willing\nto accompany you, and to leave my kingdom without regret.\n\nThe sultan was extremely surprised to understand that he was so far\nfrom his dominions, and could not imagine how it could be. But the\nyoung king of the Black Isles convinced him beyond the possibility\nof doubt. Then the sultan replied, It is no matter, the trouble of\nreturning to my own country is sufficiently recompensed by the\nsatisfaction of having obliged you, and by acquiring you for a son:\nfor since you will do me the honour to accompany me, as I have no\nchild, I look upon you as such; and from this moment I appoint you\nmy heir and successor.\n\nThis discourse between the sultan and the king of the Black Islands\nconcluded with the most affectionate embraces; after which the young\nprince was totally taken up in making preparations for his journey,\nwhich were finished in three weeks\u2019 time, to the great regret of\nhis court and subjects, who agreed to receive at his hands one of\nhis nearest kindred for their king.\n\nAt last the sultan and the young prince began their journey, with a\nhundred camels laden with inestimable riches from the treasury of\nthe young king, followed by fifty handsome gentlemen on horseback,\nperfectly well mounted and dressed. They had a very happy journey;\nand when the sultan, who had sent couriers to give advice of his\ndelay, and of the adventure which had occasioned it, came near his\ncapital, the principal officers he had left there came to receive\nhim, and to assure him that his long absence had occasioned no\nalteration in his empire. The inhabitants came out also in great\ncrowds, receiving him with acclamations, and made public rejoicings\nfor several days.\n\nNext day after his arrival, the sultan gave all his courtiers a very\nample account of the events which, contrary to his expectation, had\ndetained him so long. He acquainted them with his having adopted the\nking of the four Black Islands, who was willing to leave a great\nkingdom, to accompany and live with him; and, in short, in reward of\ntheir loyalty, he made each of them presents according to their rank.\n\nAs for the fisherman, as he was the first cause of the deliverance\nof the young prince, the sultan gave him a plentiful fortune, which\nmade him and his family happy the rest of their days.\n\nHere Scheherazade made an end of the story of the Fisherman and the\nGenie. Dinarzade signified that she had taken a great deal of\npleasure in it; and Schahriar having said the same thing, the\nsultaness told them, that she knew another which was much finer, and\nif the sultan would give her leave, she would tell it them next\nmorning, for day began to appear. Schahriar, bethinking himself that\nhe had granted the sultaness a month\u2019s reprieve, and being curious\nmoreover to know if this new story would be as agreeable as she\npromised, got up, with a desire to hear it next night.\n\n\n\n\nTWENTY-EIGHTH NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade, according to custom, did not forget to call the sultaness\nwhen it was time. Madam, said she, I know not what is the matter\nwith me, but I know very well, that one of the stories which you\ntell so agreeably would be a great relief against that melancholy\nwhich eats me up. Scheherazade, without answering her, began\nimmediately, and told the sultan the following story:\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of the Three Calendars, [3] sons of Kings, and of the Five\nLadies of Bagdad.\n\n\nSir, said she, in the reign of Caliph Haroun Alraschid, there was at\nBagdad, the place of his residence, a porter, who, notwithstanding\nhis mean and laborious business, was a fellow of wit and good\nhumour. One morning, as he was at the place where he usually plied,\nwith a great basket, waiting for employment, a handsome young lady,\ncovered with a great muslin veil, accosted him, and said, with a\npleasant air, Hark ye, porter, take your basket, and follow me. The\nporter, charmed with those few words, pronounced in so agreeable a\nmanner, took his basket immediately, set it on his head, and\nfollowed the lady, saying, O, happy day! O, day of good luck!\n\nThe lady stopped presently before a gate that was shut, and knocked:\na Christian, with a venerable long white beard, opened the gate, and\nshe put money into his hand, without speaking one word: but the\nChristian, who knew what she wanted, went in, and in a little time\nafter brought a large jug of excellent wine. Take this jug, said the\nlady to the porter, and put it in your basket. This being done, she\ncommanded him to follow her; and as she went on, the porter said\nstill, O, happy day! this is a day of agreeable surprise and joy!\n\nThe lady stopped at a fruit shop, where she bought several sorts of\napples, apricots, peaches, quinces, lemons, citrons, oranges,\nmyrtles, sweet basil, lilies, jessamin, and some other sorts of\nflowers and fragrant plants; she bade the porter put all into his\nbasket, and follow her. As she went by a butcher\u2019s stall, she made\nhim weigh 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, sasafras, and other herbs, to be\npreserved in vinegar; at another shop she bought pistachios,\nwalnuts, filberts, almonds, kernels of pine apples, and such other\nfruits; and at another she bought all sorts of confectionary. When\nthe porter had put all those things into his basket, and perceived\nthat it grew full, My good lady, said he, you ought to have given me\nnotice that you had so much provision to carry, and then I would\nhave got a horse, or rather a camel, to have carried them; for if\nyou buy ever so little more, I shall not be able to carry it. The\nlady laughed at the fellow\u2019s pleasant humour, and ordered him\nstill to follow her.\n\nThen she went to a druggist, where she furnished herself with all\nmanner of sweet-scented waters, cloves, musk, pepper, ginger, and a\ngreat piece of ambergris, and several other Indian spices. This\nquite filled the porter\u2019s basket, and she ordered him to follow\nher. They walked till they came to a magnificent house, whose front\nwas adorned with fine columns, and which had a gate of ivory. There\nthey stopped, and the lady knocked softly. Here Scheherazade,\nperceiving day, broke off.\n\nI must own, sister, says Dinarzade, the beginning of this story has\na great deal of curiosity; I fancy the sultan will not deprive\nhimself of the pleasure of hearing the rest of it. And, indeed,\nSchahriar was so far from ordering the sultaness to be put to death,\nthat he longed impatiently for next night, to know what passed in\nthe fine house.\n\n\n\n\nTWENTY-NINTH NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade being awake before day, addressed the sultaness thus:\nSister, if you be awake, I would pray you to continue the history\nyou began yesterday; and Scheherazade went on with it thus:\n\nWhile the young lady and the porter staid for the opening of the\ngate, the porter had a thousand thoughts: he wondered that such a\nfine lady should come abroad to buy provisions: he concluded she\ncould not be a slave, her air was too noble; and therefore he\nthought she must needs be a woman of quality. Just as he was about\nto ask her some questions upon that head, another lady came to open\nthe gate, and appeared to him so beautiful, that he was perfectly\nsurprised, or rather so much struck with her charms, that he had\nlike to have let his basket fall, for he had never seen any beauty\nthat equalled her.\n\nThe lady who brought the porter with her, perceiving his disorder,\nand what occasioned it, diverted herself with it, and took so much\npleasure to examine his looks, that she forgot the gate was opened.\nUpon this the beautiful lady said to her, Pray, sister, come in;\nwhat do you stay for? Do you not see this poor man so heavily laden,\nthat he is scarcely able to stand under it?\n\nWhen she entered with the porter, the lady who opened the gate shut\nit, and all three, after having gone through a very fine porch, came\ninto a spacious court, encompassed with an open gallery, which had a\ncommunication with several apartments on a floor, and\nextraordinarily magnificent. There was at the farther end of the\ncourt a sofa richly adorned, with a throne of amber in the middle of\nit, supported by four columns of ebony, enriched with diamonds and\npearls of an extraordinary size, and covered with red satin\nembroidered with Indian gold of admirable workmanship. In the middle\nof the court there was a great fountain, faced with white marble,\nand full of clear water, which fell into it abundantly out of the\nmouth of a lion of brass.\n\nThe porter, though heavy laden, could not but admire the\nmagnificence of this house, and the excellent order that every thing\nwas placed in; but that which particularly captivated his attention\nwas a third lady, who seemed to be a greater beauty than the second,\nand was seated upon the throne just now mentioned. She came down\nfrom it, as soon as she saw the two former ladies, and advanced\ntowards them; he judged by the respect which the others showed her,\nthat she was the chief, in which he was not mistaken. This lady was\ncalled Zobeide, she who opened the gate was called Safie, and Amine\nwas the name of her who went out to buy the provisions.\n\nZobeide said to the two ladies, when she came to them, Sisters, do\nnot you see that this honest man is ready to sink under his burden?\nWhy do not you ease him of it? Then Amine and Safie took the basket,\nthe one before and the other behind, and Zobeide also lent her hand,\nand all three together set it on the ground; then emptied it; and\nwhen they had done, the beautiful Amine took out money, and paid the\nporter liberally. Day-light appearing, Scheherazade was obliged to\nkeep silence; but Schahriar, having a great desire to hear the rest\nof the story, ordered the sultaness to go on with it next night.\n\n\n\n\nTHIRTIETH NIGHT.\n\n\nNext morning Dinarzade being awaked by her impatience to hear the\nrest of the story, said to the sultaness: For the sake of heaven,\nsister, if you be not asleep, give us an account of what the ladies\ndid with the provisions brought by Amine. You shall quickly hear it,\nsaid Scheherazade, if you listen to my story, which she resumed as\nfollows:\n\nThe porter, very well satisfied with the money he had received, was\nto have taken up his basket, and be gone; but he could not tell how\nto think on it. Do what he could, he found himself stopped by the\npleasure of seeing three such beauties, who appeared to him equally\ncharming; for Amine having now laid aside her veil, was as handsome\nas either of them. What surprised him most was, that he saw no man\nabout the house, yet most of the provisions he brought in, as the\ndry fruits, and the several sorts of cakes and confections, were fit\nchiefly for those who could drink and make merry.\n\nZobeide thought at first, that the porter staid only to take breath;\nbut perceiving that he staid too long, What do you wait for? said\nshe: are you not well enough paid? And turning to Amine, said,\nSister, give him something more, that he may depart satisfied.\nMadam, replied the porter, it is not that which keeps me, I am over\nand above paid; I am sensible that I am unmannerly to stay longer\nthan I ought, but I hope you will be so good as to pardon me, if I\ntell you, that I am astonished to see that there is no man with\nthree ladies of such extraordinary beauty; and you know that a\ncompany of women without men is as melancholy a thing as a company\nof men without women. To this he added several other pleasant\nthings, to prove what he said, and did not forget the Bagdad\nproverb, That the table is not completely furnished, except there be\nfour in company: and so concluded that since they were but three,\nthey wanted a fourth.\n\nThe ladies fell a laughing at the porter\u2019s discourse; after which,\nZobeide said to him very gravely, Friend, you are a little too bold;\nand though you do not deserve that I should enter into particulars\nwith you, yet I am willing to tell you, that we are three sisters,\nwho do our business so secretly, that no body knows any thing of it.\nWe have too great reason to be cautious of acquainting indiscreet\npersons with it; and a good author that we have read, says, \u201cKeep\nyour secret and do not reveal it to any body. He that reveals it is\nno longer master of it. If your own breast cannot keep your secret,\nhow do you think that another person will keep it?\u201d\n\nMy ladies, replied the porter, by your very air, I judged at first\nthat you were persons of extraordinary merit, and I conceive that I\nam not mistaken; though fortune has not given me wealth enough to\nraise me above my mean profession, yet I have not failed to\ncultivate my mind as much as I could, by reading books of science\nand history: and allow me, if you please, to tell you, that I have\nalso read in another author a maxim which I have always happily\npractised: \u201cWe do not conceal our secrets,\u201d says he, \u201cbut from\nsuch persons as are known to all the world to want discretion, and\nwould abuse the confidence we put in them; but we make no scruple to\ndiscover them to prudent persons, because we know they can keep\nthem.\u201d A secret with me is as sure as if it were in a closet,\nwhose key is lost, and the door sealed up.\n\nZobeide perceiving that the porter did not want sense, but\nconceiving he had a mind to share in their treat, she replied to\nhim, smiling, You know that we are about to have a treat, and you\nknow also that we have been at a considerable expense, and it is not\njust that you should have a share of it, without contributing\ntowards it. The beautiful Safie seconded her sister, and said to the\nporter, Friend, have you never heard that which is commonly said,\n\u201cIf you bring any thing with you, you shall be welcome; but if you\nbring nothing, you must get you gone with nothing?\u201d\n\nThe porter, notwithstanding his rhetoric, must in all probability\nhave retired in confusion, if Amine had not taken his part, and said\nto Zobeide and Safie, My dearest sisters, I conjure you to let him\nstay with us; I need not tell you that he will divert us, you see\nwell enough that he is capable of that; I must needs tell you, that\nunless he had been very willing, as well as nimble, and hardy enough\nto follow me, I could not have done so much business in so little\ntime: besides, should I repeat to you all the obliging expressions\nhe used to me by the way, you would not be surprised at my\nprotecting him.\n\nAt these words of Amine, the porter was so much transported with\njoy, that he fell on his knees, kissed the ground at the feet of\nthat charming person, and raising himself up, said, Most beautiful\nlady, you began my good fortune to-day, and now you complete it by\nthis generous action; I cannot enough testify my acknowledgment for\nit. As to what remains, my ladies, said he, addressing himself to\nall three sisters, since you do me so great honour, do not think\nthat I will abuse it, or look upon myself as a person that deserves\nit. No, I shall always look upon myself as one of your most humble\nslaves. When he had spoken these words, he would have returned the\nmoney he had received, but the grave Zobeide ordered him to keep it.\nThat which we have once given, said she, to reward those who have\nserved us, we never take again. --Here day began to dawn, which put\nScheherazade to silence.\n\nDinarzade, who listened with a great deal of attention, was much\ntroubled at it, but had this comfort, however, that the sultan, who\nwas as curious as she to know what passed betwixt the three\nbeautiful ladies and the porter, ordered the sultaness to go on with\nthe rest of the story next night, and rose up to go about his\nbusiness.\n\n\n\n\nTHIRTY-FIRST NIGHT.\n\n\nThe next morning, Dinarzade did not fail to awaken the sultaness at\nthe ordinary time, and said, Dear sister, if you are not asleep, I\nwould pray you, (until break of day, which is near at hand,) to go\non with that agreeable story you began. Upon which Scheherazade\naddressed the sultan thus: Sir, with your leave, I am willing to\nsatisfy my sister\u2019s curiosity; and at the same time, went on with\nthe story of the Three Calenders.\n\nZobeide would not take back the money from the porter, but said, My\nfriend, in consenting that you stay with us, I must forewarn you,\nthat it is not only on condition that you keep secret what we have\nrequired you, but also that you observe exactly the rules of good\nmanners and civility. In the mean time the charming Amine put off\nthe apparel she went abroad with, put on her night-gown that she\nmight be more easy, and covered the table, which she furnished with\nseveral sorts of meat, and upon a side-board she set bottles of wine\nand cups of gold. Soon after the ladies took their places, and made\nthe porter sit down by them, who was overjoyed to see himself at\ntable with three such admirable beauties. After they had eaten a\nlittle, Amine, who sat next the sideboard, took up a bottle and a\ncup, filled out wine, and drank first herself, according to the\ncustom of the Arabians; then she filled the cup to her sisters, who\ndrank in course as they sat; and at last she filled it the fourth\ntime to the porter, who, as he received it, kissed Amine\u2019s hand;\nand before he drank, sung a song to this purpose: That as the wind\nbrings along with it the sweet scents of the perfumed places through\nwhich it passes, so the wine he was going to drink, coming from her\nfair hands, received a more exquisite taste than what it had of its\nown nature. This song pleased the ladies so much, that each of them\nsung another in their turn. In short, they were very merry all\ndinner-time, which lasted a long while, and nothing was wanting that\ncould make it agreeable. The day being almost spent, Safie spoke in\nthe name of the three ladies, and said to the porter, Arise, and be\ngone; it is time for you to depart. But the porter, not willing to\nleave so good company, cried, Alas! ladies, whither do you command\nme to go in the condition I am in? I am quite beside myself, by what\nI have seen since I came hither, and having also drank above my\nusual quantity, I shall never find the way home: allow me this night\nto repose in any place where you please, for no less time is\nnecessary for me to recover myself; but go when I will, I shall\nleave the best part of myself behind me.\n\nAmine pleaded the second time for the porter, saying, Sisters, he is\nin the right; I am pleased with the request, he having already\ndiverted us so well; and, if you will take my advice, or if you love\nme as much as I think you do, let us keep him, to pass away the\nremaining part of the night. Sister, answered Zobeide, we can refuse\nyou nothing; and then turning to the porter, said, We are willing\nonce more to grant your request, but upon this new condition, that\nwhatever we do in your presence relating to ourselves or any thing\nelse, take heed you do not once open your mouth to ask the reason of\nit; for if you ask questions about that which does not belong to\nyou, you may chance to know that which will be no way pleasing to\nyou; beware, therefore, and do not be too curious to dive into the\nmotives of our actions.\n\nMadam, replied the porter, I promise to observe this condition with\nsuch exactness, that you shall have no cause to reproach me with\nbreaking it, and far less to punish my indiscretion: my tongue shall\nbe immoveable on this occasion, and my eye like a looking-glass,\nwhich retains nothing of the object that is set before it. And to\nshow you, said Zobeide with a serious countenance, that what we\ndemand of you is not a new thing among us, rise up, and read what is\nwritten over our gate on the inside.\n\nThe porter went thither, and read these words, written in large\ncharacters of gold: \u201cHe who speaks of things that do not concern\nhim, shall hear of things that will not please him.\u201d Returning\nagain to the three sisters, Ladies, said he, I give you my oath,\nthat you shall never hear me speak any thing which does not concern\nme, or wherein you may have any concern.\n\nThis agreement being made, Amine brought in supper, and after the\nroom was set round with tapers, that were mixed with aloes and\nambergris, which gave a most agreeable scent, as well as a delicate\nlight, she sat down at table with her sisters and the porter. They\nbegan again to eat and drink, sing, and repeat verses. The ladies\ntook pleasure to fuddle the porter, under pretext of causing him to\ndrink their healths, and abundance of witty sentences passed on both\nsides. In short, as they were all in the best humour in the world,\nthey heard a knocking at the gate.\n\nScheherazade was obliged to stop here, because she observed\nday-light appearing.\n\nThe sultan, not doubting the sequel of this history deserved to be\nheard, put it off till the day following, and so arose.\n\n\n\n\nTHIRTY-SECOND NIGHT.\n\n\nThe next night being almost at an end, Dinarzade called to the\nsultaness; for heaven\u2019s sake, sister, if you are awake, let me\npray you to continue the story of the three fair ladies: I am very\nimpatient till I know who it was that knocked at their gate. You\nshall hear it immediately, said she; I am sure that what I am now\ngoing to relate is worthy of my lord the sultan\u2019s attention.\n\nWhen the ladies, said she, heard the knocking, they all three got up\nto open the gate; but Safie, to whom this office particularly\nbelonged, was the nimblest; which her other two sisters perceiving,\nsat down till she came back, to acquaint them who it could be that\nhad any business with them so late. Safie returning, said, Sisters,\nwe have here a very fine opportunity to pass a good part of the\nnight with much satisfaction, and if you be of the same mind with\nme, we shall not let it slip. There are three calenders at our gate,\nat least they appear to be such by their habit; but that which you\nwill most admire is, they are all three blind of the right eye, and\nhave their heads, beards, and eye-brows shaved, and, as they say,\nare but just come to Bagdad, where they never were before; and it\nbeing night, and not knowing where to find any lodging, they\nhappened by chance to knock at this gate, and pray us, for the love\nof heaven, to have compassion on them, and receive them into the\nhouse; they care not what place we put them in, provided they may be\nunder shelter; they would be satisfied with a stable; they are young\nand handsome enough, and seem also to be men of good sense; but I\ncannot without laughing think of their pleasant and uniform figure.\nHere Safie fell a laughing so heartily, that it put the two sisters\nand the porter into the same mood. My dear sisters, said she, are\nyou content that they come in? it is impossible but with such\npersons as I have already described them to be, we shall finish the\nday better than we began it; they will afford us diversion enough,\nand put us to no charge, because they desire shelter only for this\nnight, and resolve to leave us as soon as day appears.\n\nZobeide and Amine made some difficulty to grant Safie\u2019s request,\nfor reasons they well knew; but she having so great a desire to\nobtain this favour, they could not refuse her. Go then, said\nZobeide, and bring them in; but do not forget to acquaint them that\nthey must not speak of any thing which does not concern them, and\ncause them to read what is written over the gate. Safie ran out with\na great deal of joy, and in a little time after returned with the\nthree calenders in her company.\n\nAt their entrance they made a profound bow to the ladies, who rose\nup to receive them, told them most obligingly that they were very\nwelcome, that they were glad to have met with an opportunity to\noblige them, and to contribute towards relieving them from the\nfatigue of their journey, and at last invited them to sit down with\nthem.\n\nThe magnificence of the place, and the civility they received in it,\nmade the calenders conceive a great idea of these handsome ladies;\nbut, before they sat down, having by chance cast their eyes upon the\nporter, whom they saw clad almost like one of those other calenders\nwith whom they are in controversy about several points of\ndiscipline, because they never shave their beards nor eyebrows; one\nof them said, Look here, I believe we have got one of our revolted\nArabian brethren.\n\nThe porter being half asleep, and having his head warm with wine,\nwas affronted at these words, and with a fierce look, without\nstirring from his place, answered, Sit you down, and do not meddle\nwith what does not concern you. Have you not read the inscription\nover the gate? Do not pretend to make people live after your\nfashion, but follow ours.\n\nHonest man, said the calender, do not put yourself in a passion; we\nshould be very sorry to give you the least occasion; on the\ncontrary, we are ready to receive your commands. Upon which, to put\nan end to the dispute, the ladies interposed, and pacified them.\nWhen the calenders sat down at table, the ladies served them with\nmeat; and Safie, being most pleased with them, did not let them want\nfor drink.\n\nScheherazade stopped her discourse, because she saw day appear, and\nthe sultan got up to follow his affairs, and promised to hear the\nrest of the story next day; for he had a great desire to know why\nthose three calenders were blind, and all three of the same eye.\n\n\n\n\nTHIRTY-THIRD NIGHT.\n\n\nAn hour before day, Dinarzade being awake, said to the sultaness,\nDear sister, pray let me know what passed between the ladies and the\ncalenders. With all my heart, replied Scheherazade, and continued\nher story in the manner following:\n\nAfter the calenders had eaten and drank liberally, they signified to\nthe ladies, that they had a great desire to entertain them with a\nconcert of music, if they had any instruments in the house, and\nwould cause them to be brought: they willingly accepted the proffer,\nand fair Safie going to fetch them, returned again in a moment, and\npresented them with a flute of her own country fashion, another of\nthe Persian sort, and a tabor. Each man took the instrument he\nliked, and all three together began to play a tune. The ladies, who\nknew the words of a merry song that suited the air, joined the\nconcert with their voices; but the words of the song made them now\nand then stop, and fall into excessive laughter.\n\nIn the height of this diversion, and when the company were in the\nmidst of their jollity, somebody knocked at the gate. Safie left off\nsinging, and went to see who it was. But, sir, said Scheherazade to\nthe sultan, it is fit your majesty should know why this knocking\nhappened so late at the ladies\u2019 house. Now the reason was this:\nThe Caliph Haroun Alraschid was accustomed to walk abroad in\ndisguise very often by night, that he might see with his own eyes if\nevery thing was quiet in the city, and that no disorders were\ncommitted in it.\n\nThis night the caliph went out pretty early on his rambles,\naccompanied by Giafar his grand vizier, and Mesrour the chief of the\neunuchs of his palace, all disguised in merchant\u2019s habits; and\npassing through the street where the three ladies dwelt, he heard\nthe sound of the music and great fits of laughter; upon which he\ncommanded the vizier to knock, because he would go in, to know the\nreason of that jollity. The vizier told him in vain, that it was\nsome women merry making; that without question their heads were warm\nwith wine, and that it would not be proper he should expose himself\nto be affronted by them; besides, it was not yet an unlawful hour,\nand therefore he ought not to disturb them in their mirth. --No\nmatter, said the caliph, I command you to knock. So it was the grand\nvizier Giafar that knocked at the ladies\u2019 gate by the caliph\u2019s\norder, because he himself would not be known. Safie opened the gate,\nand the vizier perceiving, by the light that she held in her hand,\nthat she was an incomparable beauty, he acted his part very well,\nand with a very low bow and respectful behaviour, told her, Madam,\nwe are three merchants of Mossoul, who arrived about ten days ago\nwith rich merchandize, which we have in a warehouse at a khan, or\ninn, where we have also our lodging. We happened this day to be with\na merchant of this city, who invited us to a treat at his house,\nwhere we had a splendid entertainment; and the wine having put us in\nhumour, he sent for a company of dancers. Night being come on, and\nthe music and dancers making a great noise, the watch came by in the\nmean time, caused the gate to be opened, and some of the company to\nbe taken up; but we had the good fortune to escape by getting over a\nwall. Now, said the vizier, being strangers, and somewhat overcome\nwith wine, we are afraid of meeting another, and perhaps the same\nwatch, before we get home to our khan, which lies a good way from\nhence. Besides, when we come there, the gates will be shut, and not\nopened till morning: wherefore, madam, hearing, as we passed by this\nway, the sound of music, we supposed you were not yet going to rest,\nand made bold to knock at your gate, to beg the favour of lodging\nourselves in the house till morning; and if you think us worthy of\nyour good company, we will endeavour to contribute to your diversion\nto the best of our power, to make some amends for the interruption\nwe have given you; if not, we only beg the favour of staying this\nnight under your porch.\n\nWhilst Giafar held this discourse, fair Safie had time to observe\nthe vizier and his two companions, who were said to be merchants\nlike himself, and told them that she was not mistress of the house;\nbut if they would have a minute\u2019s patience, she would return with\nan answer.\n\nSafie acquainted her sisters with the matter, who considered for\nsome time what to conclude upon: but being naturally of a good\ndisposition, and having granted the same favour to the three\ncalenders, they at last consented to let them in. Scheherazade\nintending to continue her story, saw daylight appear, which made her\nbreak off: but the quality of these new actors which the sultaness\nhad brought upon the stage excited the curiosity of Schahriar, who\nlooking for some singular event, expected the next night with\nimpatience.\n\n\n\n\nTHIRTY-FOURTH NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade, being as curious as the sultan to know what the arrival\nof the caliph at the house of those three ladies might produce, did\nnot forget to awaken the sultaness very early next morning, and\nprayed her earnestly to resume the story of the calenders, whilst\nScheherazade, with leave of the sultan, pursued in the following\nmanner:\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 them the like civilities,\nsupposing them to be merchants. Zobeide, as the chief, said to them\nwith a grave and serious countenance, which was natural to her, You\nare welcome. But before I proceed farther, I hope you will not take\nit ill if we desire one favour of you. --Alas! said the vizier, what\nfavour? We can refuse nothing to such fair ladies. --Zobeide\nreplied, It is, that you would only have eyes, but no tongues; that\nyou put no question to us about the reason of any thing you may\nhappen to see, and speak not of any thing that does not concern you,\nlest you come to hear of things that will by no means please you.\n\nMadam, replied the vizier, you shall be obeyed. We are not\ncensorious, nor impertinently curious; it is enough for us to take\nnotice of that which concerns us, without meddling with that which\ndoes not 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 Giafar entertained the ladies in discourse, the\ncaliph could not forbear admiring their extraordinary beauty,\ngraceful behaviour, pleasant humour, and ready wit; on the other\nhand, nothing was more surprising to him than the calenders being\nall three blind of the right eye. He would gladly have been informed\nof this singularity; but the conditions so lately imposed upon\nhimself and his companions would not allow him to speak. This, with\nthe richness of the furniture, the exact order of every thing, and\nthe neatness of the house, made him think it was some enchanted\nplace.\n\nTheir conversation happening to turn upon diversions and different\nways of making merry, the calenders arose, and danced after their\nfashion, which augmented the good opinion the ladies had conceived\nof them, and procured them the esteem of the caliph and his\ncompanions.\n\nWhen the three calenders had made an end of their dance, Zobeide\narose, and taking Amine by the hand, said, Pray, sister, rise up,\nfor the company will not take it ill if we use our freedom, and\ntheir presence need not hinder our performance of what we are wont\nto do. Amine, understanding her sister\u2019s meaning, rose from her\nseat, carried away the dishes, the table, the flasks and cups,\ntogether with the instruments which the calenders had played upon.\n\nSafie was not idle, but swept the room, put every thing again in its\nplace, snuffed the candles, and put fresh aloes and ambergris to\nthem, and then prayed the three calenders to sit down upon the sofa\non one side, and the caliph with his companions on the other. As to\nthe porter, she said to him, Get up and prepare yourself to serve in\nwhat we are going about; a man like you, who is one of the family,\nought not to be idle. The porter, being somewhat recovered from his\nwine, got up immediately, and having tied the sleeve of his gown to\nhis belt, answered, Here am I, ready to obey your commands in any\nthing. Very well, replied Safie, stay till you are spoken to; you\nshall not be idle very long. A little time after, Amine came in with\na chair, which she placed in the middle of the room; and then went\nto a closet, which having opened, she beckoned to the porter, and\nsaid to him, Come hither and help me; which he obeying, entered the\ncloset, and returned immediately, leading two black bitches, with\neach of them a collar and chain; they looked as if they had been\nseverely whipped with rods, and he brought them into the middle of\nthe room.\n\nThen Zobeide rising from her seat between the calenders and the\ncaliph, marched very gravely towards the porter:-- Come on, said\nshe, with a great sigh; let us perform our duty; then tucking up her\nsleeves above her elbows, and receiving a rod from Safie, Porter,\nsaid she, deliver one of the bitches to my sister Amine, and come to\nme with the other.\n\nThe porter did as he was commanded; the bitch that he held in his\nhand began to cry, and turning towards Zobeide, held her head up in\na begging posture; but Zobeide, having no regard to the sad\ncountenance of the bitch, which would have moved pity, nor her\ncries, that resounded through the house, whipped her with the rod\ntill she was out of breath; and having spent her strength, that she\ncould strike no more, she threw down the rod, and taking the chain\nfrom the porter, lifted up the bitch by her paws, and looking upon\nher with a sad and pitiful countenance, they both wept; after which,\nZobeide, with her handkerchief, wiped the tears from the bitch\u2019s\neye, kissed her, returned the chain to the porter, bade him carry\nher to the place whence he took her, and bring her the other. The\nporter led back the whipped bitch to the closet, and receiving the\nother from Amine, presented her to Zobeide, who bade the porter hold\nher as he did the first, took up the rod, and treated her after the\nsame manner; and when she had wept over her, dried her eyes, and\nkissed her, and returned her to the porter: but lovely Amine spared\nhim the trouble of leading her back into the closet, and did it\nherself. The three calenders and the caliph, with his companions,\nwere extremely surprised at this execution, and could not comprehend\nwhy Zobeide, after having so furiously whipped those two bitches,\nthat by the mussulman religion are reckoned unclean animals, should\ncry with them, wipe off their tears, and kiss them: they muttered\namong themselves, and the caliph, who being more impatient than the\nrest, longed exceedingly to be informed of the cause of so strange\nan action, and could not forbear making signs to the vizier to ask\nthe question; the vizier turned his head another way; but being\npressed by repeated signs, he answered by others, that it was not\nyet time for the caliph to satisfy his curiosity.\n\nZobeide sat still some time in the middle of the room, where she had\nwhipped the two bitches, to recover herself of the fatigue; and fair\nSafie called to her, Dear sister, will you not be pleased to return\nto your place, that I may also act my part? Yes, sister, replied\nZobeide; and then went, and sat down upon the sofa, having the\ncaliph, Giafar, and Mesrour on her right hand, and the three\ncalenders, with the porter, on her left.\n\nHere, said Scheherazade to the sultan, Sir, what has been hitherto\ntold your majesty must, without doubt, appear very strange; but what\nyet remains is more wonderful; and I am persuaded your majesty will\nthink so, if you will be pleased to give me leave to finish the\nstory next night: the sultan agreed to it, and got up because it was\nday.\n\n\n\n\nTHIRTY-FIFTH NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade was no sooner awake next morning, but she called, Sister,\nif you are not asleep, pray continue the fine story of the three\nsisters. The sultaness remembering where she left off, addressed\nherself to the sultan, and went on as follows: Sir, after Zobeide\nsat down, the whole company was silent for a while; at last Safie,\nsitting on a chair in the middle of the room, spoke to her sister\nAmine --Dear sister, I conjure you to rise up; you know well enough\nwhat I would say. Amine rose, and went into another closet, near to\nthat where the bitches were, and brought out a case covered with\nyellow satin, richly embroidered with gold, and green silk: she came\nnear Safie, and opened the case, from whence she took a lute, and\npresented it to her; and after some time spent in tuning it, Safie\nbegan to play, and accompanying it with her voice, she sung a song\nabout the torments that absence creates to lovers, with so much\nsweetness, that it charmed the caliph and all the company. Having\nsung with a great deal of passion and action, she said to lovely\nAmine, Pray take it sister, for I can do no more; my voice fails me:\noblige the company with a tune, and a song, in my room. Very\nwillingly, replied Amine, who, taking the lute from her sister\nSafie, sat down in her place.\n\nAmine, after some small trial, to see whether the instrument was in\ntune, played and sung almost as long upon the same subject, but with\nso much vehemency, and she was so much affected, or rather\ntransported, by the words of the song, that her strength failed her\nas she made an end of it.\n\nZobeide, willing to testify her satisfaction, said, Sister, you have\ndone wonders, and we may easily see that you feel the grief you have\nexpressed in so lively a manner. Amine was prevented from answering\nthis civility, her heart being so sensibly touched at the same\nmoment, that she was obliged, for air, to uncover her neck and\nbreast, which did not appear so fair as might have been expected\nfrom such a lady as she, but on the contrary, black and full of\nscars, which frighted all the spectators. However, this gave her no\nease, but she fell into a fit. --Here Scheherazade stopped, saying,\nSir, I had almost forgot that it is day. With this she ended her\ndiscourse, and the sultan arose from bed. And though this prince had\nnot resolved to defer the death of the sultaness, he could not, at\nthis time, have determined to take away her life; his curiosity was\nso great to hear out the story, which had so many unheard-of events.\n\n\n\n\nTHIRTY-SIXTH NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade awaked her sister as formerly, saying, Dear sister, I pray\nyou to continue the story of the ladies and the calenders. Upon\nwhich she resumed her discourse in the manner following:--\n\nWhen Zobeide and Safie ran to help their sister, one of the\ncalenders could not forbear to say, We had better have slept in the\nstreets than have come hither, had we thought to have seen such\nspectacles. The caliph, who heard this, came to him and the other\ncalenders, and asked them what might be the meaning of all this.\nThey answered, Sir, we know no more than you do. What! says the\ncaliph, are you not of the family? nor can you resolve us concerning\nthe two black bitches, and the lady that fainted away, and has been\nso basely abused? Sir, said the calenders, this is the first time\nthat ever we were in the house, and we came in but a few minutes\nbefore you.\n\nThis increased the caliph\u2019s astonishment. It may be, says, he,\nthis other man that is with you may know something of it. One of the\ncalenders made a sign for the porter to come near, and asked him\nwhether he knew why those two black bitches had been whipped, and\nwhy Amine\u2019s 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 was\nin the house until now; and if you are surprised to see me here, I\nam as much 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, supposed the\nporter had been one of the family, and hoped he could inform them of\nwhat they desired to know; but finding he could not, and resolving\nto satisfy his curiosity, cost what it would, he said to the rest,\nLook ye, we are here seven men, and have but three women to deal\nwith; let us try if we can oblige them to satisfy us, and if they\nrefuse it by fair means, we are in a condition to force them to it.\n\nThe grand vizier Giafar was against this method, and shewed the\ncaliph what might be the consequence of it; but, without discovering\nthe prince to the calenders, addressed him as if he had been a\nmerchant, thus: Sir, consider, I pray you, that our reputation lies\nat stake. You know very well upon what conditions these ladies were\nready to receive us, and we also agreed to them; what will they say\nof us if we break them? We shall be still more to blame, if any\nmischief befall us, for it is not likely that they would demand such\na promise of us, if they did not know themselves to be in a\ncondition to make us repent the breaking of it.\n\nHere the vizier took the caliph aside, and whispered to him thus:\nSir, the night will soon be at an end; and if your majesty will only\nbe pleased to have so much patience, I will take these ladies\nto-morrow morning, and bring them before your throne, where you may\nbe informed of all that you desire to know. Though this advice was\nvery judicious, the caliph rejected it, bade the vizier hold his\ntongue, and said he would not stay till then, but would have\nsatisfaction in the matter presently.\n\nThe next business was to know who should carry the message. The\ncaliph endeavoured to prevail with the calenders to speak first, but\nthey excused themselves; and at last they agreed that the porter\nshould be the man: and as they were consulting how to word this\nfatal question, Zobeide returned from her sister Amine, who was\nrecovered of her fit, drew near them, and, having overheard them\nspeaking pretty loud, and with some passion, said, Gentlemen, what\nis the subject of your discourse? what are you disputing about?\n\nThe porter answered immediately, Madam, these gentlemen pray you to\nlet them understand wherefore you wept over your two bitches after\nyou whipped them so severely, and how that lady\u2019s bosom, who\nlately fainted away, comes to be so full of scars? This is what I am\nordered to ask in their name.\n\nAt these words, Zobeide looked with a stern countenance; and,\nturning towards the caliph and the rest of the company, Is this\ntrue, gentlemen, said she, that you have given him order to ask me\nthis question? All of them, except the vizier Giafar, who spoke not\na word, answered, Yes. On which she told them, in a tone that\nsufficiently expressed her resentment, Before we granted you the\nfavour of being received into our house, and to prevent all occasion\nof trouble from you, because we are alone, we did it upon condition\nthat you should not speak of anything that did not concern you, lest\nyou might come to hear that which would not please you; and yet,\nafter having received and entertained you as well as we possibly\ncould, you make no scruple to break your promise. It is true that\nour easy temper has occasioned this, but that shall not excuse you,\nfor your proceedings are very unhandsome. As she spoke these words,\nshe gave three hard knocks with her foot, and clapping her hands as\noften together, cried, Come quick. Upon this, a door flew open, and\nseven strong, sturdy black slaves, with scimetars in their hands,\nrushed in; every one seized a man, threw him on the ground, and\ndragged him into the middle of the room, in order to cut off his\nhead.\n\nWe may easily conceive what a fright the caliph was in: he then\nrepented, but too late, that he had not taken his vizier\u2019s advice.\nIn the mean time, this unhappy prince, Giafar, Mesrour, the porter,\nand the calenders, were upon the point of losing their lives by\ntheir indiscreet curiosity. --But before they would strike the fatal\nblow, one of the slaves said to Zobeide and her sisters, High,\nmighty, and adorable mistresses, do you command us to cut their\nthroats? Stay, says Zobeide, I must examine them first. The\nfrightened porter interrupted her thus: In the name of heaven, do\nnot make me die for another man\u2019s crime! I am innocent --they are\nto blame. Alas! said he, crying, how pleasantly did we pass our\ntime! Those blind calenders are the cause of this misfortune; there\nis no town in the world but suffers wherever these inauspicious\nfellows come. Madam, I beg you not to destroy the innocent with the\nguilty, and consider, that it is more glorious to pardon such a\nwretch as I am, who have no way to help myself, than to sacrifice me\nto your resentment.\n\nZobeide, notwithstanding her anger, could not but laugh within\nherself at the porter\u2019s lamentation; but, without answering him,\nshe spoke a second time to the rest: Answer me, said she, and tell\nme who you are, otherwise you shall not live one moment longer. I\ncannot believe you to be honest men, nor persons of authority or\ndistinction in your own countries; for if you were, you would have\nbeen modest and more respectful to us.\n\nThe caliph, who was naturally impatient, was infinitely more\nimpatient than the rest, to find his life depend upon the command of\na lady justly incensed; but he began to conceive some hopes, when he\nsaw she would know who they were; for he imagined she would not take\naway his life, when once she came to be informed who he was;\n--therefore he spoke with a low voice to the vizier, who was near\nhim, to declare speedily who he was; but the vizier, being more\nprudent, resolved to save his master\u2019s honour, and not let the\nworld know the affront he had brought upon himself by his own\nweakness; and therefore answered, We have what we deserve.\n\nBut if he would have spoke in obedience to the caliph, Zobeide did\nnot give him time, for, having turned to the calenders, and seeing\nthem all three blind with one eye, she asked if they were brothers.\nOne of them answered, No, madam, no otherwise than as we are\ncalenders; that is to say, as we observe the same rules. --Were you\nborn blind of the right eye? replied she. No, madam, answered he; I\nlost my eye in such a surprising adventure, that it would be\ninstructive to every body were it in writing. After that misfortune,\nI shaved my beard and eyebrows, and took the habit or a calender,\nwhich I now wear.\n\nZobeide asked the other two calenders the same question, and had the\nsame answer; but he who spoke last added, Madam, to show you that we\nare no common fellows, and that you may have some consideration for\nus, be pleased to know, that we are all three sons of kings; and\nthough we never met together till this evening, yet we have had tune\nenough to make that known to one another; and I assure you, that the\nkings from whom we derive our being made some noise in the world.\n\nAt this discourse, Zobeide assuaged her anger, and said to the\nslaves, Give them their liberty awhile, but stay here. Those who\ntell us their history, and the occasion of their coming, do them no\nhurt, let them go where they please: but do not spare those who\nrefuse to give us that satisfaction. --Here Scheherazade stopped;\nand her silence, as well as day-light, giving the sultan to know\nthat it was time for him to rise, he got up, and resolved to hear\nthe rest of the story next night; for he was impatient to know who\nthese three one-eyed calenders were.\n\n\n\n\nTHIRTY-SEVENTH NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade, who also took a great deal of pleasure to hear the\nsultaness\u2019s stories, said to her, about the close of the following\nnight, Dear sister, if you be not asleep, I conjure you to go on\nwith the agreeable story of the three calenders.\n\nScheherazade asked leave of the sultan, and having obtained it, Sir,\nsaid she, the three calenders, the caliph, the grand vizier Giafar,\nthe eunuch Mesrour, and the porter, were all in the middle of the\nhall, seated upon a foot-carpet, in the presence of the three\nladies, who sat 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\nthere, called me this morning at the place where I plied as porter\nto see if any body would employ me, that I might get my bread. I\nfollowed her to a vintner\u2019s, then to an herb-shop, then to one\nthat sold oranges, lemons, and citrons, then to a grocer\u2019s, next\nto a confectioner\u2019s, and a druggist\u2019s, with my basket upon my\nhead as full as I was able to carry it: then I came hither, where\nyou had the goodness to suffer me to continue till now, a favour\nthat I shall never forget. This, madam, is my history.\n\nWhen the porter had done, Zobeide said to him, Go, march, let us see\nyou no more here. Madam, replied the porter, I beg you to let me\nstay: it would not be just, after the rest have had the pleasure to\nhear my history, that I should not also have the satisfaction to\nhear their\u2019s. And, having spoken thus, sat down at the end of the\nsofa, glad at heart to have escaped the danger that had frightened\nhim so much. After him, one of the three calenders, directing his\nspeech to Zobeide, as the principal of the three ladies, and the\nperson that commanded him to speak, began his story thus:--\n\n\n\n\nThe History of the First Calender, a King\u2019s Son.\n\n\nMadam, in order to inform you how I lost my right eye, and why I was\nobliged to put myself into a calender\u2019s habit, I must tell you,\nthat I am a king\u2019s son born: the king my father had a brother that\nreigned, as he did, over a neighbouring kingdom; and the prince his\nson and I were nearly of the same age.\n\nAfter I had learned my exercises, and the king 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, and\nthen returned again to my father\u2019s. These several journies\ncemented a firm and intimate friendship between the prince my cousin\nand myself. 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 be\nable to guess how I have been employed since your last departure\nfrom hence, now about a year past. I have had a great many men at\nwork to perfect a design I have in my mind: I have caused an edifice\nto be built, which is now finished so as to be habitable; you will\nnot be displeased if I show it you. But first you are to promise me,\nupon oath, that you will keep my secret, according to the confidence\nI 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 return\n--I will be with you in a moment; and accordingly he came with a\nlady in his hand, of singular beauty, and magnificently apparelled.\nHe did not intimate who she was, neither did I think it was polite\nin me to inquire. We sat down again with this lady at table, where\nwe continued some time, conversing upon indifferent subjects, and\nnow and then filling a glass to each other\u2019s health. After which\nthe prince said, Cousin, we must lose no time; therefore pray oblige\nme by taking this lady along with you, and conducting her to such a\nplace, where you will see a tomb newly built in form or a dome. You\nwill easily know it, the gate is open; go in there together, and\ntarry till I come, which will be very speedily.\n\nBeing true to my oath, I made no farther inquiry, but took the lady\nby the hand, and, by the directions which the prince my cousin had\ngiven me, I brought her to the place, by the light of the moon,\nwithout missing one step of the way. We were scarcely got thither,\nwhen we saw the prince following after, carrying a little pitcher\nwith water, a hatchet, and a little bag with plaster.\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, and\nlaid them in a corner. When all this was taken away, he digged up\nthe ground, where I saw a trap-door under the sepulchre, which he\nlifted up, and underneath perceived the head of a staircase leading\ninto a vault. Then my cousin, speaking to the lady, said, Madam, it\nis by this way that we are to go to the place I told you of. Upon\nwhich the lady drew nigh, 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. I cried, Dear cousin, what is the meaning of this? Be\ncontent, replied he; you may return back the same way you came.\n\nScheherazade having proceeded thus far, saw day appear, which\nprevented her proceeding any farther. The sultan got up, but longed\nvery much to know the design of the prince and his lady, who seemed\nas if they had a mind to bury themselves alive; and impatiently\nwaited for next night, that he might be thoroughly informed of it.\n\n\n\n\nTHIRTY-EIGHTH NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade awaked the sultaness next night as usual, and prayed her\nto continue the history of the first calender. Schahriar having also\nsignified to the sultaness, that it would be very pleasing to him,\nshe resumed the thread of her discourse as follows:\n\nMadam, said the calender to Zobeide, I could get nothing farther\nfrom him, but was obliged to take leave of him. As I returned to my\nuncle\u2019s palace, the vapours of the wine got up into my head;\nhowever, I got to my apartment, and went to bed. Next morning, when\nI awaked, I began to reflect upon what had happened the night\nbefore; and after recollecting all the circumstances of such a\nsingular adventure, I fancied it was nothing but a dream. Full of\nthese thoughts, I sent to see if the prince, my cousin, was ready to\nreceive a visit from me; but when they brought word back that he did\nnot lie in his own lodgings that night, they knew not what was\nbecome of him, and were in much trouble about it, I conceived that\nthe strange event of the tomb was but too true. I was sensibly\nafflicted at it; and stealing away privately from my people, I went\nto the public burying-place, where there was a vast number of tombs\nlike that which I had seen. I spent the day in viewing them one\nafter another, but could not find that I sought for, and thus I\nspent four days successively in vain.\n\nYou must know, that all this while the king my uncle was absent, and\nhad been hunting for several days; and I grew weary of staying for\nhim, and having prayed his ministers to make my apology to him at\nhis return, I left his palace, and set out towards my father\u2019s\ncourt, from which I had never been so long absent before. I left the\nministers of the king my uncle in great trouble, to think what was\nbecome of the prince my cousin: but because of the oath I had made\nto keep his secret, I durst not tell them of any thing that I had\nseen or knew, in order to make them easy.\n\nI arrived at my father\u2019s capital, the usual place of his\nresidence, where, contrary to custom, I found a great guard at the\ngate of the palace, who surrounded me as I entered. I asked the\nreason, and the commanding officer replied, Prince, the army has\nproclaimed the grand vizier king, instead of your father, who is\ndead, and I take you prisoner in the name of the new king. At these\nwords the guards laid hold of me, and carried me before the tyrant.\nI leave you to judge, madam, how much I was surprised and grieved.\n\nThis rebel vizier had long entertained a mortal hatred against me,\nfor this reason: when I was a stripling, I loved to shoot in a\ncross-bow; and being one day upon the terrace of the palace with my\nbow, a bird happening to come by, I shot, but missed him, and the\nball by misfortune hit the vizier, who was taking the air upon the\nterrace of his own house, and put out one of his eyes. As soon as I\nunderstood it, I not only sent to make my excuses to him, but did it\nin person: yet he always resented it, and, as opportunity offered,\nmade me sensible of it: but now, madam, that he had me in his power,\nhe expressed his resentment in a very barbarous manner; for he came\nto me like a madman, as soon as ever he saw me, and thrusting his\nfinger into my right eye, pulled it out himself; and so, madam, I\nbecame blind of one eye.\n\nBut the usurper\u2019s cruelty did not stop here; he ordered me to be\nshut up in a box, and commanded the executioner to carry me into the\ncountry, to cut off my head, and leave me to be devoured by the\nbirds of prey. The executioner and another man carried me thus shut\nup on horseback into the country, in order to execute the\nusurper\u2019s barbarous sentence; but by my prayers and tears, I moved\nthe executioner\u2019s compassion. Go, said he to me, get you speedily\nout of the kingdom, and take heed of ever returning to it, otherwise\nyou will certainly meet your own ruin, and be the cause of mine. I\nthanked him for the favour he did me; and as soon as I was left\nalone, I comforted myself for the loss of my eye, by considering\nthat I had very narrowly escaped much greater danger.\n\nBeing in such a condition, I could not travel far at a time: I\nretired to remote places while it was day, and travelled as far by\nnight as my strength would allow me. At last I arrived in the\ndominions of the king my uncle, and came to his capital.\n\nI gave him a long detail of the tragical cause of my return, and of\nthe sad condition he saw me in. Alas! cried he, was it not enough\nfor me to have lost my son, but must I have news also of the death\nof a brother I loved so dearly, and see you also reduced to this\ndeplorable condition? He told me how uneasy he was, that he could\nhear nothing of his son, notwithstanding all the diligence and\ninquiry he could make. At these words the unfortunate father burst\nout into tears, and was so much afflicted, that, pitying his grief,\nit was impossible for me to keep the secret any longer; so that,\nnotwithstanding my oath to the prince my cousin, I told the king his\nfather all that I knew.\n\nHis majesty listened to me with some sort of comfort; and when I had\ndone, Nephew, said he, what you tell me gives me some hope. I knew\nthat my son ordered that tomb to be built, and I can guess pretty\nnear at the place; and with the idea you still have of it, I fancy\nwe shall find it; but since he ordered it to be built privately, and\nyou took your oath to keep his secret, I am of opinion that we ought\nto go in quest of it alone, without saying any thing. But he had\nanother reason for keeping the matter secret, which he did not then\ntell me, and an important reason it was, as you will perceive by the\nsequel of my discourse.\n\nWe disguised ourselves, and went out by a door of the garden which\nopened into the field, and soon found what we sought for. I knew the\ntomb, and was the more rejoiced at it, because I had formerly sought\nit a long time in vain. We entered, and found the iron trap pulled\ndown upon the entrance of the staircase; we had much ado to raise\nit, because the prince had fastened it on the inside with the water\nand plaster formerly mentioned, but at last we did get it up.\n\nThe king my uncle descended first, I followed, and we went down\nabout fifty steps. When we came to the foot of the stairs, we found\na sort of ante-chamber, full of a thick smoke, of an ill scent,\nwhich obscured the lamp that gave a very faint light.\n\nFrom this ante-chamber we came into another, very large, supported\nby great columns, and lighted by several branched candlesticks.\nThere was a cistern in the middle, and provisions of several sorts\nstanding on one side of it; but we were very much surprised to see\nnobody. Before us there appeared an high sofa, which we mounted by\nseveral steps, and over this, there appeared a very large bed, with\nthe curtains drawn close. The king went up, and opening the\ncurtains, perceived the prince his son and the lady in bed together,\nbut burnt and changed to a coal, as if they had been thrown into a\ngreat fire, and taken out again before they were consumed.\n\nBut what surprised me most of all was, that though this spectacle\nfilled me with horror, the king my uncle, instead of testifying his\nsorrow to see the prince his son in such a frightful condition, spit\non his face, and said to him with a disdainful air, \u2018This is the\npunishment of this world, but that of the other will last to\neternity;\u2019 and not content with this, he pulled off his sandal,\nand gave his son a great blow on the cheek with it.\n\nBut, sir, said Scheherazade, it is day. I am sorry your majesty\u2019s\ntime will not allow you to hear me farther. This story appearing\nvery strange to the sultan, he got up resolved to hear the rest of\nit next night.\n\n\n\n\nTHIRTY-NINTH NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade being awake sooner than ordinary, called her sister\nScheherazade. My good sultaness, said she, I pray you make an end of\nyour story of the first calender, for I am ready to die with\nimpatience till I know the issue of it. Well then, said\nScheherazade, you remember how the first calender continued his\nstory to Zobeide: I cannot enough express, madam, said he, how much\nI was astonished when I saw the king my uncle abuse the prince his\nson thus after he was dead. Sir, said I, whatever grief this dismal\nsight is capable to impress upon me, I am forced to suspend it, on\npurpose to ask your majesty what crime the prince my cousin may have\ncommitted, that his corpse should deserve this sort of treatment?\n--Nephew, replied the king, I must tell you, that my son (who is\nunworthy of that name) loved his sister from his infancy, as she did\nhim; I did not hinder their growing love, because I did not foresee\nthe pernicious consequence of it. This tenderness increased as they\ngrew in years 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 gave my\nson a severe reprimand in private, laying before him the horrible\nnature of the passion he entertained, and the eternal disgrace he\nwould bring upon my family, if he persisted in such criminal\ncourses, but I also represented the same to my daughter; and I shut\nher up so close that she could have no conversation with her\nbrother. But that unfortunate creature had swallowed so much of the\npoison, that all the obstacles which by my prudence I could lay in\nthe way served only to inflame her love.\n\nMy son, being persuaded of his sister\u2019s constancy, on pretence of\nbuilding a tomb, caused this subterraneous habitation to be made, in\nhopes to find one day or other an opportunity to possess himself of\nthat object which was the cause of his flame, and to bring her\nhither. He took advantage of my absence to enter by force into the\nplace of his sister\u2019s confinement; but this was a circumstance\nwhich my honour would not suffer me to make public: and after so\ndamnable an action, he came and shut himself up with her in this\nplace, which he has supplied, as you see, with all sorts of\nprovisions, that he might enjoy his detestable pleasures for a long\ntime, which ought to be a subject of horror to all the world; but\nGod, who would not suffer such an abomination, has justly punished\nthem both. At these words, he melted into tears, and I joined mine\nwith 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 haply find\nin you what will better supply his place. The reflections he made on\nthe doleful end of the prince and princess his daughter, made us\nboth fall into a new fit of weeping.\n\nWe went up the same stairs again, and departed at last from that\ndismal place. We let down again the trap-door, and covered it with\nearth, and such other materials as the tomb was built of, on purpose\nto hide, as much as lay in our power, so terrible an effect of the\nwrath of God.\n\nWe had not been very long got back 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 dust,\nwhich 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 throne, who, with a vast number\nof troops, was also come to possess himself of that of the king my\nuncle.\n\nThat prince, who then had only his usual guards about him, could not\nresist so many enemies; they invested the city, and the gates being\nopened to them without any resistance, they very soon became masters\nof the city, and broke into the palace where the king my uncle was,\nwho defended himself till he was killed, and sold his life at a dear\nrate: for my part, I fought as well as I could for a while; but\nseeing we were forced to submit to a superior power, I thought on my\nretreat and safety, which I had the good fortune to effect by some\nback ways, and got to one of the king\u2019s servants, on whose\nfidelity I could depend.\n\nBeing thus surrounded with sorrows, and persecuted by fortune, I had\nrecourse to a stratagem, which was the only means left me to save my\nlife; I caused my beard and eyebrows to be shaved, and putting on a\ncalender\u2019s habit, I passed, unknown by any, out of the city; after\nthat, by degrees, I found it easy to get out of my uncle\u2019s\nkingdom, by taking the by-roads.\n\nI avoided passing through towns, until I was got into the empire of\nthe mighty governor of the mussulmen, the glorious and renowned\nCaliph Haroun Alraschid, when I thought myself out of danger; and\nconsidering what I was to do, I resolved to come to Bagdad,\nintending to throw myself at the feet of that monarch, whose\ngenerosity is every where applauded. I shall move him to compassion,\nsaid I to myself, by the relation of my extraordinary misfortunes,\nand without doubt he will take pity on such an unfortunate prince,\nand not suffer me to implore his assistance in vain.\n\nIn short, after a journey of several months, I arrived yesterday at\nthe gate of this city, into which I entered about the dusk of the\nevening; and stopping a little while to revive my spirits, and to\nconsider which way I was to turn, this other calender you see here\nnext to me came up: he saluted me, and I him. --You appear, said I,\nto be a stranger, as I am. --You are not mistaken, replied he. He\nhad no sooner returned this answer, but that third calender you see\nthere overtook us. He saluted us, and told us he was a stranger\nnewly come to Bagdad; so as brethren we joined together, resolving\nnot to separate from one another.\n\nMeanwhile it was late, and we knew not where to seek a lodging in\nthe city, where we had no acquaintance, and had never been before.\nBut good fortune having brought us before your gate, we made bold to\nknock, when you received us with so much kindness, that we are\nincapable to return you suitable thanks. This, madam, said he, is in\nobedience to your commands, the account I was to give you why I lost\nmy right eye, wherefore my beard and eyebrows are shaved, and how I\ncame to be with you at this present time.\n\nIt is enough, said Zobeide; you may retire to what place you think\nfit. The calender made his excuse, and begged the ladies\u2019 leave to\nstay till he had heard the relations of his two comrades, whom I\ncannot, said he, leave with honour; and till he might also hear\nthose of the three other persons that were in company.\n\nHere Scheherazade said to the sultan, Sir, the daylight which you\nsee prevents me from going on with the story of the second calender;\nbut if your majesty will hear it to-morrow, you will find as much\nsatisfaction in that as in the story of the first. To which the\nsultan gave consent, and so got up, in order to go to council.\n\n\n\n\nFORTIETH NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade, not doubting to find as much delight in the story of the\nsecond calender as she had in the first, failed not to call upon the\nsultaness before day. If you be not asleep, sister, said she, I\nwould pray you to begin the story that you promised me; upon which\nScheherazade addressed her discourse to the sultan, and spoke as\nfollows:\n\nSir, the story of the first calender seemed very strange to the\nwhole company, but especially to the caliph; who, notwithstanding\nthe slaves stood by with their scimeters in their hands, could not\nforbear whispering to the vizier --Many stories have I heard, but\nnever any thing that came near the story of the calender. Whilst he\nwas saying this, the second calender began, addressing his speech to\nZobeide.\n\n\n\n\nStory of the Second Calender, a King\u2019s Son.\n\n\nMadam, said he, to obey your command, and to show you by what\nstrange accident I became blind of the right eye, I must of\nnecessity give you the whole account of my life.\n\nI was scarce past my infancy, when the king my father (for you must\nknow, madam, I am a prince by birth) perceived that I was endowed\nwith a great deal of sense, and spared nothing that was proper for\nimproving it: he employed all the men in his dominions that excelled\nin science and art, to be constantly about me.\n\nNo sooner was I able to read and write, but I learnt the Alcoran\nfrom the beginning to the 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 authors, by whose commentaries it had\nbeen explained. I added to this study that of all the traditions\ncollected from the mouth of our prophet, by the great men that were\ncontemporary with him. I was not satisfied with the knowledge of all\nthat had any relation to our religion, but made also a particular\nsearch into our histories. I made myself perfect in polite learning,\nin the works of poets, and versification. I applied myself to\ngeography, chronology, and to speak our Arabian language in its\npurity; not forgetting in the mean time all such exercises as were\nproper for a prince to understand. But one thing which I was fond\nof, and succeeded in to admiration, was, to form the characters of\nour Arabian language, wherein I surpassed all the writing masters of\nour kingdom that had acquired the greatest reputation.\n\nFame did me more honour than I deserved, for she not only spread the\nrenown of my talents through all the dominions of the king my\nfather, but carried it as far as the Indian court, whose potent\nmonarch, desirous to see me, sent an ambassador with rich presents,\nto demand me of my father, who was extremely glad of this embassy\nfor several reasons; he was persuaded that nothing could be more\ncommendable in a prince of my age, than to travel and visit foreign\ncourts; and he was very glad to gain the friendship of the Indian\nsultan. I departed with the ambassador, but with no great retinue,\nbecause of the length and difficulty of the journey.\n\nWhen we had travelled about a month, we discovered at a distance a\ngreat cloud of dust, and under that we saw very soon fifty horsemen,\nwell armed, that were robbers, coming towards us on full gallop.\nScheherazade perceiving day, told the sultan of it, who got up; but\ndesiring to know what passed between the fifty men on horseback and\nthe Indian ambassador, this prince was somewhat impatient till next\nnight came.\n\n\n\n\nFORTY-FIRST NIGHT.\n\n\nIt was almost day when Dinarzade awoke next morning, and called to\nher sister, If you be not asleep, dear sister, I pray you continue\nthe story of the second calender. Scheherazade began in this manner:\n\nMadam, said the calender, (always speaking to Zobeide,) as we had\nten horses laden with baggage and other presents, that I was to\ncarry to the Indian sultan from the king my father, and my retinue\nwas but small, you may easily judge that these robbers came boldly\nup to us; and not being in a posture to make any opposition, we told\nthem, that we were ambassadors belonging to the sultan of the\nIndies, and hoped they would attempt nothing contrary to that\nrespect that is due to them, thinking by this means to save our\nequipage and our lives: but the robbers most insolently replied, For\nwhat reason would you have us show any respect to the sultan your\nmaster? We are none of his subjects, nor are we upon his\nterritories. Having spoken thus, they surrounded and fell upon us: I\ndefended myself as long as I could; but finding myself wounded, and\nseeing the ambassador, with his servants and mine, lying on the\nground, I made use of what strength was yet remaining in my horse,\nwho was also very much wounded, and separated myself from the crowd,\nand rode away as fast as he could carry me; but he happening all of\na sudden to fall under me, by weariness and the loss of blood, he\nfell down dead. I got rid of him in a trice; and finding that I was\nnot pursued, it made me judge the robbers were not willing to quit\nthe booty they had got.\n\nScheherazade, perceiving day coming on, was obliged to stop here. O\nsister, said Dinarzade, to-morrow I shall be more diligent, in hopes\nyou will make reparation to the sultan for the loss that his\ncuriosity has sustained through my neglect. Schahriar arose without\nsaying one word, and went to his usual consultation.\n\n\n\nFORTY-SECOND NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade failed not to call the sultaness a good while before day.\nMy dear sister, said she, if you be not asleep, I pray you resume\nthe story of the calender. I consent to it, said Scheherazade; and\nso continued it in these words:\n\nHere you see me, said the calender, alone, wounded, destitute of\nhelp, and in a strange country: I durst not betake myself to the\nhigh road, fearing I might fall again into the hands of these\nrobbers. When I had bound up my wound, which was not dangerous, I\nwalked on the rest of the day, and arrived at the foot of a\nmountain, where I perceived a passage into a cave; I went in, and\nstaid there that night with little satisfaction, after I had eaten\nsome fruits that I gathered by the way.\n\nI continued my journey for several days following, without finding\nany place of abode; but after a month\u2019s time, I came to a large\ntown, well inhabited, and situated so much the more advantageously,\nas it was surrounded with several rivers, so that it enjoyed\nperpetual spring.\n\nThe pleasant objects which then presented themselves to my view\nafforded me some joy, and suspended for a time the sorrow with which\nI was overwhelmed to find myself in such a condition. My face,\nhands, and feet, were black and sun-burnt; and, by my long journey,\nmy shoes and stockings were quite worn out, so that I was forced to\nwalk bare-footed; and besides, my clothes were all in rags. I\nentered into the town to inform myself where I was, and addressed\nmyself to a tailor that was at work in his shop; who, perceiving by\nmy air that I was a person of more note than my outward appearance\nbespoke me to be, made me sit down by him, and asked me who I was,\nfrom whence I came, and what had brought me thither? I did not\nconceal any thing of all that had befallen me, nor made I any\nscruple to discover my quality.\n\nThe tailor listened with attention to my words; but after I had done\nspeaking, instead of giving me any consolation, he augmented my\nsorrow. Take heed, said he, how you discover to any person what you\nhave now declared to me; for the prince of this country is the\ngreatest enemy that the king your father has, and he will certainly\ndo you some mischief, when he comes to hear of your being in this\ncity. I made no doubt of the tailor\u2019s sincerity, when he named the\nprince: but since the enmity which is between my father and him has\nno relation to my adventures, I must beg your pardon, madam, if I\npass it over with silence.\n\nI returned the tailor thanks for his good advice, and showed myself\ninclinable wholly to follow his counsel, and assured him that his\nfavours should never be forgotten by me. And as he believed I could\nnot but be hungry, he ordered something to be brought for me to eat,\nand offered me at the same time a lodging in his house, which I\naccepted. Some days after, finding me pretty well recovered of the\nfatigue I had endured by a long and tedious journey, and reflecting\nthat most princes of our religion did apply themselves to some art\nor calling that might be serviceable to them upon occasion, he asked\nme if I had learned any thing whereby I might get a livelihood, and\nnot be burdensome to any man? I told him that I understood the laws,\nboth divine and human; that I was a grammarian and poet; and above\nall, that I understood writing perfectly well. By all this, said he,\nyou will not be able in this country to purchase yourself one morsel\nof bread: nothing is of less use here than those sciences; but if\nyou will be advised by me, said he, dress yourself in a labourer\u2019s\nhabit; and since you appear to be strong, and of a good\nconstitution, you shall go into the next forest, and cut fire wood,\nwhich you may bring to the market to be sold: and I can assure you\nit will turn to so good an account that you may live by it, without\ndependance upon any man; and by this means you will be in a\ncondition to wait for the favourable minute, when Heaven shall think\nfit to dispel those clouds of misfortune that thwart your happiness,\nand oblige you to conceal your birth: I will take care to supply you\nwith a rope and a hatchet.\n\nThe fear of being known, and the necessity I was under of getting a\nlivelihood, made me agree to this proposal, notwithstanding all the\nmeanness and hardships that attended it. The day following the\ntailor bought me a rope, a hatchet, and a short coat, and\nrecommended me to some poor people who gained their bread after the\nsame 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 brought me half a piece of gold, which is the money\nof that country: for though the wood is not far distant from the\ntown, yet it was very scarce there, by reason that few or none would\nbe at the trouble to go and cut it. I gained a good sum of money in\na short time, and repaid my tailor what he had advanced for me.\n\nI continued this way of living for a whole year; and one day, that\nby chance I was gone farther into the wood than usual, I happened to\nlight on a very pleasant place, where I began to cut down wood; and\nin pulling up the root of a tree, I espied an iron ring, fastened to\na trap-door of the same metal. I took away the earth that covered\nit, and having lifted it up, saw stairs, which I went down, with my\naxe in my band.\n\nWhen I was come to the bottom of the stairs, I found myself in a\nlarge palace, which put me into great consternation, because of a\ngreat light, which appeared as clear in it as if it had been above\nground, in the open air. I went forward along a gallery, supported\nby pillars of jasper, the base and capitals of massy gold; but\nseeing a lady of a noble and free air, and extremely beautiful,\ncoming towards me, my eyes were taken off from beholding any other\nobject but her alone.\n\nHere Scheherazade stopped, because day appeared: but Dinarzade said,\nDear sister, I confess I am extremely well pleased with what you\nhave told us to-day, and I imagine that the following part must be\nno less surprising. --You are not mistaken, said the sultaness, for\nthe remainder of this story of the second calender is better worth\nmy ford the sultan\u2019s attention, than all that he has hitherto\nheard. --I doubt that, said Schahriar, as he was getting up; but we\nshall know that to-morrow.\n\n\n\n\nFORTY-THIRD NIGHT.\n\n\nThe sultaness being awakened as usual, gave the sultan an account\nthat the second calender continued his story thus: Being desirous,\nsaid he, to spare the lady the trouble to come to me, I made haste\nto meet her: and as I was saluting her with a low bow, she asked me,\nWhat are you, a man or a genie? --A man, madam, said I: I have no\ncorrespondence with genies. --By what adventure, said she, fetching\na deep sigh, are you come hither? I have lived here these\ntwenty-five years, and never saw any man but yourself during that\ntime.\n\nHer great beauty, which had already smitten me, and the sweetness\nand civility wherewith she received me, emboldened me to say to her,\nMadam, before I have the honour to satisfy your curiosity, give me\nleave to tell you, that I am infinitely satisfied 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 to make you also more happy than you are. I gave her a\ntrue account by what strange accident she saw me, the son of a king,\nin such a condition as then I appeared in her presence; and how\nfortune directed that I should discover the entrance into that\nmagnificent prison where I had found her, but, according to\nappearance, in an unpleasant situation.\n\nAlas! prince, said she, sighing once more, you have just cause to\nbelieve this rich and pompous prison cannot be otherwise than a most\nwearisome abode; the most charming place in the world being no way\ndelightful when we are detained there contrary to our will. It is\nnot possible but you have heard of the great Epitimarus, king of the\nisle of Ebene, so called from that precious wood it produces in\nabundance; I am the princess his daughter.\n\nThe king, my father, had chosen for me a husband, a prince that was\nmy cousin: but, on my wedding-night, in the midst of the rejoicing\nthat was in the court and the capital city of the kingdom of the\nisle of Ebene, before I was given to my husband, a genie took me\naway. I fainted at the same moment, and lost my senses; but when I\ncame to myself again, I found myself in this place. I was a long\ntime inconsolable, but time and necessity have accustomed me to see\nand receive the genie. Twenty-five years, as I told you before, I\nhave continued in this place; where, I must confess, I have every\nthing that I can wish for necessary to life, and also every thing\nthat can satisfy a princess fond of dress and fashions.\n\nEvery ten days, said the princess, the genie comes hither to lie\nwith me one night, which he never exceeds; and the excuse he makes\nfor it is, that he is married to another wife, who would grow\njealous if she came to know how unfaithful he was to her. Meanwhile,\nif I have occasion for him by day or night, as soon as I touch a\ntalisman, which is at the entrance into my chamber, the genie\nappears. It is now the fourth day since he was here, and I do not\nexpect him before the end of six more: so, if you please, you may\nstay five days and keep me company, and I will endeavour to\nentertain you according to your quality and merit. I thought myself\ntoo fortunate, to have obtained so great a favour without asking it,\nto refuse so obliging a proffer. The princess made me go into a\nbagnio, which was the most handsome, the most commodious, and the\nmost sumptuous that could be imagined; and when I came forth,\ninstead of my own clothes, I found another very costly suit, which I\ndid not esteem so much for its richness, as because it made me look\nworthy to be in her company. We sat down on a sofa covered with rich\ntapestry, with cushions to lean upon of the rarest Indian brocade;\nand some time after she covered a table with several dishes of\ndelicate meats. We ate together, and passed the remaining part of\nthe day with much satisfaction; and at night she received me to her\nbed.\n\nThe next day, as she contrived every means to please me, she brought\nin, at dinner, a bottle of old wine, the most excellent that ever\nwas tasted; and out of complaisance, she drank some part of it with\nme. When my head grew hot with the agreeable liquor, Fair princess,\nsaid I, you have been too long thus buried alive: follow me, and\nenjoy the real day, from which you have been deprived so many years,\nand abandon this false light that you have here. --Prince, replied\nshe, with a smile, leave this discourse; if you out of ten days will\ngrant me nine, and resign the last to the genie, the fairest day\nthat ever was would be nothing in my esteem. --Princess, said I, it\nis the fear of the genie that makes you speak thus; for my part, I\nvalue him so little, that I will break in pieces his talisman, with\nthe conjuration that is written about it. Let him come, I will\nexpect him; and how brave or redoubtable soever he be, I will make\nhim feel the weight of my arm: I swear solemnly that I will\nextirpate all the genies in the world, and him first. The princess,\nwho knew the consequence, conjured me not to touch the talisman; for\nthat would be a means, said she, to rum both you and me: I know what\nbelongs to genies better than you. The fumes of the wine did not\nsuffer me to hearken to her reasons; but I gave the talisman a kick\nwith my foot, and broke it in several pieces.\n\nAt these words Scheherazade perceiving day, grew silent, and the\nsultan got up, not doubting but the breaking of the talisman had\nsome remarkable event, and therefore resolved to hear that story to\nthe end.\n\n\n\n\nFORTY-FOURTH NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade being awaked somewhat before day, said to the sultaness,\nSister, if you are not asleep, I pray you acquaint us with what\nhappened in the subterranean palace after the prince had broken the\ntalisman. --I am just going to relate it, said Scheherazade. Upon\nwhich, resuming her narrative, she continued her discourse thus, in\nthe person of the second calender.\n\nThe talisman was no sooner broken, but the palace began to shake,\nand was ready to fall, with a hideous noise like thunder,\naccompanied with flashes of lightning, and a great darkness. This\nterrible noise in a moment dispelled the fumes of my wine, and made\nme sensible, but too late, of the folly I had committed. Princess,\ncried I, what means all this? She answered in a fright, and without\nany concern for her own misfortune, Alas! you are undone, if you do\nnot escape presently.\n\nI followed her advice, and my fears were so great, that I forgot my\nhatchet and cords. I was scarcely got to the stairs by which I came\ndown, when the enchanted palace opened at once, and made a passage\nfor the genie; he asked the princess, in great anger, What has\nhappened to you, and why did you call me? --A qualm at my stomach,\nsaid the princess, made me fetch this bottle which you see here, out\nof which I drank twice or thrice, and by mischance made a false\nstep, and fell upon the talisman, which is broken, and that is all.\n\nAt this answer, the furious genie told her, You are a false woman,\nand a liar: how came that axe and those cords there? --I never saw\nthem till this moment, said the princess. Your coming in such an\nimpetuous manner has, it may be, forced them up in some place, as\nyou came along, and so brought them hither 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 endure\nto hear the pitiful cries and shouts of the princess, so cruelly\nabused: I had already laid off the suit she made me put on, and\ntaken my own, which I had laid on the stairs the day before, when I\ncame out of the bagnio: I made haste up stairs, more distracted with\nsorrow and compassion, as I had been the cause of so great a\nmisfortune; and by sacrificing the fairest princess on earth to the\nbarbarity of a merciless genie, I was become the most criminal and\nungrateful of mankind. It is true, said I, she has been a prisoner\nthese twenty-five years; but, liberty excepted, she wanted nothing\nthat could make her happy. My folly has put an end to her happiness,\nand brought upon her the cruelty of an unmerciful devil: I let down\nthe trap-door, covered it again with earth, and returned to the city\nwith a burden of wood, which I bound up without knowing what I did,\nso great was my trouble and sorrow.\n\nMy landlord, the tailor, was very much rejoiced to see me: Your\nabsence, said he, has disquieted me very much, by reason you had\nentrusted me with the secret of your birth, and I knew not what to\nthink; I was afraid somebody had discovered you: God be thanked for\nyour return. I thanked him for his zeal and affection, but not a\nword durst I say of what had passed, nor the reason why I came back\nwithout my hatchet and cords.\n\nI retired to my chamber, where I reproached myself a thousand times,\nfor my excessive imprudence: Nothing, said I, could have paralleled\nthe princess\u2019s good fortune and mine, had I forborne to break the\ntalisman.\n\nWhile I was thus giving myself over to melancholy thoughts, the\ntailor came in. An old man, said he, whom I do not know, brings me\nhere your hatchet and cords, which he found in his way, as he tells\nme, and understood by your comrades that go along with you to the\nwoods, that you lodge here; come out and speak to him, for he will\ndeliver them to none but yourself.\n\nAt this discourse I changed colour, and fell a trembling. While the\ntailor was asking me the reason, my chamber door opened at once, and\nthe old man, having no patience to stay, appeared to us with my\nhatchet and cords. This man was the genie, the ravisher of the fair\nprincess of the isle of Ebene, who had thus disguised himself, after\nhe had treated her with the utmost barbarity. I am a genie, said he,\nson of the daughter of Eblis, prince of genies: is not this your\nhatchet? said he, speaking to me, and are not these your cords?\n\nHere Scheherazade saw day, and left off. The sultan found the story\nof the second calender too curious not to desire that he might hear\nit out; and therefore got up, with an intention to hear the rest\nnext morning.\n\n\n\n\nFORTY-FIFTH NIGHT.\n\n\nThe day following, Dinarzade called upon the sultaness, My dear\nsister, pray tell us how the genie treated the prince. --I wish to\nsatisfy your curiosity, replied Scheherazade; and then resumed her\nstory of the second calender thus:\n\nThe calender continuing his discourse to Zobeide, Madam, said he,\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 with\nsuch swiftness, that I perceived I was got so high without being\nable to take notice of the way he carried me in so few moments. He\ndescended again in like manner to the earth, which on a sudden he\ncaused to open with a stroke of his foot, and so sunk down at once,\nwhere I found myself in the enchanted palace, before the fair\nprincess of the isle of Ebene. But alas! what a spectacle was there!\nI saw what pierced me to the heart; this poor princess was quite\nnaked, weltering in her blood, and laid upon the ground, more like\none dead than alive, with her cheeks bathed in tears.\n\nPerfidious wretch, said the genie to her, pointing at me, is not\nthis your gallant? She cast her languishing eyes upon me, and\nanswered mournfully, I do not know him; I never saw him till this\nmoment. --What! said the genie, he is the cause of thy being in the\ncondition thou art justly in; and yet darest thou say thou dost not\nknow him? --If I do not know him, said the princess, would you have\nme make a lie on purpose to ruin him? --Oh then, said the genie,\npulling out a scimitar, and presenting it to the princess, if you\nnever saw him before, take the scimitar and cut off his head.\n--Alas! replied the princess, how is it possible that I should\nexecute what you would force me to do? My strength is so far spent\nthat I cannot lift up my arm; and if I could, how should I have the\nheart to take away the life of an innocent man, and one whom I do\nnot know? --This refusal, said the genie to the princess,\nsufficiently informs me of your crime. Upon which, turning to me,\nAnd 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 shown myself as faithful to\nthe princess as she was to me, who had been the cause of her\nmisfortunes; therefore I answered the genie, How should I know her,\nwhen I never saw her till now? --If it be so, said he, take the\nscimitar, and cut off her head: on this condition I will set thee at\nliberty, for then I shall be convinced that thou didst never see her\ntill this very moment, as thou sayest. --With all my heart, replied\nI, and took the scimitar in my hand.\n\nBut sir, said Scheherazade, it is day, and I ought not to abuse your\nmajesty\u2019s patience. --These are wonderful events, said the sultan\nto himself. We shall know tomorrow if the prince was so cruel as to\npay obedience to the genie\u2019s command.\n\n\n\n\nFORTY-SIXTH NIGHT.\n\n\nWhen the night was near at an end, Dinarzade said to the sultaness,\nSister, if you be not asleep, I would pray you to continue the story\nwhich you could not finish yesterday. --I will, says Scheherazade,\nand without loss of time you shall understand that the second\ncalender went on thus:\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\u2019s barbarity. I\ndid it only to demonstrate by my behaviour, as much as possible,\nthat as she had shown her resolution to sacrifice her life for my\nsake, I would not refuse to sacrifice mine for her\u2019s. 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 satisfied\nto see how willing I was also to die for her. --Upon this, I stepped\nback and threw the scimitar on the ground. I shall forever, said I\nto the genie, be hateful to all mankind, should I be so base as to\nmurder, I do not only say a person whom I do not know, but a lady\nlike this, who is ready to give up the ghost: do with me what you\nplease, since I am in your power: I cannot obey your barbarous\ncommands.\n\nI see, said the genie, that you both outbrave me, and insult my\njealousy; but both of you shall know, by the treatment I give you,\nwhat I am capable to do. At these words the monster took up the\nscimitar, and cut off one of her hands, which left her only so much\nof life as to give me a token with the other that she bid me adieu\nfor ever: for the blood she had lost before, and that which gushed\nout then, did not permit her to live above one or two moments after\nthis barbarous cruelty, the sight of which threw me into a fit. When\nI was come to myself again, I expostulated with the genie, why he\nmade me languish in expectation of death; Strike, cried I, for I am\nready to receive the mortal blow, and expect it as the greatest\nfavour you can show me. But instead of agreeing to that, Look ye,\nsaid he, how genies treat their wives whom they suspect of\nunfaithfulness: she has received thee here; and were I certain that\nshe had put any further affront upon me, I would put thee to death\nthis minute: but I will content myself to transform thee into a dog,\nape, lion, or bird; take thy choice of any of these, I will leave it\nto thyself.\n\nThese words gave me some hopes to mollify him: O genie, said I,\nmoderate your passion, and since you will not take away my life,\ngive it me generously: I shall always remember your clemency, if you\npardon me, as one of the best men in the world pardoned one of his\nneighbours that bore him a mortal hatred. The genie asked me what\nhad passed between those two neighbours and said he would have\npatience till he heard the story, which I told him thus; and I\nbelieve, madam, you will not take it ill if I also relate it to you.\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of the envious Man, and of him that he envied.\n\n\nIn a considerable town, two persons dwelt next door to one another:\none of them conceived such a violent hatred against the other, that\nhe who was hated resolved to remove his dwelling farther off, being\npersuaded that their being neighbours was the only cause of his\nanimosity; for though he had done him several pieces of service, he\nfound, nevertheless, that his hatred was nothing diminished;\ntherefore he sold his house, with what goods he had left, and\nretired to the capital city of that kingdom, which was not far\ndistant. He bought a little spot of ground, which lay about half a\nleague from the city; he had a house convenient enough, with a fine\ngarden, and a pretty spacious court, wherein there was a deep well,\nwhich was not in use.\n\nThe honest man having made this purchase, put on a dervise\u2019s or\nmonk\u2019s habit, to lead a retired life, and caused several cells to\nbe made in the house, where in a short time he established a\nnumerous society of dervises. He soon came to be publicly known by\nhis virtue, through which he acquired the esteem of many people, as\nwell of the commonalty as of the chief of the city: in short, he was\nextremely honoured and cherished by every one. People came from afar\nto recommend themselves to his prayers; and all who came to live\nwith him published what blessings they received through his means.\n\nThe great reputation of this honest man having spread to the town\nfrom whence he came, it touched the envious man so much to the\nquick, that he left his house and affairs with a resolution to go\nand ruin him. With this intent he went to the new convent of\ndervises, of which his former neighbour was the head, who received\nhim with all imaginable tokens of friendship. The envious man told\nhim that he was come on purpose to communicate a business of\nimportance to him, which he could not do but in private; and that\nnobody may hear us, let us, said he, take a walk in your court; and\nseeing night begins to draw on, command your dervises to retire to\ntheir cells. The head of the dervises did as he required.\n\nWhen the envious man saw that he was alone with this good man, he\nbegan to tell his errand, walking side by side in the court, till he\nsaw his opportunity; and getting the good man near the brink of the\nwell, he gave him a thrust, and pushed him into it, without any body\nbeing witness to so wicked an action. Having done thus, he marched\noff immediately, got out at the gate of the convent without being\nknown to any one, and went home to his own house, well satisfied\nwith his journey, being fully persuaded that the object of his\nhatred was no more in this world; but he found himself highly\nmistaken.\n\nScheherazade could go no farther, because day began to appear. The\nsultan conceived great indignation against the envious man, and said\nto himself, I heartily wish that no hurt may have come to this\nhonest man: I hope to hear to-morrow that Heaven did not forsake him\non this occasion.\n\n\n\n\nFORTY-SEVENTH NIGHT.\n\n\nIf you be not asleep, sister, said Dinarzade, next morning, I\nconjure you to tell us if the honest dervise came safe and sound out\nof the well. --Yes, replied Scheherazade, and the second calender\npursued his story thus: This old well, said he, was inhabited by\nfairies and genies, which happened luckily for the relief of the\nhead of the convent: for they received and supported him, and\ncarried him to the bottom, so that he got no hurt. He perceived well\nenough that there was something extraordinary in his fall, which\nmust otherwise have cost him his life; whereas he neither saw nor\nfelt any thing. But he soon heard a voice, which said, Do you know\nwhat honest man this is, to whom we have done this piece of service?\nAnother voice answered, No. To which the first replied, Then I will\ntell you. This man, out of charity, the greatest that ever was\nknown, left the town he lived in, and has established himself in\nthis place, in hopes to cure one of his neighbours of the envy he\nhad conceived against him; he had acquired such a general esteem,\nthat the envious man, not able to endure it, came hither on purpose\nto ruin him, which he had performed, had it not been for the\nassistance which we have given this honest man, whose reputation is\nso great, that the sultan, who keeps his residence in the\nneighbouring city, was to pay him a visit tomorrow, to recommend the\nprincess his daughter to his prayers.\n\nAnother voice asked, What need had the princess of the dervise\u2019s\nprayers? To which the first answered, You do not know, it seems,\nthat she is possessed by genie Maimoun, the son of Dimdim, who is\nfallen in love with her. But I know well how this good head of the\ndervises may cure her; the thing is very easy, and I will tell it\nyou. He has a black cat in his convent, with a white spot at the end\nof her tail, about the bigness of a small piece of Arabian money;\nlet him only pull seven hairs out of the white spot, burn them, and\nsmoke the princess\u2019s head with the fume, she will not only be\npresently cured, but be so safely delivered from Maimoun, the son of\nDimdim, that he will never dare to come near her a second time.\n\nThe head of the dervises remembered every word of the discourse\nbetween the fairies and the genies, who were very silent all the\nnight after. The next morning by break of day, when he could discern\none thing from another, the well being broken down in several\nplaces, he saw a hole, by which he crept out with ease.\n\nThe other dervises, who had been seeking for him, were rejoiced to\nsee him: he gave them a brief account of the wickedness of that man\nto whom he had given so kind a reception the day before, and retired\ninto his cell. It was not long till the black cat, of whom the\nfairies and the genies had made mention in their discourses the\nnight before, came to fawn upon her master, as she was accustomed to\ndo: he took her up, and pulled out seven hairs of the white spot\nthat was upon her tail, and laid them aside for his use when\noccasion should serve.\n\nThe sun was not high, when the sultan, who would leave no means\nuntried that he thought could restore the princess to perfect\nhealth, arrived at the gate of the convent. He commanded his guards\nto halt, whilst he with his principal officers went in. The dervises\nreceived him with profound respect.\n\nThe sultan called their head aside, and said, Good sheich, it may be\nyou know already the cause of my coming hither. --Yes, sir, replied\nhe very gravely, if I do not mistake, it is the disease of the\nprincess which procures me this unmerited honour.\n\nThat is the very thing, replied the sultan. You will give me new\nlife, if your prayers, as I hope they will, can procure my\ndaughter\u2019s health. --Sir, said the good man, if your majesty will\nbe pleased to let her come hither, I am in hopes, through God\u2019s\nassistance and favour, she shall return in perfect health.\n\nThe prince, transported with joy, sent immediately to fetch his\ndaughter, who very soon appeared with a numerous train of ladies and\neunuchs, but masked, so that her face was not seen. The chief of the\ndervises caused a pall to be held over her head, and he had no\nsooner thrown the seven hairs upon the burning coals, but the genie\nMaimoun, the son of Dimdim, gave a great cry, without any thing\nbeing seen, and left the princess at liberty; upon which she took\noff the veil from her face, and rose up to see where she was,\nsaying, Where am I, and who brought me hither? At which words, the\nsultan, overcome with excess of joy, embraced his daughter, and\nkissed her eyes? he also kissed the chief of the dervises\u2019 hands,\nand said to his officers, Tell me your opinion, what reward does he\ndeserve, that has thus cured my daughter? They all cried, he\ndeserves her in marriage. --This is what I had in my thoughts, said\nthe sultan; and I make him my son-in-law from this moment. Some time\nafter the prime vizier died, and the sultan conferred the place on\nthe dervise. The sultan himself also died without heirs male; upon\nwhich, the religious orders and the militia gathered together, and\nthe good man was declared and acknowledged sultan by general consent.\n\nDay light appearing, Scheherazade was obliged to break off her\nstory. Schahriar looked upon the dervise to be worthy of the crown\nhe had got, but was desirous to know if the envious man did not die\nfor spite; and got up with an intention to hear it next night.\n\n\n\n\nFORTY-EIGHTH NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade, when it was time, addressed her speech to the sultaness\nthus: My dear sister, said she, if you be not asleep, I would pray\nyou to continue the story of the hated and envious man. With all my\nheart, answered Scheherazade. The second calender continued his\nstory thus: The honest dervise, said he, being mounted on the throne\nof his father-in-law, as he was one day in the midst of his\ncourtiers upon a march, he espied the envious man among the crowd of\npeople that stood as he passed along, and calling one of the viziers\nthat attended him, whispered him in his ear thus; Go bring me that\nman you see there; but, take care you do not frighten him. The\nvizier obeyed, and when the envious man was brought into his\npresence, the sultan said, Friend, I am extremely glad to see you.\nUpon which he called an officer, Go immediately, said he, and cause\nto be paid the 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 conduct him to his house.\nAfter he had given this charge to the officer, he bid the envious\nman 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 the\napplication to himself thus: O genie! you see here, that this\nbountiful sultan did not content himself with forgetting the design\nof the envious man to take away his life, but treated him kindly,\nand sent him back with all the favours which I just now related. In\nshort, I made use of all my eloquence, praying him to imitate so\ngood an example, and to grant me pardon; but it was impossible for\nme to move his compassion.\n\nAll that I can do for thee, said he, is, that I will not take thy\nlife: do not flatter thyself that I will send thee safe and sound\nback; I must let thee feel what I am able to do by my enchantments.\nSo saying, he laid violent hands on me, and carried me across the\nvault of the subterranean palace, which opened to give him passage;\nhe flew up with me so high, that the earth seemed to be only a\nlittle white cloud; from thence he came down again like lightning,\nand alighted upon the ridge of a mountain.\n\nThere he took up a handful of earth, and pronounced or rather\nmuttered some words which I did not understand, and threw it upon\nme: Quit the shape of a man, said he to me, and take on thee that of\nan ape. He vanished immediately, and left me alone, transformed into\nan ape, overwhelmed with sorrow, in a strange country, not knowing\nwhether I was near or far from my father\u2019s dominions.\n\nI went down from the top of the mountain, and came into a plain\ncountry, which took me a month\u2019s time to travel through, and then\nI came to the sea-side. It happened to be then a great calm, and I\nespied a vessel about half a league from the shore: unwilling to\nlose this good opportunity, I broke off a large branch from a tree,\nwhich I carried with me to the sea-side, and set myself astride upon\nit, with a stick in each hand to serve me for oars.\n\nI launched out in this posture, and advanced near the ship. When I\nwas nigh enough to be known, the seamen and passengers that were\nupon the deck thought it an extraordinary sight, and all of them\nlooked upon me with great astonishment. In the mean time I got\naboard, and laying hold of a rope, I jumped upon the deck, but\nhaving lost my speech, I found myself in great perplexity; and\nindeed the risk I ran then was nothing less than when I was at the\nmercy of the genie.\n\nThe merchants, being both superstitious and scrupulous, believed I\nshould occasion some mischief to their voyage, if they received me;\ntherefore, said one, I will knock him down with a handspike; says\nanother, I will shoot an arrow through his guts: says a third, Let\nus throw him into the sea. Some of them would not have failed to\nhave executed their design, if I had not got to that side where the\ncaptain was, when I threw myself at his feet, and took him by the\ncoat in a begging posture. This action, together with the tears\nwhich he saw gush from my eyes, moved his compassion, so that he\ntook me under his protection, threatening to be revenged on him that\nwould do me the least hurt; and he himself made very much of me,\nwhile I on my part, though I had no power to speak, showed all\npossible signs of gratitude by my gestures.\n\nThe wind that succeeded the calm was gentle and favourable, and did\nnot change for fifty days, but brought us safe to the port of a fine\ncity, well peopled, and of great trade, the capital of a powerful\nstate, where we came to an anchor.\n\nOur vessel was speedily surrounded with an infinite number of boats\nfull of people, who came to congratulate their friends upon their\nsafe arrival, or to inquire for those they had left behind them in\nthe country from whence they came, or out of curiosity to see a ship\nthat came from a far country.\n\nAmongst the rest, some officers came on hoard, desiring to speak\nwith the merchants, in the name of the sultan. The merchants\nappearing, one of the officers told them, The sultan, our master,\nhath commanded us to acquaint you, that he is glad of your safe\narrival, and prays you to take the trouble, every one of you, to\nwrite some lines upon this roll of paper: and that his design by\nthis may be understood, you must know that we had a prime vizier,\nwho, besides a great capacity to manage affairs, understood writing\nto the highest perfection. This minister is lately dead, at which\nthe sultan is very much troubled: and since he can never behold his\nwriting without admiration, he has made a solemn vow, not to give\nthe place to any man but to him who can write as well as he did.\nMany people have presented their writings; but, to this day, nobody\nin all this empire, has been judged worthy to supply the vizier\u2019s\nplace.\n\nThose merchants that believed they could write well enough to\npretend to this high dignity, wrote one after another what they\nthought fit. After they had done, I advanced, and look the roll out\nof the gentleman\u2019s hand; but all the people, especially the\nmerchants, cried out, He will tear it, or throw it into the sea;\ntill they saw how properly I held the roll, and made a sign that I\nwould write in my turn: then they were of another opinion, and their\nfear turned into admiration. However, since they had never seen an\nape that could write, nor could be persuaded that I was more\ningenious than other apes, they offered to snatch the roll out of my\nhand; but the captain took my part once more. Let him alone, said\nhe; suffer him to write. If he only scribbles the paper, I promise\nyou that I will punish him upon the spot; if, on the contrary, he\nwrites well, as I hope he will, because I never saw an ape so clever\nand ingenious, and so quick of apprehension, I do declare that I\nwill own him as my son. I had one that had not half the wit that he\nhas. Perceiving that nobody opposed my design, I took the pen, and\nwrote six sorts of hands used among the Arabians, and each specimen\ncontained an extemporary distich or quatrain in praise of the\nsultan. My writing did not only excel that of the merchants, but, I\nventure to say, they had not before seen any such fair writing in\nthat country. When I had done, the officers took the roll, and\ncarried it to the sultan.\n\nThus far was Scheherazade come in her story, when day-light\nappeared. Sir, said she to Schahriar, if I had time to continue, I\nwould give your majesty an account of things far more surprising\nthan what I have already told. The sultan, who had resolved to hear\nthe end of the story, got up without saying a word.\n\n\n\n\nFORTY-NINTH NIGHT.\n\n\nThe next morning, Dinarzade, being awake before day, called the\nsultaness, and said, Sister, if you be not asleep, pray let us hear\nthe rest of the adventures that befel the ape. I believe my lord the\nsultan is no less curious to know it than myself. You shall both be\nsoon satisfied, answered Scheherazade. The second calender continued\nhis story thus:--\n\nThe sultan took little notice of any of the other writings, but\nconsidered mine, which was so much to his liking, that he said to\nthe officers, Take the finest horse in my stable, with the richest\nharness, and a robe of the most sumptuous brocade, to put upon that\nperson who wrote the six hands, and bring him hither to me. At this\ncommand the officers could not forbear laughing; the sultan grew\nangry at their boldness, and was ready to punish them; till they\ntold him, Sir, we humbly beg your majesty\u2019s pardon: these hands\nwere not written by a man, but by an ape. What do you say? said the\nsultan: those admirable characters, are they not written by the\nhands of a man? No, sir, replied the officers: we do assure your\nmajesty that it was an ape, who wrote them in our presence. The\nsultan was too much surprised at this account not to desire a sight\nof me; and therefore said, Do what I command you, and bring me\nspeedily that wonderful ape.\n\nThe officers returned to the vessel, and shewed the captain their\norder, who answered, The sultan\u2019s command must be obeyed.\nWhereupon they clothed me with that rich brocade robe, and carried\nme ashore, where they set me on horseback, whilst the sultan waited\nfor me at his palace, with a great number of courtiers, whom he\ngathered together to do me the more honour.\n\nThe cavalcade being begun, the harbour, the streets, the public\nplaces, windows, terraces, palaces, and houses, were filled with an\ninfinite number of people of all sorts, who flocked from all parts\nof the city to see me; for the rumour was spread in a moment, that\nthe sultan had chosen an ape to be his grand vizier; and after\nhaving served for a spectacle to the people, who could not forbear\nto express their surprise by redoubling their shouts and cries, I\narrived at the palace of the sultan.\n\nI found the prince on his throne in the midst of the grandees: I\nmade my bow three times very low, and at last kneeled and kissed the\nground before him, and afterwards sat down on my seat in the posture\nof an ape. The whole assembly admired me, and could not comprehend\nhow it was possible that an ape should understand so well to pay the\nsultan his due respect; and he himself was more astonished than any.\nIn short, the usual ceremony of the audience would have been\ncomplete, could I have added speech to my behaviour; but apes do\nnever speak, and the advantage I had of having been a man did not\nallow me that privilege.\n\nThe sultan dismissed his courtiers, and none remained by him but the\nchief of the eunuchs, a little young slave, and myself. He went from\nhis chamber of audience into his own apartment, where he ordered\ndinner to be brought. As he sat at table, he gave me a sign to come\nnear and eat with them: to show my obedience, I kissed the ground,\nstood up, sat down at table, and ate with discretion and moderation.\n\nBefore the table was uncovered, I espied a writing-desk, which I\nmade a sign should be brought me: having got it, I wrote upon a\nlarge peach some verses after my way, which testified my\nacknowledgment to the sultan; who having read them after my\npresenting him the peach, it increased his astonishment. When the\ntable was uncovered, they brought him a particular liquor, of which\nhe caused them to give me a glass. I drank and wrote upon it some\nnew verses, which explained the state I was reduced to, after many\nsufferings. The sultan read them likewise, and said, A man that was\ncapable of doing so much would be above the greatest of men.\n\nThe sultan caused them to bring in a chess-board, and asked me by a\nsign, if I understood that game, and would play with him? I kissed\nthe ground, and laying my hand upon my head, signified that I was\nready to receive that honour. He won the first game, but I won the\nsecond and third; and perceiving he was somewhat displeased at it, I\nmade a quatrain to pacify him; in which I told him, that two potent\narmies had been fighting furiously all day, but that they made up a\npiece towards the evening, and passed the remaining part of the\nnight very peaceably together upon the field of battle.\n\nSo many circumstances appearing to the sultan far beyond what ever\nany one had either seen or known of the cleverness or sense of apes,\nhe determined not to be the only witness of those prodigies himself,\nbut having a daughter, called the Lady of Beauty, on whom the chief\nof the eunuchs, then present waited, Go, said the sultan to him, and\nbid your lady come hither: I am desirous she should share my\npleasure.\n\nThe eunuch went, and immediately brought the princess, who had her\nface uncovered; but she was no sooner come into the room, than she\nput on her veil, and said to the sultan, Sir, your majesty must\nneeds have forgotten yourself: I am very much surprised that your\nmajesty has sent for me to appear among men. How, daughter! said the\nsultan, you do not know what you say: here is nobody but the little\nslave, the eunuch your governor, and myself, who have the liberty to\nsee your face; and yet you lower your veil, and blame me for having\nsent for you hither. --Sir, said the princess, your majesty shall\nsoon understand that I am not in the wrong. That ape you see before\nyou, though he has the shape of an ape, is a young prince, son of a\ngreat king; he has been metamorphosed into an ape by enchantment. A\ngenie, the son of the daughter of Eblis, has maliciously done him\nthis wrong, after having cruelly taken away the life of the princess\nof the isle of Ebene, daughter to the king Epitimarus.\n\nThe sultan, astonished at this discourse, turned towards me, and\nspoke no more by signs, but in plain words asked me, if it was true\nwhat his daughter said? Seeing I could not speak, I put my hand to\nmy head to signify that what the princess spoke was true. Upon this\nthe sultan said again to his daughter, How do you know that this\nprince has been transformed by enchantment into an ape? --Sir,\nreplied the Lady of Beauty, your majesty may remember that when I\nwas past my infancy, I had an old lady waited upon me; she was a\nmost expert magician, and taught me seventy rules of magic, by\nvirtue of which I can transport your capital city into the midst of\nthe sea in the twinkling of an eye, or beyond mount Caucasus. By\nthis science I know all enchanted persons at first sight; I know who\nthey are, and by whom they have been enchanted; therefore do not be\nsurprised if I should forthwith relieve this prince, in spite of the\nenchantment, from that which hinders him to appear in your sight\nwhat he naturally is. Daughter, said the sultan, I did not believe\nyou to have understood so much. --Sir, replied the princess, these\nthings are curious and worth knowing: but I think I ought not to\nboast of them. --Since it is so, said the sultan, you can dispel the\nprince\u2019s enchantment. --Yes, sir, said the princess, I can restore\nhim to his first shape again. --Do it then, said the sultan, you\ncannot do me a greater pleasure; for I will have him to be my\nvizier, and he shall marry you. --Sir, said the princess, I am ready\nto obey you in all that you should be pleased to command me.\n\nScheherazade, as she spoke, espied day, and broke off her story of\nthe second calender: and Schahriar, judging the sequel would be as\ndiverting as the former part of it, resolved to hear it next day.\n\n\n\n\nFIFTIETH NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade called the sultaness at the usual hour, saying, Sister, if\nyou be not asleep, pray do us the favour to tell us how the Lady of\nBeauty restored the second calender to his former shape. You shall\nhear it, said Scheherazade: The calender resumed his discourse thus:\n\nThe princess, the Lady of Beauty, went into her apartment, from\nwhence she brought in a knife, which had some Hebrew words engraven\non the blade; she made the sultan, the master of the eunuchs, the\nlittle slave, and myself, go down 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 characters,\nsome of them ancient, and others of those which they call the\ncharacters of Cleopatra.\n\nWhen she had finished and prepared the circle as she thought fit,\nshe placed herself in the centre of it, where she began abjurations,\nand repeated verses out of the Koran. The air grew insensibly dark,\nas if it had been night, and the whole world about to be dissolved:\nwe found ourselves struck with a panic, and this fear increased the\nmore when we saw the genie, the son of the daughter of Eblis, appear\non a sudden in the shape of a lion of a frightful size.\n\nAs soon as the princess perceived this monster, You dog, said she,\ninstead of creeping before me, dare you present yourself in this\nshape, thinking to frighten me? --And thou, replied the lion, art\nthou not afraid to break the treaty which was solemnly made and\nconfirmed between us by oath, not to wrong or do one another any\nhurt? --O! thou cursed creature! replied the princess, I can justly\nreproach thee with doing so. --The lion answered fiercely, Thou\nshalt quickly have thy reward for the trouble thou hast given me to\nreturn: with that he opened his terrible throat, and ran at her to\ndevour her; but she, being on her guard, leaped backward, got time\nto pull out one of her hairs, and by pronouncing three or four\nwords, changed herself into a sharp sword, wherewith she cut the\nlion through the middle in two pieces.\n\nThe two parts of the lion vanished, and the head only was left,\nwhich changed itself into a large scorpion. Immediately the princess\nturned herself into a serpent, and fought the scorpion, who, finding\nhimself worsted, took the shape of an eagle, and flew away; but the\nserpent at the same time took also the shape of an eagle, that was\nblack and much stronger, and pursued him, so that we lost the sight\nof them both.\n\nSome time after they had disappeared, the ground opened before us,\nand out of it came forth a cat, black and white, with her hair\nstanding upright, and mewing in a frightful manner; a black wolf\nfollowed her close, and gave her no time to rest. The cat, being\nthus hard beset, changed herself into a worm, and being nigh to a\npomegranate that had accidentally fallen from a tree that grew on\nthe side of a canal, which was deep, but not broad, the worm pierced\nthe pomegranate in an instant, and hid itself, but the pomegranate\nswelled immediately, and became as big as a gourd, which mounting up\nto the roof of the gallery, rolled there for some space, backward\nand forward, fell down again into the court, and broke into several\npieces.\n\nThe wolf, who had in the meantime transformed itself into a cock,\nfell to picking up the seeds of the pomegranate one after another;\nbut finding no more, he came towards us with his wings spread,\nmaking a great noise, as if he would ask us whether there was any\nmore seed. There was one lying on the brink of the canal, which the\ncock perceiving as he went back, ran speedily thither; but just as\nhe was going to pick it up, the seed rolled into the river, and\nturned into a little fish.\n\nBut I see day, sir, said Scheherazade; had it not come so suddenly,\nI am persuaded what I had farther to say would have given your\nmajesty a great deal of satisfaction. Upon this she stopped, and the\nsultan arose: but his thoughts being altogether taken up with such\nunheard-of adventures, he was extremely impatient till he heard the\nrest of the story.\n\n\n\n\nFIFTY-FIRST NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade made no scruple to disturb the sultaness next morning, and\ncalled to her, Sister, if you be not asleep, pray begin where you\nleft off that wonderful story last night: I am very desirous to know\nwhat followed after all those metamorphoses. Scheherazade\nrecollected where she had stopped, and addressing her discourse to\nthe sultan, Sir, said she, the second calender continued his story\nafter this manner.\n\nThe cock jumped into the river and was turned into a pike, that\npursued the small fish; they continued both under water above two\nhours, and we knew not what was become of them, but all on a sudden\nwe heard terrible cries, which made us tremble, and a little while\nafter we saw the genie and princess all in flames. They threw\nflashes of fire out of their mouths at each other, till they came to\nclose quarters; then the two fires increased, with a thick burning\nsmoke, which mounted so high, that we had reason to fear it would\nset the palace on fire. But we very soon had a more pressing\noccasion of fear, for the genie having got loose from the princess,\ncame to the gallery where we stood, and blew flames of fire upon us.\nWe had all perished if the princess, running to out assistance, had\nnot by her cries forced him to retire, and defend himself against\nher; yet, notwithstanding all her exertions, she could not hinder\nthe sultan\u2019s beard from being burnt, and his face spoiled, the\nchief of the eunuchs from being stifled, and burnt on the spot, and\na spark from entering my right eye, and making it blind. The sultan\nand I expected nothing but death, when we heard a cry of Victory,\nvictory! and on a sudden the princess appeared in her natural shape,\nbut the genie was reduced to a heap of ashes.\n\nThe princess came near to us, that she might not lose time, called\nfor a cup-full of water, which the young slave, who had received no\ndamage, brought her. She took it, and after pronouncing some words\nover it, threw it upon me, saying, if thou art become an ape by\nenchantment, change thy shape, and take that of a man, which thou\nhadst before. These words were hardly uttered, till I became a man\nas I was before, one eye only excepted.\n\nI was preparing myself to give thanks to the princess, but she\nprevented me by addressing herself to her father, thus; Sir, I have\ngained the victory over the genie, as your majesty may see; but it\nis a victory that costs me dear; I have but a few minutes to live,\nand you will not have the satisfaction to make the match you\nintended; the fire has pierced me during the terrible combat, and I\nfind it consumes me by degrees. This would not have happened, had I\nperceived the last of the pomegranate seeds, and swallowed it, as I\ndid the other when I was changed into a cock; the genie had fled\nthither as to his last entrenchment, and upon that the success of\nthe combat depended, which would have been successful, and without\ndanger to me. This slip obliged me to have recourse to fire, and to\nfight with those mighty arms as I did between heaven and earth, in\nyour presence: for, in spite of all his redoubtable art and\nexperience, I made the genie know that I understood more than he: I\nhave conquered and reduced him to ashes, but I cannot escape death,\nwhich is approaching.\n\nHere Scheherazade broke off the story of the second calender, and\nsaid to the sultan, Sir, daylight appears, which forbids me to say\nany more; but if your majesty thinks fit to let me live till to\nmorrow, you shall hear the end of this story. Schahriar consented,\nand got up according to custom to take care of the affairs of his\nempire.\n\n\n\n\nFIFTY-SECOND NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade awaking some time before day, called upon the sultaness,\nand said, My dear sister, if you be not asleep, I would pray you to\nfinish the story of the second calender. Scheherazade resumed her\ndiscourse, and went on as follows:\n\nThe calender always directing his speech to Zobeide, told her,\nMadam, the sultan suffered the princess, the Lady of Beauty, to go\non with the recital of her combat, and when she had done, he spoke\nto her in a tone that sufficiently testified his grief. My daughter,\nsaid he, you see in what condition your father is; alas! I wonder\nthat I am yet alive! Your governor, the eunuch, is dead; and the\nprince whom you have delivered from his enchantment has lost one of\nhis eyes. He could speak no more, for his tears, sighs, and sobs,\nmade him speechless; his daughter and I were exceeding sensible of\nhis sorrow, and wept with him.\n\nIn the mean time, while we were vying with each other in grief, the\nprincess cried, I burn! I burn! She found that the fire which\nconsumed her, had at last seized upon her whole body, which made her\nstill cry, I burn, until death had made an end of her intolerable\npains. The effect of that fire was so extraordinary, that in a few\nmoments she was wholly reduced to ashes, as was the genie.\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 dog,\nthan to have seen my benefactress thus miserably perish. The sultan\nbeing afflicted beyond all that can be imagined, cried out\npiteously, and beat himself on his head and stomach, until being\nquite overcome with grief, he fainted away, which made me fear for\nhis life. In the mean time the eunuchs and officers came running at\nthe sultan\u2019s cries, and with very much ado brought him to himself\nagain. There was no need for that prince and me to give them a long\nnarrative of this adventure, in order to convince them of their\ngreat loss. The two heaps of ashes, into which the princess and the\ngenie had been reduced, were sufficient demonstration. The sultan\nwas hardly able to stand, but was forced to be supported by them\ntill he could get to his apartment.\n\nWhen the noise of the tragical event had spread itself through the\npalace and the city, all the people bewailed the misfortune of the\nprincess, the Lady of Beauty, and were much affected by the\nsultan\u2019s affliction. Every one was in deep mourning for seven\ndays, and many ceremonies were performed. The ashes of the genie\nwere thrown into the air, but those of the princess were gathered\ninto a precious urn, to be kept, and the urn was set in a stately\ntomb, which was built for that purpose on the same place where the\nashes had lain.\n\nThe grief which the sultan conceived for the loss of his daughter\nthrew him into a fit of sickness, which confined him to his chamber\nfor a whole month. He had not fully recovered strength when he sent\nfor me: Prince, said he, hearken to the orders that I now give you;\nit will cost you your life if you do not put them into execution. I\nassured him of exact obedience; upon which he went on thus: I have\nconstantly lived in perfect felicity, and was never crossed by any\naccident; but by your arrival all the happiness I possessed is\nvanished: my daughter is dead, her governor is no more, and it is\nthrough a miracle that I am yet alive. You are the cause of all\nthose misfortunes, for which it is impossible that I should be\ncomforted; therefore depart from hence in peace, without further\ndelay, for I myself must perish, if you stay any longer: I am\npersuaded that your presence brings mischief along with it. This is\nall I have to say to you. Depart, and take care of ever appearing\nagain in my dominions; no consideration whatsoever shall hinder me\nfrom making you repent of it. I was going to speak, but he stopped\nmy mouth by words full of anger: and so I was obliged to remove from\nhis palace, rejected, banished, an outcast from the world, and not\nknowing what would become of me. Before I left the city I went into\na bagnio, where I caused my beard and eyebrows to be shaved, and put\non a calender\u2019s habit. I began my journey, not so much deploring\nmy own 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 hopes\nto get myself introduced to the commander of the faithful, to move\nhis compassion by giving him an account of my strange adventures. I\ncame hither this evening, and the first man I met was this calender,\nour brother, who spoke before me. You know the remaining part,\nmadam, and the cause of my having the honour to be here.\n\nWhen the second calender made an end of his story, Zobeide, to whom\nhe had addressed his speech, told him, It is well, you may go which\nway you please; I give you leave: but instead of departing, he also\npetitioned the lady to show him the same favour she had vouchsafed\nto the first calender, and went and sat down by him. But, sir, said\nScheherazade, as she spoke these words, it is day, and I must not\nproceed: I dare however assure you, that how agreeable soever this\nstory of the second calender may seem to you, that of the third will\nbe no less worthy of your hearing, if your majesty be pleased to\nhave patience. The sultan being desirous to know whether it would\nappear so wonderful as the last, got out of bed with a resolution to\nprolong Scheherazade\u2019s life farther, though the delay he had\ngranted was determined several days before.\n\n\n\n\nFIFTY-THIRD NIGHT.\n\n\nAbout the latter end of the following night, Dinarzade addressed\nherself to the sultaness thus: Dear sister, I pray, until day\nappear, which will be very soon, be pleased to relate some of the\nfine stories you have read. --I would willingly, said Schahriar,\nhear the story of the third calender. --Sir, replied Scheherazade,\nyou shall be obeyed. The third calender, perceiving it was his turn\nto speak, addressed his speech as the rest had done, to Zobeide, and\nbegan in this manner:\n\n\n\n\nThe History of the Third Calender, a King\u2019s Son.\n\n\nMy story, most honourable lady, very much differs from what you have\nheard already. The two princes that spoke before me have each lost\nan eye by the pure effects of their destiny, but mine I lost through\nmy own fault, and by hastening to seek my own misfortune, as you\nshall hear by the sequel of the story. My name is Agib, and I am the\nson of a king who was called Cassib. After his death I took\npossession of his dominions, and resided in the same city where he\nlived before. The city is situated on the sea-coast, has one of the\nfinest and safest harbours in the world, an arsenal capable of\nfitting out for sea one hundred and fifty men of war that are always\nready, and fifty merchantmen, and light frigates, and pleasure-boats\nbesides. My kingdom is composed of several fine provinces upon the\nmain land, besides a number of spacious islands, every one of which\nlies almost in sight of my capital city.\n\nThe first thing I did was to visit the provinces. I afterwards\ncaused my whole fleet to be fitted out and manned, and went to my\nislands to gain the hearts of my subjects by my presence, and to\nconfirm them in their loyalty; and some time after I returned, I\nwent thither again. These voyages giving me some taste for\nnavigation, I took so much pleasure in it, that I resolved to make\nsome discoveries beyond my islands; to which end I caused only ten\nships to be fitted out, embarked on board them, and set sail.\n\nOur voyage was very successful for forty days together: but on the\nforty-first night the wind became contrary, and withal so\nboisterous, that we were near being lost in the storm. About break\nof day the wind grew calm, the clouds dispersed, and the sun having\nbrought back fair weather, we came close to an island, where we\nremained two days to take in fresh provisions; after which we put\noff again to sea. After ten days\u2019 sail, we were in hopes of seeing\nland; for the tempests we had gone through had so much abated my\ncuriosity, that I gave orders to steer back to my own coast; but I\nperceived at the same time, that my pilot knew not where we were.\nUpon the tenth day, a seaman being sent to look out for land from\nthe main-mast head, gave notice that on starboard and larboard he\ncould see nothing but the sky and the sea, which bounded the\nhorizon; but just before us, upon the stern, he saw a great\nblackness.\n\nThe pilot changed colour at this relation; 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 will escape! and,\nwith all my skill, it is not in my power to prevent it. --Having\nspoke thus, he fell to crying like a man who foresaw unavoidable\nruin: his despair put the whole ship\u2019s crew in fear. I asked him\nwhat reason he had thus to despair? He told me the tempest, which he\nhad outlived, had brought us so far out of our course, that\nto-morrow about noon we should come near to that black place, which\nis nothing else but the black mountain, that is, a mine of adamant,\nwhich at this very minute draws all your fleet towards it, by virtue\nof the iron and the nails that are in your ships; and when we come\nto-morrow at a certain distance, the strength of the adamant will\nhave such a force, that all the nails will be drawn out of the sides\nand bottoms of the ships, and fasten to the mountain; so that your\nvessel will fall to pieces, and sink to the bottom: and as the\nadamant has a virtue to draw all iron to it, whereby its attraction\nbecomes stronger, this mountain on the side of the sea is covered\nover with nails, drawn out of an infinite number of vessels that\nhave perished by it; and this preserves and augments its virtue at\nthe same time.\n\nThis mountain, continued the pilot, is very rugged: on the top of it\nthere is a dome of fine brass, supported by pillars of the same; and\nupon the top of that dome there stands a horse of the same metal,\nwith a rider on his back, who has a plate of lead fixed to his\nbreast, upon which some talismanic characters are engraven. Sir, the\ntradition is, that this statue is the chief cause that so many ships\nand men have been lost and sunk in this place, and that it will ever\ncontinue to be fatal to all those who have the misfortune to come\nnear to it, until it shall be thrown down.\n\nThe pilot, having ended his discourse, began to weep afresh, and all\nthe rest of the ship\u2019s company did the like. I had no other\nthought but that my days were there to have an end. In the mean\ntime, every one began to provide for his own safety, and to that end\ntook all imaginable precautions; and, being uncertain of the event,\nthey all made one another their heirs, by virtue of a will, for the\nbenefit of those that should happen to be saved.\n\nThe next morning we perceived the black mountain very plain, and the\nidea we had conceived of it made it appear more frightful than it\nwas. About noon we were come so near, that we found what the pilot\nhad foretold to be true; for we saw all the nails and iron about the\nships fly towards the mountain, where they fixed, by the violence of\nthe attraction, with a horrible noise: the ships split asunder, and\nsunk into the sea, which was so deep about the place, that we could\nnot sound it. All my people were drowned; but God had mercy on me,\nand permitted me to save myself by means of a plank, which the wind\ndrove ashore just at the foot of the mountain. I did not receive the\nleast hurt; and my good fortune brought me to a landing place, where\nthere were steps that went up to the top of the mountain.\n\nScheherazade would have gone on with her story, but day appearing,\nshe was obliged to keep silence. The sultan was convinced by this\nbeginning that the sultaness had not deceived him; and therefore we\nare not to wonder that he did not order her to die that day.\n\n\n\n\nFIFTY-FOURTH NIGHT.\n\n\nFor heaven\u2019s sake, cried Dinarzade, next morning, if you be not\nasleep, sister, go on with the story of the third calender. My dear\nsister, said Scheherazade, the prince renewed his discourse thus:--\n\nAt the sight of these steps, said he, for there was not a bit of\nground, either on the right or left, whereon a man could set his\nfoot, I gave thanks to God, and recommended myself to his holy\nprotection, as I began to mount the steps, which were so narrow,\nrugged, and hard to get up, that had the wind blown ever so little,\nit would have thrown me down into the sea. But at last I got up to\nthe top, without any accident. I came into the dome, and, kneeling\non the ground, gave God thanks for his mercies to me.\n\nI passed the night under the dome; and in my sleep, an old grave man\nappeared to me, and said, Hearken, Agib: as soon as thou art awake,\ndig up the ground under thy feet; thou shalt find a bow of brass,\nand 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 rider\nshall fall into the sea, but the horse will fall down by thy side,\nwhich thou must bury in the same place from whence thou tookest the\nbow and arrows. This being done, the sea will swell and rise up to\nthe foot of the dome that stands upon the top of the mountain: when\nit comes up so high, thou shalt see a boat with one man holding an\noar in each hand; --this man is also of metal, but different from\nthat thou hast thrown down; step on board to him, without mentioning\nthe name of God, and let him conduct thee. He will in ten days\u2019\ntime bring thee into another sea, where thou shalt find an\nopportunity to get home to thy country safe and sound, provided, as\nI have told thee, thou dost not mention the name of God during the\nwhole voyage.\n\nThis was the substance of the old man\u2019s discourse. When I awoke, I\nwas very much comforted by the vision, and did not fail to observe\nevery thing that he had commanded me. I took the bow and arrows out\nof the ground, shot at the horseman, and, with the third arrow, I\noverthrew him: he fell into the sea, and the horse fell by my side,\nwhich I buried in the place whence I took the bow and arrows. In the\nmean time, the sea swelled, and rose up by degrees; when it came as\nhigh as the foot of the dome that stood upon the top of the\nmountain, I saw afar off a boat rowing towards me, and I returned\nGod thanks that every thing succeeded according to my dream.\n\nAt last the boat made land, and I saw the man was made of metal, as\nI had dreamt. I stepped aboard, and took great heed not to pronounce\nthe name of God, neither spoke I one word. I sat down, and the man\nof metal began to row off from the mountain. He rowed without\nceasing till the ninth day, when I saw some islands, which gave me\nhopes that I should escape all the danger that I feared. The excess\nof my joy made me forget what I was forbidden to do: Blessed be God!\nsaid I; God be praised!\n\nI had no sooner spoken these words, but the boat sunk with the man\nof metal; and, leaving me upon the surface, I swam the remaining\npart of the day towards that land which appeared nearest to me. A\nvery dark night succeeded; and not knowing where I was, I swam at a\nventure. My strength at last began to fail, and I despaired of being\nable to save myself; when the wind began to blow hard, and a wave,\nas big as a mountain, threw me on a flat, where it left me, and drew\nback. I made haste to get ashore, fearing another wave might wash me\nback again. The first thing I did was to strip, and wring the water\nout of my clothes, and then laid them down on the dry sand, which\nwas still pretty warm by the heat of the day.\n\nNext morning the sun dried my clothes early; I put them on, and went\nforward to see where I was. I had not walked very far, till I found\nI was got upon a little desert island, though very pleasant, where\nthere grew several sorts of trees and wild fruits; but I perceived\nit was very far from the continent, which much diminished the joy I\nconceived for having escaped the danger of the seas. I\nnotwithstanding recommended myself to God, and prayed him to dispose\nof me according to his good will and pleasure. At the same time I\nsaw a vessel coming from the main land, before the wind, directly to\nthe island. I doubted not but they were coming to anchor there; and\nbeing uncertain what sort of people they might be, whether friends\nor foes, I thought it not safe for me to be seen. I got up into a\nvery thick tree, from whence I might safely view them. The vessel\ncame into a little creek, where ten slaves landed, carrying a spade\nand other instruments fit for digging up the ground. They went\ntowards the middle of the island, where I saw them stop and dig the\nground a long while; after which I thought I saw them lift up a\ntrap-door. They returned again to the vessel, and unladed several\nsorts of provisions and furniture, which they carried to that place\nwhere they had broken ground, and so went downward; which made me\nsuppose it was a subterraneous dwelling.\n\nI saw them once more go to the ship, and return soon after with an\nold man, who led a very handsome young lad in his hand, of about\nfourteen or fifteen years of age --They all went down at the\ntrap-door; and, being come up again, having let down the trap-door,\nand covered it over with earth, they returned to the creek where the\nship lay: but I saw not the young man in their company. This made me\nbelieve that he staid behind in that place under ground, at which I\ncould not but be extremely astonished.\n\nThe old man and the slaves went aboard again, and the vessel being\ngot under sail, steered its course towards the main land. When I\nperceived they were at such distance that they could not see me, I\ncame down from the tree, and went directly to the place where I had\nseen the ground broken. I removed the earth by degrees, till I found\na stone that was two or three feet square. I lifted it up, and saw\nthat it covered the head of the stairs, which were also of stone. I\nwent down, and came into a large room, where there was laid a\nfoot-carpet, and a couch covered with tapestry, and cushions covered\nwith rich stuff, upon which the young man sat, with a fan in his\nhand. I saw all this by the light of two tapers, together with the\nfruits and flower-pots he had standing about him. The young lad was\nstartled at the sight of me; but to rid him of his fear, I said to\nhim as I came in, Whoever you be, sir, do not fear any thing: a\nking, and the son of a king, as I am, is not capable of doing you\nany prejudice; on the contrary, it is probable that your good\ndestiny has brought me hither to deliver you out of this tomb, where\nit seems they have buried you alive, for reasons unknown to me. But\nthat which makes me wonder, and what I cannot conceive, (for you\nmust know that I have been witness to all that hath passed since\nyour coming into this island), is, that you suffered yourself to be\nburied in this place without any resistance.\n\nScheherazade broke off here, and the sultan arose, very impatient to\nknow why this young lad was thus abandoned in a desert island, as to\nwhich he promised himself satisfaction next night.\n\n\n\n\nFIFTY-FIFTH NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade perceiving it was time to call upon the sultaness, said,\nSister, if you be not asleep, pray resume the story of the third\ncalender. Scheherazade gave her no occasion to repeat her request,\nand went on in this manner:--\n\nThe young man, continued the third calender, recovered himself at\nthese words, and prayed me, with a smiling countenance, to sit down\nby him; which when I had done, he said, Prince, I am to acquaint you\nwith a matter so extraordinary in itself, that it cannot but\nsurprise you.\n\nMy father is a merchant jeweller, who, through his ingenuity in his\ncalling, has acquired a great estate. He has many slaves and also\ndeputies, whom he employs to go as supercargoes to sea with his own\nships, on purpose to maintain the correspondence he has at several\ncourts, which he furnishes with such precious stones as they want.\n\nHe had been married a long while, and without issue, when he\nunderstood by a dream that he should have a son, though his life\nwould be but short; at which he was very much concerned when he\nawoke. --Some days after, my mother acquainted him that she was with\nchild: and what she supposed to be the time of her conception agreed\nexactly with the day of his dream. She was brought to bed of me at\nthe end of nine months, which occasioned great joy in the family.\n\nMy father, who had observed the very moment of my birth, consulted\nastrologers about my nativity, who told him, Your son shall live\nvery happily till the age of fifteen, when he will be in danger of\nlosing his life, and hardly be able to escape it: but if his good\ndestiny preserve him beyond that time, he will live to grow very\nold. It will be (said they) when the statue of brass, that stands\nupon the top of the mountain of adamant, shall be thrown down into\nthe sea by prince Agib, son of king Cassib; and, as the stars\nprognosticate, your son shall be killed fifty days afterwards by\nthat prince.\n\nAs the event of this part of the prediction about the statue agrees\nexactly with my father\u2019s dream, it afflicted him so much, that he\nwas struck to the very heart with it. In the mean time, he took all\nimaginable care of my education until this present year, which is\nthe fifteenth of my age; and he had notice given him yesterday, that\nthe statue of brass had been thrown into the sea about ten days ago,\nby that same prince I told you of. This news has cost him so many\ntears, and has alarmed him so much, that he looks not like himself.\n\nUpon these predictions of the astrologers, he has sought by all\nmeans possible to falsify my horoscope, and to preserve my life. It\nis not long since he took the precaution to build me this\nsubterranean habitation to hide me in till the expiration of the\nfifty days after the throwing down of the statue; and therefore,\nsince it was ten days ago that this had happened, he came hastily\nhither to hide me, and promised at the end of forty days to come\nagain, and fetch me out. As for my own part, I am in good hope, and\ncannot believe that prince Agib will come to seek for me in a place\nunder ground in the midst of a desert island. This, my lord, is what\nI have to say to you.\n\nWhile the jeweller\u2019s son was telling me this story, I laughed\nwithin myself at those astrologers who had foretold that I should\ntake away his life; for I thought myself so far from being likely to\nverify what they said, that he had scarce done speaking, when I told\nhim, with great joy, Dear sir, put your confidence in the goodness\nof God, and fear nothing: you may consider it as a debt you was to\npay, but that you are acquitted of it from this very hour. I am glad\nthat, after my shipwreck, I came so fortunately hither to defend you\nagainst all those that would attempt your death. I will not leave\nyou till the forty days are expired, of which the foolish\nastrologers have made you apprehensive; and, in the mean while, I\nwill do you all the service that lies in my power; after which, I\nshall have the benefit of getting to the main land in your vessel,\nwith leave of your father, and yourself; and when I am returned into\nmy kingdom, I shall remember the obligations I owe you, and\nendeavour to demonstrate my acknowledgments in a suitable manner.\n\nThis my discourse encouraged the jeweller\u2019s son, and inspired him\nwith confidence in me. I took care not to tell him I was the very\nAgib whom he dreaded, lest I should put him into a fright, and took\nas much care not to give him any cause to suspect it. We passed the\ntime in several discourses till night came on: I found the young lad\nof ready wit, and partook with him of his provisions, of which he\nhad enough to have lasted beyond the forty days, though he had more\nguests than myself. After supper we continued some time in\ndiscourse: at last we went to bed. The next day, when we got up, I\nheld the basin and water to him; I also provided dinner, and set it\non the table in due time; after we had done, I invented a play to\ndivert ourselves, not only for that day, but for those that\nfollowed. I prepared supper after the same manner as I had prepared\ndinner; and having supped, we went to bed as formerly. We had time\nenough to contract friendship. I found he loved me, and for my part,\nI had so great a respect for him, that I have often said to myself,\nThose astrologers who predicted to his father, that his son should\ndie by my hand, were impostors; for it is not possible that I could\ncommit so base an action. In short, madam, we spent thirty-nine days\nin the pleasantest manner that could be, in a place like that under\nground.\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; I am not dead, thanks to\nGod and your good company. My father will not fail to be here anon,\nto give you a testimony of his gratitude for it, and shall furnish\nyou with all that is necessary for your return to your kingdom: but\nin the mean time, said he, I beg you to get ready some water very\nwarm, to wash my whole body in that portable bagnio, that I may\nclean myself, and change my clothes, to receive my father more\ncheerfully.\n\nI set the water on the fire, and when it was hot, put it into the\nmoveable bagnio; the youth went in, and I myself washed and rubbed\nhim. At last he came out, and laid himself down in his bed that I\nhad prepared, and covered him with his bed clothes. After he had\nslept a while, he awoke, and said, Dear prince, pray do me the\nfavour to fetch me a melon and some sugar, that I may eat some, and\nrefresh me.\n\nOut of several melons that remained, I took the best, and laid it on\na plate; and because I could not find a knife to cut it with, I\nasked the young man if he knew where there was one. There is one,\nsaid he, upon this cornice over my head. I accordingly saw it there,\nand made so much haste to reach it, that while I had it in my hand,\nmy foot being entangled in the covering, I fell most unhappily upon\nthe young man, and the knife run into his heart in a minute.\n\nAt this spectacle I cried out most hideously; 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 cried, there were only\nsome hours wanting to have put him out of that danger from which he\nsought sanctuary here; and when I myself thought the danger past,\nthen I became his murderer, and verified the prediction. But, O\nLord! said I, lifting up my face and hands to heaven, I intreat thy\npardon, and if I be guilty of his death, let me not live any longer.\n\nScheherazade perceiving day, was obliged to break off this doleful\nstory. The sultan of the Indies was moved with it, and felt very\nuneasy to think what would become of the calender after this; and\nresolved that Scheherazade should not die that day, because she was\nthe only person that could resolve him.\n\n\n\n\nFIFTY-SIXTH NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade awaked the sultaness next morning as usual. If you be not\nasleep, sister, said she, pray tell us what passed after the death\nof the young man. She went on as follows:\n\nMadam, continued the third calender, addressing himself to Zobeide,\nafter this misfortune, I would have embraced death without any\nreluctance, had it presented itself to me. But what we wish to\nourselves, whether good or bad, will not always happen.\nNevertheless, considering with myself that all my tears and sorrows\nwould not bring the young man to life again, and the forty days\nbeing expired, I might be surprised by his father, I quitted the\nsubterranean dwelling, laid down the great stone upon the entry of\nit, and covered it with earth.\n\nI had scarce done, when casting my eyes upon the sea towards the\nmain land, I perceived the vessel coming to fetch home the young\nman. I began then to consider what I had best do; I said to myself,\nif I am seen by the old man, he will certainly lay hold of me, and\nperhaps cause me to be massacred by his slaves when he has seen that\nhis son is killed: all that I can allege to justify myself will not\npersuade him of my innocence. It is better for me then to withdraw,\nsince it is in my power, than to expose myself to his resentment.\n\nThere happened to be near that subterranean habitation a large tree\nwith thick leaves, which I thought fit to hide me in --I got up to\nit, and was no sooner fixed in a place where I could not be seen,\nthan I saw the vessel come to the same place where she lay the first\ntime.\n\nThis old man and his slaves landed immediately, and advanced towards\nthe subterranean dwelling, with a countenance that showed some hope;\nbut when they saw the earth had been newly removed, they changed\ncolour, particularly the old man. They lifted up the stone, and went\ndown; they called the young man by his name, but he not answering,\ntheir fears increased; they went down to seek him, and at length\nfound him lying upon the bed, with the knife in his heart, for I had\nnot power to take it out. At this sight they cried out lamentably,\nwhich increased my sorrow: the old man fell down in a swoon. The\nslaves, to give him air, brought him up in their arms, and laid him\nat the foot of the tree where I was; but notwithstanding all the\npains they took to recover him, the unfortunate father continued a\nlong while in that condition, and made them oftener than once\ndespair of his life, but at last he came to himself. Then the slaves\nbrought up his son\u2019s corpse, dressed in his best apparel, and when\nthey had made a grave, they put him into it. --The old man,\nsupported by two slaves, and his face covered with tears, threw the\nfirst earth upon him, after which the slaves filled up the grave.\n\nThis being done, all the furniture was brought up from under ground,\nand, with the remaining provisions, put on board the vessel. The old\nman, overcome with sorrow, and not being able to stand, was laid\nupon a sort of litter, and carried to the ship which stood out to\nsea, and in a short time was out of sight. The daylight which began\nto enter the sultan\u2019s apartment, obliged Scheherazade to stop\nhere; Schahriar arose at the usual hour; and for the same reason as\nbefore, he prolonged the sultaness\u2019s life, and left her with\nDinarzade.\n\n\n\n\nFIFTY-SEVENTH NIGHT.\n\n\nThe next morning, before day, Dinarzade addressed herself to the\nsultaness in these words; My dear sister, if you be not asleep, be\npleased to continue the adventures of the third calender. You must\nknow then, sister, said Scheherazade, that the prince went on with\nthe relation of his story to Zobeide and the company as follows:\n\nAfter the old man and his slaves were gone with the vessel, I was\nleft alone upon the island. I lay that night in the subterranean\ndwelling, which they had shut up; and when the day came, I walked\nround the island, and stopped in such places as I thought most\nproper to repose in.\n\nI led this wearisome life for a whole month; after which I perceived\nthe sea to be mightily fallen, the island to be much larger, and the\nmain land seemed to be drawing near me. In fact, the water grew so\nlow, that there was but a small stream between me and the main land.\nI crossed it, and the water did not come above the middle of my leg.\nI walked so long upon the slime and sand, that I was very weary; at\nlast I got upon firm ground, and when at a good distance from the\nsea, I saw a good way before me somewhat like a great fire, which\ngave me some comfort; for I said to myself, I shall find somebody or\nother, it not being possible that this fire should kindle of itself;\nbut when I came nearer hand, I found my error, and saw that what I\nhad taken for a fire was a castle of red copper, which the beams of\nthe sun made to look at a distance as if it had been in flames.\n\nI stopped near the castle, and sat down to admire its admirable\nstructure, and to rest awhile: I had not taken such a full view of\nthis magnificent building as it deserved, when I saw ten handsome\nyoung men coming along, as if they had been taking a walk; but what\nmost surprised me was, that they were all blind of the right eye:\nthey accompanied an old man, who was very tall, and of a venerable\naspect.\n\nI could not but wonder at the sight of so many half-blind men all\ntogether, and every one blind of the same eye; as I was thinking in\nmy mind by what adventure all these men could come together, they\ncame up to me, and seemed very glad to see me. After the first\ncompliments, they inquired what had brought me thither? I told them\nmy story would be somewhat tedious, but if they would take the\ntrouble to sit down, I would satisfy their request. They did so, and\nI related to them all that had happened unto me since I left my\nkingdom, which filled them with astonishment.\n\nAfter I had ended my discourse, the young gentlemen prayed me to go\nwith them into the castle; I accepted the proffer, and we passed\nthrough a great many halls, antechambers, bedchambers, and closets,\nvery well furnished, and came at last into a spacious hall, where\nthere were ten small blue sofas set round, separate from one\nanother, upon which they sat by day, and slept by night. In the\nmiddle of this circle stood an eleventh sofa, not so high as the\nrest, but of the same colour, upon which the old man before\nmentioned sat down, and the young gentlemen made use of the other\nten; but as each sofa could only contain one man, one of the young\nmen said to me, Comrade, sit down upon that carpet in the middle of\nthe room, and do not inquire into any thing that concerns us, nor\nthe reason why we are all blind of the right eye; be content with\nwhat you see, and let not your curiosity go any farther.\n\nThe old man having sat a little while, rose up and went out; but he\nreturned in a minute or two, brought in supper to those ten\ngentlemen, distributed to each man his portion by himself, and\nlikewise brought me mine, which I eat by myself, as the rest did;\nand when supper was almost ended, he presented to each of us a cup\nof wine.\n\nThey thought my story so extraordinary, that they made me repeat it\nafter supper, and it furnished conversation for a good part of the\nnight. One of the gentlemen observing that it was late, said to the\nold man, You see it is time to go to bed, and you do not bring us\nthat with which we may acquit ourselves of our duty. At these words\nthe old man arose, and went into a closet, from whence he brought\nout upon his head ten basins one after another, all covered with\nblue stuff: he set one before every gentleman, together with a light.\n\nThey uncovered their basins, in which there were ashes, coal-dust,\nand lamp-black; they mixed all together, and rubbed and bedaubed\ntheir faces with it, in such a manner that they looked very\nfrightful. After having thus blacked themselves they fell a weeping\nand lamenting, beating their heads and breasts, and cried\ncontinually, This is the fruit of our idleness and debauches.\n\nThey continued thus almost the whole night, and when they left off,\nthe old man brought them water, with which they washed their faces\nand hands; they changed all their clothes, which were spoiled, and\nput on others; so that they did not look in the least as if they had\nbeen doing so strange an action.\n\nYou may judge, madam, how uneasy I was all the while: I wished a\nthousand times to break the silence which those young gentlemen had\nimposed upon me, and ask questions; nor was it possible for me to\nsleep that night.\n\nAfter we got up next day we went out to walk, when I told them,\nGentlemen, I declare to you, that I must renounce that law which you\nprescribed to me last night, for I cannot observe it. You are men of\nsense, and do not want wit; you have convinced me of this; yet I\nhave seen you do such actions as none but madmen could be capable\nof. Whatever misfortune befals me, I cannot forbear asking, why you\nbedaubed your faces with black? How it comes that each of you have\nbut one eye? Some singular circumstance must certainly be the cause\nof it; therefore I conjure you to satisfy my curiosity. To these\npressing instances they answered only, that it was no business of\nmine to ask such questions, 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 his blue basins, and the young gentlemen bedaubed their faces,\nwept and beat themselves, crying, This is the fruit of our idleness\nand debauches, as before, and continued the same actions the\nfollowing night. At last, not being able to resist my curiosity, I\nearnestly prayed them to satisfy me, or show me how to return to my\nown kingdom; for it was impossible for me to keep them company any\nlonger, and to see every night such an odd spectacle, without being\npermitted to know the reason.\n\nOne of the gentlemen answered in behalf of the rest, Do not wonder\nat our conduct in regard to yourself, and that hitherto we have not\ngranted your request: it is out of mere kindness to save you the\npain of being reduced to the same condition with us. If you have a\nmind to try our unfortunate destiny, you need but speak, and we will\ngive you the satisfaction you desire. I told them I was resolved on\nit, let what would be the consequence. Once more, said the same\ngentleman, we advise you to restrain your curiosity: it will cost\nyou the loss of your right eye. No matter, said I; I declare to you,\nthat if such a misfortune befal me, I will not impute it to you but\nto myself.\n\nHe farther represented to me, that when I had lost an eye, I must\nnot hope to stay with them, if I were so minded, because their\nnumber was so complete, and no addition could be made to it. I told\nthem, that it would be a great satisfaction to me never to part from\nsuch honest gentlemen, but if there were necessity for it, I was\nready to submit; and let it cost what it would, I begged them to\ngrant my request.\n\nThe ten gentlemen perceiving that I was so fixed in my resolution,\ntook a sheep and killed it, and after they had taken off the skin,\npresented me with a knife, telling me it would be useful to me on a\ncertain occasion, which they should tell me of presently. We must\nsew you into this skin, said they, and then leave you; upon which a\nfowl of monstrous size, called a roc, will appear in the air, and\ntaking you to be a sheep, will come down upon you, and carry you up\nto the very sky; but let not that frighten you; he will come down\nwith you again, and lay you on the top of a mountain. When you find\nyourself upon the ground, cut the skin with the knife, and throw it\noff. As soon as the roc sees you, he will fly away for fear, and\nleave you at liberty: do not stay, but walk on till you come to a\nprodigious large castle, covered with plates of gold, large\nemeralds, and other precious stones: go up to the gate, which always\nstands open, and walk in: we have been in the castle as long as we\nhave been here; we will tell you nothing of what we saw, or what\nbefel us there: you will learn it yourself; all that we can inform\nyou, is, that it hath cost each of us our right eye, and the penance\nwhich you have been witness to, is what we are obliged to do,\nbecause we have been there. The history of each of us in particular\nis so full of extraordinary adventures, that a large volume would\nnot contain them. But we must explain ourselves no farther.\n\nHere Scheherazade broke off the discourse, and said to the sultan of\nthe Indies, Sir, my sister called upon me this morning sooner than\nordinary; I fear I have wearied your majesty\u2019s patience. But now\nday appears in very good time, and commands my silence.\nSchahriar\u2019s curiosity still prevailed upon him to dispense with\nhis cruel oath.\n\n\n\n\nFIFTY-EIGHTH NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade did not call so early this night as she did the last, yet\nshe called upon the sultaness before day: If you be not asleep,\nsister, pray continue the story of the third calender. Scheherazade\nresumed it thus, personating the calender in his discourse to\nZobeide.\n\nMadam, when the gentleman had ended this discourse, I wrapt myself\nin the sheep\u2019s skin, held fast the knife which was given me; and\nafter those young gentlemen had been at the trouble to sew the skin\nabout me, they retired into the hall, and left me on the spot. The\nroc they spoke of was not long coming; he fell upon me, took me in\nhis talons like a sheep, and carried me up to the top of the\nmountain.\n\nWhen I found myself upon the ground, I made use of the knife, cut\nthe skin, and throwing it off, the roc at the sight of me flew away.\nThis roc 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 the\ntops of mountains, where he feeds upon them.\n\nBeing impatient till I reached the castle, I lost no time; but made\nso much haste that I got thither in half a day\u2019s journey, and I\nmust say that I found it surpassed the description they had given me\nof it.\n\nThe gate being open, I entered into a court that was square, and so\nlarge that there were round it ninety-nine gates of wood of sanders\nand aloes, with one of gold, without reckoning those of several\nmagnificent stair-cases, that led to apartments above, besides many\nmore, which I could not see. The hundred doors which I spoke of\nopened into gardens or store-houses full of riches, or into places\nwhich contained things wonderful to be seen.\n\nI saw a door standing open just before me, through which I entered\ninto a large hall, where I found forty young ladies of such perfect\nbeauty that imagination could not surpass it; they were all most\nsumptuously apparelled; and as soon as they saw me rose up, and\nwithout expecting my compliments, said to me, with demonstrations of\njoy, noble sir, you are very welcome. And one spoke to me in the\nname of the rest, thus: We have been in expectation a long while of\nsuch a gentleman as you: your mien assures us, that you are master\nof all the good qualities we can wish for; and we hope you will not\nfind our company disagreeable or unworthy of your\u2019s.\n\nThey forced me, notwithstanding all the opposition I could make, to\nsit down on a seat that was higher than their own, and though I\nsignified that I was uneasy; That is your place, said they; you are\nat present our lord, master, and judge, and we are your slaves,\nready to obey your commands.\n\nNothing in the world, madam, did so much astonish me as the passion\nand eagerness of those fair ladies to do me all possible service.\nOne brought hot water to wash my feet; a second poured sweet scented\nwater on my hands; others brought me all sorts of necessaries, and\nchange of apparel; others brought in a magnificent collation; and\nthe rest came with glasses in their hands to fill me delicious\nwines, all in good order, and in the most charming manner possible.\nI ate and drank; after which the ladies placed themselves about me,\nand desired an account of my travels. I gave them a full relation of\nmy adventures, which lasted till night came on.\n\nScheherazade making a stop here, her sister asked her the reason. Do\nyou not see it is day? said the sultaness; wherefore did you not\ncall me sooner?\n\nThe sultan, expecting some pleasant adventures from the arrival of\nthe third calender at the palace of the forty ladies, would not\ndeprive himself of the pleasure of hearing them; and therefore again\nput off the death of the sultaness.\n\n\n\n\nFIFTY-NINTH NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade slept as long this night as she did the last; and when it\nwas almost day, she called to the sultaness, Dear sister, if you be\nnot asleep, pray tell us what passed in the fine castle where you\nleft us yesterday. I will, said Scheherazade; and, addressing her\nspeech to the sultan, said, Sir, the calender resumed his narrative\nafter this manner:--\n\nWhen I had made an end of my story, which I related to the forty\nladies, some of them that sat nearest to me staid to keep me\ncompany, whilst the rest, seeing it was dark, rose up to fetch\ntapers. They brought a prodigious quantity, which made such a\nwonderful light, as if it had been day, and they were so properly\ndisposed, that nothing could be more beautiful.\n\nOther ladies covered a table with dry fruits, sweetmeats, and every\nthing proper to relish the liquor; a sideboard was set out with\nseveral sorts of wine and other liquors. Some of the ladies came in\nwith musical instruments; and when every thing was ready, they\ninvited me to sit down to supper. The ladies sat down with me, and\nwe continued a long while at supper. They that were to play upon the\ninstruments and sing rose up, and formed a most charming concert.\nThe others began a sort of ball, and danced two and two, one after\nanother, with a wonderful good grace.\n\nIt was past midnight ere those divertisements ended. At length one\nof the ladies said to me, You are doubtless wearied by the journey\nyou have taken to-day; it is time for you to go to rest --your\nlodging is prepared; but before you depart, make choice of any of\nus you like best to be your bed-fellow. I answered, that I knew\nbetter than to offer to make my own choice, since they were all\nequally beautiful, witty, and worthy of my respects and service,\nand that I would not be guilty of so much incivility as to prefer\none before another.\n\nThe same lady that spoke to me before, answered, We are very well\nsatisfied of your civility, and find you are afraid to create a\njealousy among us, which occasions your modesty: but let not this\nhinder you; we assure you that the good fortune of her whom you\nchoose shall cause no jealousy; for we are agreed among ourselves,\nthat every one of us shall have the same honour till it go round;\nand when forty days are past, to begin again; --therefore make your\nfree choice, and lose no time to go and take the repose you stand in\nneed of. I was obliged to yield to their intreaties, and offered my\nhand to the lady that spoke; she, in return, gave me her\u2019s, and we\nwere conducted to a sumptuous apartment, where they left us; and\nthen every one retired to their own apartment. But day appears, sir,\nsaid Scheherazade to the sultan; and your majesty, I hope, will\npermit me to leave the calender prince with his lady. Schahriar\nreturned no answer, but said to himself, as he got up, I must allow\nthat the story is extraordinary, and I should be very much to blame\nnot to hear it out.\n\n\n\n\nSIXTIETH NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade did not fail about the latter end of the next night to\naddress the sultaness thus: If you be not asleep, sister, pray\nrelate to us the remaining part of the wonderful story of the third\ncalender. --Most willingly, said Scheherazade. The prince continued\nit thus: I was scarce dressed next morning, when the other\nthirty-nine ladies came into my chamber, all in different dresses\nfrom those they had on the day before: they bade me good-morrow, and\ninquired after my health; after which they carried me to a bath,\nwhere they washed me themselves, and whether I would or no, served\nme with every thing I stood in need of; and when I came out of the\nbath, they made me put on another suit much richer than the former.\n\nWe passed the whole day almost constantly at table; and when it was\nbed-time, they prayed me again to make choice of one of them to keep\nme company. In short, madam, not to weary you with repetitions, I\nmust tell you that I continued a whole year among those forty\nladies, and received them into my bed one after another: and during\nall the time of this voluptuous life, we met not with the least kind\nof trouble. When the year was expired, I was strangely surprised\nthat these forty ladies, instead of appearing with their usual\ncheerfulness to ask how I did, entered one morning into my chamber\nall in tears. They embraced me with great tenderness one after\nanother, saying, Adieu, dear prince, adieu! for we must leave you.\nTheir tears affected me; I prayed them to tell me the reason of\ntheir grief, and of the separation they spoke of. For God\u2019s sake,\nfair ladies, let me know, said I, if it be in my power to comfort\nyou, or if my assistance can be any way useful to you. Instead of\nreturning a direct answer, Would to God, said they, we had never\nseen or known you! Several gentlemen have honoured us with their\ncompany before you; but never one of them had that comeliness, that\nsweetness, that pleasantness of humour, and that merit which you\npossess; we know not how to live without you. After they spoke these\nwords, they began to weep bitterly. My dear ladies, said I, be so\nkind as not to keep me in suspense any longer: tell me the cause of\nyour sorrow. --Alas, said they, what but the necessity of parting\nfrom you could be capable of grieving us? It may so happen that we\nshall never see you again; but if you be so minded, and possess\nsufficient self-command, it is not impossible for us to meet again.\n--Ladies, said I, I understand not your meaning; pray explain\nyourselves more clearly.\n\nOh then, said one of them, to satisfy you, we must acquaint you that\nwe are all princesses, daughters of kings: we live here together in\nsuch a manner as you have seen; but at the end of every year we are\nobliged to be absent forty days upon indispensable duties, which we\nare not permitted to reveal; and afterwards we return again to this\ncastle. Yesterday was the last of the year, and we must leave you\nthis day, which is the cause of our grief. Before we depart we will\nleave you the keys of every thing, especially those belonging to the\nhundred doors, where you will find enough to satisfy your curiosity,\nand to sweeten your solitude during our absence: but for your own\nwelfare, and our particular concern in you, we recommend unto you to\nforbear opening the golden door: for if you do we shall never see\nyou again: and the fear of this augments our grief. We hope,\nnevertheless, that you will follow the advice we give you, as you\ntender your own quiet, and the happiness of your life; therefore\ntake heed that you do not give way to indiscreet curiosity, for you\nwill do yourself a considerable prejudice. We conjure you not to\ncommit this fault, but to let us have the satisfaction of finding\nyou here again after forty days. We would willingly carry the key of\nthe golden door along with us; but that it would be an affront to a\nprince like you to question your discretion and modesty.\n--Scheherazade wished to go on; but she saw day appear, and stopped.\nThe sultan being curious to know what the third calender would do\nwhen the forty ladies were gone, and had left him alone in the\ncastle, deferred the hearing of it till next day.\n\n\n\n\nSIXTY-FIRST NIGHT.\n\n\nThe officious Dinarzade being awake long before day, called to the\nsultaness; If you be not asleep, sister, consider that it is time to\ntell the remaining part of the story to our lord the sultan.\nScheherazade, addressing herself to the sultan, said, Sir, your\nmajesty may be pleased to know that the calender pursued his story\nthus:\n\nMadam, said he, this discourse of the fair princesses grieved me\nextremely. I omitted not to make them sensible how much their\nabsence would afflict me. I thanked them for their good advice, and\nassured them that I would follow it, and willingly do what was much\nmore difficult in order to secure the happiness of passing the rest\nof my days with ladies of such rare qualifications. We took leave of\none another with much tenderness, and having embraced them all, they\ndeparted, and I was left alone in the castle.\n\nTheir agreeable company, the good cheer, the concert of music, and\nother pleasures, had so much diverted me during the whole year, that\nI neither had time nor the least desire to see the wonderful things\ncontained in this enchanted palace. I did not so much as take notice\nof a thousand rare objects that were every day in my sight; for I\nwas so occupied with the charming beauty of those ladies, and took\nso much pleasure in seeing them wholly employed to oblige me, that\ntheir departure afflicted me very sensibly; and though their absence\nwas to be only forty days, it seemed to me an age to live without\nthem.\n\nI promised myself not to forget the important advice they had given\nme, not to open the golden door; but as I was permitted to satisfy\nmy curiosity in every thing else, I took the first of the keys of\nthe other doors, which were hung in good order.\n\nI opened the first door, and came into an orchard, which I believe\nthe universe could not equal. I could not imagine any thing that\ncould surpass it, but that which our religion promises us after\ndeath: the symmetry, the neatness, the admirable order of the trees,\nthe abundance and diversity of a thousand sorts of unknown fruits,\ntheir freshness and beauty, ravished my sight.\n\nI ought not to forget, madam, to acquaint you, that this delicious\norchard, was watered after a very particular manner; there were\nchannels so artificially and proportionably dug, that they carried\nwater in abundance to the roots of such trees as wanted it for\nmaking them produce their leaves and flowers. Others carried it to\nthose that had their fruit budded; some carried it in lesser\nquantities to those whose fruits were swelling, and others carried\nonly so much as was just requisite to water those which had their\nfruit come to perfection, and only wanted to be ripened. They far\nexceeded the ordinary fruits of our gardens in bigness. Lastly,\nthose channels that watered the trees, whose fruit was ripe, had no\nmore moisture than just what would preserve them from withering.\n\nI could never be weary of looking at and admiring so sweet a place;\nand I should never have left it, had I not conceived a great idea of\nthe other things which I had not seen. I went out at last with my\nmind filled with those wonders; I shut that door, and opened the\nnext.\n\nInstead of an orchard, I found a flower-garden, which was no less\nextraordinary in its kind. It contained a spacious plot, not watered\nso profusely as the former, but with greater niceness, furnishing no\nmore water than just what each flower required. The roses,\njessamines, violets, daffodills, hyacinths, anemonies, tulips,\ncrows-foots, 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 of this garden.\n\nI opened the third door, where I found a large aviary, paved with\nmarble of several fine uncommon colours. The cage was made of sandal\nwood and wood of aloes. It contained a vast number of nightingales,\ngoldfinches, canary-birds, larks, and other rare singing-birds,\nwhich I never heard of; and the vessels that held their seed and\nwater were of the most precious jasper or agate.\n\nBesides, this aviary was so exceedingly neat, that considering its\nextent, one would think there could not be less than a hundred\npersons to keep it so clean; but all this while not one soul\nappeared, either here or in the gardens where I had been; and yet I\ncould not perceive a weed, or any superfluous thing there. The sun\nwent down, and I retired, charmed with the chirping notes of the\nmultitude of birds, who then began to perch upon such places as\nsuited them to repose on during the night. I went to my chamber,\nresolving to open all the rest of the doors the days following,\nexcepting that of gold.\n\nI failed not to open the fourth door next day, and if what I had\nseen before was capable of surprising me, that which I saw then put\nme in a perfect ecstasy. I went into a large court surrounded with\nbuildings of an admirable structure, the description of which I will\npass by, to avoid prolixity.\n\nThis building had forty doors, all open, and through each of them\nwas an entrance into a treasury, several of which would purchase the\nlargest kingdoms. The first contained heaps of pearls; and, what is\nalmost incredible, the number of those stones which are most\nprecious, and as large as pigeons\u2019 eggs, exceeding the number of\nthose of the ordinary size. In the second treasury there were\ndiamonds, carbuncles, and rubies; in the third, emeralds; in the\nfourth, ingots of gold; in the fifth, money; in the sixth, ingots of\nsilver; in the two following there was also money. The rest\ncontained amethysts, chrysolites, topazes, opals, turquoises, and\nhyacinths, with all the other stones unknown to us, without\nmentioning agate, jasper, cornelian, and coral, of which there was a\nstorehouse filled, not only with branches, but whole trees.\n\nTransported with amazement and admiration, I cried out to myself,\nafter having seen all these riches, If all the treasures of the\nkings of the universe were gathered together in one place, they\ncould not come near this: what good fortune have I to possess all\nthis wealth with so many admirable princesses.\n\nI shall not stay, madam, to tell you the particulars of all the\nother rare and precious things I saw the following days. I shall\nonly say that thirty-nine days afforded me but just as much time as\nwas necessary to open ninety-nine doors, and to admire all that\npresented itself to my view; so that there was only the hundredth\ndoor left, the opening of which was forbidden to me.\n\nDay began to appear in the apartments of the sultan of the Indies,\nwhich imposed silence upon Scheherazade. But Schahriar was too much\ntaken with this pleasing story, not to hear the remainder of it next\nday, and accordingly he got up with that resolution.\n\n\n\n\nSIXTY-SECOND NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade, who had as ardent a desire as Schahriar to hear what\nwonderful things were locked up by the key belonging to the golden\ndoor, called the sultaness very early. If you be not asleep, sister,\npray make an end of that amazing story of the third calender. He\nwent on thus, said Scheherazade; I was come to the fortieth day\nafter the departure of those charming princesses, and had I but\nretained so much power over myself as I ought to have had, I should\nhave been this day the happiest of all mankind, whereas now I am the\nmost unfortunate. They were to return next day, and the pleasure of\nseeing them again ought to have restrained my curiosity: but through\nmy weakness, which I shall ever repent, I yielded to the temptation\nof the evil spirit, who gave me no rest till I had involved myself\nin those misfortunes that I have since suffered.\n\nI opened that fatal door, which I promised not to meddle with, and\nhad not moved my foot to go in, when a smell that was pleasant\nenough, but contrary to my constitution, made me faint away.\nNevertheless, I came to myself again, and instead of taking notice\nof this warning to shut the door, and forbear satisfying my\ncuriosity, I went in, after I had stood some time in the air, to\ncarry off the scent, which did not incommode me any more. I found a\nlarge place, very well vaulted; the pavement was strewed over with\nsaffron; several candlesticks of massy gold, with lighted tapers\nthat smelled of aloes and ambergris, lighted the place; and this\nlight was augmented by lamps of gold and silver, that burnt with oil\nmade of several sorts of sweet-scented materials.\n\nAmong a great many objects that engaged my attention, I perceived a\nblack horse, of the handsomest and best shape that ever was seen. I\nwent nearer, the better to observe him, and found he had a saddle\nand bridle of massy gold, curiously wrought. One side of his trough\nwas filled with clean barley and sesame, and the other with\nrose-water: I took him by the bridle, and led him forth to view him\nby the light; I got on his back, and would have had him move; but he\nnot stirring, I whipped him with a switch I had taken up in his\nmagnificent stable; and he had no sooner felt the stroke, than he\nbegan to neigh with a horrible noise, and extending his wings which\nI had not seen before, he flew up with me into the air, quite out of\nsight. I thought on nothing then but to sit fast; and considering\nthe fear that had seized upon me, I sat very well. He afterwards\nflew down again towards the earth, and lighting upon the terrace of\na castle, without giving me any time to dismount, he shook me out of\nthe saddle with such force, that he threw me behind him, and with\nthe end of his tail struck out mine eye.\n\nThus I became blind of one eye; and then I began to remember the\npredictions of the ten young gentlemen. The horse flew again out of\nsight. I got up very much troubled at the misfortune I had brought\nupon myself; I walked upon the terrace, covering my eye with one of\nmy hands, for it pained me exceedingly, and then came down, and\nentered into a hall, which I knew presently by the ten sofas in a\ncircle, and the eleventh in the middle, lower than the rest, to be\nthe same castle from whence I was taken away by the roc.\n\nThe ten half-blind gentlemen were not in the hall when I came in,\nbut came soon after, with the old man. They were not at all\nsurprised to see me again, nor at the loss of my eye; but said, We\nare sorry that we cannot congratulate you upon your return, as we\ncould have desired; but we are not the cause of your misfortune. --I\nshould be in the wrong to accuse you, said I; for I have drawn it\nupon myself, and I can charge the fault upon no other person. --If\nit be a consolation to the unfortunate, said they, to have\ncompanions, this example may afford us a subject of rejoicing. All\nthat has happened to you, we have also undergone; we tasted all\nsorts of pleasure, during a year successively; and we had continued\nto enjoy the same happiness still, had we not opened the golden\ndoor, when the princesses were absent. You have been no wiser than\nus, and have had likewise the same punishment. We would gladly\nreceive you among us, to perform such penance as we do, though we\nknow not how long it may continue; but we have already declared the\nreasons that hinder us; therefore depart from hence, and go to the\ncourt of Bagdad, where you shall meet with him that can decide your\ndestiny. They told me the way I was to travel, and I left them.\n\nOn the road I caused my beard and eyebrows to be shaven, and assumed\na calender\u2019s habit. I have had a long journey, but at last I\narrived this evening in this city, where I met these my brother\ncalenders at the gate, being strangers as well as myself. We\nwondered much at one another to see we were all three blind of the\nsame eye; but we had not leisure to discourse long of our common\ncalamities. We had only so much time as to come hither, to implore\nthose favours which you have been generously pleased to grant us.\n\nThe third calender having finished this relation of his adventures,\nZobeide addressed her speech to him and his fellow calenders thus:\nGo wherever you think fit; you are all three at liberty. But one of\nthem answered, Madam, we beg you to pardon our curiosity, and permit\nus to hear those gentlemen\u2019s stories, who have not yet spoke. Then\nthe lady turned to that side where the caliph, the vizier Giafar,\nand Mesrour stood, whom she knew not; but said to them, It is now\nyour turn to tell me your adventures, therefore speak.\n\nThe grand vizier Giafar, who had always been the spokesman, answered\nZobeide thus: Madam, in order to obey you, we need only to repeat\nwhat we have said already, before we entered your house. We are\nmerchants of Moussoul, that came to Bagdad to sell our merchandize\nthat lies in the khan where we lodge. We dined to-day with several\nother persons of our profession, at a merchant\u2019s house of this\ncity; who, after he had treated us with choice dainties and\nexcellent wines, sent for men and women dancers, and musicians. The\ngreat noise we made brought in the watch, who arrested some of the\ncompany, and we had the good fortune to escape; but it being already\nlate, and the door of our khan shut up, we knew not whither to\nretire. It was our hap, as we passed along this street, to hear\nmirth at your house, which made us determine to knock at your gate.\nThis is all the account that we can give you, in obedience to your\ncommands.\n\nZobeide having heard this discourse, seemed to hesitate upon what\nshe should say; which the calenders perceiving, prayed her to grant\nthe same favour to the three Moussoul merchants as she had done to\nthem. Well, then, said she, I give my consent, for you shall all be\nequally obliged to me: I pardon you all, provided you depart\nimmediately out of this house, and go whither you please.\n\nZobeide having given this command in a tone that signified she would\nbe obeyed, the caliph, the vizier, Mesrour, the three calenders, and\nthe porter, departed, without saying one word; for the presence of\nthe seven slaves with their weapons kept them in awe. When they were\nout of the house, and the door shut, the caliph said to the\ncalenders, without making himself known, You gentlemen strangers,\nthat are newly come to town, which way do you design to go, since it\nis not yet day? It is that which perplexes us, sir, said they.\nFollow us, replied the caliph, and we will bring you out of danger.\nAfter saying these words, he whispered to the vizier, Take them\nalong with you, and to-morrow morning bring them to me; I will cause\ntheir history to be put in writing, for it deserves a place in the\nannals or my reign.\n\nThe vizier Giafar took the three calenders along with him, the\nporter went to his quarters, and the caliph and Mesrour returned to\nthe palace. The caliph went to bed, but could not get a wink of\nsleep, his spirits were so perplexed by the extraordinary things he\nhad seen and heard: but, above all, he was most concerned to know\nwho Zobeide was, what reason she could have to be so severe to the\ntwo black bitches, and why Amine had her bosom so mortified. Day\nbegan to appear whilst he was thinking upon these things; he arose\nand went to his council-chamber, where he used to give audience, and\nsat upon his throne.\n\nThe grand vizier came in a little after, and paid his respects as\nusual. Vizier, said the caliph, the affairs that we have to consider\nat present are not very pressing; that of the three ladies and the\ntwo black bitches is much more so: my mind cannot be at ease till I\nam thoroughly satisfied in all those matters that have surprised me\nso much. --Go, bring these ladies and the calenders at the same\ntime; make haste, and remember that I impatiently expect your return.\n\nThe vizier, who knew his master\u2019s quick and fiery temper, made\nhaste to obey, and went to the ladies, to whom he communicated, in a\ncivil way, the orders he had to bring them before the caliph,\nwithout taking any notice of what had passed the night before at\ntheir house.\n\nThe ladies put on their veils, and went with the vizier. As he\npassed by his own house, he took the three calenders along with him;\nand they in the mean time, had got notice that they had both seen\nand spoke with the caliph without knowing him. The vizier brought\nthem to the palace with so much diligence, that the caliph was much\npleased. This prince, that he might keep decorum before all the\nofficers of his court who were then present, gave orders that those\nladies should be placed behind the hanging of the door of the room\nnext his bedchamber, and kept by him the three calenders, who, by\ntheir respectful behaviour, gave sufficient proof, that they were\nnot ignorant before whom they had the honour to appear.\n\nWhen the ladies were placed, the caliph turned towards them, and\nsaid, Ladies, when I shall acquaint you that I came last night\ndisguised in a merchant\u2019s habit into your house, it will certainly\nalarm you, and make you fear that you have offended me; and perhaps\nyou believe that I have sent for you for no other purpose but to\nshow some marks of my resentment; but be not afraid; you may rest\nassured that I have forgotten all that has past, and am very well\nsatisfied with your conduct. I wish that all the ladies of Bagdad\nhad as much discretion as you have given proof of before me. I shall\nalways remember the moderation you made use of, after the incivility\nthat we had committed. I was then a merchant of Moussoul, but am at\npresent Haroun Alraschid, the seventh caliph of the glorious house\nof Abbas, that holds the place of our great prophet. I have only\nsent for you to know who you are, and to ask you for what reason one\nof you, after severely whipping the two black bitches, did weep with\nthem? And I am no less curious to know why another of you has her\nbosom so full of scars.\n\nThough the caliph pronounced these words very distinctly, and the\nthree ladies heard him well enough, yet the vizier Giafar did, out\nof ceremony, repeat them over again.\n\nBut, sir, said Scheherazade, it is day; and if your majesty thinks\nfit that I shall go on with the rest of this story, you will be\npleased to prolong my life until to-morrow. The sultan agreed to it,\nknowing that Scheherazade would relate the history of Zobeide, which\nhe had a great desire to hear.\n\n\n\n\nSIXTY-THIRD NIGHT.\n\n\nDear sister, said Dinarzade, about break of day, if you be not\nasleep, pray tell us the story of Zobeide, for, doubtless, that lady\ntold it to the caliph. She certainly did, said Scheherazade, after\nthat prince by his discourse had encouraged her to it. And it was in\nthis manner that she satisfied his curiosity:--\n\n\n\n\nThe story of Zobeide.\n\n\nCommander of the faithful, said she, the relation which I am about\nto give your majesty is one of the strangest that ever was heard.\nThe two black bitches and myself are sisters by the same father and\nmother; and I shall acquaint you by what strange accident they came\nto be metamorphosed. The two ladies who live with me, and are now\nhere, are also my sisters by the father\u2019s side, but by another\nmother; she that has the scars upon her breast is named Amine, the\nother\u2019s name is Safie, and mine Zobeide.\n\nAfter our father\u2019s death, the estate that he left us was equally\ndivided among us; and as soon as these two sisters received their\nportions, they went from me to live with their mother. My other two\nsisters and myself staid with our mother, who was then alive, and\nwhen she died, left each of us a thousand sequins. As soon as we\nreceived our portions, the two elder, (for I am the youngest,) being\nmarried, followed their husbands, and left me alone. Some time\nafter, my eldest sister\u2019s husband sold all that he had, and with\nthat money and my sister\u2019s portion, they went both into Africa,\nwhere her husband, by riotous living and debauchery, spent all; and,\nfinding himself reduced to poverty, he found a pretext for divorcing\nmy sister, and put her away.\n\nShe returned to this city; and, having suffered incredible hardships\nby the way, came to me in so lamentable a condition, that it would\nhave moved the hardest heart to compassion. I received her with all\nthe tenderness she could expect; and, inquiring into the cause of\nher sad condition, she told me with tears how inhumanly her husband\nhad dealt by her. I was so much concerned at her misfortune that it\ndrew tears from my eyes. I put her into a bath, and clothed her with\nmy own apparel, and spoke to her thus: Sister, you are the elder,\nand I esteem you as my mother; during your absence, God has blest\nthe portion that fell to my share, and the employment I follow to\nfeed and bring up silk-worms. Assure yourself there is nothing I\nhave but is at your service, and as much at your disposal as my own.\n\nWe lived very comfortably together for some months; and as we were\noften discoursing together about our third sister, and wondering we\nheard no news of her, she came in as bad a condition as the elder;\nher husband had treated her after the same manner, and I received\nher likewise with the same affection as I had done the former.\n\nSome time after, my two sisters, on pretence that they would not be\nchargeable to me, told me they had thoughts to marry again. I\nanswered them, that if their putting me to charge was all the\nreason, they might lay those thoughts aside, and be very welcome to\nstay with me; for what I had would be sufficient to maintain us all\nthree in a manner answerable to our condition. --But, said I, I\nrather believe you have a mind to marry again; which if you have, I\nam sure it will very much surprise me; after the experience you have\nhad of the small satisfaction there is in wedlock, is it possible\nyou dare venture a second time? You know how rare it is to meet with\na husband that is a real honest man. Believe what I say, and let us\nlive together as comfortable as we can. All my persuasion was in\nvain; they were resolved to marry, and so they did. But after some\nmonths were past, they came back again, and begged my pardon a\nthousand times for not following my advice. You are our youngest\nsister, said they, and abundantly more wise than we; but if you will\nvouchsafe to receive us once more into your house, and account us\nyour slaves, we shall never commit such a fault again. My answer\nwas, Dear sisters, I have not altered my mind in respect to you\nsince we last parted from one another; come again, and take part of\nwhat I have. Upon this I embraced them again, and we lived together\nas we did formerly.\n\nWe continued thus a whole year in perfect love and tranquillity;\nand, seeing that God had increased my small stock, I projected a\nvoyage by sea, to hazard somewhat in trade. To this end I went with\nmy two sisters to Balsora, where I bought a ship ready fitted for\nsea, and laded her with such merchandise as I brought from Bagdad.\nWe set sail with a fair wind, and soon cleared the Persian gulf; and\nwhen we got into the ocean, we steered our course to the Indies, and\nthe twentieth day saw land. --It was a very high mountain, at the\nbottom of which we saw a great town; and, having a fresh gale, we\nsoon reached the harbour, where we cast anchor.\n\nI had not patience to stay till my sisters were dressed to go along\nwith me, but went ashore in the boat by myself; and making directly\nto the gate of the town, I saw there a great number of men upon\nguard, some sitting, and others standing with batons in their hands;\nand they had all such dreadful countenances that it frightened me;\nbut perceiving they had no motion, not so much as with their eyes, I\ntook courage, and went nearer, and then found they were all turned\ninto stones. I entered the town, and passed through the several\nstreets, wherein stood every where men in various attitudes, but all\nmotionless and petrified. On that side where the merchants lived I\nfound most of the shops shut, and in such as were open I likewise\nfound the people petrified. I looked up to the chimnies, but saw no\nsmoke, which made me conjecture that the inhabitants, both within\nand without, were all turned into stone.\n\nBeing come into a vast square, in the heart of the city, I perceived\na great gate, covered with plates of gold, the two leaves of which\nstood open, and a curtain of silk stuff seemed to be drawn before\nit; I also saw a lamp hanging over the gate. After I had well\nconsidered the fabric, I made no doubt but it was the palace of the\nprince who reigned over that country; and being very much astonished\nthat I had not met with one living creature, I went thither in hopes\nto find some. I entered the gate, and was still more surprised when\nI saw none but the guards in the porches, all petrified, some\nstanding, some sitting, and some lying.\n\nI crossed over a large court, where I saw a stately building just\nbefore me, the windows of which were inclosed with gates of massy\ngold. I supposed it to be the queen\u2019s apartment, and went into a\nlarge hall, where there stood several black eunuchs turned into\nstone. I went from thence into a room richly hung and furnished,\nwhere I perceived a lady in the same situation. I knew it to be the\nqueen by the crown of gold that hung over her head, and a necklace\nof pearl about her neck, each of them as big as a nut: I went up\nclose to her to view it, and never beheld a finer sight.\n\nI stood some time, and admired the riches and magnificence of the\nroom; but, above all, the foot-cloth, the cushions, and the sofas,\nwhich were all lined with Indian stuff of gold, with pictures of men\nand beasts, in silver, admirably executed.\n\nScheherazade would have continued longer, but day-light put a stop\nto her discourse. The sultan was highly pleased with the story: I\nmust, said he, as he was getting out of bed, know what all this\nwonderful petrifaction of men will come to.\n\n\n\n\nSIXTY-FOURTH NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade was so extremely pleased with the beginning of this story\nof Zobeide, that she did not fail to call the sultaness before day.\nIf you be not asleep, sister, pray let us know what Zobeide saw more\nin this strange palace. Scheherazade answered, The lady continued\nthe story to the caliph in this manner:--\n\nSir, said she, I went out of the chamber where the petrified queen\nwas, and passed through several other apartments and closets richly\nfurnished, and at last came into a vast large room, where was a\nthrone of massy gold, raised several steps above the floor, and\nenriched with large inchased emeralds, and a bed upon the throne of\nrich stuff, embroidered with pearls. What surprised me more than all\nthe rest was a sparkling light which came from above the bed. Being\ncurious to know from whence it came. I mounted the steps, and,\nlifting up my head, I saw a diamond as big as the egg of an ostrich,\nlying upon a low stool; it was so pure, that I could not find the\nleast blemish in it, and it sparkled so bright, that I could not\nendure the lustre of it when I saw it by day.\n\nOn each side of the bed\u2019s head there stood a lighted flambeau, but\nfor what use I could not comprehend; however, it made me imagine\nthat there was some living creature in this place, for I could not\nbelieve that these torches continued thus burning of themselves.\nSeveral other rarities detained my curiosity in this room, which was\ninestimable, were it only for the diamond I mentioned.\n\nThe doors being all open, or but half shut, I surveyed some other\napartments, that were as fine as those I had already seen. I looked\ninto the offices and store-rooms, which were full of infinite\nriches, and I was so much taken with the sight of all the wonderful\nthings, that I forgot myself, and did not think on my ship or my\nsisters; my whole design was to satisfy my curiosity: mean time\nnight came on, which put me in mind that it was time to retire. I\nwas for returning the same way I came in, but I could not find it; I\nlost myself among the apartments; and finding I was come back again\nto that large room where the throne, the couch, the large diamond,\nand the torches stood, I resolved to take my night\u2019s lodging\nthere, and to depart the next morning betimes, to get aboard my\nship. I laid myself down upon the couch, not without some dread to\nbe alone in a desolate place; and this fear hindered my sleep.\n\nAbout midnight I heard a voice like that of a man reading the Koran,\nafter the same manner, and in the same tone which we read in our\nmosque. Being extremely glad to hear it, I got up immediately, and\ntaking a torch in my hand to light me, I passed from one chamber to\nanother, on that side where the voice came from: I came to the\ncloset door, where I stood still, nowise doubting that it came from\nthence. I set down my torch upon the ground, and looking through a\nwindow, I found it to be an oratory. In short, it had, as we have in\nour mosques, a niche that shows where we must turn to say our\nprayers; there were also lamps hung up, and the two candlesticks\nwith large 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 upon this\ncarpet, reading with great devotion the Koran, which lay before him\nupon a desk. At the sight of this I was transported with admiration.\nI wondered how it came to pass that he should be the only living\ncreature in a town where all the people were turned into stones, and\nI did not doubt but there was something in it very extraordinary.\n\nThe door being only half shut, I opened it and went in, and standing\nupright before the niche, I said this prayer aloud; \u201cPraise be to\nGod, who has favoured us with a happy voyage, and may he be\ngraciously pleased to protect us in the same manner, until we arrive\nagain in our own country. Hear me, O Lord, and grant my request.\u201d\n\nThe young man cast his eyes upon me, and said, My good lady, pray\nlet me know who you are, and what has brought you to this desolate\ncity? And in return I will tell you who I am, what happened to me,\nwhy the inhabitants of this city are reduced to that state you see\nthem in, and why I alone am safe and sound in the midst of such a\nterrible disaster.\n\nI told him in few words from whence I came, what made me undertake\nthe voyage, and how I safely arrived at the port after twenty\ndays\u2019 sailing; and when I had done, I prayed him to perform his\npromise, and told him how much I was struck by the frightful\ndesolation which I had seen in all places as I came along.\n\nMy dear lady, said the young man, have patience for a moment. At\nthese words he shut the Koran, put it into a rich case, and laid it\nin the niche. I took that opportunity to observe him, and perceived\nso much good nature and beauty in him, that I felt such strange\nemotions in myself as I had never done before. He made me sit down\nby him; and before he began his discourse, I could not forbear\nsaying to him, with an air that discovered the sentiments I was\ninspired with, Amiable sir, dear object of my soul, I can scarce\nhave patience to wait for an account of all those wonderful things\nthat I have seen since the first time I came into your city; and my\ncuriosity cannot be satisfied too soon; therefore, pray sir, let me\nknow by what miracle you alone are left alive among so many persons\nthat have died in so strange a manner.\n\nScheherazade broke off here, and said to Schahriar, Sir, perhaps\nyour majesty does not perceive it is day; should I continue my\ndiscourse any longer, I should trespass on your patience. The sultan\ngot up, resolving next night to hear the remainder of this wonderful\nstory.\n\n\n\n\nSIXTY-FIFTH NIGHT.\n\n\nIf you be not asleep, sister, said Dinarzade, next morning, before\nit was day, I would pray you to resume the story of Zobeide, and\nacquaint us with what passed between her and the young man that she\nfound alive in the palace you gave us so fine a description of. --I\nwill immediately satisfy you, said the sultaness. Zobeide went on\nwith her story thus:\n\nMadam, said the young man, you have given me to understand you have\na knowledge of the true God, by the prayer you just now addressed to\nhim. I will acquaint you with the most remarkable effect of his\ngreatness and power. You must know, that this city was the\nmetropolis of a mighty kingdom, over which the king my father did\nreign. That prince, his whole court, the inhabitants of the city,\nand all his other subjects, were magi, worshippers of fire, and of\nNardoun, the ancient king of the giants, who rebelled against God.\n\nAnd though I was begotten and born of an idolatrous father and\nmother, I had the good fortune in my youth to have a governess who\nwas a good mussulman; I had the Koran by heart, and understood the\nexplanation of it perfectly well. Dear prince, would she oftentimes\nsay, there is but one true God; take heed that you do not\nacknowledge and adore any other. She taught me to read Arabic, and\nthe book she gave me to preach upon was the Koran. As soon as I was\ncapable of understanding it, she explained to me all the heads of\nthis excellent book, and infused piety into my mind, unknown to my\nfather, or any body else. She happened to die, but not before she\nhad perfectly instructed me in all that was necessary to convince me\nof the mussulman religion. After her death, I persisted with\nconstancy in the belief I was in; and I abhor the false god Nardoun,\nand the adoration of fire.\n\nIt is about three years and some months ago, that a thundering voice\nwas heard all of a sudden so distinctly through the whole city, that\nnobody could miss hearing it. The words were these: \u2018Inhabitants,\nabandon the worship of Nardoun, and of fire, and worship the only\nGod that shows mercy.\u2019\n\nThis voice was heard three years successively, but nobody was\nconverted; so the last day of the year, at four o\u2019clock in the\nmorning, all the inhabitants in general were changed in an instant\ninto stone, every one in the same condition and posture they\nhappened to be then in. The king, my father, had the same fate, for\nhe was metamorphosed into a black stone, as he is to be seen in this\npalace; and the queen, my mother, had the like destiny.\n\nI am the only person that did not suffer under that heavy judgment,\nand ever since I have continued to serve God with more fervency than\nbefore. I am persuaded, dear lady, that he has sent you hither for\nmy comfort, for which I render him infinite thanks; for I must own\nthat this solitary life is very uneasy.\n\nAll these expressions, and particularly the last, increased my love\nto him extremely. Prince, said I, there is no doubt but Providence\nhath brought me into your port, to present you with an opportunity\nof withdrawing from this dismal place. The ship that I came in may\nin some measure persuade you that I am in some esteem at Bagdad,\nwhere I have left also a considerable estate; and I dare engage to\npromise you sanctuary there, until the mighty commander of the\nfaithful, who is vice-regent to our prophet, whom you acknowledge,\nshow you the honour that is due to your merit. This renowned prince\nlives at Bagdad, and as soon as he is informed of your arrival in\nhis capital, you will find that it is not in vain to implore his\nassistance. It is impossible you can stay any longer in a city where\nall the objects you see must renew your grief: my vessel is at your\nservice, where you may absolutely command as you shall think fit. He\naccepted the offer, and we discoursed the remaining part of the\nnight about our embarkment.\n\nAs soon as it was day we left the palace, and came aboard my ship,\nwhere we found my sisters, the captain, and the slaves, all very\nmuch troubled for my absence. After I had presented my sisters to\nthe prince, I told them what had hindered my return to the vessel\nthe day before, how I had met with the young prince, his story, and\nthe cause of the desolation of so fine a city.\n\nThe seamen were taken up several days in unlading the merchandise I\nbrought along with me, and embarking, instead of that, all the\nprecious things in the palace, as jewels, gold, and money. We left\nthe furniture and goods, which consisted of an infinite quantity of\nplate, &c. because our vessel could not carry it, for it would have\nrequired several vessels more to carry all the riches to Bagdad that\nwe might have chosen to take with us.\n\nAfter we had laded the vessel with what we thought fit, we took such\nprovisions and water aboard as were necessary for our voyage (for we\nhad still a great deal of those provisions left that we had taken in\nat Balsora:) at last we set sail with a wind as favourable as we\ncould wish.\n\nHere Scheherazade saw day, and stopped her discourse; the sultan\narose without speaking a word; but he proposed to himself to hear\nthe end of Zobeide\u2019s story, and the wonderful deliverance of this\nyoung prince.\n\n\n\n\nSIXTY-SIXTH NIGHT.\n\n\nWhen the ensuing night was almost past, Dinarzade, impatient to know\nthe success of Zobeide\u2019s voyage, called the sultaness: My dear\nsister, day begins to break; for God\u2019s sake continue the story of\nyesternight, and tell us whether the prince and Zobeide arrived safe\nat Bagdad. I will, said Scheherazade.\n\nZobeide, addressing herself to the caliph, went on thus:\n\nSir, said she, the young prince, my sisters, and myself, enjoyed\nourselves for some time very agreeably: but alas! this good\nunderstanding did not last long, for my sisters grew jealous of the\nfriendship between the prince and me, and maliciously asked me one\nday, what we should do with him when we came to Bagdad? I perceived\nimmediately that they put this question to me on purpose to discover\nmy inclinations; therefore resolving to put it off with a jest, I\nanswered them, I will take him for my husband; and upon that,\nturning myself to the prince, Sir, I humbly beg of you to give your\nconsent; for as soon as we come to Bagdad, I design to offer you my\nperson to be your slave, to do you all the service that is in my\npower, and to resign myself wholly to your commands.\n\nThe prince answered, I know not, madam, whether you be in jest or\nno; but for my own 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 actions. At\nthese words my sisters changed colour, and I could perceive\nafterwards that they did not love me as formerly.\n\nWe were come into the Persian gulf, and not far from Balsora, where\nI hoped, considering the fair wind, we might have arrived the day\nfollowing; but in the night, when I was asleep, my sisters watched\ntheir time, and threw me overboard. They did the same to the prince,\nwho was drowned. I swam some minutes on the water; but by good\nfortune, or rather miracle, I felt ground. I went towards a black\nplace, that, by what I could discern in the dark, seemed to be land,\nand actually was a flat on the coast; which, when day came, I found\nto be a desert island, lying about twenty miles from Balsora. I soon\ndried my clothes in the sun; and as I walked along, I found several\nsorts of fruit, and likewise fresh water, which gave me some hopes\nof preserving my life.\n\nI laid myself down in a shade, and soon after I saw a winged\nserpent, very large and long, coming towards me, wriggling to the\nright and to the left, and hanging out his tongue, which made me\nthink he had got some hurt. I arose, and saw a larger serpent\nfollowing him, holding him by the tail, and endeavouring to devour\nhim. I had compassion on him, and instead of flying away, I had the\nboldness and courage to take up a stone that by chance lay by me,\nand threw it with all my strength at the great serpent, whom I hit\non the head and killed him. The other, finding himself at liberty,\ntook to his wings and flew away. I looked a long while after him in\nthe air, as an extraordinary thing; but he flew out of sight, and I\nlay down again in another place in the shade, and fell asleep.\n\nWhen I awaked, judge how I was surprised to see by me a black woman,\nof a lively and agreeable complexion, who held tied together in her\nhand, two bitches of the same colour. I sat up and asked her who she\nwas. I am, said she, the serpent whom you delivered not long since\nfrom my mortal enemy. I knew not how to acknowledge the great\nkindness you did me, but by doing what I have done. I knew the\ntreachery of your sisters, and to avenge you on them, as soon as I\nwas set at liberty by your generous assistance, I called several of\nmy companions together, fairies like myself. We have carried into\nyour storehouses at Bagdad all your lading that was in your vessel,\nand afterwards sunk it.\n\nThese two black bitches are your sisters, whom I have transformed\ninto this shape, but this punishment is not sufficient; for I will\nhave you treat them in such a manner as I shall direct.\n\nAt those words the fairy took me fast under one of her arms, and the\ntwo bitches in the other, and carried me to my house in Bagdad,\nwhere I found in my storehouses all the riches which were laden on\nboard my vessel. Before she left me, she delivered me the two\nbitches, and told me, If you will not be changed into a bitch as\nthey are, I ordain you, in the name of him that governs the sea, to\ngive each of your sisters every night a hundred lashes with a rod,\nfor the punishment of the crime they have committed against your\nperson, and the young prince whom they drowned. I was forced to\npromise that I would obey her order. Since that time I have whipped\nthem every night, though with regret, whereof your majesty has been\na witness, I give evidence by my tears with how much sorrow and\nreluctance I must perform this cruel duty; and in this your majesty\nmay see I am more to be pitied than blamed. If there be any thing\nelse, with relation to myself, that you desire to be informed of, my\nsister Amine will give you the full discovery of it, by the relation\nof her story.\n\n[Illustration: ZOBEIDE AFTER RESCUING THE FAIRY.]\n\nAfter the caliph had heard Zobeide with a great deal of\nastonishment, he desired his grand vizier to pray fair Amine to\nacquaint him wherefore her breast was marked with so many scars.\n\nBut, sir, said Scheherazade, it is day, and I dare not detain your\nmajesty any longer. Schahriar being persuaded that the story which\nScheherazade was to relate would explain the former, said to\nhimself, I must have the pleasure of hearing this story out: upon\nwhich he arose, and resolved that Scheherazade should live one day\nlonger.\n\n\n\n\nSIXTY-SEVENTH NIGHT.\n\n\nDinarzade longed to hear the story of Amine, and therefore waked the\nsultaness a long while before day, saying, Dear sister, pray let us\nknow why fair Amine had her breast so covered with scars. --I\nconsent to it, said the sultaness; and that no time may be lost, you\nmay know that Amine addressed herself to the caliph, and began her\nstory after this manner:\n\n\n\n\nThe story of Amine.\n\n\nCommander of the faithful, said she, to avoid repeating what your\nmajesty has already heard by my sister\u2019s story, I shall only add,\nthat after my mother had taken a house for herself to live in during\nher widowhood, she gave me in marriage, with the portion my father\nleft me, to a gentleman that had one of the best estates in the city.\n\nI had scarce been a year married, when I became a widow, and was\nleft in possession of all my husband\u2019s estate, which amounted to\nninety thousand sequins. The interest of this money was sufficient\nto maintain me very honourably. In the mean time, when my first six\nmonths\u2019 mourning was over, I caused to be made me ten suits of\nclothes, very rich, so that each suit came to a thousand sequins;\nand when the year was past, I began to wear them.\n\nOne day as I was busy alone about my domestic affairs, I was told\nthat a lady desired to speak to me. I ordered her to be brought in.\nShe was a person advanced in years: she saluted me by kissing the\nground, and told me, kneeling, dear lady, excuse the freedom I take\nto trouble you; the confidence I have in your charity makes me thus\nbold. I must acquaint your ladyship, that I have an orphan daughter,\nwho is to be married this day: she and I are both strangers, and\nhave no acquaintance in this town; which much perplexes me, for we\nwish the numerous family with whom we are going to ally ourselves to\nthink we are not altogether strangers, and without credit;\ntherefore, most beautiful lady, if you would vouchsafe to honour the\nwedding with your presence, we shall be infinitely obliged to you,\nbecause the ladies of your country will then know that we are not\nlooked upon here as despicable wretches, when they shall come to\nunderstand that a lady of your quality did us that honour. But alas,\nmadam, if you refuse this request, we shall be altogether disgraced,\nand dare not address ourselves to any other.\n\nThis poor woman\u2019s discourse, mixed with tears, moved my\ncompassion. Good woman, said I, do not afflict yourself; I am\nwilling to grant you the favour you desire; tell me what place I\nmust come to, and I will meet you as soon as I am dressed. The old\nwoman was so transported with joy at my answer, that she kissed my\nfeet without my being able to hinder it. Good charitable lady, said\nshe, rising up, God will reward the kindness you have showed to your\nservants, and make your heart as joyful as you have made theirs. It\nis too soon yet to give yourself that trouble: it will be time\nenough when I come to call you in the evening. So farewell, madam,\nsaid she, 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 pearl, bracelets, pendents in my ears, and rings\nset with the finest and most sparkling diamonds; for my mind\npresaged what would befal me.\n\nWhen night drew on, the old woman came to call 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 ladies\nof the town, are now met together; you may come when you please, I\nam ready to wait on you. We went immediately, she going before, and\nI followed her, with a good number of my maids and slaves, very well\ndressed. We stopt in a wide street, newly swept and watered, at a\nspacious gate with a lantern before it, by the light of which I\ncould read this inscription over the gate in golden letters: \u201cHere\nis the abode of everlasting pleasures and content.\u201d The old woman\nknocked, and the gate was opened immediately.\n\nThey brought me to the lower end of the court, into a large hall,\nwhere I was received by a young lady of admirable beauty. She came\nup to me, and after having embraced me, she made me sit down by her\nupon a sofa, where there was a throne of precious wood, set with\ndiamonds. Madam, said she, you are brought hither to assist at a\nwedding; but I hope this marriage will prove otherwise than what you\nexpected. I have a brother, one of the handsomest men in the world:\nhe is fallen so much in love with the fame of your beauty, that his\nfate depends wholly upon you, and he will be the unhappiest of men\nif you do not take pity on him. He knows your quality, and I can\nassure you he is in nowise unworthy of your alliance. If my prayers,\nmadam, can prevail, I shall join them with his, and humbly beg you\nwill not refuse the offer of being his wife.\n\nAfter the death of my husband, I had no thought of marrying again:\nbut I had no power to refuse the offer made by so charming a lady.\nAs soon as I had given consent by silence, accompanied with a blush,\nthe young lady clapt her hands; and immediately a closet door\nopened, out of which came a young man of a majestic air, and so\ngraceful a behaviour, that I thought myself happy to have made so\ngreat a conquest. He sat down by me, and by the discourse we had\ntogether, I found that his merits far exceeded the account his\nsister had given me of him. When she saw that we were satisfied with\none another, she clapt her hands a second time, and out came a cadi,\nor scrivener, who wrote our contract of marriage, signed it himself,\nand caused it to be attested by four witnesses he brought along with\nhim. The only thing that my new spouse made me promise, was, that I\nshould not be seen by nor speak with any other man but himself; and\nhe vowed to me, upon that condition, that I should have no reason to\ncomplain of him. Our marriage was concluded and finished after this\nmanner; so I became the principal actress in a wedding whereunto I\nwas only invited as a guest.\n\nAfter we had been married a month, I had occasion for some stuffs. I\nasked my husband\u2019s leave to go out and buy them, which he granted;\nand I took that old woman along with me, of whom I spoke before, she\nbeing one of the family, and two of my own female slaves.\n\nWhen we came to the street where the merchants dwell, the old woman\ntold me, Dear mistress, since you want silk stuffs, I must carry you\nto a young merchant of my acquaintance: he has of all sorts, and it\nwill prevent your wearying yourself by going from one shop to\nanother. I can assure you that he is able to furnish you with that\nwhich nobody else can. I was easily persuaded, and we entered into a\nshop belonging to a young merchant who was tolerably handsome. I sat\ndown, and bade the old woman desire him to show me the finest silk\nstuffs he had. The woman bade me speak myself; but I told her it was\none of the articles of my marriage contract, not to speak to any man\nbut 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 the\nold woman, I will not sell it for gold or money, but I will make her\na present of it, if she will give me leave to kiss her cheek. I\nordered the old woman to tell him that he was very rude to propose\nsuch a thing; but instead of obeying me, she said, What the merchant\ndesires of you is no such great matter; you need not speak, but only\npresent him your cheek, and the business will soon be done. The\nstuff pleased me so much that I was foolish enough to take her\nadvice. The old woman and my slaves stood up, that nobody should\nsee, and I put up my veil; but instead of a kiss, the merchant bit\nme till the blood came.\n\nThe pain and surprise were so great, that I fell down in a swoon,\nand continued in it so long, that the merchant had time to shut his\nshop, and fly for it. When I came to myself, I found my cheek all\nbloody; the old woman and my slaves took care to cover it with my\nveil, that the people who came about us could not perceive it, but\nsupposed it to be only a fainting fit.\n\nScheherazade, as she spoke these words, perceived day, and held her\npeace. The sultan finding the story both extraordinary and pleasant,\nrose up, with a design to hear the rest of it.\n\n\n\n\nSIXTY-EIGHTH NIGHT.\n\n\nWhen next night was near at an end, Dinarzade awaked and called to\nthe sultaness, If you please, sister, pray continue the story of\nAmine. Scheherazade answered, the lady resumed it thus:\n\nThe old woman who was with me, being extremely troubled at this\naccident, endeavoured to comfort me; My dear mistress, said she, I\nbeg your pardon, for I am the cause of this misfortune, having\nbrought you to this merchant, because he is my countryman; but I\nnever thought he would be guilty of such a villanous action. But do\nnot grieve: let us make haste to go home; I will give you a medicine\nthat shall perfectly cure you in three day\u2019s time, so that the\nleast mark shall not be seen. The fit had made me so weak that I was\nscarce able to walk: but at last I got home, where I had a second\nfit, as I went into the chamber. Meanwhile, the old woman applied\nher remedy, so that I came to myself, and went to bed.\n\nMy husband came to me at night, and seeing my head bound up, asked\nme the reason. I told him I had the head-ache, and hoped he would\ninquire no further; but he took a candle, and saw my cheek was hurt.\nHow comes this wound? said he. And though I was not very guilty, yet\nI could not think of owning the thing; besides, to make such a\nconfession to a husband, I thought was somewhat indecent; therefore\nI told him, That as I was going to seek for that stuff you gave me\nleave to buy, a porter carrying a load of wood came so close by me,\nas I went through a narrow street, that one of the sticks gave me a\nrub on the cheek; but it is not much hurt. This put my husband in\nsuch a passion, that he vowed he should not go unpunished; for I\nwill to-morrow give orders to the lieutenant of the police to seize\nupon all those brutes of porters, and cause them to be hanged. Being\nafraid to occasion the death of so many innocent persons, I told\nhim, Sir, I should be sorry that so great a piece of injustice\nshould be committed. Pray do not do it; for I should deem myself\nunpardonable if I were the cause of so much mischief. Then tell me\nsincerely, said he, how came you by this wound? I answered, That it\ncame through the inadvertency of a broom-seller upon an ass, who\ncoming behind me, and looking another way, his ass gave me such a\npush that I fell down, and hurt my cheek upon some glass. --Is it\nso? said my husband; then to-morrow morning, before sun-rising, the\ngrand vizier Giafar shall have an account of this insolence, and he\nshall cause all the broom-sellers to be put to death. --For the love\nof God, sir, said I, let me beg of you to pardon them, for they are\nnot guilty. --How, madam, said he, what is it I must believe? Speak,\nfor I am absolutely resolved to know the truth from your own mouth.\n--Sir, said I, I was taken with a giddiness in my head, and fell\ndown, and that is the whole matter.\n\nAt these last words, my husband lost all patience. Oh! cried he, I\nhave given ear to your lies too long; with that, clapping his hands,\nin came three slaves: Pull her out of bed, said he, and lay her in\nthe middle of the floor. The slaves obeyed his orders, one holding\nme by the head, and another by the feet: he commanded a third to\nfetch him a scimitar; and when he had brought it, Strike, said he;\ncut her in two in the middle, and then throw her into the Tigris to\nfeed the fishes. This is the punishment I give to those to whom I\nhave given my heart, if they falsify their promise. When he saw that\nthe slave made no haste to obey his orders, Why do you not strike?\nsaid he. Who is it that holds you? What are you waiting for?\n\nMadam, then said the slave, you are near the last moments of your\nlife; consider if you have any thing to dispose of before you die. I\nbegged leave to speak one word, which was granted me. I lifted up my\nhead, and looking wistfully to my husband, Alas! said I, to what\ncondition am I reduced! must I then die in the prime of my youth? I\ncould say no more, for my tears and sighs prevented me. My husband\nwas not at all moved, but, on the contrary, went on to reproach me;\nso that to have made answer would have been in vain. I had recourse\nto entreaties and prayers; but he had no regard to them, and\ncommanded the slaves to proceed to execution. The old woman who had\nbeen his nurse came in just at that moment, fell down upon her\nknees, and endeavoured to appease his wrath. My son, said she, since\nI have been your nurse, and brought you up, let me beg the favour of\nyou to grant me her life; consider that he who kills shall be\nkilled, and that you will stain your reputation, and lose the esteem\nof mankind. What will the world say of such a bloody rage? She spoke\nthese words in such an affecting manner, accompanied with tears,\nthat she prevailed upon him at last.\n\nWell then, said he to his nurse, for your sake I will spare her\nlife; but she shall carry some marks along with her to make her\nremember the crime. With that, one of the slaves, by his order, gave\nme so many blows as hard as he could strike, with a little cane,\nupon my sides and breast, that he fetched both skin and flesh away,\nso that I lay senseless. After that he caused the same slaves, the\nexecutioners of his fury, to carry me into a house, where the old\nwoman took care of me. I kept my bed four months; at last I\nrecovered; the scars you saw yesterday, against my will, have\nremained ever since.\n\nAs soon as I was able to walk, and go abroad, I resolved to go to\nthe house which was my own by my first husband, but I could not find\nthe place. My second husband, in the heat of his wrath, was not\ncontent to have razed it to the ground, but caused all the street\nwhere it stood to be pulled down. I believe such a violent\nproceeding was never heard of before; but against whom should I make\nmy complaint? The author had taken such care that he was not to be\nfound, neither could I know him again if I saw him; and suppose I\nhad known him, is it not easily seen that the treatment I met with\nproceeded from absolute power? How then dared I make any complaint?\n\nBeing desolate, and unprovided of every thing, I had recourse to my\ndear sister Zobeide, who gave your majesty just now an account of\nher adventures; to her I made known my misfortune; she received me\nwith her accustomed goodness, and advised me to bear it with\npatience. This is the way of the world, said she, which either robs\nus of our means, our friends, or our lovers, and oftentimes of all\nat once. And at the same time, to confirm what she had said, she\ngave me an account of the loss of the young prince, occasioned by\nthe jealousy of her two sisters; she told me also by what accident\nthey were transformed into bitches; and in the last place, after a\nthousand testimonials of her love towards me, she showed me my\nyoungest sister, who had likewise taken sanctuary with her after the\ndeath of her mother.\n\nThus we gave God thanks, who had brought us together again,\nresolving to live a single life, and never to separate any more, for\nwe have enjoyed this peaceable way of living a great many years; and\nas it was my business to mind the affairs of the house, I always\ntook pleasure to go myself, and buy in what we wanted. I happened to\ngo abroad yesterday, and the things I bought I caused to be brought\nhome by a porter, who proved to be a sensible and jocose fellow, and\nwe kept him with us for a little diversion. Three calenders happened\nto come to our door as it began to grow dark, and prayed us to give\nthem shelter till the next morning. We gave them entrance, but upon\ncertain conditions, which they agreed unto; and after we had made\nthem sit down at the table by us, they gave us a concert of music\nafter their fashion, and at the same time we heard knocking at our\ngate. These were the three merchants of Moussoul, men of a very good\nmien, who begged the same favour which the calenders had obtained\nbefore. We consented to it upon the same conditions, but neither of\nthem kept their promise; and though we had power as well as justice\non our side to punish them, yet we contented ourselves with\ndemanding from them the history of their lives, and consequently\nconfined our revenge to dismissing them after they had done, and\ndepriving them of the lodging they requested.\n\nThe caliph Haroun Alraschid was very well satisfied with these\nstrange stories, and declared publicly his astonishment at what he\nhad heard.\n\nBut, sir, said Scheherazade, day begins to break; so that I have not\ntime to acquaint your majesty what the caliph did to put an end to\nthe enchantment of the two black bitches. Schahriar supposing that\nthe sultaness would finish the story of the five ladies and the\nthree calenders the next night, rose up, and suffered her to live\ntill next morning.\n\n\n\n\nSIXTY-NINTH NIGHT.\n\n\nFor the love of heaven, sister, said Dinarzade, before it was day,\nif you be not asleep, tell us how the two black bitches were brought\nto their former shape, and what became of the three calenders. --I\nwill satisfy your curiosity, said Scheherazade. Then addressing her\ndiscourse to Schahriar, she pursued it thus:\n\nSir, the caliph having satisfied his curiosity, thought himself\nobliged to give some marks of grandeur and generosity to the\ncalender princes, and also to give the three ladies some proofs of\nhis bounty. He himself, without making use of his minister, the\ngrand vizier, spoke to Zobeide: Madam, this fairy, that shewed\nherself to you in the shape of a serpent, and imposed such a\nrigorous command upon you, did she not tell you where her place of\nabode was? Or rather, did she not promise to see you, and restore\nthose bitches to their natural shape?\n\nCommander of the faithful, answered Zobeide, I forgot to tell your\nmajesty, that the fairy left with me a bundle of hair, saying\nwithal, that her presence would one day be of use to me; and then,\nif I only burnt two tufts of this hair, she would be with me in a\nmoment, though she were beyond mount Caucasus. --Madam, said the\ncaliph, where is the bundle of hair? She answered, ever since that\ntime, I have had such a particular care of it, that I always carry\nit about me. Upon which she pulled it out, just opened the case\nwhere it was, and showed it to him. Well then, said the caliph, let\nus make the fairy come hither; you could not call her in a better\ntime, for I long to see her.\n\nZobeide having consented to it, fire was brought in, and she threw\nthe whole bundle of hair into it. The palace began to shake at that\nvery instant, and the fairy appeared before the caliph, in the shape\nof a lady very richly dressed.\n\nCommander of the faithful, said she to the prince, you see I am\nready to come and receive your commands. The lady who gave me this\ncall by your order did me a particular piece of service; to make my\ngratitude appear, I revenged her of her sisters inhumanity by\nchanging them into bitches; but if your majesty commands it, I will\nrestore them to their former shape.\n\nHandsome fairy, said the caliph, you cannot do me a greater\npleasure; vouchsafe them that favour, and after that I will find\nsome means to comfort them for their hard penance. But besides, I\nhave another boon to ask in favour of that lady, who has had such\ncruel usage from an unknown husband; and as you undoubtedly know a\ngreat many things, we have reason to believe that you cannot be\nignorant of this. Oblige me with the name of this barbarous fellow,\nwho could not be contented to exercise his barbarous cruelty upon\nher person, but has also most unjustly taken from her all her\nsubstance. I only wonder how such an unjust and inhuman action could\nbe performed in spite of my authority, and not come to my ears.\n\nTo oblige your majesty, answered the fairy, I will restore the two\nbitches to their former state, and I will so cure the lady of her\nscars, that it shall never appear she was so beaten; and at last I\nwill tell you who it was that did it.\n\nThe caliph sent for the two bitches from Zobeide\u2019s house; and when\nthey came a glass of water was brought to the fairy by her desire;\nshe pronounced over it some words, which nobody understood; then\nthrowing some part of it upon Amine, and the rest upon the bitches,\nthe latter became two ladies of surprising beauty, and the scars\nthat were upon Amine vanished away. After which, the fairy said to\nthe caliph, Commander of the faithful, I must now discover to you\nthe unknown husband you inquire after; he is very near related to\nyourself, for it is prince Amin, your eldest son, who falling\npassionately in love with this lady, by the fame he had heard of her\nbeauty, by an intrigue got her brought to his house, where he\nmarried her. As to the strokes he caused to be given her, he is in\nsome measure excusable; for the lady, his spouse, had been a little\ntoo easy, and the excuses she had made were capable of making him\nbelieve she was more faulty than she really was. This is all I can\nsay to satisfy your curiosity; and at these words she saluted the\ncaliph, and vanished.\n\nThe prince being filled with admiration, and having much\nsatisfaction in the changes that had happened through his means, did\nsuch things as will perpetuate his memory to all ages. First, he\nsent for his son Amin, and told him that he was informed of his\nsecret marriage, and how he had wounded Amine upon a very slight\ncause. Upon this the prince did not wait for his father\u2019s\ncommands, but received her again immediately.\n\nAfter which the caliph declared that he would give his own heart and\nhand to Zobeide, and offered the other three sisters to the\ncalenders, who were sons of kings, who accepted them for their\nbrides with much joy. The caliph assigned each of them a magnificent\npalace in the city of Bagdad, promoted them to the highest dignities\nof his empire, and admitted them to his counsels.\n\nThe town-clerk of Bagdad being called, with witnesses, wrote the\ncontracts of marriage; and the famous caliph Haroun Alraschid, by\nmaking the fortune of so many persons that had suffered such\nincredible calamities, drew a thousand blessings upon himself.\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of Sindbad, the Sailor.\n\n\nDinarzade having awakened her sister the sultaness, as usual, and\nprayed her to tell another story, Scheherazade asked leave of the\nsultan, and having obtained it, began thus:\n\nSir, in the reign of the same caliph Haroun Alraschid, whom I\nformerly mentioned, there lived at Bagdad a poor porter called\nHindbad. [4] 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 very weary, and having still a great way to go, he came\ninto a street where a delicate western breeze blew on his face, and\nthe pavement of the street being sprinkled with rose-water, he could\nnot desire a better place to rest in; therefore, laying off his\nburden, he sat down by it, near a great house.\n\nHe was mightily pleased that he stopt in this place, for an\nagreeable smell of wood of aloes, and of pastils, that came from the\nhouse, mixing with the scent of rose-water, did completely perfume\nand embalm the air; besides, he heard from within a concert of\nseveral sorts of instrumental music, accompanied with the harmonious\nnotes of nightingales, and other birds, peculiar to that climate.\nThis charming melody, and the smell of several sorts of victuals,\nmade the porter think there was a feast, and great rejoicings within.\n\nHis occasions leading him seldom that way, he knew not who dwelt in\nthe house; but to satisfy his curiosity, he went to some of the\nservants, whom he saw standing at the gate in magnificent apparel,\nand asked the name of the master of the house. How, replied one of\nthem, do you live in Bagdad, and know not that this is the house of\nSignor Sindbad, the sailor, that famous traveller, who has sailed\nround the world?\n\nThe porter, who had heard of this Sindbad\u2019s riches, could not but\nenvy a man whose condition he thought to be as happy as his own was\ndeplorable; and his mind being fretted with those reflections, he\nlifted up his eyes to heaven, and said, loud enough to be heard,\nAlmighty Creator of all things, consider the difference between\nSindbad and me: I am every day exposed to fatigues and calamities,\nand can scarce get coarse barley-bread for myself and my family,\nwhilst happy Sindbad profusely expends immense riches, and leads a\nlife of continual pleasure. What has he done to obtain from thee a\nlot so agreeable? And what have I done to deserve one so miserable?\nHaving finished his expostulation, he struck his foot against the\nground, like a man swallowed up of grief and despair.\n\nWhilst the porter was thus indulging his melancholy, a servant came\nout of the house, and taking him by the arm, bid him follow him, for\nSignor Sindbad, his master, wanted to speak with him. --Here day\nbeginning to appear, Scheherazade broke off her story, but resumed\nit again next morning as follows:\n\n\n\n\nSEVENTIETH NIGHT.\n\n\nSir, your majesty may easily imagine that poor Hindbad was not a\nlittle surprised at this compliment; for, considering what he had\nsaid, he was afraid Sindbad had sent for him to punish him;\ntherefore he would have excused himself, alleging that he could not\nleave his burden in the middle of the street. But Sindbad\u2019s\nservants assured him they would look to it, and pressed the porter\nso, that he was obliged to yield.\n\nThe servants brought him into a great hall, where abundance of\npeople sat round a table covered with all sorts of fine dishes. At\nthe upper end, there sat a grave, comely, venerable gentleman, with\na long white beard, and behind him stood a number of officers and\ndomestics, all ready to serve him; this grave gentleman was Sindbad.\nThe porter, whose fear was increased at the sight of so many people,\nand of a banquet so sumptuous, saluted the company trembling.\nSindbad bid him draw near, and sitting him down at his right hand,\nserved him himself, and gave him excellent wine, of which there was\na good store upon the side board.\n\nWhen dinner was over, Sindbad began his discourse to Hindbad: and\ncalling him brother, according to the manner of the Arabians when\nthey are familiar one with another, he asked him his name and\nemployment, --Signor, answered he, my name is Hindbad. --I am very\nglad to see you, replied Sindbad, and I dare say the same for all\nthe company; but I would be glad to hear from your own mouth what it\nwas you said awhile ago in the street. For Sindbad had heard it\nhimself through the window, before he sat down at table, and that\noccasioned his calling for him.\n\nHindbad, being surprised at the question, hung down his head, and\nreplied, Signor, I confess that my weariness put me out of humour,\nand occasioned me to speak some indiscreet words, which I beg you to\npardon. --Oh! do not think I am so unjust, replied Sindbad, to\nresent such a thing as that; I consider your condition, and instead\nof upbraiding you with your complaints, I commiserate you: but I\nmust rectify your mistake concerning myself. You think, no doubt,\nthat I have acquired without labour and trouble the ease and\nconveniency which I now enjoy: but do not mistake; I did not attain\nto this happy condition without enduring more trouble of body and\nmind, for several years, than can well be imagined. Yes, gentlemen,\nadded he, speaking to the whole company, I can assure you my\ntroubles were so extraordinary, that they were capable of\ndiscouraging the most covetous man from undertaking such voyages as\nI did, to acquire riches. Perhaps you have never heard a distinct\naccount of my wonderful adventures, and the dangers I met with in my\nseven voyages; and since I have this opportunity, I am willing to\ngive you a faithful account of them, not doubting but it will be\nacceptable.\n\nAnd because Sindbad was to tell this story, particularly upon the\nporter\u2019s account, he ordered his burden to be carried to the place\nappointed, and began thus:\n\n\n\n\nThe story of Sindbad, the Sailor.\nHis first Voyage.\n\n\nMy father left me a considerable estate, the best part of which I\nspent in debauchery during my youth; but I perceived my error, and\nreflected that riches were perishable, and quickly consumed by such\nill managers as myself. I farther considered, that by my irregular\nway of living I wretchedly mispent my time, which is the most\nvaluable thing in the world. I remembered the saying of the great\nSolomon, which I had frequently heard from my father: That death is\nmore tolerable than poverty. Struck with those reflections, I\ncollected the remains of my furniture, and sold all my patrimony by\npublic auction to the highest bidder. Then I entered into a contract\nwith some merchants, who traded by sea: I took the advice of such as\nI thought most capable to give it me; and resolving to improve what\nmoney I had, I went to Balsora, [5] and embarked with several\nmerchants on board a ship which we jointly fitted up.\n\nWe set sail, and steered our course towards the East Indies, through\nthe Persian gulf, which is formed by the coasts of Arabia Felix on\nthe right, and by those of Persia on the left, and, according to\ncommon opinion, is seventy leagues at the broadest place. The\neastern sea, as well as that of the Indies, is very spacious; it is\nbounded on one side by the coasts of Abyssinia, and is 4500 leagues\nin length to the isles of Vakvaq. [6] At first I was troubled with\nthe sea-sickness, but speedily recovered my health, and was not\nafterwards troubled with that disease.\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 little island, even almost with the surface of the water,\nwhich resembled a green meadow. The captain ordered his sails to be\nfurled, and permitted such persons as had a mind to land upon the\nisland, amongst whom I was one. But while we were diverting\nourselves with eating and drinking, and recovering ourselves from\nthe fatigue of the sea, the island on a sudden trembled, and shook\nus terribly.\n\nHere Scheherazade stopped, because day appeared, but resumed her\ndiscourse next morning as follows.\n\n\n\n\nSEVENTY-FIRST NIGHT.\n\n\nSir, Sindbad pursued his story thus: They perceived the trembling of\nthe island on board the ship, and called us to re-embark speedily,\nor we should all be lost; for what we took for an island was only\nthe back of a whale. The nimblest got into the sloop; others betook\nthemselves to swimming; but, for my part, I was still upon the back\nof the whale when he dived into the sea, and had time only to catch\nhold of a piece of wood that we had brought out of the ship to make\na fire. Meanwhile, the captain, having received those on board who\nwere in the sloop, and taken up some of those that swam, resolved to\nimprove the favourable gale that was just risen, and hoisting his\nsails, pursued his voyage, so that it was impossible to recover the\nship.\n\nThus was I exposed to the mercy of the waves, and struggled for my\nlife all the rest of the day and the following night. Next morning I\nfound my strength gone, and despaired of saving my life, when\nhappily a wave threw me against an island. [7] The bank was high and\nrugged, so that I could scarcely have got up, had it not been for\nsome roots of trees, which fortune seemed to have preserved in this\nplace for my safety. Being got up, I lay down upon the ground half\ndead, until the sun appeared: then, though I was very feeble, both\nby reason of my hard labour and want of food, I crept along to seek\nsome herbs fit to eat, and had not only the good luck to find some,\nbut likewise a spring of excellent water, which contributed much to\nrecover me. After this I advanced farther into the island, and came\nat last into a fine plain, where I perceived a horse feeding at a\ngreat distance. I went towards him, between hope and fear, not\nknowing whether I was going to lose my life or save it. When I came\nnear, I perceived it to be a very fine mare, tied to a stake. Whilst\nI looked upon her, I heard the voice of a man from under ground, who\nimmediately appeared to me, and asked who I was. I gave him an\naccount of my adventure; after which, taking me by the hand, he led\nme into a cave, where there were several other people, no less\namazed to see me than I was to see them.\n\nI eat some victuals which they offered me, and then, having asked\nthem what they did in such a desert place, they answered, that they\nwere grooms belonging to king Mihrage, sovereign of the island; and\nthat every year, at the same season, they brought thither the\nking\u2019s mares, and fastened them as I saw that mare, until they\nwere covered by a horse that came out of the sea, who, after he had\ndone so, endeavoured to destroy the mares; but they hindered him by\ntheir noise, and obliged him to return to the sea; after which they\ncarried home the mares, whose foals were kept for the king\u2019s use,\nand called sea-horses. They added, that they were to get home\nto-morrow, 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 without\na guide.\n\nWhilst 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 went back to the sea.\n\nNext morning, they returned with their mares to the capital of the\nisland, took me with them, and presented me to king Mihrage. [8] He\nasked me who I was? By what adventure I came into his dominions?\nAnd, after I had satisfied him, he told me he was much concerned for\nmy misfortune, and at the same time ordered that I should want\nnothing; which his officers were so generous and careful as to see\nexactly fulfilled.\n\nBeing a merchant, I frequented with men of my own profession, and\nparticularly inquired for those who were strangers, if perhaps I\nmight hear any news from Bagdad, or find an opportunity to return\nthither: for king Mihrage\u2019s capital is situated on the bank of the\nsea, 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 discourse; but\nwithal, I took care to make my court regularly to the king, and\nconversed with the governors and petty kings, his tributaries, that\nwere about him. They asked me a thousand questions about my country;\nand I being willing to inform myself as to their laws and customs,\nasked them every thing that I thought worth knowing.\n\nThere belongs to this king an island named Cassel: they assured me,\nthat every night a noise of drums [9] was heard there, whence the\nmariners fancied that it was the residence of Degial. [10] I had a\ngreat mind to see this wonderful place, and in my way thither saw\nfishes of 100 and 200 cubits long, [11] that occasion more fear than\nhurt; for they are so fearful, that they will fly upon the rattling\nof two sticks or boards. I saw likewise other fishes about a cubit\nin length, that had heads like owls. [12]\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\nmagazine. As I cast my eye upon some bales, and looked to the name,\nI found my own, and perceived the bales to be the same that I had\nembarked at Balsora. I also knew the captain: but being persuaded\nthat he believed me to be drowned, I went and asked him whose bales\nthese were. He replied, that they belonged to a merchant of Bagdad,\ncalled Sindbad, who came to sea with him; but one day, being near an\nisland, as we thought, he went ashore, with several other\npassengers, upon this supposed island, which was only a monstrous\nwhale that lay asleep upon the surface of the water: but as soon as\nhe felt the heat of the fire they had kindled upon his back to dress\nsome victuals, he began to move, and dived under water: most of the\npersons who were upon him perished, and among them unfortunate\nSindbad. Those bales belonged to him, and I am resolved to trade\nwith them until I meet with some of his family, to whom I may return\nthe profit. Captain, said I, I am that Sindbad whom you thought to\nbe dead, and those bales are mine. --Here Scheherazade stopt till\nnext morning, and went on as follows:\n\n\n\n\nSEVENTY-SECOND NIGHT.\n\n\nSindbad, pursuing the story, said to the company, When the captain\nheard me speak thus, O heaven! said he, whom can we ever trust\nnow-a-days? There is no faith left among men. I saw Sindbad perish\nwith my own eyes, and the passengers on board saw it as well as I;\nand yet you tell me you are that Sindbad. What impudence is this! To\nlook on you, one would take you to be a man of probity; and yet you\ntell a horrible falsehood, in order to possess yourself of what does\nnot belong to you. Have patience, captain, replied I; do me the\nfavour to hear what I have to say. Very well, said he, speak; I am\nready to hear you. Then I told him how I escaped, and by what\nadventure I met with the grooms of king Mihrage, who brought me to\nhis court.\n\nHe began to abate of his confidence upon my discourse, and was soon\npersuaded that I was no cheat; for there came people from his ship\nwho knew me, paid me great compliments, and expressed much joy to\nsee me alive. At last he knew me himself, and, embracing me, Heaven\nbe praised, said he, for your happy escape; I cannot enough express\nmy joy for it. There are your goods; take and do with them what you\nwill. I thanked him, acknowledged his probity, and, in requital,\noffered him part of my goods as a present, which he generously\nrefused.\n\nI took out what was most valuable in my bales, and presented it to\nking Mihrage, who, knowing my misfortune, asked me how I came by\nsuch rarities? I acquainted him with the whole story. He was\nmightily pleased at my good luck, accepted my present, and gave me\none much more considerable in return. Upon this, I took leave of\nhim, and went aboard the same ship, after I had exchanged my goods\nfor the commodities of that country. I carried with me wood of\naloes, sandal, camphire, nutmegs, cloves, pepper, and ginger. We\npassed by several islands, and at last arrived at Balsora, from\nwhence I came to this city, with the value of 100,000 sequins. [13]\nMy family and I received one another with all the transports of\nsincere friendship. I bought slaves of both sexes, fine lands, and\nbuilt me a great house; and thus I settled myself, resolving to\nforget the miseries I had suffered, and to enjoy the pleasures of\nlife.\n\nSindbad stopped here, and ordered the musicians to go on with their\nconcerts, which his story had interrupted. The company continued to\neat and drink till the evening, when it was time to retire; when\nSindbad sent for a purse of one hundred sequins, and giving it to\nthe porter, said, Take this, Hindbad; return to your home, and come\nback to-morrow to hear some more of my adventures. The porter went\nhome, astonished at the honour done him, and the present made him.\nThe relation of it was very agreeable to his wife and children, who\ndid not fail to return thanks to God for what providence had sent\nhim by the hand of Sindbad.\n\nHindbad put on his best clothes next day, and returned to the\nbountiful traveller, who received him with a pleasant air, and\ncaressed him heartily. When all the guests were come, dinner was set\nupon the table, and continued a long time. When it was ended,\nSindbad, addressing himself to the company, said, Gentlemen, be\npleased to give me audience, and listen to the adventures of my\nsecond voyage; they deserve your attention better than the first.\nUpon which every one held his peace, and Sindbad went on thus:--\n\n\n\n\nSecond Voyage of Sindbad, the Sailor.\n\n\nI designed, after my first voyage, to spend the rest of my days at\nBagdad, as I had the honour to tell you yesterday; but it was not\nlong ere I grew weary of a quiet life. My inclination to trade\nrevived. I bought goods proper for the commerce I intended, and put\nto sea a second time, with merchants of known probity. We embarked\non board a good ship, and, after recommending ourselves to God, set\nsail. We traded from island to island, and exchanged commodities\nwith great profit. One day we landed on an island covered with\nseveral sorts of fruit-trees, but so unpeopled, that we could\nneither see man nor beast upon it. We went to take a little fresh\nair in the meadows, and along the streams that watered them. Whilst\nsome diverted themselves with gathering flowers, and others with\ngathering fruits, I took my wine and provisions, and sat down by a\nstream betwixt two great trees, which formed a curious shape. I made\na very good meal, and afterwards fell asleep. I cannot tell how long\nI slept, but when I awaked the ship was gone. Here Scheherazade\nbroke off, because day appeared, but next night continued the story\nthus:\n\n\n\n\nSEVENTY-THIRD NIGHT.\n\n\nI was very much surprised, said Sindbad, to find the ship gone. I\ngot up, and looked about every where, and could not see one of the\nmerchants who landed with me. At last I perceived the ship under\nsail, but at such a distance, that I lost sight of her in a very\nlittle 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 sadly, beat my\nhead and breast, and threw myself down upon the ground, where I lay\nsome time in a terrible agony, 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 well have served me all my life. But all this was\nin vain, and my repentance out of season.\n\nAt last I resigned myself to the will of God; and not knowing what\nto do, I climbed up to the top of a great tree, from whence I looked\nabout on all sides to see if there was any thing that could give me\nhopes. When I looked towards the sea, I could see nothing but sky\nand water; but looking towards the land, I saw something white; and\ncoming down from the tree, I took up what provisions I had left, and\nwent towards it, the distance being so great that I could not\ndistinguish what it was.\n\nWhen I came nearer, I thought it to be a white bowl, of a prodigious\nheight and bigness; 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 to\nthe top of it, it was so smooth. It was at least fifty paces round.\n\nBy this time the sun was ready to set, and all of a sudden the sky\nbecame as dark as if it had been covered with a thick cloud. I was\nmuch astonished at this sudden darkness, but much more when I found\nit occasioned by a bird of a monstrous size, that came flying\ntowards me. I remembered a fowl, called _roc_, that I had often\nheard mariners speak of, and conceived that the great bowl, which I\nso much admired, must needs be its egg. In short, the bird alighted,\nand sat over the egg to hatch it. As I perceived her coming, I crept\nclose 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 the cloth that went round my turban, in hopes\nthat when the roc [14] flew away next morning, she would carry me\nwith her out of this desert island. And after having passed the\nnight in this condition, the bird actually flew away next morning,\nas soon as it was day, and carried me so high that I could not see\nthe earth; she afterwards descended all of a sudden, with so much\nrapidity that I lost my senses: but when the roc was settled, and I\nfound myself upon the ground, I speedily untied the knot, and had\nscarce done so when the bird, having taken up a serpent of a\nmonstrous length in her bill, flew away. [15]\n\nThe place where it left me was a very deep valley, encompassed on\nall sides with mountains, so high that they seemed to reach above\nthe clouds, and so full of steep rocks that there was no possibility\nof getting out of the valley. This was a new perplexity; so that\nwhen I compared this place with the desert island from which the roc\nbrought me, I found that I had 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 a great\ndeal of pleasure to look upon them; but speedily I saw at a distance\nsuch objects as very much diminished my satisfaction, and which I\ncould not look upon without terror; that was, a great number of\nserpents, so big and so long, that the least of them was capable of\nswallowing an elephant. They retired in the day-time to their dens,\nwhere they hid themselves from the roc, their enemy, and did not\ncome out but in the night-time.\n\nI spent the day in walking about the valley, resting myself at times\nin such places as I thought mast commodious. When night came on, I\nwent into a cave, where I thought I might be in safety. I stopped\nthe mouth of it, which was low and strait, with a great stone, to\npreserve me from the serpents, but not so exactly fitted as to\nhinder light from coming in. I supped on part of my provisions; but\nthe serpents, which began to appear, hissing about in the mean time,\nput me into such extreme fear, that you may easily imagine I did not\nsleep. When day appeared the serpents retired, and I came out of the\ncave trembling. I can justly say, that I walked a long time upon\ndiamonds, without feeling an inclination to touch any of them. At\nlast I sat down, and notwithstanding my uneasiness, not having shut\nmy eyes during the night, I fell asleep, after having eaten a little\nmore of my provisions: but I had scarce shut my eyes, when\nsomething, that fell by me with great noise, awaked me. This was a\ngreat piece of fresh meat; and at the same time I saw several others\nfall down from the rocks in different places.\n\nI always looked upon it to be a fable, when I heard mariners and\nothers discourse of the valley of diamonds, and of the stratagems\nmade use of by merchants to get jewels from thence; but then I found\nit to be true. For, in reality, those merchants come to the\nneighbourhood of this valley when the eagles have young ones, and\nthrowing great joints of meat into the valley, the diamonds, upon\nwhose points they fall, stick to them; the eagles, which are\nstronger in this country than any where else, pounce with great\nforce upon those pieces of meat, and carry them to their nests upon\nthe top of the rocks, to feed their young with; at which time the\nmerchants, running to their nests, frighten the eagles by their\nnoise, and take away the diamonds that stick to the meat. [16] And\nthis stratagem they make use of to get the diamonds out of the\nvalley, which is surrounded with such precipices that nobody can\nenter it.\n\nI believed till then that it was not possible for me to get out of\nthis abyss, which I looked upon as my grave; but then I changed my\nmind, for the falling in of those pieces of meat put me in hopes of\na way of saving my life. --Here day began to appear, which obliged\nScheherazade to break off; but she went on with it next night as\nfollows:\n\n\n\n\nSEVENTY-FOURTH NIGHT.\n\n\nSir, said she to the sultan, Sindbad continued the story of the\nadventure of his second voyage thus: I began to gather together the\nlargest diamonds that I could see, and put them into the leathern\nbag in which I used to carry my provisions. I afterwards took the\nlargest piece of meat I could find, tied it close round me with the\ncloth of my turban, and then laid myself upon the ground, with my\nface downward, the bag of diamonds being tied fast to my girdle, so\nthat it could not possibly drop off.\n\nI had scarce laid me down before the eagles came: each of them\nseized a piece of meat, and one of the strongest having taken me up,\nwith a piece of meat on my back, carried me to his nest on the top\nof the mountain. The merchants fell straightway to shouting, to\nfrighten the eagles; and when they had obliged them to quit their\nprey, one of them came to the nest where I was. He was very much\nafraid when he saw me; but recovering himself, instead of inquiring\nhow I came thither, he began to quarrel with me, and asked why I\nstole his goods. You will treat me, replied I, with more civility,\nwhen you know me better. Do not trouble yourself; I have diamonds\nenough for you and myself too, more than all the other merchants\ntogether. If they have any, it is by chance; but I chose myself in\nthe bottom of the valley all those which you see in this bag: and\nhaving spoken these words, I showed them to him. I had scarce done\nspeaking, when the other merchants came trooping about us, much\nastonished to see me; but they were much more surprised when I told\nthem my story. Yet they did not so much admire my stratagem to save\nmyself, as my courage to attempt it.\n\nThey carried me to the place where they staid all together, and\nthere having opened my bag, they were surprised at the largeness of\nmy diamonds, and confessed that in all the courts where they had\nbeen they never saw any that came near them. I prayed the merchant\nto whom the nest belonged whither I was carried (for every merchant\nhad his own) to take as many for his share as he pleased. He\ncontented himself with one, and that too the least of them; and when\nI pressed him to take more, without fear of doing me any injury: No,\nsaid he, I am very well satisfied with this, which is valuable\nenough to save me the trouble of making any more voyages, to raise\nas great a fortune as I desire.\n\nI spent the night with those merchants, to whom I told my story a\nsecond time, for the satisfaction of those who had not heard it. I\ncould not moderate my joy when I found myself delivered from the\ndanger I have mentioned: I thought myself to be in a dream, and\ncould scarce believe myself to be 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 next morning all\ntogether, and travelled near high mountains, where there were\nserpents of a prodigious length, which we had the good fortune to\nescape. We took the first port we came at, and came to the isle of\nRoha, where the trees grow that yield camphire. This tree is so\nlarge, and its branches so thick, that a hundred men may easily sit\nunder its shade. The juice, of which the camphire is made, runs out\nfrom a hole bored in the upper part of the tree, is received in a\nvessel, where it grows to a consistency, and becomes what we call\ncamphire; and the juice thus drawn out, the tree withers and dies.\n\nThere is in this island the rhinoceros, a creature less than the\nelephant, but greater than the buffalo; they have a horn upon their\nnose, about a cubit long; this horn is solid, and cleft in the\nmiddle from one end to the other, and there is upon it 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 his\nhead; but the blood and the fat of the elephant running into his\neyes, and making him blind, he falls to the ground; and then,\nstrange to relate, the roc comes and carries them both away in her\nclaws, to be food for her young ones.\n\nI pass over many other things peculiar to this island, lest I should\nbe troublesome to you. Here I exchanged some of my diamonds for good\nmerchandise. From thence we went to other isles; and at last, having\ntouched at several trading towns of the main land, we landed at\nBalsora, from whence I went to Bagdad. There I immediately gave\ngreat alms to the poor, and lived honourably upon the vast riches I\nhad brought, and gained with so much fatigue. Thus Sindbad ended the\nstory of the second voyage, gave Hindbad another hundred sequins,\nand invited him to come next day to hear the story of the third. The\nrest of the guests returned to their houses, and came again the next\nday at the same hour; and one may be sure the porter did not fail,\nhaving by this time almost forgot his former poverty. When dinner\nwas over, Sindbad demanded attention, and gave them an account of\nhis third voyage, as follows:\n\n\n\n\nSindbad, the Sailor\u2019s third Voyage.\n\n\nThe pleasures of the life which I then led soon made me forget the\nrisks I had run in my two former voyages; but being then in the\nflower of my age, I grew weary of living without business; and\nhardening myself against the thought of any danger I might incur, I\nwent from Bagdad, with the richest commodities of the country, to\nBalsora: there I embarked again with the merchants. We made a long\nvoyage, and touched at several ports, where we drove a considerable\ntrade. One day, being out in the main ocean, we were attacked by a\nhorrible tempest, which made us lose our course. The tempest\ncontinued several days, and brought us before the port of an island,\nwhere the captain was very unwilling to enter; but we were obliged\nto cast anchor there. When we had furled our sails, the captain told\nus that this and some other neighbouring islands [17] were inhabited\nby hairy savages, who would speedily attack us; and though they were\nbut dwarfs, yet our misfortune was such that we must make no\nresistance, for they were more in number than the locusts; and if we\nhappened to kill one of them, they would all fall upon us, and\ndestroy us. --Here day beginning to appear, Scheherazade broke off\nher story, and continued it next night, as follows:\n\n\n\n\nSEVENTY-FIFTH NIGHT.\n\n\nThis discourse of the captain, said Sindbad, put the whole company\ninto a great consternation; and we found very soon, to our cost,\nthat what he had told us was but too true: an innumerable multitude\nof frightful savages, covered all over with red hair, and about two\nfeet high, [18] came swimming towards us, and encompassed our ship\nin a little time. They spoke to us as they came near, but we\nunderstood not their language; they climbed up the sides of the ship\nwith so much agility as surprised us. We beheld all this with mortal\nfear, without daring to offer to defend ourselves, or to speak one\nword to divert them from their mischievous design. In short, they\ntook down our sails, cut the cable, and hauled to the shore, made us\nall get out, and afterwards carried the ship into another island,\nfrom whence they came. All travellers carefully avoided that island\nwhere they left us, it being very dangerous to stay there, for a\nreason you shall hear anon; but we were forced to bear our\naffliction with patience.\n\nWe went forward into the island, where we found some fruits and\nherbs to prolong our lives as long as we could; but we expected\nnothing but death. As we went on, we perceived at a distance a great\npile of building, and made towards it. We found it to be a palace,\nwell built, and very lofty, with a gate of ebony of two leaves,\nwhich we thrust open. We entered the court, where we saw before us a\nvast apartment, with a porch, having on one side a heap of men\u2019s\nbones, and on the other a vast number of roasting spits. We trembled\nat this spectacle, and being weary with travelling, our legs failing\nunder us, we fell to the ground, being seized with deadly fear, and\nlay a long time motionless.\n\nThe sun was set, and whilst we were in the lamentable condition just\nmentioned, the gate of the apartment opened with a great noise, and\nthere came out the horrible figure of a black man, as high as a tall\npalm tree. He had but one eye, and that in the middle of his\nforehead, where it looked as red as a burning coal. His foreteeth\nwere very long and sharp, and stood out of his mouth, which was as\ndeep as that of a horse; his upper lip hung down upon his breast;\nhis ears resembled those of an elephant, [19] and covered his\nshoulders; and his nails were as long and crooked as the talons of\nthe greatest birds. At the sight of so frightful a giant we lost all\nsense, and lay like dead men. [20]\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 towards\nus, and laying his hands upon me, he took me up by the nape of my\nneck, and turned me round as a butcher would do a sheep\u2019s head.\nAfter having viewed me well, and perceiving me to be so lean that I\nhad nothing but skin and bone, he let me go. He took up all the\nrest, one by one, viewed them in the same manner, and the captain\nbeing the fattest, he held him with one hand, as I would do a\nsparrow, and thrusting a spit through him, kindled a great fire,\nroasted, and eat him in his apartment for his supper; which being\ndone, he returned to his porch, where he lay and fell asleep,\nsnoring louder than thunder. He slept thus till morning. For our\nparts, it was not possible for us to enjoy any rest; so that we\npassed the night in the most cruel fear that can be imagined. Day\nbeing come, the giant awaked, got up, went out, and left us in the\npalace.\n\nWhen we thought him at a distance, we broke the melancholy silence\nwe had kept all night, and every one grieving more than another, we\nmade the palace resound with our complaints and groans. Though there\nwere a great many of us, and we had but one enemy, we had not at\nfirst the presence of mind to think of delivering ourselves from him\nby his death. This enterprise, however, though hard to put in\nexecution, was the only design we ought naturally to have formed.\n\nWe thought of several other things, but determined nothing; so that\nsubmitting to what it should please God to order concerning us, we\nspent the day in running about the island for fruit and herbs to\nsustain our lives. When evening came, we sought for a place to lie\nin, but found none; so that we were forced, whether we would or not,\nto return to the palace.\n\nThe giant failed not to come back, and supped once more upon one of\nour companions; after which he slept, and snored till day, and then\nwent out, and left us as formerly. Our condition was so very\nterrible, that several of my comrades designed to throw themselves\ninto the sea, rather than die so strange a death; and those who were\nof this mind argued with the rest to follow their example: upon\nwhich one of the company answered, that we were forbidden to destroy\nourselves; but allowing it to be lawful, it was more reasonable to\nthink of a way to rid ourselves of the barbarous tyrant who designed\nso cruel a death for us.\n\nHaving thought of a project for that end, I communicated the same to\nmy comrades, who approved it. Brethren, said I, you know there is a\ngreat deal of timber floating upon the coast: if you will be advised\nby me, let us make several floats of it that may carry us; and when\nthey are done, leave them there till we think fit to make use of\nthem. In the mean time we will execute the design to deliver\nourselves from the giant; and if we succeed, we may stay here with\npatience till some ship pass by, that may carry us out of this fatal\nisland; but if it happen to miscarry, we will speedily get to our\nfloats, and put to sea. I confess, that by exposing ourselves to the\nfury of the waves, we run a risk of losing our lives; but if we do,\nis it not better to be buried in the sea, than in the entrails of\nthis monster, who has already devoured two of us? My advice was\nrelished, and we made floats capable of carrying three persons each.\n\nWe returned to the palace towards the evening, and the giant arrived\na little while after. We were forced to conclude on seeing another\nof our comrades roasted. But at last we revenged ourselves on the\nbrutish giant thus: After he had made an end of his cursed supper,\nhe lay down on his back and fell asleep. As soon as we heard him\nsnore, [21] according to his custom, nine of the boldest among us,\nand myself, took each of us a spit, and putting the points of them\ninto the fire till they were burning hot, we thrust them into his\neye all at once, and blinded him. The pain occasioned him to make a\nfrightful cry, and to get up and stretch out his hands, in order to\nsacrifice some of us to his rage: but we ran to such places as he\ncould not find us; and after having sought for us in vain, he groped\nfor the gate, and went out, howling dreadfully. --Scheherazade\nstopped here, but next night resumed her story thus:\n\n\n\n\nSEVENTY-SIXTH NIGHT.\n\n\nWe went out of the palace after the giant, continued Sindbad, and\ncame to the shore, where we had left our floats, and put them\nimmediately into the sea. We waited till day, in order to get upon\nthem, in case the giant came towards us with any guide of his own\nspecies; but we hoped if he did not appear by sun-rising, and gave\nover his howling, which we still heard, that he would die; and if\nthat happened to be the case, we resolved to stay in that island,\nand not to risk our lives upon the floats; but day had scarce\nappeared, when we perceived our cruel enemy, accompanied with two\nothers almost of the same size, leading him, and a great number more\ncoming before him with a very quick pace.\n\nWhen we saw this, we made no delay, but got immediately upon our\nfloats, and rowed off from the shore. The giants, who perceived\nthis, took up great stones, and running to the shore, entered the\nwater up to the middle, and threw so exactly, that they sunk all the\nfloats but that I was upon, and all my companions, except the two\nwith me, were drowned. We rowed with all our might, and got out of\nthe reach 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 on\none side, and sometimes on another, and spent that night and the\nfollowing day under a cruel uncertainty as to our fate; but next\nmorning we had the good luck to be thrown upon an island, where we\nlanded with much joy. We found excellent fruit there, that gave us\ngreat relief, so that we pretty well recovered our strength.\n\nIn the evening we fell asleep on the bank of the sea, but were\nawaked by the noise of a serpent as long as a palm tree, whose\nscales made a rustling as he crept along. He swallowed up one of my\ncomrades, notwithstanding his loud cries, and the efforts he made to\nrid himself of the serpent; which, shaking him several times against\nthe ground, crushed him; and we could hear him gnaw and tear the\npoor wretch\u2019s bones, when we had fled a great distance from him.\nNext day we saw the serpent again, to our great terror; when I cried\nout, O Heaven, to what dangers are we exposed! We rejoiced yesterday\nat our having escaped from the cruelty of a giant and the rage of\nthe waves, and now are we fallen into another danger altogether as\nterrible.\n\nAs we walked about we saw a large tall tree, upon which we designed\nto pass the following night, for our security; and having satisfied\nour hunger, we mounted it accordingly. A little while after the\nserpent came hissing to the root of the tree, raised itself up\nagainst the trunk of it, and meeting with my comrade, who sat lower\nthan I, swallowed him at once, and went off.\n\nI staid upon the tree till it was day, and then came down, more like\na dead man than one alive, expecting the same fate with my two\ncompanions. This filled me with horror, so that I was going to throw\nmyself into the sea; but nature prompting us to a desire to live as\nlong as we can, I withstood this temptation to despair, and\nsubmitted myself to the will of God, who disposes of our lives at\nhis pleasure.\n\nIn the mean time I gathered together a great quantity of small wood,\nbrambles, and dry thorns, and making them up into faggots, made a\ngreat circle with them round the tree, and also tied some of them to\nthe branches over my head. Having done this, when the evening came I\nshut myself up within this circle, with this melancholy piece of\nsatisfaction, that I had neglected nothing which could preserve me\nfrom the cruel destiny with which I was threatened. The serpent\nfailed not to come at the usual hour, and went round the tree,\nseeking for an opportunity to devour me, but was prevented by the\nrampart I had made; so that he lay till day, like a cat watching in\nvain for a mouse that has retired to a place of safety. When day\nappeared he retired, but I dared not leave my fort until the sun\narose.\n\nI was fatigued with the toil he had put me to, and suffered so much\nby his poisonous breath, that death seemed more eligible to me than\nthe horror of such a condition. I came down from the tree, and not\nthinking on the resignation I had made to the will of God the\npreceding day, I ran towards the sea, with a design to throw myself\ninto it headlong. --Here Scheherazade stopt, because day appeared;\nand next night continued her story thus:\n\n\n\n\nSEVENTY-SEVENTH NIGHT.\n\n\nSindbad pursued the account of his third voyage thus: God, said he,\ntook compassion on my desperate state; for just as I was going to\nthrow myself into the sea, I perceived a ship at a considerable\ndistance. I called as loud as I could, and taking the linen from my\nturban, displayed it, that they might observe me. This had the\ndesired effect; all the crew perceived me, and the captain sent his\nboat for me. As soon as I came aboard, the merchants and seamen\nflocked about me to know how I came to that desert island; and after\nI had told them of all that befell me, the oldest of them said to\nme, they had several times heard of the giants that dwelt in that\nisland, that they were cannibals, and eat men raw as well as\nroasted; and as to the serpents, they added, that there were\nabundance in the isle, that hid themselves by day, and came abroad\nby night. After having testified their joy at my escaping so many\ndangers, they brought me the best of what they had to eat; and the\ncaptain, seeing that I was all in rags, was so generous as to give\nme one of his own suits. We were at sea for some time, touched at\nseveral islands, and at last landed on that of Salabat, [22] where\nthere grows sanders, a wood of great use in physic. We entered the\nport, and came to an 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 a parcel of 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 benefit\nof his heirs, when I know them. The bales he spoke of lay on the\ndeck, and showing them to me, he said, There are the goods; I hope\nyou will take care to sell them, and you shall have factorage. I\nthanked him that he gave me an opportunity to employ myself, because\nI 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 the\ncaptain in whose name he should enter those he gave me the charge\nof, Enter them, said the captain, in the name of Sindbad the sailor.\nI could not hear myself named without some emotion; and looking\nsteadfastly at the captain, I knew him to be the person who, in my\nsecond voyage, had left me in the island where I fell asleep by a\nbrook, and set sail without me, or sending to see for me: but I\ncould not remember him at first, he was so much altered since I saw\nhim.\n\nAnd as for him, who believed me to be dead, I could not wonder at\nhis not knowing me. But, captain, said I, was the merchant\u2019s name\nto whom these bales belonged, Sindbad? --Yes, replied he, that was\nhis name; he came from Bagdad, and embarked on board my ship at\nBalsora. One day, when we landed at an island to take in water and\nother refreshments, I know not by what mistake, I set sail without\nobserving that he did not re-embark with us; neither I nor the\nmerchants perceived it till four hours after. We had the wind in our\nstern, and so fresh a gale, that it was not then possible for us to\ntack about for him. --You believe him then to be dead? said I.\n--Certainly, answered he. --No, captain, said I; look upon me, and\nyou may know that I am Sindbad, whom you left in that desert island.\nI fell asleep by a brook, and when I awaked, I found all the company\ngone. At these words the captain looked steadfastly upon me. --Here\nScheherazade perceiving day, broke off her story, and next day\nresumed it thus:\n\n\n\n\nSEVENTY-EIGHTH NIGHT.\n\n\nThe captain, continued Sindbad, having considered me attentively,\nknew me at last, embraced me, and said, God be praised that fortune\nhas supplied my defect. There are your goods, which I always took\ncare to preserve, and to make the best of them at every port where I\ntouched. I restore them to you, with the profit I have made of them.\nI took them from him, and at the same time acknowledged how much I\nowed to him.\n\nFrom the isle of Salabat we went to another, where I furnished\nmyself with cloves, cinnamon, and other spices. As we sailed from\nthat island we saw a tortoise that was twenty cubits in length and\nbreadth. [23] We observed also a fish which looked like a cow, and\ngave milk, [24] and its skin is so hard that they usually make\nbucklers of it. I saw another which had the shape and colour of a\ncamel. [25] in short, after a long voyage, I arrived at Balsora, and\nfrom thence returned to the city of Bagdad, with so much riches that\nI knew not what I had. I gave a great deal to the poor, and bought\nanother great estate in addition to what I had already.\n\nThus Sindbad finished the history of his third voyage; gave another\nhundred sequins to Hindbad, and invited him to dinner again next\nday, to hear the story of his fourth voyage. Hindbad and the company\nretired, and next day, when they returned, Sindbad, after dinner,\ncontinued the story of his adventures.\n\n\n\n\nSindbad, the Sailor\u2019s, fourth Voyage.\n\n\nThe pleasure, said he, and the divertisements I took after my third\nvoyage, had not charms enough to divert me from another. I was again\nprevailed upon by my passion for traffic, and curiosity to see new\nthings. I therefore settled my affairs, and having provided a stock\nof goods fit for the places where I designed to trade, I set out on\nmy journey. I took the way of Persia, of which I travelled over\nseveral provinces, and then arrived at a port, where I embarked. We\nset sail, and having touched at several ports of the main land, and\nsome of the eastern islands, we put out to sea, and were overtaken\nby such a sudden gust of wind as obliged the captain to furl his\nsails, and to take all other necessary precautions to prevent the\ndanger that threatened us: but all was in vain; our endeavours had\nno effect, the sails were torn in a thousand pieces, and the ship\nwas stranded; so that a great many of the merchants and seaman were\ndrowned, and the cargo lost.\n\nScheherazade perceiving day, held her peace; but resumed her story\nnext night, as follows:\n\n\n\n\nSEVENTY-NINTH NIGHT.\n\n\nI had the good fortune, continued Sindbad, with several of the\nmerchants and mariners, to get a plank, and we were carried by the\ncurrent to an island which lay before us; there we found fruit and\nspring-water, which preserved our lives. We staid all night near the\nplace where the sea cast us ashore, without consulting what we\nshould do, our misfortune had dispirited us so much.\n\nNext morning, as soon as the sun was up, we walked from the shore,\nand advancing into the island, saw some houses, to which we went;\nand as soon as we came thither we were encompassed by a great number\nof blacks, who seized us, shared us among them, and carried us to\ntheir respective habitations. [26]\n\nI, and five of my comrades, were carried to one place: they made us\nsit down immediately, and gave us a certain herb, which they made\nsigns to us to eat. My comrades not taking notice that the blacks\neat none themselves, consulted only the satisfying of their own\nhunger, and fell to eating with greediness: but I, suspecting some\ntrick, would not so much as taste it, which happened well for me;\nfor in a little time after I perceived my companions had lost their\nsenses, and that when they spoke to me they knew not what they said.\n\nThe blacks fed us afterwards with rice, prepared with oil of\ncocoa-nuts; and my comrades, who had lost their reason, eat of it\ngreedily. I eat of it also, but very sparingly. The blacks gave us\nthat herb at first on purpose to deprive us of our senses, [27] that\nwe might not be aware of the sad destiny prepared for us; and they\ngave us rice on purpose to fatten us; for, being cannibals, their\ndesign was to eat us as soon as we grew fat. They did accordingly\neat my comrades, who were not sensible of their condition; but my\nsenses being entire, you may easily guess, gentlemen, that instead\nof growing fat, as the rest did, I grew leaner every day. The fear\nof death under which I laboured, turned all my food into poison. I\nfell into a languishing distemper, which proved my safety; for the\nblacks, having killed and eat up my companions, seeing me to be\nwithered, lean, and sick, deferred my death till another time.\n\nMean while I had a great deal of liberty, so that there was scarce\nany notice taken of what I did; and this gave me an opportunity one\nday to get at a distance from the houses, and to make my escape. An\nold man 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 pace,\nand quickly got out of sight. At that time there was none but the\nold man about the houses, the rest being abroad, and not to come\nhome till night, which was pretty usual with them: therefore, being\nsure that they could not come time enough to pursue me, I went on\ntill night, when I stopped to rest a little, and to eat some of the\nprovisions I had taken care of; but I speedily set forward again,\nand travelled seven days, avoiding those places which seemed to be\ninhabited, and lived for the most part upon cocoa-nuts, which served\nme both for meat and drink. On the eighth day I came near the sea,\nand saw all of a sudden white people like myself gathering pepper,\n[28] of which there was great plenty in that place. This I took to\nbe a good omen, and went to them without any scruple. --Scheherazade\nbroke off here, and went on with the story next night, as follows:\n\n\n\n\nEIGHTIETH NIGHT.\n\n\nThe people who gathered pepper, continued Sindbad, came to meet me\nas soon as they saw me, and asked me, in Arabic, who I was, and\nwhence I came. I was overjoyed to hear them speak in my own\nlanguage, and satisfied their curiosity by giving them an account of\nmy shipwreck, and how I fell into the hands of the blacks. Those\nblacks, replied they, eat men; and by what miracle did you escape\ntheir cruelty? I told them the same story I now tell you, at which\nthey were wonderfully surprised.\n\nI staid with them till they had gathered their quantity of pepper,\nand then sailed with them to the island from whence they came. They\npresented me to their king, who was a good prince. He had the\npatience to hear the relation of my adventures, which surprised him;\nand he afterwards gave me clothes, and commanded care to be taken of\nme.\n\nThe island was very well peopled, plentiful in every thing, and the\ncapital was a place of great trade. This agreeable retreat was very\ncomfortable to me after my misfortune, and the kindness of this\ngenerous prince towards me completed my satisfaction. In a word,\nthere was not a person more in favour with him than myself; and, by\nconsequence, 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 than\na stranger.\n\nI observed one thing which to me appeared very extraordinary. All\nthe people, the king himself not excepted, rode their horses without\nbridle or stirrups. This made me one day take the liberty to ask the\nking how that came to pass. His majesty answered, that I talked to\nhim of things which nobody knew the use of in his dominions.\n\nI went immediately to a workman, and gave him a model for making the\nstock of a saddle. When that was done, I covered it myself with\nvelvet and leather, and embroidered it with gold. I afterwards went\nto a locksmith, who made me a bridle according to the pattern I\nshowed him, and then he made me 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 to me. I could not avoid making several others for his\nministers and principal officers of his household, who all of them\nmade me presents that enriched me in a little time. I also made for\nthe people of best quality in the city, which gained me great\nreputation and regard.\n\nAs I made my court very constantly to the king he said to me one\nday, Sindbad, I love thee; and all my subjects who know thee treat\nthee according to my example. I have one thing to demand of thee,\nwhich thou must grant. --Sir, answered I, there is nothing but what\nI will do, as a mark of my obedience to your majesty, whose power\nover me is absolute. --I have a mind thou shouldst marry, replied\nhe, that so thou mayst stay in my dominion, and think no more of thy\nown country. --I dared not resist the prince\u2019s will, and so he\ngave me one of the ladies of his court, a noble, beautiful, chaste,\nand rich lady. The ceremonies of marriage being over, I went and\ndwelt with the lady, and for some time we lived together in perfect\nharmony. I was not, however, very well satisfied with my condition,\nand therefore designed to make my escape on the first occasion, and\nto return to Bagdad, which my present settlement, how advantageous\nsoever, could not make me forget.\n\nWhile I was thinking on this, the wife of one of my neighbours, with\nwhom I had contracted a very strict friendship, fell sick, and died.\nI went to see and comfort him in his affliction, and finding him\nswallowed up with sorrow, I said to him as soon as I saw him, God\npreserve you and grant you a long life. --Alas! replied he, how do\nyou think I should obtain that favour you wish me? I have not above\nan hour to live. --Pray, said I, do not entertain such a melancholy\nthought; I hope it will not be so, but that I shall enjoy your\ncompany for many years. --I wish you, said he, a long life; but for\nme, my days are at an end, for I must be buried this day with my\nwife. [29] This is a law which our ancestors established in this\nisland, and always observed it inviolably. The living husband is\ninterred with the dead wife, and the living wife with the dead\nhusband. Nothing can save me; every one must submit to this law.\n\nWhile he was entertaining me with an account of this barbarous\ncustom, the very hearing of which frighted me cruelly, his kindred,\nfriends, and neighbours came in a body to assist at the funerals.\nThey put on the corpse the woman\u2019s richest apparel, as if it had\nbeen her wedding-day, and dressed her with all her jewels; then they\nput her into an open coffin, and lifting it up, began their march to\nthe place of burial. The husband walked at the head of the company,\nand followed the corpse. They went up to a high mountain, and when\nthey came thither, took up a great stone, which covered the mouth of\na very deep pit, and let down the corpse, with all its apparel and\njewels. Then the husband, embracing his kindred and friends,\nsuffered himself to be put into another open coffin without\nresistance, with a pot of water, and seven little loaves, and was\nlet down in the same manner as they let down his wife. The mountain\nwas pretty long, and reached to the sea. The ceremony being over,\nthey covered the hole again with the stone, and returned.\n\nIt is needless, gentlemen, for me to tell you that I was the only\nmelancholy spectator of this funeral, whereas the rest were scarcely\nmoved at it, the practice was so customary to them. I could not\nforbear speaking my thoughts of this matter to the king: Sir, said\nI, I cannot but wonder at the strange custom in this country, of\nburying the living with the dead. I have been a great traveller, and\nseen many countries, but never heard of so cruel a law. --What do\nyou mean, Sindbad? said the king: it is a common law. I shall be\ninterred with the queen, my wife, if she die first. --But, sir, said\nI, may I presume to ask your majesty, if strangers be obliged to\nobserve this law? --Without doubt, replied the king, (smiling at the\noccasion of my question,) they are not exempted, it they be married\nin this island.\n\nI went home very melancholy at this answer; for the fear of my\nwife\u2019s dying first, and that I should be interred alive with her,\noccasioned me very mortifying reflections. But there was no remedy;\nI must have patience, and submit to the will of God. I trembled,\nhowever, at every little indisposition of my wife: but alas! in a\nlittle time my fears came upon me all at once, for she fell sick,\nand died in a few days.\n\nScheherazade stopt here for that time, and resumed the thread of her\nstory next night thus:\n\n\n\n\nEIGHTY-FIRST NIGHT.\n\n\nYou may judge at my sorrow, continued Sindbad; to be interred alive,\nseemed to me as deplorable an end as to be devoured by cannibals.\nBut I must submit; the king and all his court would honour the\nfuneral with their presence, and the most considerable people of the\ncity did the like. When all was ready for the ceremony, the corpse\nwas put into a coffin, with all her jewels and magnificent apparel.\nThe cavalcade 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 I came to the mountain, I made an essay on\nthe minds of the spectators: I addressed myself to the king in the\nfirst place, and then to all those who were round me and bowing\nbefore them to the earth, to kiss the border of their garments, I\nprayed them to have compassion upon me. Consider, said I, that I am\na stranger, and ought not to be subject to this rigorous law, and\nthat I have another wife and children in my own country. [30] It was\nto no purpose for me to speak thus, no soul was moved at it; on the\ncontrary, they made haste to let down my wife\u2019s corpse into the\npit, and put me down the next moment in an open coffin, with a\nvessel full of water, and seven loaves. In short, the fatal ceremony\nbeing performed, they covered up the mouth of the pit,\nnotwithstanding the excess of my grief, and my lamentable cries.\n\nAs I came near the bottom, I discovered, by help of the little light\nthat came from above, the nature of this subterraneous place; it was\na vast long cave, and might be about fifty fathom deep. I\nimmediately smelt an insufferable stench, proceeding from the\nmultitude of dead corpses which I saw on the right and left; nay, I\nfancied that I heard some of them sigh out their last. However, when\nI got down, I immediately left my coffin, and getting at a distance\nfrom the corpses, held my nose, and lay upon the ground, where I\nstaid a long time, bathed in tears. Then, reflecting on my sad lot,\nIt is true, said I, that God disposes all things according to the\ndecrees of his providence; but, poor Sindbad, art not thou thyself\nthe cause of thy being 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 terrible in\nall its circumstances. But thou hast drawn all this upon thyself by\nthy cursed avarice. Ah! unfortunate wretch, shouldst thou not rather\nhave staid at home, and quietly enjoyed the fruits of thy labour?\n\nSuch were the vain complaints with which I made the cave to echo,\nbeating my head and stomach out of rage and despair, and abandoning\nmyself to the most afflicting thoughts. Nevertheless, I must tell\nyou, that instead of calling death to my assistance in that\nmiserable condition, I felt still an inclination to live, and to do\nall I could to prolong my days. I went groping about, with my nose\nstopped, for the bread and water that was in my coffin, and I took\nsome of it. Though the darkness of the cave was so great that I\ncould not distinguish day and night, yet I always found my coffin\nagain, and the cave seemed to be more spacious and fuller of corpses\nthan it appeared to me at first. I lived for some days upon my bread\nand water, which being all spent at last, I prepared for death. --At\nthese words Scheherazade left off, but resumed the story next night\nthus:\n\n\n\n\nEIGHTY-SECOND NIGHT.\n\n\nAs I was thinking of death, continued Sindbad, I heard the stone\nlifted up from the mouth of the cave, and immediately the corpse of\na man was let down. When men are reduced to necessity, it is natural\nfor them to come to extreme resolutions. While they let down the\nwoman, I approached the place where her coffin was to be put, and as\nsoon as I perceived they were covering again the mouth of the cave,\nI gave the unfortunate wretch two or three great blows over the\nhead, with a large bone that I found; which stunned, or, to say the\ntruth, killed her. I committed this inhuman action merely for the\nsake of the bread and water that was in her coffin, and thus I had\nprovisions for some days more. When that was spent, they let down\nanother dead woman, and a live man: I killed the man in the same\nmanner, and, as good luck would have it for me, there was then a\nsort of mortality in the town, so that by this means I did not want\nfor provisions.\n\nOne day, as I despatched another woman, I heard something walking,\nand blowing or panting as it walked. I advanced towards that side\nfrom whence I heard the noise, and upon my approach the thing puffed\nand blew harder, as if it had been running away from me. I followed\nthe noise, and the thing seemed to stop sometimes, but always fled\nand blew as I approached. I followed it so long, and so far, till at\nlast I perceived a light, resembling a star; I went on towards that\nlight, and sometimes lost sight of it, but always found it again,\nand at last discovered that it came through a hole in the rock,\nlarge enough for a man to get out at.\n\nUpon this I stopped some time to rest myself, being much fatigued\nwith pursuing this discovery so fast: afterwards coming up to the\nhole, I went out of it, and found myself upon the bank of the sea. I\nleave you to guess the excess of my joy: it was such, that I could\nscarce persuade myself of its being real.\n\nBut when I was recovered from my surprise, and convinced of the\ntruth of the matter, I found the thing which I had followed, and\nheard puff and blow, to be a creature which came out of the sea, and\nwas accustomed to enter at that hole to feed upon the dead\ncarcasses. [31]\n\nI examined the mountain, and perceived it to be situated betwixt the\nsea and the town, but without any passage or way to communicate with\nthe latter, the rocks on the side of the sea were so rugged and\nsteep. I fell down upon the shore to thank God for this mercy, and\nafterwards entered the cave again to fetch bread and water, which I\ndid by day-light, with a better appetite than I had done since my\ninterment in the dark hole.\n\nI returned thither again, and groped about among the biers for all\nthe diamonds, rubies, pearls, gold bracelets, and rich stuffs I\ncould find; these I brought to the shore, and tying them up neatly\ninto bales, with the cords that let down the coffins, I laid them\ntogether upon the bank, waiting till some ship passed by, without\nfear of rain, for it was not then the season.\n\nAfter two or three days, I perceived a ship that had but just come\nout of the harbour, and passed near the place where I was. I made a\nsign with the linen of my turban, and called to them as loud as I\ncould. They heard me, and sent a boat to bring me on board, when the\nmariners asked by what misfortune I came thither: I told them that I\nhad suffered shipwreck two days ago, and made shift to get ashore\nwith the goods they saw. It was happy for me that those people did\nnot consider the place where I was, nor inquire into the probability\nof what I told them; but, without more ado, took me on board with my\ngoods. When I came to the ship, the captain was so well pleased to\nhave saved me, and so much taken up with his own affairs, that he\nalso took the story of my pretended shipwreck upon trust, and\ngenerously refused some jewels which I offered him.\n\nWe passed by several islands, and among others that called the isle\nof Bells, [32] about ten days\u2019 sail from Serendib, with a regular\nwind, and six from that of Kela, where we landed. This island\nproduces lead mines, Indian canes, [33] and excellent camphire.\n\nThe king of the isle of Kela is very rich and potent, and the isle\nof Bells, which is about two days\u2019 journey in extent, is also\nsubject to him. The inhabitants are so barbarous that they still eat\nhuman flesh. After we had finished our commerce in that island, we\nput to sea again, and touched at several other ports: at last I\narrived happily at Bagdad with infinite riches, of which it is\nneedless to trouble you with the detail.\n\nOut of thankfulness to God for his mercies, I gave great alms for\nthe support of several mosques, and for the subsistence of the poor,\nand employed myself wholly in enjoying my kindred and friends, and\nmaking merry with them.\n\nHere Sindbad finished the relation of his fourth voyage, which was\nmore surprising to the company than all the three former. He gave a\nnew present of a hundred sequins to Hindbad, whom he prayed to\nreturn with the rest next day at the same hour, to dine with him,\nand hear the story of his fifth voyage. Hindbad and the rest of his\nguests took leave of him, and retired. Next morning when they all\nmet, they sat down at table, and when dinner was over, Sindbad began\nthe relation of his fifth voyage, as follows:\n\n\n\n\nThe fifth voyage of Sindbad the sailor.\n\n\nThe pleasures I enjoyed had again charms enough to made me forget\nall the troubles and calamities I had undergone, without curing me\nof my inclination to make new voyages. Therefore I bought goods,\nordered them to be packed up and loaded, and set out with them for\nthe best sea-port; and there, that I might not be obliged to depend\nupon a captain, but have a ship at my own command, I staid till one\nwas built on purpose, at my own charge. When the ship was ready, I\nwent on board with my goods; but not having enough to load her, I\ntook on board with me several merchants of different nations, with\ntheir 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 an\negg of a roc, equal in bigness to that I formerly mentioned. There\nwas a young roc in it, just ready to be hatched, and the bill of it\nbegan to appear.\n\nAt these words Scheherazade stopt, because day began to enter the\nsultan\u2019s apartment; but next night she resumed her story thus:\n\n\n\n\nEIGHTY-THIRD NIGHT.\n\n\nSindbad, the sailor, said she, continued the relation of his fifth\nvoyage as follows: The merchants whom I had taken on board my ship,\nand who landed with me, broke the egg with hatchets, and made a hole\nin it, from whence they pulled out the young roc, piece after piece,\nand roasted it. I had earnestly persuaded them not to meddle with\nthe egg, but they would not listen to me.\n\nScarcely had they made an end of their treat, when there appeared in\nthe air, at a considerable distance from us, two great clouds. The\ncaptain whom I hired to manage my ship, knowing, by experience, what\nit meant, cried that it was the male and female roc that belonged to\nthe young one, and pressed us to re-embark with all speed, to\nprevent the misfortune which he saw would otherwise befall us. We\nmade haste to do so, and set sail with all possible diligence.\n\nIn the mean time, the two rocs approached with a frightful noise,\nwhich they redoubled when they saw the egg broken, and their young\none gone. But having a mind to avenge themselves, they flew back\ntowards the place from whence they came, and disappeared for some\ntime, while we made all the sail we could, to prevent that which\nunhappily befell us.\n\nThey returned, and we observed that each of them carried between\ntheir talons, stones, or rather rocks, of a monstrous size. When\nthey came directly over my ship, they hovered, and one of them [34]\nlet fall a stone; but by the dexterity of the steersman, who turned\nthe ship with the rudder, it missed us, and, falling by the side of\nthe ship into the sea, divided the waters so, that we almost could\nsee to the bottom. The other roc, to our misfortune, threw the stone\nso exactly upon the middle of the ship, that it split in a thousand\npieces. The mariners and passengers were all killed by the stone, or\nsunk. I myself had the last fate; but as I came up again, I\nfortunately caught hold of a piece of the wreck, and sometimes\nswimming with one hand, and sometimes with the other, but always\nholding fast my board, the wind and the tide favouring me, I came to\nan island, whose shore was very steep. I overcame that difficulty,\nhowever, and got ashore.\n\nI sat down upon the grass, to recover myself a little from the\nfatigue; after which I got up, and went into the island to view it.\nIt seemed to be a delicious garden. I found trees every where, some\nof them bearing green, and others ripe fruits, and streams of fresh\npure water, with pleasant windings and turnings. I ate of the\nfruits, which I found excellent, and drank of the water, which was\nvery pleasant.\n\nNight being come, I lay down upon the grass in a convenient place\nenough, but I could not sleep an hour at a time, my mind was so\ndisturbed with the fear of being alone in so desert a place. Thus I\nspent the best part of the night in fretting, and reproached myself\nfor my imprudence in not staying at home, rather that undertaking\nthis last voyage. These reflections carried me so far, that I began\nto form a design against my own life; but daylight dispersed those\nmelancholy thoughts, and I got up, and walked among the trees, but\nnot without apprehensions of danger.\n\nWhen I was a little advanced into the island, I saw an old man, [35]\nwho appeared very weak and feeble. He sat upon the bank of a stream,\nand at first I took him to be one who had been shipwrecked like\nmyself. I went towards him and saluted him, but he only bowed his\nhead a little. I asked him what he did there; but, instead of\nanswering me, he made a sign for me to take him upon my back, and\ncarry him over the brook, signifying that it was to gather fruit.\n\nI believed him really to stand in need of my help, so took him upon\nmy back, and, having carried him over, bid him get down, and for\nthat end stooped, that he might get off with ease; but instead of\nthat, (which I laugh at every time I think of it,) the old man, who\nto me appeared very decrepit, clasped his legs nimbly about my neck,\nand then I perceived his skin to resemble that of a cow. He sat\nastride upon my shoulders, and held my throat so tight, that I\nthought he would have strangled me, the fright of which made me\nfaint away, and fall down.\n\n[Illustration: THE OLD MAN OF THE SEA.]\n\nDay appearing, Scheherazade was obliged to stop here, but pursued\nher story thus next night:\n\n\n\n\nEIGHTY-FOURTH NIGHT.\n\n\nNotwithstanding my fainting, continued Sindbad, the ill-natured old\nfellow kept fast about my neck, but opened his legs a little to give\nme time to recover my breath. When I had done so, he thrust one of\nhis feet against my stomach, and struck me so rudely on the side\nwith the other, that he forced me to rise up against my will. Being\ngot up, he made me walk under the trees, and forced me now and then\nto stop, to gather and eat fruit such as we found. He never left me\nall day, and when I lay down to rest me by night, he laid himself\ndown with me, holding always fast about my neck. Every morning he\npushed me to make me awake, and afterwards obliged me to get up and\nwalk, and pressed me with his feet. You may judge, then, gentlemen,\nwhat trouble I was in, to be loaded with such a burden, which I\ncould by no means rid myself from.\n\nOne day I found in my way several dry calabashes that had fallen\nfrom a tree; I took a large one, and after cleaning it, pressed into\nit some juice of grapes, [36] which abounded in the island; having\nfilled the calabash, I set it in a convenient place, and coming\nhither again some days after, I took up my calabash, and setting it\nto my mouth, found the wine to be so good, that it made me presently\nnot only forget my sorrow, but I grew vigorous, and was so\nlight-hearted, that I began to sing and dance as I walked along.\n\nThe old man perceiving the effects which this drink had upon me, and\nthat I carried him with more ease than I did before, made a sign to\nme to give him some of it. I gave him the calabash, and the liquor\npleasing his palate, he drank it all off. There being enough of it\nto fuddle him, he became drunk immediately, and the fumes getting up\ninto his head, he began to sing after his manner, and to dance with\nhis breech upon my shoulders. His jolting made him vomit, and he\nloosened his legs from about me by degrees; so finding that he did\nnot press me as before, I threw him upon the ground, where he lay\nwithout motion, and then I took up a great stone, with which I\ncrushed his head to pieces.\n\nI was extremely rejoiced to be freed thus for ever from this cursed\nold fellow, and walked upon the bank of the sea, where I met the\ncrew of a ship that had cast anchor to take in water to refresh\nthemselves. They were extremely surprised to see me, and to hear the\nparticulars of my adventures. You fell, said they, into the hands of\nthe old man of the sea, and are the first that ever escaped\nstrangling by him. He never left those he had once made himself\nmaster of, till he destroyed them, and he had made this island\nfamous by the number of men he has slain; so that the merchants and\nmariners who landed upon it dared not to advance into the island but\nin numbers together.\n\nAfter having informed me of those things, they carried me with them\nto the ship: the captain received me with great satisfaction when\nthey told him what had befallen me. He put out again to sea, and\nafter some days\u2019 sail we arrived at the harbour of a great city,\nwhose houses were built with good stone.\n\nOne of the merchants of the ship who had taken me into his\nfriendship, obliged me to go along with him, and carried me to a\nplace appointed for a retreat for foreign merchants. He gave me a\ngreat bag, and having recommended me to some people of the town, who\nused to gather cocoa-nuts, he desired them to take me with them to\ndo the like: \u201cGo,\u201d said he, \u201cfollow them, and do as you see\nthem do, and do not separate from them, otherwise you endanger your\nlife.\u201d Having thus spoke, he gave me provisions for the journey,\nand I went with them.\n\nWe came to a great forest of trees, extremely straight and tall, and\ntheir trunks so smooth, that it was not possible for any man to\nclimb up to the branches that bore the fruit. All the trees were\ncocoa-trees, and when we entered the forest, we saw a great number\nof apes, of several sizes, that fled as soon as they perceived us,\nand climbed up to the top of the trees with surprising swiftness.\n\nScheherazade would have gone on, but day appearing, prevented her,\nand next night she resumed her discourse as follows:\n\n\n\n\nEIGHTY-FIFTH NIGHT.\n\n\nThe merchants with whom I was, continued Sindbad, gathered stones,\nand threw them at the apes on the top of the trees. I did the same,\nand the apes, out of revenge, threw cocoa-nuts at us as fast, and\nwith such gestures, as sufficiently testified their anger and\nresentment: we gathered up the cocoa-nuts, and from time to time\nthrew stones to provoke the apes; so that by this stratagem we\nfilled our bags with cocoa-nuts, which it had been impossible for us\nto have done otherwise.\n\nWhen we had gathered our number, we returned to the city, where the\nmerchant who sent me to the forest gave me the value of the cocoas I\nbrought: Go on, said he, and do the like every day, until you have\ngot money enough to carry you home. I thanked him for his good\nadvice, and insensibly gathered together so many cocoa-nuts as\namounted to a considerable sum.\n\nThe vessel in which I came, sailed with merchants, who loaded her\nwith cocoa-nuts. I expected the arrival of another, which landed\nspeedily for the like loading. I embarked on board the same all the\ncocoa-nuts that belonged to me, and when she was ready to sail, I\nwent and took leave of the merchant who had been so kind to me; but\nhe could not embark with me, because he had not finished his\nbusiness.\n\nWe set sail towards the islands, [37] where pepper grows in great\nplenty. From thence we went to the isle of Comari, [38] where the\nbest sort of wood of aloes grows, and whose inhabitants have made it\nan inviolable law to themselves, to drink no wine, nor to suffer any\nplace of debauch. I exchanged my cocoa, in those two islands, for\npepper and wood of aloes, and went, with other merchants, a pearl\nfishing. [39] I hired divers, who fetched me up those that were very\nlarge and pure. I embarked joyfully, in a vessel that happily\narrived at Balsora; from thence I returned to Bagdad, where I made\nvast sums of my pepper, wood of aloes, and pearls. I gave the tenth\nof my gains in alms, as I had done upon my return from other\nvoyages, and endeavoured to ease myself from my fatigues by\ndiversions of all sorts.\n\nWhen Sindbad had finished his story, he ordered one hundred sequins\nto Hindbad, who retired with all the other guests; but next morning,\nthe same company returned to dine with rich Sindbad, who, after\nhaving treated them as formerly, demanded audience, and gave the\nfollowing account of his sixth voyage:\n\n\n\n\nThe sixth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor.\n\n\nGentlemen, said he, you long, without doubt, to know, how after\nbeing shipwrecked five times, and escaping so many dangers, I could\nresolve again to try my fortune, and expose myself to new hardships:\nI am astonished at it myself when I think on it, and must certainly\nhave been induced to it by my stars. But be that as it will, after a\nyear\u2019s rest, I prepared for a sixth voyage, notwithstanding the\nentreaties of my kindred and friends, who did all that was possible\nto prevent me.\n\nInstead of taking my way by the Persian gulf, I travelled once more\nthrough several provinces of Persia and the Indies, and arrived at a\nsea-port, where I embarked on board a ship, the captain of which was\nresolved on a long voyage.\n\nIt was very long indeed, but at the same time so unfortunate, that\nthe captain and pilot lost their course, and knew not where they\nwere. They found it at last, but we had no reason to rejoice at it.\nWe were all seized with extraordinary fear, when we saw the captain\nquit his post, and cry out. He threw off his turban, pulled the hair\nof his beard, and beat his head like a madman. We asked him the\nreason, and he answered, that he was in the most dangerous place in\nall the sea. A rapid current carries the ship along with it, and we\nshall all of us perish in less than a quarter of an hour. Pray to\nGod to deliver us from this danger; we cannot escape it, if he does\nnot take pity on us. At these words, he ordered the sails to be\nchanged; but all the ropes broke, and the ship, without its being\npossible to help it, was carried by the current to the foot of an\ninaccessible mountain, where she run ashore, and was broken to\npieces, yet so that we saved our lives, our provisions, and the best\nof our goods.\n\nThis being over, the captain said to us, God has done what pleased\nhim; we may every man dig our grave here, and bid the world adieu;\nfor we are all in so fatal a place, that none shipwrecked here did\never return to their homes again. His discourse afflicted us sorely,\nand we embraced each other with tears in our eyes, bewailing our\ndeplorable lot.\n\nThe mountain, at the foot of which we were cast, was the coast of a\nvery long and large island. This coast was covered all over with\nwrecks, and by the vast number of men\u2019s bones we saw every where,\nand which filled us with horror, we concluded, that abundance of\npeople had died there. It is also incredible to tell, what a\nquantity of goods and riches we found cast ashore there. All those\nobjects served only to augment our grief. Whereas, in all other\nplaces, rivers run from their channels into the sea, here a great\nriver of fresh water [40] runs out of the sea into a dark cave,\nwhose entrance is very high and large. What is most remarkable in\nthis place is, that the stones of the mountain are of crystal,\nrubies, or other precious stones. Here is also a sort of fountain of\npitch or bitumen, [41] that runs into the sea, which the fishes\nswallow, and then vomit it up again, turned into ambergris; and this\nthe waves throw up on the beach in great quantities. Here also grow\ntrees, most of which are wood of aloes, equal in goodness to those\nof Comari.\n\nTo finish the description of this place, which may well be called a\ngulf, since nothing ever returns from it --it is not possible for\nships to get off from it, when once they come within such a distance\nof it. If they be driven thither by a wind from the sea, the wind\nand the current ruin them; and it they come into it when a land-wind\nblows, which might seem to favour their getting out again, the\nheight of the mountain stops the wind, and occasions a calm, so that\nthe force of the current runs them ashore, where they are broken to\npieces, as ours was; and that which completes the misfortune is,\nthat there is no possibility to get to the top of the mountain, or\nto get out any manner of way.\n\nWe continued upon the shore like men out of their senses, and\nexpected death every day. At first, we divided our provisions as\nequally as we could, and thus every one lived a longer or shorter\ntime, according to their temperance, and the use they made of their\nprovisions.\n\nScheherazade perceiving day, left off speaking, but next night she\nresumed the story as follows:\n\n\n\n\nEIGHTY-SIXTH NIGHT.\n\n\nThose who died first, continued Sindbad, were interred by the rest,\nand as for my part, I paid the last duty to all my companions: nor\nare you to wonder at this, for besides that I husbanded the\nprovision that fell to my share better than they, I had provisions\nof my own, which I did not share with my comrades, yet when I buried\nthe last, I had so little remaining, that I thought I could not hold\nout long, so that I dug a grave, resolving to lie down in it,\nbecause there was none left alive to inter me. I must confess to you\nat the same time, that while I was thus employed, I could not but\nreflect upon myself as the cause of my own ruin, and repented that I\nhad ever undertaken this last voyage; nor did I stop at reflections\nonly, but had well nigh hastened my own death, and began to tear my\nhands with my teeth.\n\nBut it pleased God once more to take compassion on me, and put it in\nmy mind to go to the bank of the river which ran into the great\ncave; where, considering the river with great attention, I said to\nmyself, This river, which runs thus under ground, must come out\nsomewhere or other. If I make a float, and leave myself to the\ncurrent, it will bring me to some inhabited country, or drown me. If\nI be drowned, I lose nothing, but only change one kind of death for\nanother; and if I get out of this fatal place, I shall not only\navoid the sad fate of my comrades, but perhaps find some new\noccasion of enriching myself. Who knows but fortune waits upon my\ngetting off this dangerous shelf, to compensate my shipwreck with\nusury?\n\nI immediately went to work on a float. I made it of large pieces of\ntimber and cables, for I had choice of them, and tied them together\nso strong, that I had made a very solid little float. When I had\nfinished, I loaded it with some bales of rubies, emeralds,\nambergris, rock-crystal, and rich stuffs. Having balanced all my\ncargo exactly, and fastened them well to the float, I went on board\nit with two little oars that I had made, and leaving it to the\ncourse of the river, I resigned myself to the will of God.\n\nAs soon as I came into the cave, I lost all light, and the stream\ncarried me I knew not whither. Thus I floated some days in perfect\ndarkness, and once found the arch so low that it very nigh broke my\nhead, which made me very cautious afterwards to avoid the like\ndanger. All this while I eat nothing but what was necessary to\nsupport nature; yet, notwithstanding this frugality, all my\nprovisions were spent. Then a pleasing sleep seized upon me. I\ncannot tell how long it continued; but when I awakened, I was\nsurprised to find myself in the middle of a vast country, at the\nbrink of a river, where my float was tied amidst a great number of\nnegroes. I got up as soon as I saw them, and saluted them. They\nspoke to me, but I did not understand their language. I was so\ntransported with joy, that I knew not whether I was asleep or awake;\nbut being persuaded that I was not asleep, I recited the following\nwords in Arabic, aloud: Call upon the Almighty, he will help thee;\nthou needest not perplex thyself about any thing else: shut thy\neyes, and while thou art asleep, God will change thy bad fortune\ninto 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; we\nare inhabitants of this country, and came hither to-day to water our\nfields, by digging little canals from this river, which comes out of\nthe neighbouring mountain. We perceived something floating upon the\nwater, went speedily to see what it was, and perceiving your float,\none of us swam into the river, and brought it hither, where we\nfastened it, as you see, until you should awake. Pray tell us your\nhistory, for it must be extraordinary; how did you venture yourself\ninto this river, and whence did you come? I begged of them first to\ngive me something to eat, and then I would satisfy their curiosity.\nThey gave me several sorts of food; and when I had satisfied my\nhunger, I gave them a true account of all that had befallen me,\nwhich they listened to with admiration. As soon as I had finished my\ndiscourse, they told me, by the person who spoke Arabic, and\ninterpreted to them what I said, that it was one of the most\nsurprising stories they ever heard, and that I must go along with\nthem, and tell it their king myself; the story is too extraordinary\nto be told by any other than the person to whom it happened. I told\nthem I was ready to do whatever they pleased.\n\nThey immediately sent for a horse, which was brought in a little\ntime; and having made me get upon him, some of them walked before me\nto show me the way, and the rest took my float and cargo, and\nfollowed me.\n\nHere, Scheherazade was obliged to stop, because day appeared; but\ntowards the close of the next night, resumed the thread of her story\nthus:\n\n\n\n\nEIGHTY-SEVENTH NIGHT.\n\n\nWe marched thus altogether, till we came to the city of Serendib,\n[42] for it was in that island I landed. The blacks presented me to\ntheir king; I approached his throne, and saluted him as I used to do\nthe kings of the Indies; that is to say, I prostrated myself at his\nfeet, and kissed the earth. The prince ordered me to rise up,\nreceived me with an obliging air, and made me come up, and sit down\nnear him. He first asked me my name, and I answered, They call me\nSindbad the sailor, because of the many voyages I had undertaken,\nand I am a citizen of Bagdad. But, replied he, how came you into my\ndominions, and from whence came you last?\n\nI concealed nothing from the king; I told him all that I have now\ntold you, and his majesty was so surprised and charmed with it, that\nhe commanded my adventure to be written in letters of gold, and laid\nup in the archives of his kingdom. At last my float was brought in,\nand the bales opened in his presence: he admired the quantity of\nwood of aloes and ambergris; but, above all, the rubies and\nemeralds, for he had none in his treasury that came near them.\n\nObserving that he looked on my jewels with pleasure, and viewed the\nmost remarkable among them one after another, I fell prostrate at\nhis feet, and took the liberty to say to him, Sir, not only my\nperson is at your majesty\u2019s service, but the cargo of the float,\nand I would beg of you to dispose of it as your own. He answered me\nwith a smile, Sindbad, I will take care not to covet any thing of\nyours, nor take any thing from you that God has given you; far from\nlessening your wealth, I design to augment it, and will not let you\ngo out of my dominions without marks of my liberality. All the\nanswer I returned, was prayers for the prosperity of that prince,\nand commendations of his generosity and bounty. He charged one of\nhis officers to take care of me, and ordered people to serve me at\nhis own charge. The officer was very faithful in the execution of\nhis orders, and caused all the goods to be carried to the lodgings\nprovided for 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 seeing the city, and what was most\nworthy of notice.\n\nThe isle of Serendib is situated just under the equinoctial line;\n[43] so that the days and nights there are always of twelve hours\neach, and the island is eighty parasangs [44] in length, and as many\nin breadth.\n\nThe capital city stands in the end of a fine valley, formed by a\nmountain in the middle of the island, which is the highest in the\nworld. [45] It is seen three days sail off at sea. There are rubies\nand several sorts of minerals in it, and all the rocks are for the\nmost part emery, a metalline stone made use of to cut and smooth\nother precious stones. There grow all sorts of rare plants and\ntrees, especially cedars and cocoa-trees. There is also a pearl\nfishery in the mouth of its river, and in some of its valleys there\nare found 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 it.\n\nWhen I came back to the city, I prayed the king to allow me to\nreturn to my country, which he granted me in the most obliging and\nmost honourable manner. He would needs force a rich present upon me;\nand when I went to take my leave of him, he gave me one much more\nconsiderable, and at the same time charged me with a letter for the\ncommander of the faithful, our sovereign, saying to me, I pray you\ngive this present from me, and this letter, to Caliph Haroun\nAlraschid, and assure him of my friendship. I took the present and\nletter in a very respectful manner, and promised his majesty\npunctually to execute the commission with which he was pleased to\nhonour me. Before I embarked, this prince sent for the captain and\nthe merchants who were to go with me, and ordered them to treat me\nwith 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, and\nof a yellowish colour. [46] The characters of the letters were of\nazure, and the contents as follows:\n\n\u2018The king of the Indies, before whom march a hundred elephants,\nwho lives in a palace that shines with a hundred thousand rubies,\nand who has in his treasury twenty thousand crowns, enriched with\ndiamonds, to Caliph Haroun Alraschid:\n\n\u2018Though 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 brother.\nAdieu.\u2019\n\nThe present consisted, first, of one single ruby [47] made into a\ncup, about half a foot high, an inch thick, and filled with round\npearls of half a dram each. Second, 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. [48] Third,\nfifty thousand drams of the best wood of aloes, with thirty grains\nof camphire as big as pistachios. And fourth, a she slave of\nravishing beauty, whose apparel was all covered over with jewels.\n\nThe ship set sail, and after a very long and successful navigation,\nwe landed at Balsora; from thence I went to Bagdad, where the first\nthing I did was to acquit myself of my commission. Scheherazade\nstopt because day appeared, and next night proceeded thus:\n\n\n\n\nEIGHTY-EIGHTH NIGHT.\n\n\nI took the king of Serendib\u2019s letter, continued Sindbad, and went\nto present myself at the gate of the commander of the faithful,\nfollowed by the beautiful slave, and such of my own family as\ncarried the presents. I gave an account of the reason of my coming,\nand was immediately conducted to the throne of the caliph. I made my\nreverence by prostration, and after a short speech, gave him the\nletter and present. When he had read what the king of Serendib wrote\nto him, he asked me if that prince was really so rich and potent as\nhe had said in his letter? I prostrated myself a second time, and\nrising again, Commander of the faithful, said I, I can assure your\nmajesty he doth not exceed the truth on that head. I am witness of\nit. There is nothing more capable of raising a man\u2019s admiration\nthan the magnificence of his palace. When the prince appears in\npublic, he has a throne fixed on the back of an elephant, and\nmarches betwixt two ranks of his ministers, favourites, and other\npeople of his court; before him, upon the same elephant, an officer\ncarries a golden lance in his hand; and behind the throne there is\nanother, who stands upright, with a column of gold, on the top of\nwhich there is an emerald half a foot long, and an inch thick;\nbefore him march a guard of a thousand men, clad in cloth of gold\nand silk, and mounted on elephants richly caparisoned.\n\nWhile the king is on his march, the officer who is before him on the\nsame elephant, cries, from time to time, with a loud voice, Behold\nthe great monarch, the potent and redoubtable sultan of the Indies,\nwhose palace is covered with a hundred thousand rubies, and who\npossesses twenty thousand crowns of diamonds. Behold the crowned\nmonarch greater than the great Solima [49] and the great Mihrage.\n[50] After he had pronounced those words, the officer behind the\nthrone cries in his turn, This monarch, so great and so powerful,\nmust die, must die, must die. And the officer before replies, Praise\nbe to him who lives for ever.\n\nFarther, the king of Serendib is so just, that there are no judges\nin his dominions. His people have no need of them. They understand\nand observe justice exactly of themselves.\n\nThe caliph was much pleased with my discourse. The wisdom of that\nking, said he, appears in his letter, and after what you tell me, I\nmust confess, that his wisdom is worthy of his people, and his\npeople deserve so wise a prince. Having spoken thus, he dismissed\nme, and sent me home with a rich present.\n\nSindbad left off speaking, and his company retired, Hindbad having\nfirst received a hundred sequins; and next day they returned to hear\nthe relation of his seventh and last voyage, as follows:\n\n\n\n\nThe seventh and last Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor.\n\n\nBeing returned from my sixth voyage, I absolutely laid aside all\nthoughts of travelling any farther; for, beside that my years now\nrequired rest, I was resolved no more to expose myself to such risk\nas I had run; so that I thought of nothing but to pass the rest of\nmy days in quiet. One day as I was treating a parcel of my friends,\none of my servants came, and told me, that an officer of the caliph\nasked for me. I rose from the table and went to him. The caliph,\nsaid he, has sent me to tell you, that he must speak with you. I\nfollowed the officer to the palace, where being presented to the\ncaliph, I saluted him, by prostrating myself at his feet. Sindbad,\nsaid he to me, I stand in need of you; you must do me the service to\ncarry my answer and present to the king of Serendib. It is but just\nI should return his civility.\n\nThis command of the caliph to me was like a clap of thunder.\nCommander of the faithful, replied I, I am ready to do whatever your\nmajesty shall think fit to command me; but I beseech you most humbly\nto consider what I have undergone. I have also made a vow never to\ngo out of Bagdad. Hence, I took occasion to give him a large and\nparticular account of all my adventures, which he had the patience\nto hear out.\n\nAs soon as I had finished, I confess, said he, that the things you\ntell me are very extraordinary, yet you must, for my sake, undertake\nthis voyage which I propose to you. You have nothing to do but to go\nto the isle of Serendib, and deliver the commission which I give\nyou. After that you are at liberty to return. But you must go; for\nyou know it would be indecent, and not suitable to my dignity, to be\nindebted to the king of that island. Perceiving that the caliph\ninsisted upon it, I submitted, and told him that I was willing to\nobey. He was very well pleased at it, and ordered me a thousand\nsequins for the charge of my journey.\n\nI prepared for my departure in a few days, and as soon as the\ncaliph\u2019s letter and present were delivered to me, I went to\nBalsora, where I embarked, and had a very happy voyage. I arrived at\nthe isle of Serendib, where I acquainted the king\u2019s ministers with\nmy commission, and prayed them to get me speedy audience. They did\nso, and I was conducted to the palace in an honourable manner, where\nI saluted the king by prostration, according to custom. That prince\nknew me immediately, and testified very great joy to see me. O\nSindbad, said he, you are welcome; I swear to you I have many times\nthought of you since you went hence; I bless the day upon which we\nsee one another once more. I made my compliment to him, and after\nhaving thanked him for his kindness to me, I delivered the\ncaliph\u2019s letter and present, which he received with all imaginable\nsatisfaction.\n\nThe caliph\u2019s present was a complete set of cloth of gold, valued\nat one thousand sequins; fifty robes of rich stuff, a hundred other\nof white cloth, the finest of Cairo, Suez, Cusa, [51] and\nAlexandria; [52] a royal crimson bed, and a second of another\nfashion; a vessel of agate broader than deep, an inch thick, and\nhalf a foot wide, the bottom of which represented in bas-relief a\nman with one knee on the ground, who held a bow and an arrow, ready\nto let fly at a lion. He sent him also a rich table, which,\naccording to tradition, belonged to the great Solomon. The\ncaliph\u2019s letter was as follows:\n\n\u2018Greeting in the name of the sovereign guide of the right way, to\nthe potent and happy sultan, from Abdallah Haroun Alraschid, whom\nGod hath set in the place of honour, after his ancestors of happy\nmemory:\n\n\u2018We received your letter with joy, and send you this from the\ncouncil of our port; the garden of superior wits. We hope, when you\nlook upon it, you will find our good intention, and be pleased with\nit. Adieu.\u2019\n\nThe king of Serendib was highly pleased that the caliph answered his\nfriendship. A little time after this audience, I solicited leave to\ndepart, and had much difficulty to obtain it. I obtained it however\nat last, and the king, when he dismissed me, made me a very\nconsiderable present. I embarked immediately to return to Bagdad,\nbut had not the good fortune to arrive there as I hoped. God ordered\nit otherwise.\n\nThree or four days after my departure, we were attacked by corsairs,\nwho easily seized upon our ship, because it was no vessel of force.\nSome of the crew offered resistance, which cost them their lives.\nBut for me and the rest, who were not so imprudent, the corsairs\nsaved us, on purpose to make slaves of us.\n\nDay beginning to appear, Scheherazade was obliged to keep silence,\nbut next night resumed the story thus:\n\n\n\n\nEIGHTY-NINTH NIGHT.\n\n\nSir, said she to the sultan of the Indies, Sindbad continuing his\nstory, told the company, We were all stripped, and instead of our\nown clothes, they gave us sorry rags, and carried us into a remote\nisland, where they sold us.\n\nI fell into the hands of a rich merchant, who, as soon as he bought\nme, carried me to his house, treated me well, and clad me handsomely\nfor a slave. Some days after, not knowing who I was, he asked me if\nI understood any trade? I answered, that I was no mechanic, but a\nmerchant, and that the corsairs who sold me, robbed me of all I had.\nBut tell me, replied he, can you shoot with a bow? I answered, that\nthe bow was one of my exercises in my youth, and I had not yet\nforgot it. Then he gave me a bow and arrows, and taking me behind\nhim upon an elephant, carried me to a vast forest some leagues from\nthe town. We went a great way into the forest, and when he thought\nfit to stop, he bid me alight; then showing me a great tree, Climb\nup that tree, said he, and shoot at the elephants as you see them\npass by, for there is a prodigious number of them in this forest,\nand if any of them fall, come and give me notice of it. Having\nspoken thus, he left me victuals, and returned to the town, and I\ncontinued upon the tree all night.\n\nI saw no elephant during that time, but next morning, as soon as the\nsun was up, I saw a great number: I shot several arrows among them,\nand at last one of the elephants fell; the rest retired immediately,\nand left me at liberty to go and acquaint my patron with my booty.\nWhen I had told him the news, he gave me a good meal, commended my\ndexterity, and caressed me highly. We went afterwards together to\nthe forest, where we dug a hole for the elephant; my patron\ndesigning to return when it was rotten, and to take his teeth, &c.\nto trade with.\n\nI continued this game for two months, and killed an elephant every\nday, getting sometimes upon one tree, and sometimes upon another.\nOne morning, as I looked for the elephants, I perceived with an\nextreme amazement, that, instead of passing by me across the forest\nas usual, they stopped, and came to me with a horrible noise, in\nsuch a number that the earth was covered with them, and shook under\nthem. They encompassed the tree where I was, with their trunks\nextended, and their eyes all fixed upon me. At this frightful\nspectacle I continued immoveable, and was so much frightened, that\nmy bow and arrows fell out of my hand.\n\nMy fears were not in vain; for after the elephants had stared upon\nme some time, one of the largest of them put his trunk round the\nfoot of the tree, and pulled so strong, that he plucked it up, and\nthrew it on the ground; I fell with the tree, and the elephant\ntaking me up with his trunk, laid me on his back, where I sat more\nlike one dead than alive, with my quiver on my shoulder: he put\nhimself at the head of the rest, who followed him in troops, and\ncarried me to a place where he laid me down on the ground, and\nretired with all his companions. Conceive, if you can, the condition\nI was in: I thought myself to be in a dream; at last, after having\nlain some time, and seeing the elephants gone, I got up, and found I\nwas upon a long and broad hill, covered all over with the bones and\nteeth of elephants. I confess to you that this object furnished me\nwith abundance of reflections. I admired the instinct of those\nanimals; I doubted not but that was their burying-place, and that\nthey carried me thither on purpose to tell me that I should forbear\nto persecute them, since I did it only for their teeth. I did not\nstay on the hill, but turned towards the city, and, after having\ntravelled a day and a night, I came to my patron; I met no elephant\nin my way, which made me think they had retired farther into the\nforest, to leave me at liberty to come back to the hill without any\nobstacle.\n\nAs soon as my patron saw me; Ah, poor Sindbad, said he, I was in\ngreat trouble to know what had become of you. I have been at the\nforest, where I found a tree newly pulled up, and a bow and arrows\non the ground, and after having sought for you in vain, I despaired\nof ever seeing you more. Pray, tell me what befell you, and by what\ngood hap thou art still alive. I satisfied his curiosity, and going\nboth of us next morning to the hill, he found to his great joy that\nwhat I had told him was true. We loaded the elephant upon which we\ncame with as many teeth as he could carry; and when we were\nreturned, Brother, said my patron, for I will treat you no more as\nmy slave, after having made such a discovery as will enrich me, God\nbless you with all happiness and prosperity. I declare before him\nthat I give you your liberty. I concealed from you what I am now\ngoing to tell you.\n\nThe elephants of our forest have every year killed us a great many\nslaves, whom we sent to seek ivory. For all the cautions we could\ngive them, those crafty animals killed them one time or other. God\nhas delivered you from their fury, and has bestowed that favour upon\nyou only. It is a sign that he loves you, and has use for your\nservice in the world. You have procured me incredible gain. We could\nnot have ivory formerly, but by exposing the lives of our slaves,\nand now our whole city is enriched by your means. Do not think I\npretend to have rewarded you by giving you your liberty; I will also\ngive you considerable riches. I would engage all our city to\ncontribute towards making your fortune, but I will have the glory of\ndoing it myself.\n\nTo this obliging discourse I replied, Patron, God preserve you. Your\ngiving me my liberty is enough to discharge what you owe me, and I\ndesire no other reward for the service I had the good fortune to do\nto you and your city, but leave to return to my own country. Very\nwell, said he, the monsoon [53] will in a little time bring ships\nfor ivory. I will send you home then, and give you wherewith to bear\nyour charges. I thanked him again for my liberty, and his good\nintentions towards me. I staid with him, expecting the monsoon; and\nduring that time, we made so many journeys to the hill, that we\nfilled all our warehouses with ivory. The other merchants, who\ntraded in it, did the same thing, for it could not be long concealed\nfrom them. At these words Scheherazade, perceiving day, broke off.\n\n\n\n\nNINETIETH NIGHT. [54]\n\n\nSir, said she to the sultan of the Indies, Sindbad went on with his\nseventh voyage thus:\n\nThe ships arrived at last, and my patron himself having made choice\nof the ship wherein I was to embark, he loaded half of it with ivory\non my account, he laid in provisions in abundance for my passage,\nand besides obliged me to accept a present of the curiosities of the\ncountry of great value. After I had returned him a thousand thanks\nfor all his favours, I went aboard. We set sail, and as the\nadventure which procured me this liberty was very extraordinary, I\nhad it continually in my thoughts.\n\nWe stopped at some islands to take in fresh provisions. Our vessel\nbeing come to a port on the main land in the Indies, we touched\nthere, and not being willing to venture by sea to Balsora, I landed\nmy proportion of the ivory, resolving to proceed on my journey by\nland. I made vast sums of my ivory, I bought several rarities, which\nI intended for presents, and when my equipage was got ready, I set\nout in company of a large caravan of merchants. I was a long time on\nthe way, and suffered very much; but endured all with patience, when\nI considered that I had nothing to fear from the seas, from pirates,\nfrom serpents, nor of the other perils I had undergone.\n\nAll these fatigues ended at last, and I came safe to Bagdad. I went\nimmediately to wait upon the caliph, and gave him an account of my\nembassy. That prince told me he had been uneasy, by reason I was so\nlong in returning, but that he always hoped God would preserve me.\nWhen I told him of the adventure of the elephants, he seemed to be\nmuch surprised at it, and would never have given any credit to it\nhad he not known my sincerity. He reckoned this story, and the other\nrelations I had given him, to be so curious, that he ordered one of\nhis secretaries to write them in characters of gold, and lay them up\nin his treasury. I retired very well satisfied with the honours I\nreceived, and the presents which he gave me; and after that I gave\nmyself up wholly to my family, kindred, and friends.\n\nSindbad here finished the relation of his seventh and last voyage,\nand then, addressing himself to Hindbad, Well, friend, said he, did\nyou ever hear of any person that suffered so much as I have done, or\nof any mortal that has gone through so many perplexities? Is it not\nreasonable that, after all this, I should enjoy a quiet and pleasant\nlife? As he said this, Hindbad drew near to him, and kissing his\nhand, said, I must acknowledge, sir, you have gone through terrible\ndangers; my troubles are not comparable to yours: if they afflict me\nfor a time, I comfort myself with the thoughts of the profit I get\nby them. You not only deserve a quiet life, but are worthy besides\nof all the riches you enjoy, because you make such a good and\ngenerous use of them. May you therefore continue to live in\nhappiness and joy, till the day of your death. Sindbad gave him a\nhundred sequins more, received him into the number of his friends,\nand desired him to quit his porter\u2019s employment, and come and dine\nevery day with him, that he might all his days have reason to\nremember Sindbad the sailor.\n\n\n\n\nThe three Apples.\n\n\nThe Caliph Haroun Alraschid one day commanded the grand vizier\nGiafar, to come to his palace the night following. Vizier, said he,\nI will take a walk around the town, to inform myself what people\nsay, and particularly how they are pleased with my officers of\njustice. If there be any against whom they have reason of just\ncomplaint, we will turn them out, and put others in their stead who\nshall officiate better. If, on the contrary, there be any that have\ngained their applause, we will have that esteem for them which they\ndeserve. The grand vizier being come to the palace at the hour\nappointed, the caliph, he, and Mesrour, the chief of the eunuchs,\ndisguised themselves so that they could not be known, and went out\nall three together.\n\nThey passed through several places, and by several markets; and 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 head,\nand a club in his hand. The old man, said the caliph, does not seem\nto be rich; let us go to him, and inquire into his circumstances.\nHonest man, said the vizier, who art thou? The old man replied, Sir,\nI am a fisher, but one of the poorest and most miserable of the\ntrade; I went from my house about noon to go a fishing, and from\nthat time to this I have not been able to catch one fish; and at the\nsame time I have a wife and small children, and nothing to maintain\nthem.\n\nThe caliph, moved with compassion, said to the fisherman, Hast thou\nthe courage to go back and cast thy net once more? We will give thee\na hundred sequins for what thou shalt bring up. At this proposal,\nthe fisherman, forgetting all his day\u2019s toil, took the caliph at\nhis word; and with him, Giafar and Mesrour, returned to the Tigris;\nhe saying to himself: These gentlemen seem to be too honest and\nreasonable not to reward my pains; and if they give me the hundredth\npart of what they promise me, it will be a great deal.\n\nThey came to the bank of the river, and the fisherman throwing in\nhis net, when he drew it again, brought up a trunk, close shut, and\nvery heavy. The caliph made the grand vizier pay him a hundred\nsequins immediately, and sent him away. Mesrour, by his master\u2019s\norder, carried the trunk on his shoulder; and the caliph was so very\neager to know what was in it, that he returned to the palace with\nall speed. When the trunk was opened, they found in it a large\nbasket made of palm leaves, shut up, and the covering of it sewed\nwith red thread. To satisfy the caliph\u2019s impatience, they would\nnot take time to unrip it, but cut the thread with a knife, and they\ntook out of the basket a bundle wrapt up in a sorry piece of\nhanging, and bound about with a rope, which being untied, and the\nbundle opened, they found, to their great amazement, the corpse of a\nyoung lady, whiter than snow, all cut in pieces.\n\nThe astonishment of the caliph at this dreadful spectacle may be\nmore easily imagined than expressed; his surprise was instantly\nchanged into passion, and darting an angry look at the vizier, Ah!\nthou wretch, said he, is this your inspection into the actions of my\npeople? Do they commit such impious murders under thy ministry in my\ncapital city, and throw my subjects into the Tigris, that they may\ncry for vengeance against me at the day of judgment? If thou dost\nnot speedily revenge the murder of this woman by the death of her\nmurderer, I swear by heaven, that I will cause thee to be hanged,\nand forty more of thy kindred. Commander of the faithful, replied\nthe grand vizier, I beg your majesty to grant me time to make\ninquiry. I will allow thee no more, said the caliph, than three\ndays; therefore, thou must look to it.\n\nThe vizier Giafar went home in great confusion of mind. Alas! said\nhe, how is it possible, that in such a vast and populous city as\nBagdad, I should be able to detect a murderer, who undoubtedly\ncommitted the crime without witness, and perhaps may be already gone\nfrom hence? Any other but I would take some wretched person out of\nprison, and cause him to die, to satisfy the caliph; but I will not\nburden my conscience with such a barbarous action; I will rather die\nthan save my life at that rate.\n\nHe ordered the officers of the police and justice to make strict\nsearch for the criminal; they sent their servants about, and they\nthemselves were not idle, for they were no less concerned in this\nmatter than the vizier. But all their endeavours amounted to\nnothing; what pains soever they took they could not find out the\nmurderer; so that the vizier concluded his life to be gone, unless\nsome remarkable providence hinder it.\n\nThe third day being come, an officer came to this unfortunate\nminister with a summons to follow him, which the vizier obeyed. The\ncaliph asked him for the murderer. He answered, with tears in his\neyes, Commander of the faithful, I have not found any person that\ncould give me the least account of him. The caliph, full of fury and\nrage, gave him many reproachful words, and ordered that he and forty\nBermecides [55] more should be hanged up at the gate of the palace.\n\nIn the mean while, the gibbets were preparing, and orders were sent\nto seize forty Bermecides more in their houses; a public crier was\nsent about the city to cry thus, by the caliph\u2019s order:-- Those\nwho have a desire to see the grand vizier Giafar hanged, and forty\nmore Bermecides of his kindred, let them come to the square before\nthe palace.\n\nWhen all things were ready, the criminal judge and a great many\nofficers belonging to the palace, brought out the grand vizier with\nthe forty Bermecides, and set each of them at the foot of the gibbet\ndesigned for them, and a rope was put about each of their necks. The\nmultitude of people that filled the square, could not without grief\nand tears behold this tragical sight; for the grand vizier and the\nBermecides were loved and honoured on account of their probity,\nbounty, and impartiality, not only in Bagdad, but through all the\ndominions of the caliph.\n\nNothing could prevent the execution of this prince\u2019s too severe\nand irrevocable sentence, and the lives of the most honest people in\nthe city were just going to be taken away, when a young man of\nhandsome mien and good apparel, pressed through the crowd till he\ncame where the grand vizier was, and after he had kissed his hand,\nsaid, Most excellent vizier, chief of the emirs of this court, and\ncomforter of the poor, you are not guilty of the crime for which you\nstand here. Withdraw, and let me expiate the death of the lady that\nwas thrown into the Tigris. It was I who murdered her, and I deserve\nto be punished for it.\n\nThough these words occasioned great joy to the vizier, yet he could\nnot but pity the young man, in whose look he saw something, that\ninstead of being ominous, was engaging; but as he was about to\nanswer him, a tall man, pretty well in years, who had likewise\nforced his way through the crowd, came up to him, saying, Sir, do\nnot believe what this young man tells you; I killed that lady who\nwas found 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 for\nthe guilty. Sir, said the young man to the vizier, I do protest that\nI am he who committed this vile act, and nobody else had any hand in\nit. --My son, said the old man, it is despair that brought you\nhither, and you would anticipate your destiny. I have lived a long\ntime in the world, and it is time for me to be gone; let me,\ntherefore, sacrifice my life for yours. Sir, said he again to the\nvizier, I tell you once more I am the murderer; let me die without\nany more ado.\n\nThe controversy between the old man and the young one obliged the\ngrand vizier Giafar to carry them both before the caliph, which the\njudge criminal consented to, being very glad to serve the vizier.\nWhen he came before the prince, he kissed the ground seven times,\nand spake after this manner: Commander of the faithful, I have\nbrought here before your majesty this old man and this young man,\nwho both confess themselves to be the sole murderers of the lady.\nThen the caliph asked the criminals, which of them it was that so\ncruelly murdered the lady, and threw her into the Tigris. The young\nman assured him it was he, but the old man maintained the contrary.\nGo, said the caliph to the grand vizier, and cause them both to be\nhanged. But, sir, said the vizier, if only one of them be guilty, it\nwould be unjust to take the lives of both. At these words, the young\nman spoke again --I swear by the great God, who has raised the\nheaven so high, that I am the man who killed the lady, cut her in\nquarters, and threw her into the Tigris about four days ago. I\nrenounce my part of happiness amongst the just at the day of\njudgment, if what I say be not true; therefore I am he that ought to\nsuffer. The caliph being surprised at this oath, believed him,\nespecially since the old man made no answer to this. Whereupon,\nturning to the young man, Thou wretch, said he, what was it that\nmade thee commit that detestable crime, and what is it that moves\nthee to offer thyself voluntarily to die? Commander of the faithful,\nsaid he, if all that has passed between that lady and me were set\ndown in writing, it would be a history that might be very useful for\nother men. I command thee, then, to relate it, said the caliph. The\nyoung man obeyed, and began. His history was thus:\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of the Lady that was murdered, and of the young Man, her\nHusband.\n\n\nCommander of the faithful, your majesty may be pleased to know, that\nthis murdered lady was my wife, the daughter of this old man you see\nhere, who is my own uncle by the father\u2019s side. She was not above\ntwelve years old when he gave her to me, and it is now eleven years\nago. I have three children by her, all boys, yet alive; and I must\ndo her that justice to say, that she never gave me the least\noccasion for offence. She was chaste, of good behaviour, and made it\nher whole business to please me; and, for my part, I loved her\nentirely, and rather prevented her in granting any thing she\ndesired, than opposed it.\n\nAbout two months ago, she fell sick; I took all imaginable care of\nher, and spared nothing that could procure her a speedy recovery.\nAfter a month she began to grow better, and had a mind to go to the\nbath. Before she went out of the house, Cousin, said she, (for so\nshe used to call me out of familiarity,) I long for some apples; if\nyou would get me any, you would please me extremely. I have longed\nfor them a great while; and I must own it is come to that height,\nthat if I be not satisfied very soon, I fear some misfortune will\nbefall me. With all my heart, said I, I will do all that is in my\npower 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 a\nsequin a-piece. I returned home very much dissatisfied at my\ndisappointment; and for my wife, when she returned from the bagnio,\nand saw no apples, she became so very uneasy, that she could not\nsleep all night I got up betimes in the morning, and went through\nall the gardens, but had no better success than the day before; only\nI happened to meet an old gardener, who told me that all my pains\nwould signify nothing, for I could not expect to find apples any\nwhere but in your majesty\u2019s garden at Balsora. As I loved my wife\npassionately, and would not have any neglect to satisfy her\nchargeable upon me, I dressed myself in a traveller\u2019s habit, and\nafter I had told her my design, I went to Balsora, and made my\njourney with so great diligence, that I returned at the end of\nfifteen days, with three apples, which cost me a sequin a-piece;\nthere were no more left in the garden, so that the gardener would\nnot let me have them cheaper. As soon as I came home, I presented\nthem to my wife; but her longing was over, so she satisfied herself\nwith receiving them, and laid them down by her. In the mean time,\nshe continued sickly, and I knew not what remedy to get for her.\n\nSome few days after I returned from my journey, I was sitting in my\nshop in the public place where all sorts of fine stuffs are sold,\nand 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 Balsora. I\nhad no reason to doubt it, because I was certain there was not one\nto be had in all Bagdad, nor in any of the gardens about it. I\ncalled to him, and said, Good slave, prithee tell me where thou\nhadst this apple? It is a present, said he, smiling, from my\nmistress. I went to see her to-day, and found her out of order. I\nsaw three apples lying by her, and asked her where she had them. She\ntold me, the good man, her husband, had made a fortnight\u2019s journey\non purpose for them, and brought them her. We had a collation\ntogether, and when I took my leave of her, I brought away this apple\nthat you see.\n\nThis discourse put me out of my senses. I rose, shut up my shop, ran\nhome with all speed, and going to my wife\u2019s chamber, looked\nimmediately for the apples; and seeing only a couple, asked what was\nbecome of the third. Then my wife turning her head to the place\nwhere the apples lay, and perceiving there were but two, answered me\ncoldly, Cousin, I know not what is become of it. At this answer, I\ndid verily believe what the slave told me to be true; and at the\nsame time, giving myself up to madness and jealousy, I drew my knife\nfrom my girdle, and thrust it into the unfortunate creature\u2019s\nthroat. I afterwards cut off her head, and divided her body into\nfour quarters, which I packed up in a bundle, and hiding it in a\nbasket, sewed it up with a thread of red yarn, put all together in a\ntrunk, and when night came, I carried it on my shoulder down to the\nTigris, where I sunk it.\n\nThe two youngest of my children were already put to bed and asleep,\nthe third was gone abroad; but at my return, I found him sitting by\nmy gate, weeping very sore. I asked him the reason: Father, said he,\nI took this morning from my mother, without her knowledge, one of\nthose three apples you brought her, and I kept it a long while; but\nas I was playing some time ago with my little brother, in the\nstreet, a tall slave that went by, snatched it out of my hands, and\ncarried it with him. I ran after him, demanded it back, and besides,\ntold him, that it belonged to my mother, who was sick, and that you\nhad made a fortnight\u2019s journey to fetch it; but all to no purpose\n--he would not restore it. And as I still followed him, crying out,\nhe turned 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 pray\nyou, dear father, not to tell my mother of it, lest it should make\nher worse; and when he had said these words, he fell a weeping again\nmore bitterly than before.\n\nMy son\u2019s discourse afflicted me beyond all measure. I then found\nmyself guilty of an enormous crime, and repented too late of having\nso easily believed the calumnies of a wretched slave, who, from what\nhe had learnt of my son, invented that fatal lie.\n\nMy uncle here present, came just at the 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 his\ncensure, declared myself the greatest criminal in the world.\n\nUpon this, instead of reproaching me, he joined his tears with mine,\nand we wept three days together, without intermission; he for the\nloss of a daughter whom he always loved tenderly, and I for the loss\nof a dear wife, of whom I had deprived myself after so cruel a\nmanner, by giving too easy credit to the report of a lying slave.\n\nThis, commander of the faithful, is the sincere confession your\nmajesty commanded from me. You have heard now all the circumstances\nof my crime, and I most humbly beg of you to order the punishment\ndue for it; how severe soever it may be, I shall not in the least\ncomplain, but esteem it too easy and gentle.\n\nThe caliph was very much astonished at the young man\u2019s relation.\nBut this just prince, finding that he was rather to be pitied than\ncondemned, began to speak in his favour: This young man\u2019s crime,\nsaid he, is pardonable before God, and excusable with men. The\nwicked slave is the sole cause of this murder --it is he alone that\nmust be punished; wherefore, said he, looking upon the grand vizier,\nI give you three day\u2019s time to find him out; if you do not bring\nhim within that space, you shall die in his stead. The unfortunate\nGiafar, who thought himself now out of danger, was terribly\nperplexed at this new order of the caliph; but as he durst not\nreturn any answer to this prince, whose hasty temper he knew too\nwell, he departed from his presence, and retired to his house with\ntears in his eyes, persuading himself he had but three days to live;\nfor he was so fully persuaded that he should not find the slave,\nthat he made not the least inquiry about him. Is it possible, said\nhe, that in such a city as Bagdad, where there is an infinite number\nof negro slaves, I should be able to find him out that is guilty? So\nthat unless God be pleased to bring it about, as he hath already\ndetected the murderer, nothing can save my life.\n\nHe spent the two first days in mourning with his family, who sat\naround him weeping and complaining of the caliph\u2019s cruelty. The\nthird day being come, he prepared himself to die with courage, as an\nhonest minister, and one that had nothing to trouble his conscience;\nhe sent for notaries and witnesses, who signed the last will he made\nin their presence. After which, he took leave of his wife and\nchildren, and bid them the last farewell. All his family were\ndrowned in tears, so that there never was a more sorrowful\nspectacle. At last, the messenger came from the caliph to tell him\nthat he was out of all patience, haring heard nothing from him, nor\nconcerning the negro slave which he had commanded him to search for;\nI am therefore ordered, said he, to bring you before his throne. The\nafflicted vizier made ready to follow the messenger; but as he was\ngoing out, they brought him his youngest daughter, about five or six\nyears of age. The nurses that attended her, presented her to her\nfather to receive his last blessing.\n\nAs he had a particular love for that child, he prayed the messenger\nto give him leave to stop for a moment; and taking his daughter in\nhis arms, he kissed her several times. As he kissed her, he\nperceived she had somewhat in her bosom that looked bulky, and had a\nsweet scent. My dear little one, said he, what hast thou in thy\nbosom? My dear father, said she, it is an apple, upon which is\nwritten the name of our lord and master, the caliph; our slave Rihan\n[56] sold it me for two sequins.\n\nAt these words apple and slave, the grand vizier cried out with\nsurprise, intermixed with joy, and putting his hand into the\nchild\u2019s bosom, pulled out the apple. He caused the slave, who was\nnot far off, to be brought immediately; and when he came, Rascal,\nsaid he, where hadst thou this apple? My lord, said the slave, I\nswear to you, that I neither stole it in your house, nor out of the\ncommander of the faithful\u2019s garden, but the other day, as I was\ngoing along a street where three or four small children were at\nplay, one of them having it in his hand, I snatched it from him, and\ncarried it away. The child ran after me, telling me it was none of\nhis own, but belonged to his mother, who was sick, and that his\nfather, to save her longing, had made a long journey, and brought\nhome three apples, whereof this was one, which he had taken from his\nmother, without her knowledge. He said what he could to make me give\nit him back, but I would not; and so I brought it home, and sold it\nfor two sequins to the little lady, your daughter; and this is the\nwhole truth of the matter.\n\nGiafar could not enough admire, how the roguery of a slave had been\nthe cause of an innocent woman\u2019s death, and almost of his own. He\ncarried the slave along with him; and when he came before the\ncaliph, he gave that prince an exact account of all that the slave\nhad told him, and the chance that had brought him to the discovery\nof his crime.\n\nNever was any surprise so great as that of the caliph, yet he could\nnot prevent himself from falling into excessive fits of laughter. At\nlast, he recovered himself, and with a serious mien, told the\nvizier, that since his slave had been the occasion of a strange\naccident, he deserved an exemplary punishment. Sir, I must own it,\nsaid the vizier, but his guilt is not irremissible. I remember a\nstrange story of a vizier of Cairo, called Nourreddin Ali, [57] and\nBedreddin Hassan, [58] of Balsora; and since your majesty delights\nto hear such things, I am ready to tell it, upon condition, that if\nyour majesty finds it more astonishing than that which gives me\noccasion to tell it, you will be pleased to pardon my slave. I am\ncontent, said the caliph; but you undertake a hard task, for I do\nnot believe you can save your slave, the story of the apples being\nso very singular. Upon this, Giafar began his story thus:\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of Nourreddin Ali and Bedreddin Hassan.\n\n\nCommander of the faithful, there was in former days a sultan of\nEgypt, a strict observer of justice, gracious, merciful, and\nliberal; and his valour made him terrible to his neighbours. He\nloved the poor, and protected the learned, whom he advanced to the\nhighest dignities. This sultan had a vizier, who was prudent, wise,\nsagacious, and well versed in other sciences. This minister had two\nsons, very handsome men, and who, in every thing, followed his own\nfootsteps. The eldest was called Schemseddin [59] Mohammed, and the\nyounger Nourreddin Ali. The last especially was endowed with all the\ngood qualities that any man could possess.\n\nThe vizier, their father, being dead, the sultan sent for them; and\nafter he had caused them both to put on the usual robes of a vizier,\nI am as sorry, said he, for the loss of your father as you\nyourselves; and because I know you live together, and love one\nanother entirely, I will bestow his dignity upon you conjunctly. Go,\nand imitate your father\u2019s conduct.\n\nThe two new viziers humbly thanked the sultan, and went home to\ntheir house, to make due preparation for their father\u2019s interment.\nThey did not go abroad for a month, and then went to court, where\nthey appeared continually on council days. When the sultan went out\na hunting, one of the brothers went along with him, and this honour\nthey had by turns. One evening, as they were talking after supper,\nthe next day being the elder brother\u2019s turn to go a hunting with\nthe sultan, he said to his younger brother, Since neither of us is\nyet married, and we live so lovingly together, a thought is come\ninto my head: let us both marry in one day, and let us choose two\nsisters out of some family that may suit our quality; --what do you\nthink of this fancy? I must tell you, brother, answered Nourreddin\nAli, that it is very suitable to our friendship --there cannot be a\nbetter thought; for my part, I am ready to agree to any thing you\nshould think fit. But hold, this is not all, said Schemseddin\nMohammed; my fancy carries me farther: suppose both our wives should\nconceive the first night of our marriage, and should happen to be\nbrought to bed on one day, yours of a son, and mine of a daughter\n--we will give them to one another in marriage, when they come to\nage. Nay, said Nourreddin Ali, aloud, I must acknowledge that this\nprospect is admirable; such a marriage will perfect our union, and I\nwillingly consent to it. But then, brother, said he farther, if this\nmarriage should happen, would you expect that my son should settle a\njointure on your daughter? There is no difficulty in that, replied\nthe other; for I am persuaded, that besides the usual articles of\nthe marriage contract, you will not fail to promise, in his name, at\nleast three thousand sequins, three good manors, and three slaves.\nNo, said the younger, I will not consent to that: are we not\nbrethren, and equal in title and dignity? Do not you and I both know\nwhat is just? The male being nobler than the female, it is your part\nto give a large dowry with your daughter. By what I perceive, you\nare a man that would have your business done at another man\u2019s\ncharge.\n\nAlthough Nourreddin Ali spoke these words in jest, his brother,\nbeing of an ill-temper, was offended at it, and falling into a\npassion, A mischief upon your son, said he, since you prefer him\nbefore my daughter! I wonder you had so much confidence as to\nbelieve him worthy of her; --you must needs have lost your judgment\nto think you are my equal, and say we are colleagues. --I would have\nyou to know, you fool, that since you are so impudent, I would not\nmarry my daughter to your son, though you would give him more than\nyou are worth. This pleasant quarrel between two brothers about the\nmarriage of their children before they were born, went so far, that\nSchemseddin Mohammed concluded with threatening: Were I not\nto-morrow, said he, to attend the sultan, I would treat you\naccording as you deserve; but at my return, I shall make you\nsensible that it does not become a younger brother to speak so\ninsolently to his elder brother, as you have done to me. Upon this,\nhe retired to his apartment, and his brother went to bed.\n\nSchemseddin Mohammed rose very early next morning, and goes to the\npalace to attend the sultan, who went to hunt about Cairo, near the\npyramids. As for Nourreddin Ali, he was very uneasy all the night;\nand, considering that it would not be possible for him to live\nlonger with a brother, who treated him with so much haughtiness, he\nprovided a good mule, furnished himself with money, jewels,\nprovisions and victuals, and having told his people that he was\ngoing on a private journey for two or three days, he departed.\n\nWhen he was out of Cairo, he rode by the desert towards Arabia; but\nhis mule happening to tire by the way, he was forced to continue his\njourney on foot. A courier that was going to Balsora, by good\nfortune, overtaking him, took him up behind him. As soon as the\ncourier came to Balsora, Nourreddin Ali alighted, and returned him\nthanks for his kindness. As he went about to seek for a lodging, he\nsaw a person of quality, with a great retinue, coming along, to whom\nall the people showed the greatest respect, and stood still till he\npassed by; Nourreddin Ali stopt among the rest. This was the grand\nvizier to the sultan of Balsora, who walked through the city to see\nthat the inhabitants kept good order and discipline.\n\nThis minister casting his eyes by chance on Nourreddin Ali, found\nsomething extraordinary in his aspect, looked very attentively upon\nhim, and as he came near him, and saw him in a traveller\u2019s habit,\nhe stood still, asked him who he was, and from whence he came. Sir,\nsaid Nourreddin Ali, I am an Egyptian, born at Cairo, and have left\nmy country because of the unkindness of a near relation, and am\nresolved to travel through the world, and rather to die than to\nreturn home again. The grand vizier, who was a reverend old\ngentleman, after hearing these words, said to him, Son, beware; do\nnot pursue your design; there is nothing but misery in the world;\nyou are not sensible of the hardships you must endure: come, follow\nme; I may perhaps make you forget the thing that has forced you to\nleave your own country.\n\nNourreddin Ali followed the grand vizier who soon perceived his good\nqualities, and fell so much in love with him, that one day he said\nto him in private, My son, I am, as you see, so far gone in years,\nthat there is no likelihood I shall live much longer. Heaven has\nbestowed only one daughter upon me, who is as beautiful as you are\nhandsome, and now fit for marriage. Several people of the greatest\nquality at this court have desired her for their sons, but I could\nnot grant their request. I have a love for you, and think you so\nworthy to be received into my family, that, preferring you before\nall those that have sought her, I am ready to accept you for my\nson-in-law. If you like the proposal, I will acquaint the sultan my\nmaster that I have adopted you by this marriage, and I will pray him\nto grant you the reversion of my dignity of grand vizier in the\nkingdom of Balsora. In the mean time nothing being more requisite\nfor me than ease in my old age, I will not only put you in\npossession of my estate, but leave the administration of public\naffairs to your management.\n\nWhen the grand vizier had made an end of this kind and generous\nproposal, Nourreddin Ali fell at his feet, and expressing himself in\nterms that demonstrated his joy and gratitude, told the vizier that\nhe was at his command in every thing. Upon this the vizier sent for\nhis chief domestics, ordered them to furnish the great hall of his\npalace, and prepare a great feast: he afterwards sent to invite the\nnobility of the court and city to honour him with their company; and\nwhen they were all met, (Nourreddin Ali having now told him who he\nwas,) he said to those lords, for he thought it proper to speak thus\non purpose to satisfy such of them to whom he had refused his\nalliance, --I am now, my lords, to discover a thing to you which\nhitherto I have kept secret. I have a brother, who is grand vizier\nto the sultan of Egypt, as I am to the sultan of this kingdom. This\nbrother has but one son, whom he would not marry in the court of\nEgypt, but sent him hither to marry my daughter, that both our\nbranches may be re-united. His son, whom I knew to be my nephew as\nsoon as I saw him, is the young gentleman I here present to you, and\nis to be my son-in-law. I hope you will do me the honour to be\npresent at this wedding, which I am resolved to celebrate this day.\nThe noblemen, who could not take it ill that he preferred his nephew\nbefore all the great matches that had been proposed to him, said\nthat he had very good reason for what he did, 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 Balsora\u2019s house, having testified\ntheir satisfaction at the marriage of his daughter with Nourreddin\nAli, sat down to dinner, which lasted a long while; and the latter\ncourse was sweetmeats, of which every one, according to custom, took\nwhat they thought fit. The notaries came in with the marriage\ncontract, the chief lords signed it, and when the company departed,\nthe grand vizier ordered his servants to prepare a bath, and had\nevery thing in readiness for Nourreddin Ali to bathe. He had fine\nnew linen, and every thing else provided for him in the most curious\nmanner. When he had washed and dried himself, he was going to put on\nhis former apparel, but had an extraordinary rich suit brought him.\nBeing dressed and perfumed with the most odoriferous essences, he\nwent to see the grand vizier, his father-in-law, who was exceedingly\nwell pleased with his genteel mien; and having made him sit down, My\nson, said he, you have declared unto me who you are, and the quality\nyou had at the court of Egypt. You have also told me of a difference\nbetwixt you and your brother, which occasioned you to leave your\ncountry. I desire you to make me your entire confidant, and to\nacquaint me with the cause of your quarrel; for now you have no\nreason either to doubt me, or to conceal any thing from me.\n\nNourreddin Ali gave him an account of every circumstance of the\nquarrel; at which the vizier burst out into a fit of laughter, and\nsaid, This is one of the oddest things that I ever have 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 brother\nupon such a frivolous matter; but I find he is in the wrong to be\nangry at what you only spoke in jest, and I ought to thank Heaven\nfor that difference which has procured me such a son-in-law. But,\nsaid the old gentleman, it is late, and time for you to retire; go\nto your bride, my son, she expects you; to-morrow I will present you\nto the sultan, and hope he will receive you in such a manner as\nshall satisfy us both.\n\nNourreddin Ali took leave of his father-in-law, and went to his\nspouse\u2019s apartment. It is remarkable, continued Giafar, that\nSchemseddin Mohammed happened also to marry at Cairo the very same\nday that this marriage was solemnized at Balsora, the particulars of\nwhich are as fellow:\n\nAfter Nourreddin Ali left Cairo, with an intention never to return,\nSchemseddin Mohammed, his elder brother, who was gone a hunting with\nthe sultan of Egypt, did not come back in a month; for the sultan\nloved that game extremely, and therefore continued the sport all\nthat while. Schemseddin at his return ran to Nourreddin Ali\u2019s\napartment, but was much surprised when he understood, that under\npretence of taking a journey of two or three days, he went away on a\nmule the same day that the sultan went a hunting, and had never\nappeared since. It vexed him so much the more, because he did not\ndoubt but the hard words he had given him were the cause of his\ngoing away. He sent a messenger in search of him, who went to\nDamascus, and as far as Aleppo, but Nourreddin was then at Balsora.\nWhen the courier returned, and brought word that he heard no news of\nhim, Schemseddin Mohammed intended to make further inquiry after him\nin other parts, and in the mean time had a fancy to marry, and\nmatched with the daughter of one of the greatest lords in Cairo,\nupon the same day his brother married the daughter of the grand\nvizier of Balsora.\n\nBut this is not all, said Giafar: at the end of nine months\nSchemseddin Mohammed\u2019s wife was brought to bed of a daughter at\nCairo, and on the same day Nourreddin\u2019s wife brought forth a son\nat Balsora, who was called Bedreddin Hassan.\n\nThe grand vizier of Balsora testified his joy by great gifts and\npublic entertainments for the birth of his grandson: and to show his\nson-in-law the great esteem he had for him, he went to the palace,\nand most humbly besought the sultan to grant Nourreddin Ali his\noffice, that he might have the comfort before his death to see his\nson-in-law made grand vizier in his stead.\n\nThe sultan, who had taken a great liking to Nourreddin, when his\nfather presented him after his marriage, and had ever since heard\nevery body speak well of him, readily granted his father-in-law\u2019s\nrequest, and caused Nourreddin immediately to put on the robe of\ngrand vizier.\n\nThe next day, when the father saw his son-in-law preside in council,\nas he himself had done, and perform all the offices of grand vizier,\nhis joy was complete. Nourreddin Ali behaved himself so well in\nevery thing, that one would have thought he had been all his\nlifetime employed in such affairs. He continued afterwards to assist\nin council every time when the infirmities of age would not permit\nhis father-in-law to appear.\n\nThe old gentleman died about four years after, with great\nsatisfaction to see a branch of his family that promised so fair to\nsupport the grandeur of it.\n\nNourreddin Ali performed his last duty to him with all possible love\nand gratitude. And as soon as his son Bedreddin Hassan had attained\nto the age of seven years, he provided him a most excellent tutor,\nwho taught him such things as became his birth. The child had a\nready wit, and a genius capable of receiving all the good\ninstructions that could be given.\n\nAfter Bedreddin Hassan had been two years under the tuition of his\nmaster, who taught him perfectly to read, he learnt the Koran by\nheart. His father, Nourreddin Ali, put him afterwards to other\ntutors, by whom his mind was cultivated to such a degree, that when\nhe was twelve years of age he had no more occasion for them; and\nthen, as his physiognomy promised wonders, he was admired by all\nthat looked upon him.\n\nHitherto, Nourreddin Ali had kept him to his study, and had not yet\nbrought him in public; but now he carried him to the palace, on\npurpose to have the honour of kissing the sultan\u2019s hand, who\nreceived him very graciously. The people that saw him in the streets\nwere charmed with his gentle mien, and gave him a thousand blessings.\n\nHis father proposing to make him capable of supplying his place,\nspared no cost for that end, and brought him up to business of the\ngreatest moment, on purpose to qualify him betimes. In short, he\nomitted nothing to advance a son he loved so well. But as he began\nto enjoy the fruits of his labour, he was all of a sudden taken with\na violent fit of sickness; and finding himself past recovery,\ndisposed himself to die a good mussulman.\n\nIn that last and precious moment he forgot not his son Bedreddin,\nbut called for him, and said, My son, you see this world is\ntransitory; there is nothing durable but in that which I shall\nspeedily go to. You must therefore from henceforth begin to fit\nyourself for this charge, as I have done; you must prepare for it\nwithout murmuring, and so as to have no trouble of conscience for\nnot acting the part of a real honest man. As for your religion, you\nare sufficiently instructed in it by what you have learnt from your\ntutors and your own study; and as to what belongs to an honest man,\nI shall give you some instructions, which I hope you will make good\nuse of. As it is a necessary thing to know one\u2019s self, and that\nyou cannot come to that knowledge without you first understand who I\nam, I shall now tell it you.\n\nI am, said he, a native of Egypt; my father, your grandfather, was\nfirst minister to the sultan of that kingdom. I myself had the\nhonour to be vizier to that same sultan, and so has my brother, your\nuncle, who I suppose is yet alive; his name is Schemseddin Mohammed.\nI was obliged to leave him, and come into this country, where I have\nraised myself to the high dignity I now enjoy. But you will\nunderstand all these matters more fully by a manuscript that I shall\ngive you.\n\nAt the same time Nourreddin Ali pulled out his pocket-book, which he\nhad written with his own hand, and carried always about him, and\ngiving it to Bedreddin Hassan, Take it, said he, and read it at your\nleisure; you will find, among other things, the day of my marriage,\nand that of your birth; these are such circumstances as perhaps you\nmay hereafter have occasion to know, therefore you must keep it very\ncarefully.\n\nBedreddin Hassan being most afflicted to see his father in that\ncondition, and sensibly touched with this discourse, could not but\nweep when he received the pocket-book, and promised at the same time\nnever to part with it.\n\nThat very moment Nourreddin Ali fainted, so that it was thought he\nwould have expired; but he came to himself again, and uttered these\nwords:\n\nMy son, said he, the first instruction I give you is, not to make\nyourself familiar with all sorts of people. The way to live happy is\nto keep your mind to yourself, and not to tell your thoughts easily.\n\nSecondly, Not to do violence to any body whatever; for in that case\nyou will draw every body\u2019s hatred upon you. You ought to consider\nthe world as a creditor, to whom you owe moderation, compassion, and\nforbearance.\n\nThirdly, Not to say a word when you are reproached: for, as the\nproverb says, He that keeps silence is out of danger. And in this\ncase particularly you ought to practise it. You also know what one\nof our poets says upon this subject, That silence is the ornament\nand safeguard of life; That our speech ought not to be like a storm\nof rain that spoils all. Never did any man yet repent of having\nspoken too little, whereas many have been sorry that they spoke so\nmuch.\n\nFourthly, To drink no wine, for that is the source of all vices.\n\nFifthly, To be frugal in your way of living: if you do not squander\nyour estate away, it will maintain you in time of necessity. I do\nnot mean you should be either too liberal or too niggardly; for\nthough you have never so little, if you husband it well, and lay it\nout on proper occasions, you shall have many friends; but if, on the\ncontrary, you have great riches, and make but a bad use of them, all\nthe world will forsake you, and leave you to yourself.\n\nIn short, Nourreddin Ali continued till the last moment of his\nbreath to give good advice to his son; and when he was dead, he was\nmagnificently interred with all the honours due to his quality.\nBedreddin Hassan, of Balsora, for so he was called, because born in\nthat town, was so overwhelmed with grief for the death of his\nfather, that instead of a month\u2019s time to mourn, according to\ncustom, he kept himself close shut up in tears and solitude about\ntwo months, without seeing any body, or so much as going abroad to\npay his duty to the sultan of Balsora; who, being displeased at his\nneglect, looked upon it as a slight put on his court and person,\nsuffered his passion to prevail, and in his fury, called for the new\ngrand vizier, (for he had created a new one as soon as Nourreddin\nAli died,) commanded him to go to the house of the deceased, and\nseize upon it, with all his other houses, lands, and effects,\nwithout leaving any thing for Bedreddin Hassan, and to bring him\nprisoner along with him.\n\nThe new grand vizier, accompanied with a great many messengers\nbelonging to the palace, justices, and other officers, went\nimmediately to execute his commission. But one of Bedreddin\nHassan\u2019s slaves happening accidentally to come into the crowd, no\nsooner understood the vizier\u2019s errand, but he ran before in all\nhaste to give his master warning. He found him sitting in the porch\nof his house, as melancholy as if his father had been but newly\ndead. He fell down at his feet out of breath, and after he had\nkissed the hem of his garment, cried out, My lord, save yourself\nimmediately. Bedreddin Hassan, lifting up his head, What is the\nmatter? what news dost thou bring? --My lord, said he, there is no\ntime to be lost; the sultan is horribly incensed against you, and he\nhas sent people to take all you have, and also to seize your person.\n\nThe words of this faithful and affectionate slave put Bedreddin\nHassan into great confusion. May not I have so much time, said he,\nas to take some money and jewels along with me? --No, sir, replied\nthe slave; the grand vizier will be here this moment: begone\nimmediately; save yourself. Bedreddin Hassan rose up from his sofa\nin all haste, put his feet in his sandals, and after he had covered\nhis head with the tail of his gown, that his face might not be\nknown, he fled, without knowing what way to go, to avoid the\nimpending danger.\n\nThe first thought that came into his head was to get out of the next\ngate with all speed. He ran without stopping till he came to the\npublic burying-ground, and since it was growing dark, he resolved to\npass that night on his father\u2019s tomb. It was a large edifice, in\nform of a dome, which Noureddin Ali built when he was alive.\nBedreddin met a very rich Jew by the way, who was a banker and\nmerchant, and was returning from a place where his affairs had\ncalled him to the city.\n\nIsaac, the Jew, after he had paid his respects to Bedreddin Hassan,\nby kissing his hand, said, My lord, dare I be so bold as to ask\nwhither you are going at this time of night all alone, and so much\ntroubled? Has any thing disquieted you? --Yes, said Bedreddin; a\nwhile ago I was asleep, and my father appeared to me in a dream,\nlooking very fiercely upon me, as if he were extraordinarily angry.\nI started out of my sleep very much frightened, and came out\nimmediately to go and pray upon his tomb.\n\nMy lord, said the Jew (who did not know the true reason why\nBedreddin left the town,) your father of happy memory, and my good\nlord, had store of merchandize in several vessels, which are yet at\nsea, and belong to you; I beg the favour of you to grant me the\nfirst refusal of them before any other merchant I am able to pay\ndown ready money for all the goods that are in your ships: and to\nbegin, if you will give me those that happen to come in the first\nship that arrives in safety, I will pay you down in part of payment\na thousand sequins. And drawing out a bag from under his gown, he\nshowed it him, sealed up with one seal.\n\nBedreddin Hassan being banished from home, and dispossessed of all\nthat he had in the world, looked upon this proposal of the Jew as a\nfavour from heaven, and therefore accepted it with a great deal of\njoy. My lord, said the Jew, then you sell unto me, for a thousand\nsequins, the lading of the first of your ships that shall arrive in\nport. --Yes, answered Bedreddin, I sell it you for a thousand\nsequins; it is done. Upon this the Jew delivered him the bag of a\nthousand sequins, and offered to count them, but Bedreddin Hassan\nsaved him the trouble, and said he would trust his word. Since it is\nso, my lord, said he, be pleased to favour me with a small note in\nwriting of the bargain we have made. And having said this, he pulled\nthe inkhorn from his girdle, and taking a small reed out of it\nneatly cut for writing, he presented it to him, with a piece of\npaper he took out of his letter-case; and whilst he held the\ninkhorn, Bedreddin Hassan wrote these words:\n\n\u201cThis writing is to testify, that Bedreddin Hassan of Balsora has\nsold to Isaac the Jew, for the sum of one thousand sequins, received\nin hand, the lading of the first of his ships that shall arrive in\nthis port.\n\n    \u201cBedreddin Hassan of Balsora.\u201d\n\nThis note he delivered to the Jew, who put it in his letter-case,\nand then took his leave of him.\n\nWhile Isaac pursued his journey to the city, Bedreddin Hassan made\nthe best of his way to his father Nourreddin Ali\u2019s tomb. When he\ncame to it, he bowed his face to the ground, and, with his eyes full\nof tears, deplored his miserable condition. Alas! said he,\nunfortunate Bedreddin, what will become of thee? Whither canst thou\nfly for refuge against the unjust prince that persecutes thee? Was\nit not enough to be afflicted for the death of so dear a father?\nMust fortune needs add new misfortunes to just complaints? He\ncontinued a long time in this posture, but at last rose up again,\nand leaning his head upon his father\u2019s sepulchre, his sorrows\nreturned more violently than before; so that he sighed and mourned,\ntill, overcome with heaviness, he stretched himself all along upon\nthe floor, and fell asleep.\n\nHe had not slept long, when a genie, who had retired to that\ncemetery during the day, and was intending, according to his custom,\nto range about the world at night, espying this young man in\nNourreddin Ali\u2019s tomb, he entered, and finding Bedreddin lying on\nhis back, was surprised at his beauty. When the genie had\nattentively considered Bedreddin Hassan, he said to himself, To\njudge of this creature by his good mien, he would seem to be an\nangel of the terrestrial paradise, whom God has sent to put the\nworld in a flame with his beauty. At last after he had satisfied\nhimself with looking upon him, he took a flight into the air, where\nmeeting by chance with a fairy, they saluted one another; after\nwhich, he said to her, Pray descend with me into the cemetery, where\nI stay, and I will show you a prodigious beauty, which is worthy\nyour admiration as well as mine. The fairy consented, and both\ndescended; in an instant they came into the tomb. Look ye, said the\ngenie to the fairy, showing her Bedreddin Hassan, did you ever see a\nyoung man of a better shape, and more beautiful than this?\n\nThe fairy having attentively observed Bedreddin, returned to the\ngenie: I must confess, said she, that he is a very handsome man; but\nI just now came from seeing an object at Cairo, more admirable than\nthis, and if you will hear me, I will tell you a strange story\nconcerning her. You will very much oblige me in so doing, answered\nthe genie. You must know then, said the fairy, (for I will tell it\nyou at length), that the sultan of Egypt has a vizier called\nSchemseddin Mohammed, who has a daughter of about twenty years of\nage, the most beautiful and complete person that ever was known. The\nsultan having heard of this young lady\u2019s beauty, sent the other\nday for her father, and told him, I understand you have a daughter\nto marry; I have a mind to marry her: will not you consent to it?\nThe vizier, who did not expect this proposal, was troubled at it;\nand instead of accepting it joyfully, which another in his place\nwould certainly have done, he answered the sultan, May it please\nyour majesty, I am not worthy of the honour you confer upon me, and\nI most humbly beseech you to pardon me, if I do not agree to your\nrequest. You know I had a brother called Nourreddin Ali, 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 on a\nsudden, and since that time I have had no account of him till within\nthese four days, that I heard he died at Balsora, being grand vizier\nto the sultan of that kingdom.\n\nHe has left a son behind him, and there having been an agreement\nbetween us to match our children together, if ever we had any, I am\npersuaded he intended that match when he died, and being desirous to\nfulfil the promise on my part, I conjure your majesty to grant me\nleave. You have in your court many other lords who have daughters as\nwell as I, on whom you may please to bestow that honour.\n\nThe sultan of Egypt, provoked at this bold denial of Schemseddin\nMohammed, said to him in a passion, which he could not restrain, Is\nthis the way you requite my proposal to stoop so low as to desire\nyour alliance? I know how to revenge your daring to prefer another\nto me, and I swear that your daughter shall be married to the most\ncontemptible and ugly of all my slaves; and having spoken those\nwords, he angrily bid the vizier begone, who went home to his house\nfull of confusion, and extraordinarily sad.\n\nThis very day, the sultan sent for one of his grooms who is\nhump-backed, big-bellied, crook-legged, and as ugly as a hobgoblin;\nand after having commanded Schemseddin Mohammed to consent to marry\nhis daughter to this ghastly slave, he caused the contract to be\nmade and signed by witnesses in his own presence. The preparations\nfor this fantastical wedding are all ready, and this very moment all\nthe slaves belonging to the lords of the court of Egypt are waiting\nat the door of a bath, each with a flambeau in his hand, for the\ncrook-backed groom, who is bathing himself, to go along with them to\nhis bride, who is already dressed to receive him; and when I\ndeparted from Cairo, the ladies met for that purpose were going to\nconduct her in her nuptial attire to the hall, where she is to\nreceive her hump-backed bridegroom, and is this minute now expecting\nhim. I have seen her, and do assure you, that no person can look\nupon her without admiration.\n\nWhen the fairy left off speaking, the genie said to her, Whatever\nyou think or say, I cannot be persuaded that the girl\u2019s beauty\nexceeds that of this young man. I will not dispute it with you,\nanswered the fairy; for I must confess he deserves to be married to\nthat charming creature which they design for hump-back. And I think\nit were a deed worthy of us to obstruct the sultan of Egypt\u2019s\ninjustice, and to put this young gentleman in the room of the slave.\n--You are in the right, answered the genie; I am extremely obliged\nto you for so good a thought, let us deceive him. I consent to your\nrevenge upon the sultan of Egypt; let us comfort a distressed\nfather, and make his daughter as happy as she thinks herself\nmiserable. I will no my utmost endeavour to make this project\nsucceed, and I am persuaded you will not be backward. I will be at\nthe pains to carry him to Cairo before he awake, and afterwards\nleave it to your care to carry him elsewhere, when we have\naccomplished our design.\n\nThe fairy and the genie having thus concerted what they had to do,\nthe genie lifted up Bedreddin Hassan gently, and with an\ninconceivable swiftness carried him through the air, and set him\ndown at the door of a public house, next to the bath, whence\nhump-back was to come with the train of slaves that waited for him.\nBedreddin Hassan awaked that very moment, and was mightily surprised\nto find himself in the middle of a city he knew not. He was going to\ncry out, and to ask where he was; but the genie touched him gently\non the shoulder, and forbid him to speak a word. Then he put a torch\nin his hand, and bid him go and mix with the crowd at the door of\nthe bath --follow them till you come into a hall, where they are\ngoing to celebrate a marriage. The bridegroom is a hump-backed\nfellow, and by that you will easily know him. Put yourself at the\nright hand as you go in, and then immediately open the purse of\nsequins you have in your bosom, and distribute them among the\nmusicians and dancers as they go along; and when you are got into\nthe hall, give money also to the female slaves you see about the\nbride, when they come near you; but every time you put your hand in\nyour purse, be sure to take out a whole handful, and do not spare\nthem. Observe to do every thing exactly as I have told you, with\ngreat presence of mind; be not afraid of any person or thing, and\nleave the rest to a superior power, who will order matters as he\nthinks fit.\n\nYoung Bedreddin being well instructed in all that he was to do,\nadvanced towards the door of the bath; the first thing he did was to\nlight his torch as that of a slave; and then mixing among them as if\nhe belonged to some nobleman of Cairo, he marched along as they did,\nand followed hump-back, who came out of the bath, and mounted a\nhorse out of the sultan\u2019s own stable.\n\nBedreddin Hassan coming near to the musicians, and men and women\ndancers, who went just before the bridegroom, pulled out time after\ntime whole handfuls of sequins, which he distributed among them; and\nas he thus gave his money with an unparalleled grace and engaging\nmien, all who received it cast their eyes upon him; and after they\nhad a full view of his face, they found him so handsome and comely,\nthat they could not look off again.\n\nAt last they came to Schemseddin Mohammed\u2019s gate, who was\nBedreddin Hassan\u2019s uncle, and little thought his nephew was so\nnear. The doorkeepers, to prevent any disorder, kept back all the\nslaves that carried torches, and would not let them come in.\nBedreddin was likewise refused; but the musicians, who had free\nentrance, stood still, and protested they would not go in, if they\nhindered him from going along with them. He is not one of the\nslaves, said they: look upon him, and you will soon be satisfied as\nto that. He is certainly a young stranger who is curious to see the\nceremonies observed at weddings in this city; and saying thus, they\nput him in the midst of them, and carried him in, whether the\nporters would or no; they took his torch out of his hand, and gave\nit to the first they met: having brought him into the hall, they\nplaced him at the right hand of the hump-backed bridegroom, who sat\nnear the vizier\u2019s daughter on a throne most richly adorned.\n\nShe appeared very lovely in all her dresses, but in her face there\nwas nothing to be seen but vexation and mortal grief. The cause of\nthis was easy to be guessed at, when she had by her side a\nbridegroom so very deformed; and so unworthy of her love. The throne\nof that ill matched couple was in the midst of a sofa. The ladies of\nthe emirs, viziers, and those of the sultan\u2019s bedchamber, and\nseveral other ladies of the court and city, were placed on each\nside, a little lower, every one according to their quality, and all\nof them so finely and richly dressed, that it was one of the\npleasantest sights that could be seen, each of them holding a large\nwax taper in their hand.\n\nWhen they saw Bedreddin Hassan come into the room, they all fixed\ntheir eyes upon him, and admiring his shape, his behaviour, and the\nbeauty of his face, they could not forbear looking upon him. When he\nwas set down, every one left their seats and came near to him to\nhave a full view of his face, and almost all of them, as they turned\nto their seats, found themselves moved with tender passion.\n\nThe disparity between Bedreddin Hassan and the hump-backed groom,\nwho made such a horrible figure, occasioned a great murmuring among\nthe company, insomuch that the ladies cried out, We must give our\nbride to this handsome young gentleman, and not to this ugly\nhump-back. Nor did they rest here, but uttered imprecations against\nthe sultan, who, abusing his absolute power, would unite ugliness\nand beauty together. They did also upbraid the bridegroom, so as\nthey put him quite out of countenance, to the great satisfaction of\nthe spectators, whose shouts for some time put a stop to the concert\nof music in the hall. At last, the musicians began again, and the\nwomen who had dressed the bride came all about her.\n\nAt the sound of the instruments, the bride changed her dress seven\ndifferent times, and each time that she did so, she rose up from her\nseat, followed by her bride-woman, and passed by hump-back, without\ngiving him one look, and went towards Bedreddin Hassan, before whom\nshe presented herself in her new attire. On this occasion,\nBedreddin, according to the instructions given him by the genie,\nfailed not to put his hands in his purse, and pulled out handfuls of\nsequins, which he distributed among the women that followed the\nbride. Nor did he forget the players and dancers, but also threw\nmoney to them. It was pleasant to see how they pushed one another to\ngather it up. They showed themselves very thankful, and made him\nsigns that the young bride should be for him, and not for the\nhump-back fellow. The women that attended her, told her the same\nthing, and did not value whether the groom heard them or not; for\nthey put a thousand tricks upon him, which very much pleased the\nspectators.\n\nWhen the ceremony of changing habits was passed, the music ceased\nand went away, but made a sign to Bedreddin Hassan to stay behind.\nThe ladies did the same, and went all home, but those that belonged\nto the house. The bride went into a closet, whither her woman\nfollowed to undress her, and none remained in the hall but the\nhump-back groom, Bedreddin Hassan, and some of the domestics.\n\nHump-back, who was furiously mad at Bedreddin, suspecting him to be\nhis rival, gave him a cross look, and said, And thou, what dost thou\nwait for? Why art thou not gone as well as the rest? Begone.\nBedreddin having no pretence to stay, withdrew, not knowing what to\ndo with himself. But he was not gone out of the porch, when the\ngenie and the fairy met and stopped him. Whither are you going? said\nthe fairy; stay, for hump-back is not in the hall, he is gone out\nabout some business; you have nothing to do but return, and\nintroduce yourself into the bride\u2019s chamber. As soon as you are\nalone with her, tell her boldly that you are her husband, that the\nsultan\u2019s intention was only to make sport with the groom; and to\nmake this pretended bridegroom some amends, you had caused to be\nprepared for him in the stable, a good dish of cream. And then tell\nher all the fine things you can think on to persuade her; for being\nso handsome as you are, little persuasion will do; she will think\nherself happy in being deceived so agreeably. In the mean time, we\nwill take care that the hump-back shall not return, and let nothing\nhinder you from passing the night with your bride, for she is yours,\nand none of his.\n\nWhile the fairy thus encouraged Bedreddin, and instructed him how he\nshould behave himself, hump-back was really gone out of the room:\nfor the genie went to him in the shape of a great cat mewing at a\nmost fearful rate. The fellow called to the cat, he clapped his\nhands to make her flee; but instead of that the cat stood upon her\nhinder feet, staring with her eyes like fire, looking fiercely at\nhim, mewing louder than she did at first, and growing bigger till\nshe was as large as an ass. At this sight, hump-back would have\ncried out for help, but his fear was so great, that he stood gaping,\nand could not utter one word; and that he might have no time to\nrecover, the genie changed himself immediately into a large buffalo,\nand in this shape, called to him with a voice that redoubled his\nfear, Thou hump-backed villain! At these words, the affrighted groom\ncast himself upon the ground, and covering his face with his gown,\nthat he might not see this dreadful beast, Sovereign prince of\nbuffaloes, said he, what is it you want of me? --Wo be to thee,\nreplied the genie; hast thou the boldness to venture to marry my\nmistress? O my lord, said hump-back, I pray you to pardon me; if I\nam guilty, it is through ignorance; I did not know that this lady\nhad a buffalo to her sweetheart; command me in any thing you please,\nI give you my oath that I am ready to obey you. --By death, replied\nthe genie, if thou goest out from hence, or speakest a word till the\nsun rises, I will crush thy head to pieces; but then I give thee\nleave to go from hence: I warn thee to make despatch, and not to\nlook back, but if thou hast the imprudence to return, it shall cost\nthee thy life. When the genie had done speaking, he transformed\nhimself into the shape of a man, took hump-back by the legs, and\nafter having set him against the wall, with his head downwards, if\nthou stir, said he, before the sun rise, as I have told thee\nalready, I will take thee by the heels again, and dash thy head in a\nthousand pieces against the wall.\n\nTo return to Bedreddin Hassan, who being prompted by the genie and\nthe presence of the fairy, got into the hall again, from whence he\nslipt 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,\nexhorting the bridegroom to do his duty like a man, without looking\nin to see if it was hump-back or another, and then locked the door,\nand retired.\n\nThe young bride was mightily surprised, instead of hump-back, to\nfind Bedreddin Hassan, who came up to her with the best grace in the\nworld. What! my dear friend, said she, by your being here at this\ntime of night, you must be my husband\u2019s comrade? --No, madam, said\nBedreddin, I am of another sort of quality than that ugly hump-back.\nBut, said she, you do not consider that you speak degradingly of my\nhusband. --He your husband, madam! replied he; can you retain those\nthoughts so long? Be convinced of your mistake, madam, for so much\nbeauty must never be sacrificed to the most contemptible of all\nmankind. It is I, madam, 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 your\nreal husband. You might have observed how the ladies, the musicians,\nthe dancers, your women, and all the servants of your family, were\npleased with this comedy. We have sent that hump-backed fellow to\nhis stable again, where he is just now eating a dish of cream; and\nyou may rest assured that he will never appear any more before your\neyes.\n\nAt this discourse, the vizier\u2019s daughter, who was more like one\ndead than alive when she came into the bride-chamber, put on a gay\nair, which made her so handsome that Bedreddin was perfectly charmed\nwith her.\n\nI did not expect, said she, to meet with so pleasing a surprise; and\nI had condemned myself to live unhappily all my days. But my good\nfortune is so much the greater that I possess in you a man that is\nworthy of my tenderest affection.\n\nHaving spoken thus, she undressed herself and stept into bed.\nBedreddin Hassan, overjoyed to see himself possessor of so many\ncharms, made haste to follow her, and laid his clothes upon a chair,\nwith the bag that he got from the Jew; which, notwithstanding all\nthe money he had pulled out, was still full. He likewise laid off\nhis turban, and put on a night-cap that had been ordained for\nhump-back, and so went to bed in his shirt and drawers. [60] His\ndrawers were of blue satin, tied with a lace of gold.\n\nWhilst the two lovers were asleep, the genie, who had met again with\nthe fairy, told her that it was high time to finish what was begun,\nand so successfully carried on hitherto: then let us not be\novertaken by daylight, which will soon appear; go you and bring off\nthe young man again without awaking him.\n\nThe fairy went into the bed-chamber where the two lovers were fast\nasleep, and took up Bedreddin Hassan just as he was, that is to say,\nin his shirt and drawers; and in company with the genie, with a\nwonderful swiftness flew away with him to the gates of Damascus, in\nSyria, where they arrived just at the time when the officers of the\nmosques, appointed for that end, were calling the people to come to\nprayers at break of day. The fairy laid Bedreddin Hassan softly on\nthe ground, and leaving him close by the gate, departed with the\ngenie.\n\nThe gate of the city being opened, and a great many people assembled\nto get out, they were mightly surprised to see Bedreddin Hassan\nlying in his shirt and drawers upon the ground. One said, He has\nbeen hard put to it to get away from his mistress, that he could not\nget time to put on his clothes. --Look ye, said another, how people\nexpose themselves: sure enough he has spent most part of the night\nin drinking with his friends, till he has got drunk; and then,\nperhaps, having occasion to go out, instead of returning, is come\nthis length, and not having his senses about him, was overtaken with\nsleep. Others were of another opinion; but nobody could guess what\nhad been the occasion of his coming thither.\n\nA small puff of wind happening to blow at the same time, uncovered\nhis breast, that was whiter than snow. Every one being struck with\nadmiration at the fineness of his complexion, they spoke so loud\nthat it awaked the young man.\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 a\ncrowd of people gazing at him. Gentlemen, said he, for God\u2019s sake\ntell me where I am, and what you would have of me? One of the crowd\nspoke to him, saying, Young man, the gates of the city were just now\nopened, and as we came out we found you lying here in this\ncondition, and stood still to look on you: Have you lain here all\nnight? and do not you know that you are at one of the gates of\nDamascus? --At one of the gates of Damascus! answered Bedreddin;\nsure you mock me. When I lay down to sleep last night I was at\nCairo. When he said these words, some of the people, moved with\ncompassion for him, said, It is pity that such a handsome young man\nshould have lost his senses! and so went away.\n\nMy son, said an old gentleman 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, for all that, said Bedreddin; for\nI swear to you, that I was all day yesterday at Balsora. He had no\nsooner said these words, but all the people fell into a fit of\nlaughter, and cried out, He\u2019s a fool, he\u2019s a madman. There were\nsome, however, that pitied him because of his youth; and one among\nthe company said to him, My son, you must certainly be crazed; you\ndo not consider what you say. Is it possible that a man could\nyesterday be at Balsora, the same night at Cairo, and next morning\nat Damascus? Sure you are asleep still: come, rouse up your spirits.\n--What I say, answered Bedreddin Hassan, is so true, that last night\nI was married in the city of Cairo. All those that laughed before\ncould not forbear laughing again, when he said so. Call yourself to\nmind, said the same person that spoke before; you have sure enough\ndreamt all this, and that fancy still possesses your brain. --I am\nsensible of what I say, answered the young man. Pray can you tell me\nhow it was possible for me to go in a dream to Cairo, where I am\nvery certain I was in person, and where my bride was seven times\nbrought before me, each time dressed in a different habit: and where\nI saw an ugly hump-backed follow, to whom they intended to give her?\nBesides, I want to know what is become of my gown, my turban, and\nthe bag of sequins I had at Cairo.\n\nThough he assured them that all these things were matter of fact,\nyet they could not forbear to laugh at him; which put him into such\nconfusion, that he knew not what to think of all those adventures.\n\nAfter Bedreddin Hassan had confidently affirmed all that he said to\nbe true, he rose up to go into the town, and every one that followed\nhim called out, A madman, a fool. Upon this some looked out at their\nwindows, some came to their doors, and others joined with those that\nwere about him, calling out as they did, A madman; but not knowing\nfor what In this perplexity of mind the young gentleman happened to\ncome before a pastrycook\u2019s shop, and went into it to avoid the\nrabble.\n\nThis pastrycook 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\u2019s\ncontent, yet he was dreaded by all those that knew him; wherefore,\nas soon as he came out to the rabble that followed Bedreddin, they\ndispersed.\n\nThe pastrycook seeing them all gone, asked him who he was, and what\nbrought him thither? Bedreddin Hassan told him all, not concealing\nhis birth, nor the death of his father, the grand vizier. He\nafterwards gave him an account why he left Balsora; now, after he\nhad fallen asleep the night following upon his father\u2019s tomb, he\nfound himself when he awaked at Cairo, where he had married a lady;\nand at last, in what amazement he was, when he found himself at\nDamascus, without being able to penetrate into all those wonderful\nadventures.\n\nYour history is one of the most surprising, said the pastrycook; but\nif you will follow my advice, you shall let no man know those\nmatters you have revealed to me, but patiently expect till heaven\nthink fit to put an end to your misfortunes; you shall be free to\nstay with me till then; and since I have no children, I will own you\nfor my son, if you consent to it; and after you are so adopted, you\nmay freely walk up and down the city, without being exposed any more\nto the insults of the rabble.\n\nThough this adoption was below the son of a grand vizier, Bedreddin\nwas glad to accept of the pastrycook\u2019s proposals, judging it the\nbest thing he could do, considering his then circumstances. The cook\nclothed him, called for witnesses, and went before a notary, where\nhe acknowledged him for his son. After this Bedreddin staid with him\nby the name of Hassan, and learned the pastry trade.\n\nWhilst this passed at Damascus, Schemseddin Mohammed\u2019s daughter\nawaked, and finding Bedreddin gone out of bed, supposed he had risen\nsoftly for fear of disturbing her, but he would soon return. As she\nwas in expectation of him, her father, the vizier (who was mightily\nvexed at the affront put upon him by the sultan) came and knocked at\nher chamber-door with a resolution to bewail her sad destiny. He\ncalled her by her name, and she knowing him by his voice,\nimmediately got up, and opened the door. She kissed his hand, and\nreceived him with so much satisfaction in her countenance as\nsurprised the vizier, (who expected to find her drowned in tears,\nand as much grieved as himself.) Unhappy wretch! said he in a\npassion, do you appear before me thus? After the hideous sacrifice\nyou have just consummated, can you see me with so much satisfaction?\n\nThe new bride seeing her father angry at her pleasant countenance,\nsaid to him, For God\u2019s sake, sir, do not reproach me wrongfully;\nit is not the hump-back fellow, whom I abhor more than death; it is\nnot that monster I have married; every body laughed him to scorn,\nand put him so out of countenance, that he was forced to run away\nand hide himself, to make room for a charming young gentleman, who\nis my real husband. --What fable do you tell me? said Schemseddin\nMohammed, roughly. What! did not crook-back lie with you to-night?\n--No, sir, said she; it was that young gentleman I told you of, who\nhas large eyes and black eyebrows. At these words, the vizier lost\nall patience, and fell into a terrible passion. --Ah! wicked woman,\nsaid he, you will make me distracted! --It is you, father, said she,\nthat put me out of my senses by your incredulity. --So it is not\ntrue, replied the vizier, that hump-back --Let us talk no more of\nhump-back, said she; a curse upon hump-back! must I always have him\ncast in my dish? Father, said she, I tell you once more, that I did\nnot bed with him, but with my dear spouse, who, I believe, is not\nvery far off.\n\nSchemseddin Mohammed went out to seek him, but instead of seeing him\nwas mightily surprised to find hump-back with his head on the\nground, and his heels uppermost, as the genie had set him against\nthe wall. What is the meaning of this? said he; who placed you thus?\nCrook-back, knowing it to be the vizier, answered, Alas! alas! it is\nyou then that would marry me to the mistress of a buffalo, the\nsweetheart of an ugly genie; I won\u2019t be your fool; you shan\u2019t\nput a trick upon me.\n\nSchemseddin Mohammed, when he heard hump-back speak thus, thought he\nwas raving, and bid him move, and stand upon his legs. I will take\ncare how I do that, said hump-back, unless the sun be risen. --Know,\nsir, that when I came hither last night, on a sudden, a black cat\nappeared to me, and in an instant grew as big as a buffalo. I have\nnot forgot what he said to me; therefore, you may go about your\nbusiness, and leave me here. The vizier, instead of going away, took\nhim by the heels, and made him get up. Then hump-back ran off as\nfast as he could, without looking behind him; and coming to the\npalace, presented himself to the sultan, who laughed heartily when\nhe told him the story how the genie had served him.\n\nSchemseddin Mohammed returned to his daughter\u2019s chamber more\nastonished than before. Well, then, my abused daughter, said he, can\nyou give me no farther light into this matter? --Sir, said she, I\ncan give you no other account than what I have done already. Here\nare my husband\u2019s clothes, which he left upon the chair; perhaps\nyou may find somewhat there, that may solve your doubt. Then she\nshowed him Bedreddin\u2019s turban, which he took and examined narrowly\non all sides. I should take this to be a vizier\u2019s turban, if it\nwere not made after the Moussoul [61] fashion. But perceiving\nsomewhat to be sewed between the stuff and the lining, he called for\nscissors, and having unript it, found the paper which Nourreddin Ali\ngave Bedreddin, his son, as he was dying, and which he had put into\nhis turban for more security.\n\nSchemseddin Mohammed having opened the paper, knew his brother\nNourreddin\u2019s hand, and found this superscription, \u2018For my son,\nBedreddin Hassan.\u2019 Before he could make any reflections upon it,\nhis daughter delivered him the bag that lay under his clothes, which\nhe likewise opened, and found it full of sequins; for, as I told you\nbefore, notwithstanding all the liberality of Bedreddin, it was\nstill kept full by the genie and fairy. He read these following\nwords upon a note in the bag: \u2018A thousand sequins belonging to\nIsaac the Jew.\u2019 And these lines underneath, which the Jew wrote\nbefore he parted from Bedreddin Hassan. \u2018Delivered to Bedreddin\nHassan, for the cargo of the first of those ships that formerly\nbelonged to Nourreddin Ali, his father, of worthy memory, sold unto\nme upon its arrival in this place.\u2019 He had scarce read these\nwords, when he gave a shout, and fainted away.\n\nThe vizier, Schemseddin Mohammed, being recovered from his fit by\nthe help of his daughter, and the woman she called to her\nassistance. Daughter, said he, do not frighten yourself at this\naccident; the reason of it is such as you can scarcely believe. Your\nbridegroom is your cousin, the son of Nourreddin Ali. The thousand\nsequins in the bag puts me in mind of a quarrel I had with my dear\nbrother; it is, without doubt, the dowry he gives you. God be\npraised for all things, and particularly for this miraculous\nadventure, which demonstrates his almighty power. Then looking again\nupon his brother\u2019s writing, he kissed it several times, shedding\nabundance of tears.\n\nHe looked over the book from one end to the other, where he found\nthe date of his brother\u2019s arrival at Balsora, of his marriage, and\nof the birth of Bedreddin Hassan; and when he compared the same with\nthe day of his own marriage, and the birth of his daughter at Cairo,\nhe admired how every thing did agree so exactly.\n\nThe happy discovery put him into such a transport of joy, that he\ntook up the book, with the ticket of the bag, and showed it to the\nsultan, who pardoned what was past, and was so much pleased with the\nrelation of this adventure, that he caused it, with all its\ncircumstances, to be put in writing for the use of posterity.\n\nMeanwhile, the vizier Schemseddin Mohammed could not comprehend the\nreason why his nephew did not appear; he expected him every moment,\nand was impatient to have him in his arms. After he had expected him\nseven days in vain, he searched for him through all Cairo, but could\nhear no news of him, which perplexed him very much. This is the\nstrangest adventure, said he, that ever man met with, and not\nknowing what alteration might happen, he thought fit to draw up in\nwriting with his own hand, after what manner the wedding had been\nsolemnized; how the hall and his daughter\u2019s bed-chamber were\nfurnished, and other circumstances. He likewise made the turban, the\nbag, and the rest of Bedreddin\u2019s things, into a bundle, and locked\nthem up.\n\nAfter some days were past, the vizier\u2019s daughter perceived herself\nwith child, and was brought to bed of a son after nine months. A\nnurse was provided for the child, besides other women and slaves to\nwait upon him; and his grandfather called him Agib. [62]\n\nWhen young Agib had attained the age of seven, the vizier, instead\nof teaching him to read at home, put him to school with a master,\nwho was in great esteem; and two slaves were ordered to wait upon\nhim. Agib used to play with his schoolfellows, and as they were all\ninferior to him in quality, they showed him great respect, according\nto the example of their master, who many times would pass by faults\nin him, that he would not pass by in the rest. This complaisance\nspoiled Agib, so that he became proud and insolent, would have his\nplayfellows bear all from him, and would bear nothing from them, but\nbe master every where; and if any one took the liberty to thwart\nhim, he would call them a thousand names, and many times beat them.\n\nIn short, all the scholars were weary of his company, and complained\nof him to their master. He answered, that they must have patience.\nBut when he saw that Agib still grew more and more insolent, and\noccasioned him a great deal of trouble, Children, said he to his\nscholars, I find Agib is a little insolent gentleman; I will show\nyou a way how to mortify him, so as he shall never torment you any\nmore: nay, I believe it will make him leave the school. When he\ncomes again to-morrow, and that you have a mind to play together,\nset yourselves round him, and do one of you call out, Come, let us\nplay, but upon condition, that they who desire to play shall tell\nhis own name, and the names of his father and mother, and they who\nrefuse it shall be esteemed bastards, and not suffered to play in\nour company.\n\nNext day, when they were gathered together, they failed not to\nfollow their master\u2019s 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, and so\ndid Agib, We consent to it. Then he that spoke first asked every one\nthe question, and all fulfilled the condition except Agib, who\nanswered, my name is Agib; my mother is called the lady of beauty,\nand my father Schemseddin Mohammed, vizier to the sultan.\n\nAt these words all the children cried out, Agib, what did you say?\nThat is not the name of your father, but your grandfather. A curse\non you, said he in a passion; what! dare you say that the vizier\nSchemseddin Mohammed is not my father? No, no, cried they, with\ngreat laughter, he is but your grandfather, and you shall not play\nwith us. Nay, we will take care how we come into your company.\nHaving spoken thus, they all left him, scoffing him, and laughing\namong themselves, which mortified Agib so much that he wept.\n\nThis schoolmaster, who was near, and heard all that passed, came\njust at the nick of time, and speaking to Agib, said he, Agib, do\nnot you know that the vizier Schemseddin Mohammed is none of your\nfather, but your grandfather, and the father of your mother, the\nlady of beauty? We know not the name of your father no more than you\ndo. We only know that the sultan was going to marry your mother to\none of his grooms, a hump-back fellow; but a genie lay with her.\nThis is hard upon you, and ought to teach you to treat your\nschoolfellows with less haughtiness than you have done hitherto.\n\nLittle Agib being nettled at this, ran hastily out of the school,\nand went home crying. He came straight to his mother\u2019s chamber,\nwho being alarmed to see him thus grieved, asked him the reason. He\ncould not answer for tears, his grief was so great; and it was but\nnow and then he could speak plain enough to repeat what had been\nsaid to him, and occasioned his sorrow.\n\nWhen he came to himself, Mother, said he, for the love of God be\npleased to tell me who is my father. My son, said she, Schemseddin\nMohammed, that every day makes so much of you, is your father. You\ndo not tell me truth, said he; he is your father, and none of mine.\nBut whose son am I? At this question, the lady of beauty calling to\nmind her wedding-night, which had been succeeded by a long\nwidowhood, began to shed tears, repining bitterly at the loss of so\nlovely a husband as Bedreddin.\n\nWhilst the lady of beauty and Agib were both weeping, in comes the\nvizier, who demanded the reason of their sorrow. The lady told him\nthe shame Agib had undergone at school, which so much affected the\nvizier, that he joined his tears with theirs, and judging from this,\nthat the misfortune which had happened to his daughter was the\ncommon discourse of the town, he was quite out of patience.\n\nBeing thus afflicted, he went to the sultan\u2019s palace, and falling\nprostrate at his feet, most humbly prayed him to give him leave to\nmake a journey into the provinces of the Levant, and particularly to\nBalsora, in search of his nephew Bedreddin Hassan. For he could not\nbear any longer that the people of the city should believe a genie\nhad got his daughter with child.\n\nThe sultan was much concerned at the vizier\u2019s affliction, approved\nhis resolution, and gave him leave to go. He caused a passport also\nto be written for him, praying, in the most obliging terms that\ncould be, all kings and princes, in whose dominions the said\nBedreddin might sojourn, to grant that the vizier might bring him\nalong with him.\n\nSchemseddin Mohammed, not knowing how to express his thankfulness to\nthe sultan for this favour, thought it his duty to fall down before\nhim a second time, and the floods of tears he shed gave him\nsufficient testimony of his gratitude. At last, having wished the\nsultan all manner of prosperity, he took his leave, and went home to\nhis house, where he disposed every thing for his journey; and the\npreparations for it were carried on with so much diligence, that in\nfour days after he left the city, accompanied by his daughter the\nlady of beauty, and his grandson, Agib.\n\nThey travelled nineteen days without stopping any where; but on the\ntwentieth, arriving in a very pleasant mead, at a small distance\nfrom the gate of Damascus, they stopped there, and pitched their\ntents upon the banks of a river, that runs through the town, and\ngives a very agreeable prospect to its neighbourhood.\n\nThe vizier Schemseddin Mohammed declared he would stay in that\npleasant place two days, and pursue his journey on the third. In the\nmean time he gave leave to his retinue to go to Damascus: and almost\nall of them made use of it: some influenced by curiosity to see a\ncity they had heard so much of, and others by the opportunity of\nvending there the Egyptian goods they had brought with them, or\nbuying stuffs, and the rarities of the country. The beautiful lady\ndesiring her son Agib might share in the satisfaction of viewing\nthat celebrated city, ordered the black eunuch that acted in quality\nof his governor, to conduct him thither, and take care he came to no\nharm.\n\nAgib, in magnificent apparel, went along 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 narrower\nview of him; others put their heads out of the windows, and those\nwho passed along the street were not satisfied in stopping to look\nupon him; but kept pace with him, to prolong the pleasure of the\nagreeable sight: in fine, there was nobody that did not admire him,\nand bestow a thousand benedictions on the father and mother that had\ngiven being to so fine a child. By chance the eunuch and he passed\nby the shop where Bedreddin Hassan was, and there the crowd was so\ngreat, that they were forced to halt.\n\nThe pastrycook, that had adopted Bedreddin Hassan, had died some\nyears before, and left him his shop and all his estates. So\nBedreddin became master of the shop, and managed the pastry trade so\ndexterously, that he gained great reputation in Damascus. Bedreddin\nseeing so great a crowd before his door, that were gazing so\nattentively upon Agib, and the black eunuch, stepped out to see them\nhimself; and having cast his eyes particularly upon Agib, presently\nfound himself moved, he knew not how, nor why. 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 father;\nwho laying aside his business, made up to Agib, and with an engaging\nair, said to him: My little lord, who hast won my soul, be so kind\nas to come into my shop, and eat a bit of such fare as I have; that\nI may have the pleasure of admiring you at my ease. These words he\npronounced with such tenderness, that tears trickled from his eyes.\nLittle Agib was moved when he saw it, and turning to the eunuch,\nThis honest man, said he, has a face that pleases me; he speaks in\nsuch an affectionate manner, that I cannot avoid complying with his\nrequest; let us step into his house and taste his pastry. It would\nbe a fine thing truly, replied the slave, to see the son of a\nvizier, like you, go into a pastrycook\u2019s shop to eat; do not\nimagine that I will suffer any such thing. --Alas! my little lord,\ncried Bedreddin, it is a great piece of 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, pray\ndo not hinder this young lord from granting me the favour I ask; do\nnot put that piece of mortification upon me: rather do me the honour\nto walk in along with him, and by so doing, you will let the world\nknow, that, though your outside is brown like a chestnut, your\ninside is as white. Do you know, continued he, that I am master of\nthe secret to make you white, instead of being black as you are?\nThis set the eunuch a laughing, and then he asked Bedreddin what\nthat secret was. I will tell you, replied Bedreddin, and so he\nrepeated some verses in praise of black eunuchs, implying, that it\nwas by their ministry that the honour of princes and of all great\nmen was secured. The eunuch was so charmed with these verses, that,\nwithout further hesitation, he suffered Agib to go into the shop,\nand went in with him himself.\n\nBedreddin Hassan was overjoyed in having obtained what he had so\npassionately desired, and falling again to the work he had thus\ndiscontinued, I was making, said he, cream-tarts; and you must, with\nsubmission, eat of them. I am persuaded you will find them very\ngood; for my own mother, who makes them incomparably well, taught me\nto make them, 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 sugar,\nset it before Agib, who found it very delicious.\n\nAnother was served up to the eunuch, and he gave the same judgment.\n\nWhile they were both eating, Bedreddin Hassan minded Agib very\nattentively; and after looking upon him again and again, it came\ninto his mind, that for any thing he knew, he might have such a son\nby his charming wife, from whom he had been so soon and so cruelly\nseparated; and the very thought drew tears from his eyes. He was\nthinking to have put some question to little Agib about his journey\nto Damascus; but the child had no time to gratify his curiosity, for\nthe eunuch pressing him to return to his grandfather\u2019s tents, took\nhim away as soon as he had done eating. Bedreddin Hassan, not\ncontented with looking after him, shut up his shop immediately, and\nwent after him.\n\nBedreddin Hassan ran after Agib and the eunuch, and overtook them\nbefore they were got to the gate of the city. The eunuch perceiving\nhe followed them was extremely surprised. You impertinent fellow,\nyou, said he, with an angry tone, what do you want? My dear friend,\nreplied Bedreddin, do not you trouble yourself. I have a little\nbusiness out of town, that is just come into my head, and I must\nneeds go and look after it. This answer, however, did not at all\nsatisfy the eunuch, who, turning to Agib, said, This is all owing to\nyou; I foresaw I should repent of my complaisance; you would needs\ngo into the man\u2019s shop --it was not wisely done in me to give you\nleave. Perhaps, replied Agib, he has real business out of town, and\nthe road is free to every body. While this passed, they kept walking\ntogether, without looking behind them, till they came near the\nvizier\u2019s tents, upon which they turned about to see if Bedreddin\nfollowed them. Agib, perceiving he was within two paces of him,\nreddened and whitened alternately, according to the different\nemotions that affected him. He was afraid the grand vizier, his\ngrandfather, should come to know he had been in the pastry shop, and\nhad eaten there. In this dread, he took up a pretty large stone that\nlay at his foot, and throwing it at Bedreddin Hassan, hit him in the\nforehead, which gave him such a wound, that his face was covered\nwith blood. Then he took to his heels, and ran under the eunuch\u2019s\ntent. The eunuch gave Bedreddin to understand, he had no reason to\ncomplain of a mischance that he had merited and brought upon himself.\n\nBedreddin turned towards the city, stanching the blood of this wound\nwith his apron, which he had not put off. I was a fool, said he\nwithin himself, for leaving my house, to take so much pains about\nthis brat; for doubtless he would never have used me after this\nmanner, if he had not thought I had some ill design against him.\nWhen he got home, he had his wound dressed, and softened the sense\nof his mischance by the reflection, that there was an infinite\nnumber of people upon the earth that were yet more unfortunate than\nhe.\n\nBedreddin kept on the pastry trade at Damascus, and his uncle,\nSchemseddin Mohammed, went from thence three days after his arrival.\nHe went by way of Emaus, Hanah, and Halep; then crossed the\nEuphrates, and, after passing through Mardin, Moussoul, Singier,\nDiarbeker, and several other towns, arrived at last at Balsora; and\nimmediately after his arrival, desired audience of the sultan, who\nwas no sooner informed of Schemseddin\u2019s quality than he gave him\naudience, received him very favourably, and asked him the occasion\nof his journey to Balsora. Sir, replied the vizier Schemseddin\nMohammed, I come to know what is become of the son of Nourreddin\nAli, my brother, who has had the honour to serve your majesty.\nNourreddin Ali, said the sultan, has been dead a long while; as for\nhis son, all I can tell you of him is, that he disappeared all on a\nsudden, about two months after his father\u2019s death, and nobody has\nseen him since, notwithstanding all the inquiry I ordered to be\nmade. But his mother, who is daughter of one of my vizier\u2019s, is\nstill alive. Schemseddin Mohammed desired leave of the sultan to see\nher, and carry her to Egypt; and having obtained his request,\nwithout tarrying till the next day for the satisfaction of seeing\nher, inquired after her place of abode, and that very hour went to\nher house, accompanied with his daughter and his grandson.\n\nThe widow of Nourreddin Ali lived still in the same place where her\nhusband had lived. It was a fine stately house, adorned with marble\npillars; but Schemseddin did not stop to view it. At his entry, he\nkissed the gate, and the piece of marble upon which his brother\u2019s\nname was written in letters of gold. He asked to speak with his\nsister-in-law, and was told by her servants that she was in a small\nbuilding in form of a dome, which they showed to him, in the middle\nof a very spacious court. This tender mother used to spend the\ngreatest part of the day and night in that room, which she had built\nfor a representation of the tomb of Bedreddin Hassan, whom she took\nto be dead after so long absence. At that very minute she was\npouring tears over the thoughts of that dear child, and Schemseddin\nMohammed entering, found her buried in the deepest affliction.\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 Balsora. He also acquainted his sister-in-law with all\nthat had passed at Cairo on his daughter\u2019s wedding night, and\nafter informing her of the surprise occasioned by the discovery of\nthe paper sewed up in Bedreddin\u2019s turban, presented to her Agib\nand the beautiful Lady.\n\nThe widow of Nourreddin Ali, who had still continued sitting like a\nwoman dejected and weaned from the affairs of this world, no sooner\nunderstood by his discourse that her dear son, whom she lamented so\nbitterly, might still be alive, than she arose, and repeatedly\nembraced the beautiful lady and her grandchild, Agib, and perceiving\nin the youth the features of Bedreddin, shed tears of a quite\ndifferent stamp from what she had been so long accustomed to shed.\nShe could not forbear kissing the youth, who, for his part, received\nher embraces with all the demonstrations of joy he was capable of.\nMadam, said Schemseddin Mohammed, it is time to wipe off your tears,\nand cease your groans; you must think of going along with us to\nEgypt. The sultan of Balsora gives me leave to carry you thither,\nand I doubt not you will agree to it. I am in hopes we shall at last\nfind out your son, my nephew; and if that comes to pass, the history\nof him, of you, of my own daughter, and of my own adventures, will\ndeserve to be committed to writing, and transmitted to posterity.\n\nThe widow of Nourreddin Ali heard this proposal with pleasure, and\nfrom that minute, ordered preparations to be made for her departure.\nWhile that was doing, Schemseddin Mohammed desired a second\naudience; and after taking leave of the sultan, who dismissed him\nwith ample marks of respect, and gave him a considerable present for\nhimself and another of great value for the sultan of Egypt, set out\nfrom Balsora 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 enter\nthe city; and gave out he would tarry there three days, to give his\nsuite rest, and buy up the best curiosities he could meet with, and\nsuch as were worthy of being presented to the sultan of Egypt.\n\nWhile he was employed in looking upon and picking out the finest\nstuffs that the principal merchants had brought to his tents, Agib\nbegged the black eunuch, his governor, to carry him through the\ncity, in order to see what he had not leisure to view as he passed\nbefore, and to know what was become of the pastry cook that he had\nwounded with a stone. The eunuch complying with his request, went\nalong with him towards the city, after leave obtained of the\nbeautiful lady his mother.\n\nThey entered Damascus by the Paradise gate, which lay next to the\ntents of the vizier Schemseddin Mohammed. --They walked through the\ngreat squares and the public places where the richest goods were\nsold, and took a view of the ancient mosque of the Ommiad\u00e6, [63] at\nthe hour of prayer, between noon and sunset. [64] After that they\npassed by the shop of Bedreddin Hassan, whom they found still\nemployed in making cream tarts. I salute you, sir, said Agib. Do you\nknow me? do you remember you ever saw me before? Bedreddin, hearing\nthese words, cast his eyes upon him, and knowing him, (such was the\nsurprising effect of paternal love!) felt the same emotion as when\nhe saw him first of all. He was confused, and, instead of making an\nanswer, continued a long time without uttering one word. But after\nall, recovering himself, My little lord, said he, be so kind as to\ncome once more with your governor into my house, and taste a cream\ntart, I beg your lordship\u2019s pardon for the trouble I gave you in\nfollowing you out of town; I was at that time not myself, I did not\nknow what I did. You drew me after you, and the violence of the\nattraction was so strong, that I could not withstand it.\n\nAgib, astonished at what Bedreddin said, replied thus: There is an\nexcess in the kindness you express, and unless you engage, under\noath, not to follow me when I go from hence, I will not enter into\nyour house. If you give me your promise, and prove a man of your\nword, I will visit you again to-morrow, since the vizier, my\ngrandfather, is still employed in buying up things for a present to\nthe sultan of Egypt. My little lord, replied Bedreddin, I will do\nwhatever you would have me to do. This said, Agib and the eunuch\nwent into the shop.\n\nPresently after, Bedreddin set before them a cream tart that was\nfull as good as what they had eaten of when they saw him before.\nCome, said Agib, addressing himself to Bedreddin, sit down by me,\nand eat with us. Bedreddin sat down, and made offers to embrace\nAgib, as a testimony of the joy he conceived upon his sitting by\nhim. But Agib shoved him off, desiring him to be quiet, not to be\ntoo familiar in his friendship, and to content himself with seeing\nand conversing with him. Bedreddin obeyed, and fell to singing a\nsong, the words of which he composed off-hand, in praise of Agib. He\ndid not eat, but made it his business to serve his guests. When they\nhad done eating, he brought them water to wash with, [65] and a very\nwhite napkin to wipe their hands. Then he filled a large china cup\nwith sherbet, and put snow into it; [66] and offering it to Agib,\nThis, said he, is sherbet of roses, and the pleasantest you will\nmeet with all the town over; I am sure you never tasted better. Agib\nhaving drank of it with pleasure, Bedreddin Hassan took the cup from\nhim, and presented it to the eunuch, who drank it all off at once.\n\nIn fine, Agib and his governor having fared well, returned thanks to\nthe pastrycook for their good entertainment, and moved homewards, it\nbeing then late. When they arrived at the tents of Schemseddin\nMohammed, they repaired immediately to the lady\u2019s tent. Agib\u2019s\ngrandmother received him with transports of joy: her son, Bedreddin,\nran always in her mind, and in embracing Agib, the remembrance of\nhim drew tears from her eyes. Ah! my child said she, my joy would be\nperfect if I had the pleasure of embracing your father, Bedreddin\nHassan, as I now embrace you. Then sitting down to supper, she made\nAgib sit by her, and put several questions to him, relating to the\nwalk he had been taking along with the eunuch; and when he\ncomplained of his weak stomach, she gave him a piece of cream tart,\nwhich she had made for herself, and was indeed very good, for I told\nyou before that she could make them better than the best pastry\ncooks. She likewise gave some to the eunuch; but both of them had\neaten so heartily at Bedreddin\u2019s house, that they could not taste\na bit.\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 uncut;\nand Schaban, [67] (such was the eunuch\u2019s name,) did the same\nthing. The widow of Nourreddin Ali observed with regret that her\ngrandson did not like the tart. What! said she, does my child thus\ndespise the work of my hands! Be it known to you, no one in the\nworld can make such cream tarts besides myself and your father,\nBedreddin Hassan, whom I myself taught to make them. My good mother,\nreplied Agib, give me leave to tell you, if you do not know how to\nmake better, there is a pastry-cook in this town that out-does you\nin that point. We were at his shop but now, and eat of one that is\nmuch better than yours.\n\nThis said, the grandmother, frowning upon the eunuch, How now,\nSchaban, said she, was the care of my grandchild committed to you,\nto carry him to eat at pastry-shops like a beggar? Madam, replied\nthe eunuch, it is true, we did stop a little while and talked with\nthe pastry-cook, but we did not eat with him. Pardon me, said Agib,\nwe went into his shop, and there eat a cream tart. Upon this, the\nlady more incensed against the eunuch than before, rose in a passion\nfrom the table, and running to the tent of Schemseddin Mohammed,\ninformed him of the eunuch\u2019s crime, and that in such terms, as\ntended more to inflame the vizier, than to dispose him to excuse it.\n\nSchemseddin Mohammed, who was naturally passionate, did not fail, on\nthis occasion, to display his anger. He went forthwith to his\nsister-in-law\u2019s tent, and making up to the eunuch, What! said he,\nyou pitiful wretch, have you the impudence to abuse the trust I\nrepose in you? Schaban, though sufficiently convicted by Agib\u2019s\ntestimony, denied the fact still. But the child persisting in what\nhe had affirmed, Grandfather, said he, I can assure you we not only\neat, but we eat both of us so heartily, that we have no occasion for\nsupper; besides, the pastry-cook treated us also with a great bowl\nof sherbet. Well, cried Schemseddin, turning to Schaban, after all\nthis, will you continue to deny that you entered the pastry-cook\u2019s\nhouse, and eat there? Schaban had still the impudence to swear it\nwas not true. Then you are a liar, said the vizier, I believe my\ngrandchild before I believe you; but after all, said he, if you can\neat up this cream tart that is upon the table, I shall be persuaded\nyou have truth on your side.\n\nThough Schaban had crammed himself up to the throat before, he\nagreed to stand that test, and accordingly took a piece of tart; but\nhis stomach rising against it, he was obliged to spit it out of his\nmouth. Yet he still pursued the lie, and pretended he had over-eat\nhimself the day before, so that he had not recovered his appetite.\nThe vizier, irritated with all the eunuch\u2019s frivolous pretences,\nand convinced of his guilt, ordered him to lie flat upon the ground,\nand to be soundly bastinadoed. In undergoing this punishment, the\npoor wretch shrieked out aloud, and at last, confessed the truth. I\nown, cries he, that we did eat a cream tart at the pastry-cook\u2019s,\nand that it was much better than that upon the table.\n\nThe widow of Nourreddin Ali thought it was out of spite to her, and\nwith a design to mortify her, that Schaban commended the\npastry-cook\u2019s tart: and accordingly said, I cannot believe the\ncook\u2019s tarts are better than mine: I am resolved to satisfy myself\nupon that head. Where does he live? Go immediately, and buy me one\nof his tarts.\n\nThe eunuch having received of her what money was sufficient for that\npurpose, repaired to Bedreddin\u2019s shop, and addressing himself to\nBedreddin, Good Mr. Pastry-cook, said he, take this money here, and\nlet me have one of your cream tarts; one of our ladies wants to\ntaste them. Bedreddin chose one of the best, and gave it to the\neunuch: Take this, said he; I will engage it is an excellent one,\nand I can assure you that no person is able to make the like, unless\nit be my mother, who perhaps is still alive.\n\nSchaban returned speedily to the tents, and gave the tart to\nNourreddin\u2019s widow, and she, snatching it greedily, broke a piece\noff; but no sooner put it to her mouth, than she cried out, and\nswooned away. Schemseddin Mohammed, who was present, was extremely\nsurprised at the accident: he threw water himself upon her face, and\nwas very active in succouring her. As soon as she came to herself,\nMy God! cried she, it must needs be my dear son, my dear Bedreddin,\nthat made this tart.\n\nWhen the vizier Schemseddin Mohammed heard his sister-in-law say,\nthat the maker of the tart, brought by the eunuch, must needs be\nBedreddin Hassan, he was overjoyed; but reflecting that his joy\nmight prove groundless, and in all likelihood the conjecture of\nNourreddin\u2019s widow was false, Madam, said he, why are you of that\nmind? Do you think there may not be a pastrycook in the whole world,\nthat knows how to make cream tarts as well us your son? --I own,\nreplied she, there may be pastrycooks that can make as good tarts as\nhe; but forasmuch as I make them after a peculiar manner, and nobody\nbut my son is let into the secret, it must absolutely be he that\nmade this. Come, my brother, added she, in a transport, let us call\nup mirth and joy; we have at last found what we have been so long\nlooking for. --Madam, said the vizier in answer, I entreat you to\nmoderate your impatience, for we shall quickly know the bottom of\nit. All we have to do, is to bring the pastrycook hither; and then\nyou and my daughter will readily distinguish whether it is Bedreddin\nor not. But you must both be hid, so as to have a view of Bedreddin,\nwhile he cannot see you; for I would not have our interview and\nmutual discovery laid at Damascus. My design is to delay the\ndiscovery till we return to Cairo, where I promise to regale you\nwith very agreeable diversion.\n\nThis said, he left the ladies in their tent, and retired to his own;\nwhere he called for fifty of his men, and said to them, Take each of\nyou a stick in your hands, and follow Schaban, who will conduct you\nto a pastrycook\u2019s in this city. When you arrive there, break and\ndash in pieces all you find in the shop: if he asks you why you\ncommit that disorder, only ask him again if it was not he that made\nthe cream tart, that was brought from his house. If he says he is\nthe man, seize his person, fetter him, and bring him along with you;\nbut take care you do not beat him, nor do him the least harm. Go,\nand lose no time.\n\nThe vizier\u2019s orders were immediately executed. The detachment\nconducted by the black eunuch, went with expedition to Bedreddin\u2019s\nhouse, and broke in pieces the plates, kettles, copper-pans, tables,\nand all the other moveables and utensils they met with, and drowned\nthe sherbet-shop with cream and comfits. Bedreddin, astonished at\nthe sight, said with a pitiful tone, Pray, good people, why do you\nserve me so? What is the matter? What have I done? Was it not you,\nsaid they, that sold this eunuch the cream tart? --Yes, replied he,\nI am the man: and who says any thing against it? I defy any one to\nmake a better. Instead of giving him an answer, they continued to\nbreak all around them, and the oven itself was not spared.\n\nIn the mean time the neighbours took the alarm, and surprised to see\nfifty armed men commit such a disorder, asked the reason of such\nviolence; and Bedreddin said once more to the actors of it, Pray\ntell me what crime I am guilty of, to have deserved this usage?\n--Was it not you, replied they, that made the cream tart you sold to\nthe eunuch? --Yes, yes, it is I, replied he; I maintain it is a good\none. I do not deserve such usage as you give me. However, without\nlistening to him, they seized his person, and snatching the cloth\noff his turban, tied his hands with it behind his back, and, after\ndragging him by force out of his shop, marched off.\n\nThe mob gathering, and taking compassion for Bedreddin, took his\npart, and offered opposition to Schemseddin\u2019s men; but that very\nminute up came some officers from the governor of the city, who\ndispersed the people, and favoured the carrying off of Bedreddin;\nfor Schemseddin Mohammed had in the mean time gone to the\ngovernor\u2019s house to acquaint him with what 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 of\nEgypt, was unwilling to refuse any thing to his master\u2019s vizier.\nSo Bedreddin was carried off, after all his cries and tears.\n\nIt was needless for Bedreddin Hassan to ask by the way those who\ncarried him off, what fault had been found with his cream tart; they\ngave him no answer. In short, they carried him to the tents, and\nmade him stay there till Schemseddin Mohammed returned from the\ngovernor of Damascus\u2019s house.\n\nUpon the vizier\u2019s return, Bedreddin Hassan was brought before him.\nMy lord, said Bedreddin, with tears in his eyes, pray do me the\nfavour to let me know wherein I have displeased you. --Why, you\nwretch you, said the vizier, was it not you that made the cream tart\nyou sent me? --I own I am the man, replied Bedreddin; but pray what\ncrime is that? --I will punish you according to your deserts, said\nSchemseddin; it shall cost you your life, for sending me such a\nsorry tart. --Good God! cried Bedreddin, what news is this! Is it a\ncapital crime to make a bad cream tart? --Yes, said the vizier, and\nyou are to expect no other usage from me.\n\nWhile this interview lasted, the ladies, who were hid, minded\nBedreddin narrowly, and readily knew him, notwithstanding he had\nbeen so long absent. They were so transported with joy, that they\nswooned away; and, when they recovered, would fain have ran up and\nfallen upon Bedreddin\u2019s neck; but the promise they had made to the\nvizier of not discovering themselves, restrained the tender emotions\nof love and of nature.\n\nSchemseddin Mohammed, having resolved to set out that very night,\nordered the tents to be struck, and the necessary preparations to be\nmade for his journey. And as for Bedreddin, he ordered him to be\nclapped into a chest or box well locked, and laid on a camel. When\nevery thing was got ready, the vizier and his retinue began their\nmarch, and travelled the rest of that night, and all the next day,\nwithout stopping. In the evening they halted, and Bedreddin was\ntaken out of his cage, in order to be served with the necessary\nrefreshments, but still carefully kept at a distance from his mother\nand his wife; and during the whole expedition, which lasted twenty\ndays, was served in the same manner.\n\nWhen they arrived at Cairo, they encamped in the neighbourhood of\nthat place. Schemseddin called for Bedreddin, gave orders, in his\npresence, to a carpenter to get some wood with all expedition, and\nmake a stake. Heyday, said Bedreddin, what do you mean to do with a\nstake? --Why to nail you to it, replied Schemseddin, then to have\nyou carried through all the quarters of the town, that the people\nmay have the spectacle of a worthless pastrycook, who makes cream\ntarts without pepper. This said, Bedreddin cried out so comically,\nthat Schemseddin had enough to do to keep his countenance. Good God!\ncried he, must I suffer a death, as cruel as it is ignominious, for\nnot putting pepper in a cream tart? and must I be rifled, and have\nall the goods in my house broken to pieces? Must I be imprisoned in\na chest, and at last nailed to a stake, and all for not putting\npepper in a cream tart? Good God! who ever heard of such a thing?\nAre these the actions of Mussulmen, of persons that make a\nprofession of probity and justice, and practise all manner of good\nworks? --With these words, he shed tears, and then renewing his\ncomplaint; No, continued he, never was man used so unjustly, nor so\nseverely. Is it possible they should be capable of taking a man\u2019s\nlife for not putting pepper in a cream tart? Cursed be all cream\ntarts, as well as the hour in which I was born! --Would to God I had\ndied that minute!\n\nDisconsolate Bedreddin did not cease his lamentations; and when the\nstake was brought, and the nails to fasten him to it, he cried out\nbitterly at the horrid sight. Heaven! said he, can you suffer me to\ndie an ignominious and painful death? And all this, for what crime?\nnot for 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 Schemseddin\nMohammed ordered Bedreddin to be clapped up again in his cage,\nsaying to him, Stay there till to-morrow; the day shall not be spent\nbefore I give orders for your death. Then the chest or cage was\ncarried away and laid upon the camel that had brought it from\nDamascus: at the same time, all the other camels were loaded again;\nand the vizier mounting his horse, ordered the camel that carried\nhis nephew to march before him, and so entered the city with all his\nsuite. After passing through several streets, where nobody appeared,\nevery one being in bed, he arrived at his house, where he ordered\nthe chest to be taken down, but not opened till farther orders.\n\nWhile his retinue were unlading the other camels, he took\nBedreddin\u2019s mother and his daughter aside, and addressed himself\nto the latter: God be praised, said he, my child, for this happy\noccasion of meeting your cousin and your husband. You remember, to\nbe sure, what order your chamber was in on your wedding-night: go\nand put every thing in the very same order they were then in; and in\nthe mean time, if your memory do not serve you, I can supply it by a\nwritten account, which I caused to be taken upon that occasion: as\nfor what else is to be done, I will take care of that.\n\nThe beautiful lady went joyfully about her father\u2019s orders; and he\nat the same time, began to put the things in the hall in the same\norder they were in when Bedreddin Hassan was there with the sultan\nof Egypt\u2019s hunch backed groom. As he went over his manuscript, his\ndomestics placed every moveable accordingly. The throne was not\nforgot, nor the lighted wax candles. When every thing was put to\nrights in the hall, the vizier went into his daughter\u2019s chamber,\nand put in their due place Bedreddin\u2019s clothes, with the purse of\nsequins. This done, he said to the beautiful lady, Undress yourself,\nmy child, and go to bed. As soon as Bedreddin enters your room,\ncomplain of his being from you so long, and tell him, that when you\nawaked you were astonished you did not find him by you. Press him to\ncome to bed again; and to-morrow morning you will divert your\nmother-in-law and me, in telling us what passes between you and him\nthis night. This said, he went from his daughter\u2019s apartment, and\nleft her to undress herself and go to bed.\n\nSchemseddin Mohammed ordered all his domestics to depart the hall,\nexcepting two or three, whom he ordered to stay there. These he\ncommanded to go and take Bedreddin out of the chest, to strip him to\nhis shirt and drawers, to conduct him in that condition to the hall,\nto leave him there all alone, and to shut the door upon him.\n\nBedreddin Hassan, though overwhelmed with grief, had been asleep all\nthe while, insomuch that the vizier\u2019s domestics had taken him out\nof the chest, and stripped him before he awaked, and carried him so\nsuddenly into the hall, that they did not give him time to bethink\nhimself where he was. When he found himself all alone in the hall,\nhe looked round him, and the objects of his sight recalling to\nmemory the circumstances of his marriage, he perceived, with\nastonishment, that it was the same hall where he had seen the\nsultan\u2019s groom of the stables. His surprise was still the greater,\nwhen approaching softly to the door of a chamber which he found\nopen, he spied within his own clothes in the same place where he\nremembered to have left them on his wedding-night. My God! said he,\nrubbing his eyes, am I asleep or awake?\n\nThe beautiful lady, who in the mean time was diverting herself with\nhis astonishment, opened the curtains of her bed all on a sudden,\nand bending her head forward, My dear lord, said she, with a soft,\ntender air, what do you do at the door? Prithee come to bed again!\nYou have been out of bed a long time. I was strangely surprised when\nI awaked in not finding you by me. Bedreddin Hassan\u2019s countenance\nchanged when he perceived that the lady who spoke to him was that\ncharming person that he had lain with before: so he entered the\nroom, but calling up the thoughts of all that had passed for a ten\nyears\u2019 interval, and not being able to persuade himself that it\nall could have happened in the compass of one night, he went to the\nplace where his clothes lay, and the purse of sequins, and after\nexamining them very carefully, By the living God, cried he, these\nare things that I can by no means comprehend! The lady, who was\npleased to see his confusion, said, once more, My lord, come to bed\nagain; what do you stand at? Then he stepped towards the bed, and\nsaid to her, Pray; madam, tell me, is it long since I left you?\n--The question, answered she, surprises me. Did not you rise from me\nbut now? Sure your thoughts are very busy. --Madam, replied\nBedreddin, I do assure you my thoughts are not very composed. I\nremember indeed to have been with you, but I remember, at the same\ntime, that I have lived since ten years at Damascus. Now, if I was\nactually in bed with you this night, I cannot have been with you so\nlong. These two things are inconsistent. Pray tell me what I am to\nthink; whether my marriage with you is an illusion, or whether my\nabsence from you is only a dream? --Yes, my lord, cried she,\ndoubtless, you were light-headed when you thought you were at\nDamascus. Upon this, Bedreddin laughed out heartily, and said, What\na comical fancy is this! I assure you, madam, this dream will be\nvery pleasant to you. Do but imagine, if you please, that I was at\nthe gate of Damascus in my shirt and drawers, as I am here now, that\nI entered the town with a halloo of a mob that followed and insulted\nme; that I fled to a pastry cook\u2019s, who adopted me, taught me his\ntrade, and left me all he had when he died; that after his death, I\nkept a shop. In fine, madam, I had an infinity of other adventures\ntoo tedious to recount: and all I can say, is, that it was well that\nI awaked, for they were going to nail me to a stake. --Oh lord! and\nfor what, cried the lady, feigning astonishment, would they have\nused you so cruelly? Sure you must have committed some enormous\ncrime. --Not in the least, replied Bedreddin; it was for nothing in\nthe world but a mere trifle, the most ridiculous thing you can think\nof. All the crime I was charged with was selling a cream tart that\nhad no pepper in it. --As for that matter, said the beautiful lady,\nlaughing heartily, I must say they did you great injustice. --Ah!\nmadam, replied he, that was not all. For this cursed cream tart, was\nevery thing in my shop broke to pieces, myself bound and fettered,\nand flung into a chest, where I lay so close, that methinks I am\nthere still. In fine, a carpenter was sent for, and he was ordered\nto get ready a stake for me; but thanks be to God, all those things\nare no more than a dream.\n\nBedreddin was not easy all night; he waked from time to time, and\nput the question to himself, whether he dreamed or was awake: he\ndistrusted his felicity, and to be sure whether it was true or not,\nopened the curtains, and looked round the room. I am not mistaken,\nsure, said he, this is the same chamber where I entered instead of\nthe hunch-backed groom of the stables, and I am now in bed with the\nfair lady that was designed for him. Daylight, which then appeared,\nhad not yet dispelled his uneasiness, when the vizier Schemseddin\nMohammed, his uncle, knocked at the door, and at the same time went\nin to bid him good-morrow.\n\nBedreddin Hassan was extremely surprised to see, all on a sudden, a\nman that he knew so well, and that now appeared with a quite\ndifferent air from that with which he pronounced the terrible\nsentence of death against him. Ah! cried Bedreddin, it was you that\ncondemned me so unjustly, to a kind of death, the thoughts of which\nmake me shudder; 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\u2019s relation made him\nsuspect the adventure,) he had been at his house, and had married\nhis daughter instead of the sultan\u2019s groom of the stables; then he\nacquainted him, that he had discovered him to be his nephew by a\nbook written by the hand of Nourreddin Ali, and pursuant to that\ndiscovery, had gone from Cairo to Balsora in quest of him. My dear\nnephew, added he, embracing him with every expression of tenderness,\nI ask your pardon for all I have made you undergo since I discovered\nyou. I had a mind to bring you to my house before I told you your\nhappiness; which ought now to be so much the dearer to you, as it\nhas cost you so much perplexity and affliction. To atone for all\nyour afflictions, comfort yourself with the joy of being in the\ncompany of those who ought to be dearest to you. While you are\ndressing yourself, I will go and acquaint your mother, who is beyond\nmeasure impatient to see you: and will likewise bring to you your\nson, whom you saw at Damascus, and for whom you showed so much\naffection without knowing him.\n\nNo words are of sufficient energy to express the joy of Bedreddin,\nwhen he saw his mother and his son. These three embraced and showed\nall the transports that love and tenderness could inspire. The\nmother spoke to Bedreddin in the most moving terms; she mentioned\nthe grief she had felt for his long absence, and the tears she had\nshed. --Little Agib, instead of flying his father\u2019s embraces, as\nat Damascus, received them with all the marks of pleasure. And\nBedreddin Hassan, divided between two objects so worthy of his love,\nthought he could not give sufficient marks of his affection.\n\nWhile this passed at Schemseddin Mohammed\u2019s, the vizier was gone\nto the palace to give the sultan an account of the happy success of\nhis voyage; and the sultan was so charmed with the recital of the\nstory, that he ordered it to be taken down in writing, and carefully\npreserved among the archives of the kingdom. After Schemseddin\u2019s\nreturn to his house, having prepared a noble feast, he sat down to\ntable with his family, and all the household passed the day in\nfestivity and mirth.\n\nThe vizier Giafar, having thus made an end of the story of Bedreddin\nHassan, told the caliph Haroun Alraschid, that this was what he had\nto relate to his majesty. The caliph found the story so surprising,\nthat without farther hesitation, he granted his slave Rihan\u2019s\npardon; and to condole the young man for the grief of having\nunhappily deprived himself of a woman whom he loved so tenderly,\nmarried him to one of his slaves, bestowed liberal gifts upon him,\nand maintained him till he died.\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of the Little Hunch-back.\n\n\nThere was in former times at Casgar, upon the utmost skirts of\nTartary, a tailor, that had a pretty wife, whom he doted on, and was\nreciprocally loved by her. One day as he sat at work, a little\nhunch-back came and eat down at the shop-door, and fell to singing\nand playing upon a tabor. The tailor took pleasure to hear him, and\nresolved to take him into his house to please his wife. This little\nfellow, said he to his wife, will divert us both this evening. He\ninvited him in, and the other readily accepted of the invitation; so\nthe tailor shut up his shop, and carried him home. As soon as they\ncame in, the tailor\u2019s wife having before laid the cloth, it being\nsupper time, set before them a good dish of fish; but as the little\nman was eating, he unluckily swallowed a large bone, of which he\ndied in a few minutes, notwithstanding all that the tailor and his\nwife could do to prevent it. Both were heartily frightened at the\naccident, knowing it happened in their house; and there was reason\nto fear that if the magistrates happened to hear of it they would be\npunished as murderers. However, the husband found an expedient to\nget rid of the corpse: he reflected there was a Jewish doctor that\nlived just by, and having presently contrived a scheme, his wife and\nhe took the corpse, the one by the feet, and the other by the head,\nand carried it to the physician\u2019s house. They knocked at the door,\nfrom which a steep pair of stairs led to his chamber. The servant\nmaid came down without any light, and opening the door, asked what\nthey wanted. Go up again, said the tailor, if you please, and tell\nyour master, we have brought him a man who is very ill, and wants\nhis advice. Here, said he, putting a piece of money into her hand,\ngive him that beforehand, to convince him that we do not mean to\nimpose on him. While the servant was gone up to acquaint her master\nwith the welcome news, the tailor and his wife nimbly conveyed the\nhunch-backed corpse to the head of the stairs, and leaving it there,\nhurried away.\n\nIn the mean time, the maid told the doctor, that a man and a woman\nwaited for him at the door, desiring he would come down and look at\na sick man, whom they had brought with them, and clapping into his\nhand the money she had received, the doctor was transported with\njoy: being paid beforehand, he thought it was a good patient, and\nshould not be neglected. Light, light, cried he to the maid; follow\nme nimbly. So saying, without staying for the light, he gets to the\nstair-head in such haste, that, stumbling against the corpse, he\ngave him a kick that made him tumble down to the stair-foot; he had\nalmost fallen himself along with him. A light! a light! cried he to\nthe maid; quick, quick! At last, the maid came with a light, and he\nwent down stairs with her; but when he saw that what he had kicked\ndown was a dead man, he was so frightened, that he invoked Moses,\nAaron, Joshua, Esdras, and all the other prophets of the law.\nUnhappy man that I am! said he, why did I attempt to come down\nwithout a light! I have killed the poor fellow that was brought to\nme to be cured; questionless, I am the cause of his death, and\nunless Esdras\u2019s ass [68] comes to assist me, I am ruined. Mercy on\nme! they will be here out of hand, and drag me out of my house for a\nmurderer.\n\nNotwithstanding the perplexity and jeopardy he was in, he had the\nprecaution to shut his door, for fear any one passing by in the\nstreet should observe the mischance of which he reckoned himself to\nbe the author. Then he took the corpse into his wife\u2019s chamber,\nwho was ready to swoon at the sight. Alas! cried she, we are utterly\nruined and undone, unless we fall upon some expedient to get the\ncorpse out of our house this night. Beyond all question, if we\nharbour it till morning, our lives must pay for it. What a sad\nmischance is this! What did you do to kill this man? That is not the\nquestion, replied the Jew; our business now is to find out a remedy\nfor such a shocking accident.\n\nThe doctor and his wife consulted together how to get rid of his\ndead corpse that night. The doctor racked his brain in vain, he\ncould not think of any stratagem to get clear; but his wife, who was\nmore fertile in invention, said, I have a thought just come into my\nhead: let us carry the corpse to the leads of our house, and tumble\nhim down the chimney into the house of the Mussulman, our next\nneighbour.\n\nThis Mussulman was one of the sultan\u2019s purveyors for furnishing\noil, butter, and all sorts of fat articles, and had a magazine in\nhis house, where the rats and mice made prodigious havoc.\n\nThe Jewish doctor approving the proposed expedient, his wife and he\ntook the little hunch-back up to the roof of the house; and,\nclapping ropes under his arm-pits, let him down the chimney into the\npurveyor\u2019s chamber so softly and dexterously, that he stood\nupright against the wall, as if he had been alive. When they found\nhe had reached the bottom, they pulled up the ropes, and left the\ncorpse in that posture. They were scarce got down into their\nchamber, when the purveyor went into his, being just come from a\nwedding-feast, with a lantern in his hand. He was greatly surprised\nwhen, by the light of his lantern, he descried a man standing\nupright in his chimney; but being naturally a stout man, and\napprehending it was a thief, he took up a good stick, and making\nstraight up to the hunch-back, Ah, said he, I thought it was the\nrats and mice that eat my butter and tallow, and it is you come down\nthe chimney to rob me! But I think you will not come here again upon\nthis errand. This said, he falls upon the man, and gives him many\nstrokes with his stick. The corpse fell down flat on the ground, and\nthe purveyor redoubled his blows; but, observing the body not to\nmove, he stood to consider a little, and then, perceiving it was a\ndead corpse, fear succeeded his anger. Wretched man that I am, said\nhe, what have I done! I have killed a man! Alas! I have carried my\nrevenge too far. Good God, unless thou pity me, my life is gone!\nCursed, ten thousand times accursed, be the fat and the oil that\ngave occasion to this my commission of such a criminal action! He\nstood pale and thunderstruck: he thought he saw the officers already\ncome to drag him to condign punishment, and could not tell what\nresolution to take.\n\n[Illustration: HUNCHBACK AND THE SULTAN\u2019S PURVEYOR.]\n\nThe sultan of Casgar\u2019s purveyor had never noticed the little\nman\u2019s hump-back when he was beating him; but as soon as he\nperceived it, he threw out a thousand imprecations against him. Ah,\nyou cursed hunch-back, cried he, you crooked son of a bitch! would\nto God you had robbed me of all my fat, and I had not found you\nhere! I had not then been so much perplexed for the sake of you and\nyour vile hunch. Oh! ye stars that twinkle in the heavens, give\nlight to none but me in this dangerous juncture. As soon as he had\nuttered these words, he took the crooked corpse upon his shoulders,\nand carried him out of doors to the end of the street, where he set\nhim upright, resting against a shop, and so trudged home again,\nwithout looking behind him.\n\nA few minutes before the break of day, a Christian merchant, who was\nvery rich, and furnished the sultan\u2019s palace with various articles\n--this merchant, I say, having sat up all night at a debauch,\nstepped at that instant out of his house to go to bathe. --Though he\nwas drunk, he was sensible that the night was far spent, and that\nthe people would quickly be called to the morning prayers, at break\nof day; therefore he quickened his pace to get in time to the bath,\nfor fear any Mussulman meeting him in his way to the mosque should\ncarry him to prison for a drunkard. As he came to the end of the\nstreet, he stopped upon some necessary occasion against the shop\nwhere the sultan\u2019s purveyor had put the hunch-backed corpse, which\nbeing jostled, tumbled upon the merchant\u2019s back. The merchant,\nthinking it was a robber that came to attack him, knocked him down\nwith a swinging box on the ear, and after redoubling his blows,\ncried out \u201cthieves.\u201d\n\nThe outcry alarmed the watch, who came up immediately; and finding a\nChristian beating a Mussulman, (for hump-back was of our religion,)\nWhat reason have you, said he, to abuse a Mussulman after this rate?\nHe would have robbed me, replied the merchant, and jumped upon my\nback with intent to take me by the throat. If he did, said the\nwatch, you have revenged yourself sufficiently; come, get off him.\nAt the same time he stretched out his hand to help little hump-back\nup; but observing he was dead, Oh! said he, is it thus that a\nChristian dares to assassinate a Mussulman? So saying, he laid hold\nof the Christian, and carried him to the house of the lieutenant of\nthe police, where he was kept till the judge was stirring, and ready\nto examine him. In the mean time, the Christian merchant grew sober,\nand the more he reflected upon his adventure, the less could he\nconceive how such single blows of his fist could kill the man.\n\nThe judge having heard the report of the watch, and viewed the\ncorpse, which they had taken care to bring to his house,\ninterrogated the Christian merchant upon it, and he could not deny\nthe crime, though he had not committed it. But the Judge,\nconsidering that little hump-back belonged to the sultan, for he was\none of his buffoons, would not put the Christian to death, till he\nknew the sultan\u2019s pleasure. For this end he went to the palace,\nand acquainted the sultan with what had happened, and received from\nthe sultan this answer: I have no mercy to show to a Christian that\nkills a Mussulman; go, do your office. Upon this the judge ordered a\ngibbet to be erected, and sent criers all over the city to proclaim,\nthat they were about to hang a Christian for killing a Mussulman.\n\nAt length the merchant was brought out of jail to the foot of the\ngallows; and the hangman having put the rope about his neck, was\ngoing to give him a swing, when the sultan\u2019s purveyor pushing\nthrough the crowd, made up to the gibbet, calling to the hangman to\nstop, for that the Christian had not committed the murder, but\nhimself had done it. Upon that the officer who attended the\nexecution began to question the purveyor, who told him every\ncircumstance of his killing the little hump-back, and how he\nconveyed his corpse to the place where the Christian merchant found\nhim. You were about, added he, to put to death an innocent person;\nfor how can he be guilty of the death of a man who was dead before\nhe came at him? It is enough for me to have killed a Mussulman,\nwithout loading my conscience with the death of a Christian, who is\nnot guilty.\n\nThe sultan of Casgar\u2019s purveyor having publicly charged himself\nwith the death of the little hunch-backed man, the officer could not\navoid doing justice to the merchant. Let the Christian go, said he\nto the executioner, and hang this man in his room, since it appears\nby his own confession that he is guilty. Thereupon, the hangman\nreleased the merchant, and clapped the rope around the purveyor\u2019s\nneck; but just when he was going to pull him up, he heard the voice\nof the Jewish doctor, earnestly entreating him to suspend the\nexecution, and make room for him to come to the foot of the gallows.\n\nWhen he appeared before the judge, My lord, said he, this Mussulman\nyou are going to hang is not guilty; all the guilt lies at my door.\nLast night, a man and a woman, unknown to me, came to my door with a\nsick man they had brought along; my maid went and opened it without\na light, and received from them a piece of money, with a commission\nto come and desire me, in their name, to step down, and look at the\nsick person. While she was delivering her message to me, they\nconveyed the sick person to the stair-head, and disappeared. I went\ndown without staying till my servant had lighted a candle, and in\nthe dark happened to stumble upon the sick person, and kick him down\nstairs. At length, I saw he was dead, and that it was the crooked\nMussulman, whose death you are now about to avenge. So my wife and I\ntook the corpse, and after conveying it up to the roof of our house,\nshoved it to the roof of the purveyor, our next neighbour, whom you\nwere going to put to death unjustly, and let it down the chimney\ninto his chamber. The purveyor, finding it in his house, took the\nlittle man for a thief; and after beating him, concluded he had\nkilled him; but that it was not so, you will be convinced by this my\ndeposition; so that I am the only author of the murder; --and though\nit was committed undesignedly, I have resolved to expiate my crime,\nthat I may not have to charge myself with the death of two\nMussulmen, and hinder you from executing the sultan\u2019s purveyor,\nwhose innocence I have now revealed. So pray dismiss him, and put me\nin his place, for I alone am the cause of the death of the little\nman.\n\nThe chief justice being persuaded that the Jewish doctor was the\nmurderer, gave orders to the executioner to seize him, and release\nthe purveyor. Accordingly the doctor was just going to be hung up,\nwhen the tailor appeared, crying to the executioner to hold his\nhand, and make room for him, that he might come and make his\nconfession to the chief judge. Room being made, My lord, said he,\nyou have narrowly escaped taking away the lives of three innocent\npersons; but if you will have the patience to hear me, I will\ndiscover to you the real murderer of the crook-backed man. If his\ndeath is to be expiated by another, that must be mine. Yesterday,\ntowards the evening, as I was at work in my shop, and was disposed\nto be merry, the little hunch-back came to my door half-drunk, and\nsat down before it. He sung a little, and so I invited him to pass\nthe evening at my house. He accepted of the invitation, and went in\nwith me. We sat down to supper, and I gave him a plate of fish; but\nin eating, a bone stuck in his throat; and though my wife and I did\nour utmost to relieve him, he died in a few minutes. His death\nafflicted us extremely; and for fear of being charged with it, we\ncarried the corpse to the Jewish doctor\u2019s house, and knocked at\nthe door. The maid coming down and opening the door, I desired her\nto go up again forthwith, and ask her master to come down and give\nhis advice to a sick person that we had brought along with us; and\nwithal, to encourage him, I charged her to give him a piece of\nmoney, which I had put into her hand. When she was gone up again, I\ncarried the hunch-back up stairs, and laid him upon the uppermost\nstep, and then my wife and I made the best of our way home. The\ndoctor coming down, made the corpse fall down stairs, and thereupon\nhe took himself to be the author of his death. This being the case,\ncontinued he, release the doctor, and let me die in his room.\n\nThe chief justice and all the spectators could not sufficiently\nadmire the strange events that ensued upon the death of the little\ncrooked man. Let the Jewish doctor go, said the judge, and hang up\nthe tailor, since he confesses the crime. It is certain, this\nhistory is very uncommon, and deserves to be recorded in letters of\ngold. The executioner having dismissed the doctor, made every thing\nready to tie up the tailor.\n\nWhile the executioner was making ready to hang up the tailor, the\nsultan of Casgar, wanting the company of his crooked jester, asked\nwhere he was; and one of his officers told him, The Hunchback, sir,\nwhom you inquire after, got drunk last night, and contrary to his\ncustom, slipped out of the palace, and went strolling about the\ncity, and this morning was found dead. A man was brought before the\nchief justice and charged with the murder of him; but when he was\ngoing to be hanged, up came a man, and after him another, who took\nthe charge upon themselves, and cleared one another. This lasted\nsome time, and the judge is now examining a third man, who gives\nhimself out for the real author of the murder.\n\nUpon this intelligence, the sultan of Casgar sent an officer to the\nplace of execution. Go, said he, in all haste, and tell the judge to\nbring the accused persons before me immediately; and, withal, bring\nthe corpse of poor Humpback, that I may see him once more.\nAccordingly, the officer went, and happened to arrive at the place\nof execution at the very time that the executioner was going to tie\nup the tailor. --He cried aloud to the executioner to suspend the\nexecution. The hangman knowing the officer, did not dare to proceed,\nbut untied the tailor; and then the officer acquainted the judge\nwith the sultan\u2019s pleasure. The judge obeyed, and went straight to\nthe palace, accompanied by the tailor, the Jewish doctor, and the\nChristian merchant; and made four of his men carry the hunch-backed\ncorpse along with him.\n\nWhen they appeared before the sultan, the judge threw himself at the\nprince\u2019s feet, and after recovering himself, gave him a faithful\nrelation of what he knew of the story of the hump-backed man. The\nstory appeared so extraordinary to the sultan, that he ordered his\nown historian to write it down with all its circumstances; then\naddressing himself to the audience: Did you ever hear, said he, such\na surprising event as this, that has happened upon the account of my\nlittle crooked buffoon? Then the Christian merchant, after falling\ndown, and touching the earth with his forehead, spoke as follows:\nMost puissant monarch, said he, I know a story yet more astonishing\nthan that you have now spoken of; if your majesty will give me\nleave, I will tell it you. The circumstances are such, that nobody\ncan hear them without emotion. --Well, said the sultan, I give you\nleave; and so the merchant went on as follows:\n\n\n\n\nThe Story told by the Christian Merchant.\n\n\nSir, before I commence the recital of the story you have permitted\nme to relate, I beg leave to acquaint you that I have not the honour\nto be born in any part of your majesty\u2019s empire. I am a stranger,\nborn at Cairo, in Egypt, a Copt by nation, and by religion a\nChristian. My father was a broker, and got a good estate, which he\nleft me at his death. I followed his example, and took up the same\nemployment; and one day at Cairo, as I was standing in the public\ninn for the corn merchants, there came up to me a young handsome\nman, well dressed, and mounted upon an ass. He saluted me, and\npulling out a handkerchief, in which he had a sample of sesame, or\nTurkey corn, asked me what a bushel of such sesame would fetch? I\nexamined the corn that the young man showed me, and told him, it was\nworth a hundred drachms of silver per bushel. Pray, said he, look\nout for some merchant to take it at that price, and come to me at\nthe Victory gate, where you will see a khan at a distance from the\nhouses. So saying, he left me the sample, and I showed it to several\nmerchants, who told me, that they would take as much as I could\nspare at a hundred and ten drachms per bushel, so that I made an\naccount to get ten drachms per bushel for my share. Full of the\nexpectation of this profit, I went to the Victory gate, where I\nfound the young merchant expecting me, and he carried me into his\ngranary, which was full of sesame. He had a hundred and fifty\nbushels of it, which I measured out, and having carried them off\nupon asses, sold them for five thousand drachms of silver. Out of\nthis sum, said the young man, there is five hundred drachm; coming\nto you, at the rate of ten drachms per bushel. This I give to you,\nand as for the rest which is to come to me, do you take it out of\nthe merchant\u2019s hand, and keep it till I call or send for it, for I\nhave no occasion for it at present. I made answer, it should be\nready for him whenever he pleased to call for it; and so, kissing\nhis hand, took leave of him with a grateful sense of his generosity.\n\nA month passed before he came near me; then he asked for his four\nthousand five hundred drachms of silver. I told him they were ready,\nand should be told down to him immediately. He was then mounted on\nhis ass, and I desired him to alight, and do me the honour to eat a\nmouthful with me before he received his money. No, said he, I cannot\nalight at present; I have urgent business that obliges me to be at a\nplace just by here; but I will return this way, and then take the\nmoney, which I desire you would have in readiness. This said, he\ndisappeared, and I still expected his return, but it was a full\nmonth before he came again. I thought to myself, the young man has\ngreat confidence in me, leaving so great a sum in my hands without\nknowing me; any other man would have been afraid I should have run\naway with it. To be short, he came again at the end of the third\nmonth, and was still mounted on his ass, but finer dressed than\nbefore.\n\nAs soon as I saw the young man, I entreated him to alight, and asked\nhim if he would not take his money? There is no hurry, said he, with\na pleasant easy air, I know it is in good hands; I will come and\ntake it when my other money is all gone: Adieu, continued he, I will\ncome again towards the latter end of the week. With that, he struck\nthe ass, and was soon out of sight. Well, thought I to myself, he\nsays he will see me towards the latter end of the week, but it is\nlikely I may not see him in a great while; I will go and make the\nmost of his money, and shall get a good profit by it.\n\nAnd as it happened, I was not out in my conjecture; for it was a\nfull year before I saw my young merchant again. Then he appeared\nindeed, with richer apparel than before, but seemed to have\nsomething on his mind. I asked him to do me the honour to walk into\nmy house. For this time, replied he, I will go in; but upon this\ncondition, that you shall put yourself to no extraordinary charge\nupon my account. I will do just as you please, said I; only do me\nthe favour to alight and walk in. Accordingly, he complied, and I\ngave orders for an entertainment; and while that was getting ready,\nwe fell into discourse together. When the entertainment was got\nready, we sat down to table. I observed he took the first mouthful\nwith his left hand, and not with the right. I could not tell what to\nthink of it. Said I to myself, ever since I knew this young man, he\nalways appeared very polite; is it possible he can do this out of\ncontempt of me? What can be the matter, that he does not make use of\nhis right hand?\n\nI was very anxious to know, why my guest ate with the left hand.\nAfter we had done eating, and every thing was taken away, we sat\ndown upon a sofa, and I presented him with a lozenge by way of\ndainty, and still he took it with his left hand. Then I said to him,\nPardon, sir, the liberty I take, in asking you what reason you have\nfor not making use of your right hand? Perhaps you have some\ncomplaint in that hand. Instead of answering, he fetched a deep\nsigh, and pulling out his right arm, which he had hitherto kept\nunder his garment, showed me, to my great astonishment, that his\nhand had been cut off. Doubtless, you were alarmed, said he, to see\nme feed myself with the left hand; but I leave you to judge whether\nit was in my power to do otherwise. May one ask you, said I, by what\nmischance it was that you lost your right hand? Upon that, he burst\ninto tears, and after wiping his eyes, gave me the following\nrelation.\n\nYou must know, said he, that I am a native of Bagdad, the son of a\nrich father, the most eminent in that city for quality and for\nriches. I had scarce launched into the world, when falling into the\ncompany of travellers, and hearing their wonderful accounts of\nEgypt, especially Grand Cairo, I was moved by their discourse, and\nfelt a longing desire to travel. But my father was then alive, and\nhad not given me leave. At length, he died; and being now my own\nmaster, I resolved to take a journey to Cairo. I laid out a large\nsum of money upon several sorts of fine stuffs of Bagdad and\nMoussoul, and so undertook my journey.\n\nArriving at Cairo, I went to the khan, called the khan of Mesrour,\nand there took lodgings, with a warehouse for my bales, which I\nbrought along with me upon camels. This done, I retired to my\nchamber, to rest myself after the fatigue of my journey, and gave\nsome money to my servants, with orders to go and buy some\nprovisions, and dress them. After I had eaten, I went and saw the\ncastle, some mosques, the public squares, and the other places that\nwere curious.\n\nNext day, I dressed myself, and ordered some of the finest and\nrichest of my bales to be picked out and carried by my slaves to the\nCircassian bezestein, [69] whither I went myself. I no sooner got\nthere, than I was surrounded with brokers and criers, who had heard\nof my arrival. I gave patterns of my stuffs to several of the\ncriers, who went and cried them, and showed them all over the\nbezestein; but none of the merchants offered near so much as they\nhad cost me in prime cost and carriage. This vexed me, and the\ncriers observing I was dissatisfied, If you will take our advice,\nsaid they, we will put you in a way to sell your stuffs without loss.\n\nThe brokers and the criers having thus promised to put me in a way\nof losing nothing by my goods, I asked them, what course they would\nhave me take. Divide your goods, said they, among several merchants,\nand they will sell them by retail; and twice a week, that is, on\nMondays and Thursdays, you may receive what money they take. By this\nmeans, you will get instead of losing, and the merchants will gain\nby you; and in the mean while, you will have time to take your\npleasure, and walk about the town, or go upon the Nile.\n\nI took their advice, and carried them to my warehouse; from whence I\nbrought all my goods to the bezestein, and there divided them among\nthe merchants whom they represented as most reputable and able to\npay; and the merchants gave me a formal receipt before witnesses,\nstipulating withal, that I should not make any demands upon them for\nthe first month.\n\nHaving thus regulated my affairs, my mind was taken up with other\nthings than the ordinary pleasures. I contracted friendship with\ndivers persons almost of the same age with myself, who took care to\nmake the time pass pleasantly. After the first month was expired. I\nbegan to visit my merchants twice a week, taking along with me a\npublic officer to inspect their books of sale, and a banker to see\nthey paid me in good money, and to regulate the value of the several\nspecies; and so every pay day I had a good sum of money to carry\nhome to my lodging at the khan of Mesrour. I went, nevertheless, on\nthe other days, to pass the morning sometimes at one merchant\u2019s\nhouse, and sometimes at another. In short, I diverted myself in\nconversing with them, and seeing what passed in the bezestein.\n\nOne Monday, as I sat in a merchant\u2019s shop, whose name was\nBedreddin, a lady of quality, as one might easily perceive by her\nair, her habit, and by a well-dressed slave, came into the shop, and\nsat down by me. Her external appearance, joined to a natural grace\nthat shone in all her actions, prejudiced me in her favour, and\ninspired me with a longing desire to be better acquainted with her.\nI know not whether she observed that I took pleasure in gazing upon\nher, and whether this attention on my part was not agreeable to her;\nbut she let down the crape that hung over the muslin which covered\nher face, and so gave me the opportunity of seeing her large black\neyes, which perfectly charmed me. In fine, she inflamed my love to\nits height by the agreeable sound of her voice, and her genteel,\ngraceful carriage in saluting the merchant, and asking him how he\ndid since she saw him last.\n\nAfter conversing with him some time upon indifferent subjects, she\ngave him to understand that she wanted a sort of stuff with a gold\nground; that she came to his shop, as affording the best choice of\nany in all the bezestein; and that if he had any such as she asked\nfor, he would oblige her in showing them. Bedreddin showed her\nseveral pieces, one of which she pitched upon, and he asked for it\neleven hundred drachms of silver. I agree, said she, to give you so\nmuch, but I have not money enough about me; so I hope you will give\nme credit till to-morrow, and in the mean time allow me to carry off\nthe stuff. I shall not fail, added she, to send to you to-morrow the\neleven hundred drachms I agreed for. Madam, said Bedreddin, I would\ngive you credit with all my heart, and allow you to carry off the\nstuff if it were mine; but it belongs to the young man you see here,\nand this is the day on which we settle our accounts. Why, said the\nlady in surprise, why do you offer to use me so! Am I not a customer\nto your shop? And as often as I have bought of you, and carried home\nthe things without paying ready money for them, did I ever fail to\nsend you your money next morning? Madam, said the merchant, it is\ntrue; but this very day I have occasion for the money. There, said\nshe, throwing the stuff to him, take your stuff; I care not for you\nnor all the merchants. You are all alike; you respect nobody. This\nsaid, she rose up in a passion, and walked out.\n\nWhen I saw, said the young man, that the lady walked away, I felt a\ngreat concern for her; so I called her back, saying, Madam, do me\nthe favour to return; perhaps I can find a way to content you both.\nShe returned, saying, it was for my sake that she complied. Mr.\nBedreddin, said I to the merchant, what do you say you must have for\nthis stuff that belongs to me? I must have, said he, eleven hundred\ndrachms; I cannot take less. Give it to the lady then, said I, let\nher take it home with her; I allow a hundred drachms profit to\nyourself, and shall now write you a note, empowering you to discount\nthat sum upon the other goods you have of mine. In fine, I wrote,\nsigned, and delivered the note, and then handed the stuff to the\nlady. Madam, said I, you may take the stuff with you, and as for the\nmoney, you may either send it to-morrow or next day; or, if you\nwill, accept the stuff as a present from me. I beg your pardon, sir,\nsaid she, I mean no such thing. You treat me with so much civility,\nthat I ought never to show myself in the world again, if I did not\nshow my gratitude to you. May God reward you by an increase of your\nfortune; may you live many years when I am dead; may the gate of\nheaven be open to you when you remove to the other world, and may\nall the city proclaim your generosity.\n\nThese words inspired me with some assurance. Madam, said I, I desire\nno other reward for the service I have done you, than the happiness\nof seeing your face; that will repay me with interest. I had no\nsooner spoken than she turned towards me, took off the muslin that\ncovered her face, and discovered to my eyes a wonderful beauty. I\nwas so struck, that I could not express my thoughts to her. I could\nhave looked upon her for ever: but fearing any one should observe\nher, she quickly covered her face, and letting down the crape, took\nup the piece of stuff and went away, leaving me in a very different\nstate of mind from what I was in when I came to the shop. I\ncontinued for some time in great disorder and perplexity. Before I\ntook leave of the merchant, I asked him if he knew the lady: Yes,\nsaid he; she is the daughter of an emir, who left her an immense\nfortune at his death.\n\nI went back to the khan of Mesrour, and sat down to supper, bat\ncould not eat, neither could I shut my eyes all the night, which\nseemed the longest night in my life. As soon as it was day I got up,\nin hopes to see once more the object that disturbed my repose; and\nto engage her affection, I dressed myself yet more nicely than I had\ndone the day before.\n\nI had but just got to Bedreddin\u2019s shop, when I saw the lady coming\nin more magnificent apparel than before, and attended by her slave.\nWhen she came in, she did not mind the merchant, but addressing\nherself to me, Sir, said she, you see I am punctual to my word. I am\ncome on purpose to pay the sum you were so kind as to pass your word\nfor yesterday, though you had no knowledge of me. Such uncommon\ngenerosity I shall never forget. --Madam, said I, you had no\noccasion to be so hasty; I was well satisfied as to my money, and am\nsorry you should put yourself to so much trouble about it. --I had\nbeen very unjust, answered she, if I had abused your generosity.\nWith these words she put the money into my hand, and sat down by me.\n\nHaving this opportunity of conversing with her, I made the best use\nof it, and mentioned to her the love I had for her; but she rose and\nleft me very abruptly, as if she had been angry with the declaration\nI had made. I followed her with my eyes as long as she was in sight,\nand as soon as she was out of sight, I took leave of the merchant,\nand walked out of the bezestein, without knowing where I went. I was\nmusing upon this adventure, when I felt somebody pulling me behind,\nand turning about to see who it was, I had the agreeable surprise to\nperceive it was the lady\u2019s slave. My mistress, said the slave, I\nmean the young lady you spoke with but now in the merchant\u2019s shop,\nwants to speak a word with you if you please to give yourself the\ntrouble to follow me. Accordingly I followed her, and found her\nmistress sitting waiting for me in a banker\u2019s shop.\n\nShe made me sit down by her, and spoke to this purpose. Dear sir,\nsaid she, do not be surprised that I left you so abruptly. I thought\nit not proper, before that merchant, to give a favourable answer to\nthe discovery you made of your affection to me. But to speak the\ntruth, I was so far from being offended at it, that I was pleased\nwhen I heard it; and I account myself infinitely happy in having a\nman of your merit for my lover. I do not know what impression the\nfirst sight of me could make upon you; but I assure you, I no sooner\nsaw you than I conceived tender thoughts of you. Since yesterday I\nhave done nothing but think of what you said to me; and my eagerness\nto come and seek you this morning may convince you I have no small\nregard for you. --Madam, said I, transported with love and joy,\nnothing can be more agreeable to me than what I now hear. No passion\ncan be greater than that with which I love you, since the happy\nmoment I cast my eyes upon you; my eyes were then dazzled with so\nmany charms, that my heart yielded without resistance. --Let us not\ntrifle away the time in needless discourse, said she, interrupting\nme; I make no doubt of your sincerity, and you shall quickly be\nconvinced of mine. Will you do me the honour to come to my home? or\nif you will, I will come to yours. --Madam, said I, I am a stranger\nlodged in a khan, which is not a proper place for the reception of a\nlady of your quality and me. It is more proper, madam, for me to\ncome to you at your own home, if you will please to tell me where it\nis. The lady complying with this desire; I live, said she, in\nDevotion-Street; come on Friday, which is the day after to-morrow,\nafter noon-prayers, and ask for the house of Abon Schama, surnamed\nBercour, late master of the emirs; there you will find me. This\nsaid, we parted; and I passed the next day in great impatience.\n\nOn Friday I got up betimes, and put on my best clothes, with fifty\npieces of gold in my purse. I mounted an ass I had bespoke the day\nbefore, and set out, accompanied by the man that let me the ass.\nWhen we came to Devotion-Street, I directed the owner of the ass to\ninquire for the house I wanted; he found it, and conducted me\nthither. I paid him liberally, and sent him back; directing him to\nobserve narrowly where he left me, and not to fail to come back with\nthe ass next morning, to carry me back again to the khan of Mesrour.\n\nI knocked at the door, and presently two little girl-slaves, white\nas snow, and neatly dressed, came and opened it. Be pleased to come\nin, sir, said they; our mistress expects you impatiently; these two\ndays she has talked of nothing but you. I entered the court, and saw\na great pavilion, raised upon seven steps, and surrounded with iron\nrails that parted it from a very pleasant garden. Besides the trees\nwhich only embellished the place, and formed an agreeable shade,\nthere was an infinite number of other trees loaded with all sorts of\nfruit. I was charmed with the warbling of a great number of birds,\nthat joined their notes to the murmurings of a very high water-work,\nin the middle of a parterre enamelled with flowers. This water-work\nwas a very agreeable sight; four large gilded dragons at the angles\nof the basin, which was of a square form, spouted out water clearer\nthan rock-crystal. This delicious place gave me a charming idea of\nthe conquest I had made. The two little slaves conducted me into a\nsaloon magnificently furnished; and while one of them went to\nacquaint her mistress with my arrival, the other tarried with me,\nand pointed out to me the beauties of the hall.\n\nI did not tarry long in the hall, ere the lady I loved appeared,\nadorned with pearls and diamonds; but the splendour of her eyes far\noutshone that of her jewels. Her shape, which was now not disguised\nby the habit she wore in the city, appeared the most slender and\nadvantageous. I need not mention with what joy we met once more;\nthat far exceeds all expression. I shall only tell you, that when\nthe first compliments were over, we sat both down upon a sofa, and\nthere conversed together with the highest satisfaction. After that,\nwe had the most delicious messes served up to us; and after eating,\ncontinued our conversation till night. At night we had excellent\nwine brought up, and such fruit as is apt to promote drinking; and\ntimed our cups to the sound of musical instruments, joined to the\nvoices of the slaves. The lady of the house sung herself, and by her\nsongs raised my passion to the height. In short, I passed the night\nin the full enjoyment of all manner of pleasure.\n\nNext morning I slipt under the bolster of the bed the purse with the\nfifty pieces of gold I had brought with me, and took leave of the\nlady, who asked me when I would see her again. Madam, said I, I give\nyou my promise to return this night. She seemed to be transported\nwith my answer, and conducting me to the door, conjured me at\nparting to be mindful of my promise.\n\nThe same man that had carried me thither, waited for me with his\nass, which I mounted, and went directly to the khan, ordering the\nman to come to me again in the afternoon at a certain hour; to\nsecure which, I would not pay him till that time came.\n\nAs soon as I arrived at my lodging, my first care was to order my\npeople to buy a good lamb, and several sorts of cakes, which I sent\nby a porter as a present to the lady. When that was done, I attended\nto my serious business till the owner of the ass came. Then I went\nalong with him to the lady\u2019s house, and was received by her with\nas much joy as before, and entertained with equal magnificence.\n\nNext morning I took leave, and left her another purse with fifty\npieces of gold, and returned to my khan.\n\nI continued to visit the lady every day, and to leave her every time\na purse with fifty pieces of gold, till the merchants whom I\nemployed to sell my goods, and whom I visited regularly twice a\nweek, owed me nothing: and, in short, I came at last to be\nmoneyless, and hopeless of having any more.\n\nIn this desperate condition, I walked out of my lodging, not knowing\nwhat course to take, and by chance went towards the castle, where\nthere was a great crowd of people to see a show given by the sultan\nof Egypt. As soon as I came up to them, I wedged in among the crowd,\nand by chance happened to stand by a horseman well mounted, and\nhandsomely clothed, who had upon the pommel of his saddle a bag,\nhalf open, with a string of green silk hanging out of it. I clapped\nmy hand to the bag, concluding the silk twist might be the string of\na purse within the bag: in the mean time, a porter with a load of\nwood upon his back, passed by the other side of the horse, so near\nthat the gentleman on horseback was forced to turn his head towards\nhim, to avoid being hurt, or having his clothes torn by the wood. In\nthat moment did the devil tempt me; I took the string in one hand,\nand with the other laid open the mouth of the bag, and pulled out\nthe purse so dexterously, that nobody perceived it. The purse was\nheavy, and I did not doubt but there was gold or silver in it.\n\nAs soon as the porter had passed, the horseman, who probably had\nsome suspicion of what I had done while his head was turned,\npresently put his hand to his bag, and finding his purse was gone,\ngave me such a blow that he knocked me down. This violence shocked\nall who saw it; some took hold of the horse\u2019s bridle, to stop the\ngentleman, and asked him, what reason he had to strike me, or how he\ncame to treat a Mussulman after that rate. Do not you trouble\nyourselves, said he briskly; I had reason for what I did: this\nfellow is a thief. At these words, I started up, and from my\nappearance, every one took my part, and cried out he was a liar, for\nthat it was incredible a young man such as I, should be guilty of so\nbase an action; but while they were holding his horse by the bridle\nto favour my escape, unfortunately passed by the judge, who seeing\nsuch a crowd about the gentleman on horseback and me, came up and\nasked what the matter was. Every body present reflected on the\ngentleman for treating me so unjustly upon the pretence of robbery.\n\nThe judge did not give ear to all that was said; but asked the\ncavalier if he suspected any body else beside me? The cavalier told\nhim he did not, and gave his reasons why he believed his suspicions\nnot to be groundless. Upon this, the judge ordered his followers to\nseize me, and search me, which they presently did; and finding the\npurse upon me, exposed it to the view of all the people. The\ndisgrace was so great, I could not bear it, but swooned away. In the\nmean time the judge called for the purse.\n\nWhen he had got it in his hand, he asked the horseman if it was his,\nand how much money was in it. The cavalier knew it to be his own,\nand assured the judge he had put twenty sequins into it. Upon which,\nthe judge called me before him: Come, young man, said he, confess\nthe truth; was it you that took the gentleman\u2019s purse from him? Do\nnot wait for the torture to extort confession. Then, with downcast\neyes, thinking within myself, that if I denied the fact, they\nfinding the purse about me, would convict me of a lie; to avoid a\ndouble punishment, I looked up and confessed it was I. I had no\nsooner made the confession than the judge called people to witness\nit, and ordered my hand to be cut off. This sentence was put in\nexecution immediately upon the spot, to the great regret of all the\nspectators; nay, I observed by the cavalier\u2019s countenance, that he\nwas moved with pity as much as the rest. The judge would likewise\nhave ordered my foot to be cut off, but I begged the cavalier to\nintercede for my pardon, which he did, and obtained it.\n\nWhen the judge was gone, the cavalier came up to me, and holding out\nthe purse, I see plainly, said he, that necessity put you upon an\naction so disgraceful and unworthy of such a handsome young man as\nyou are. Here, take that fatal purse; I freely give it you, and am\nheartily sorry for the misfortune you have undergone. This said, he\nwent away; and I being very weak by loss of blood, some of the good\npeople of the neighbourhood had the charity to carry me into a\nhouse, and gave me a glass of wine; they likewise dressed my arm,\nand wrapped up the dismembered hand in a cloth, which I carried away\nwith me fastened to my girdle.\n\nIf I had returned to the khan of Mesrour in this melancholy\ncondition, I should not have found there such relief as I wanted;\nand to offer to go to the young lady was running a great hazard, it\nbeing likely she would not look upon me after she heard of my\ndisgrace. I resolved, however, to put it to the trial; and to tire\nout the crowd that followed me, I turned down several by-streets,\nand at last, arrived at the lady\u2019s house very weak, and so much\nfatigued, that I presently threw myself down upon a sofa, keeping my\nright arm under my garment, for I took great care to conceal my\nmisfortune.\n\nIn the mean time, the lady, hearing of my arrival, and that I was\nnot well, came to me in all haste, and seeing me pale and dejected,\nMy dear soul, said she, what is the matter with you? --Madam, said\nI, dissembling, I have got a violent pain in my head. The lady\nseemed to be much concerned, and asked me to sit down, for I had got\nup to receive her. Tell me, said she, how your illness came: the\nlast time I had the pleasure to see you, you were very well. There\nmust be something else that you conceal from me; let me know what it\nis. I stood silent, and instead of an answer, tears trickled down my\ncheeks. I cannot conceive, said she, what it is that afflicts you.\nHave I unthinkingly given you any occasion of uneasiness? Or do you\ncome on purpose to tell me you no longer love me? --It is not that,\nmadam, said I, fetching a deep sigh; your unjust suspicion is an\naddition to my misfortune.\n\nI could not think of discovering to her the true cause. When night\ncame, supper was brought, and she pressed me to eat; but considering\nI could only feed myself with my left hand, I begged to be excused,\nupon the plea of having no appetite. Your appetite will return, said\nshe, if you would but discover what you so obstinately hide from me.\nYour inappetency, without doubt, is only owing to your irresolution.\n--Alas! madam, said I, I find I must resolve at last. I had no\nsooner spoke these words, than she filled me a cup full of wine, and\noffering it to me, Drink that, said she, it will give you courage. I\nreached out my left hand, and took the cup.\n\nWhen I had got the cup in my hand, I redoubled my tears and sighs.\nWhy do you sigh and weep so bitterly? said the lady: and why do you\ntake the cup with your left hand, rather than your right? --Ah!\nmadam, said I, excuse me, I beseech you; I have a swelling in my\nright hand. --Let me see that swelling, said she: I will open it. I\ndesired to be excused, alleging it was not ripe enough for opening!\nand drank off the cup, which was very large. The fumes of the wine,\njoined to my weakness and weariness, set me asleep, and I slept very\nsoundly till next morning.\n\nIn the mean time, the lady curious to know what ailed my right hand,\nlifted up my garment that covered it, and saw to her great\nastonishment that it was cut off, and that I had brought it along\nwith me wrapt up in a cloth. She presently apprehended what was my\nreason for declining a discovery, notwithstanding all her pressing\nsolicitation, and passed the night in the greatest uneasiness upon\nmy disgrace, which she concluded had been occasioned only by the\nlove I bore to her.\n\nWhen I awaked, I discerned by her countenance, that she was\nextremely grieved. However, that she might not increase my\nuneasiness, she said not a word. She called for jelly broth of fowl,\nwhich she had ordered to be prepared, and made me eat and drink to\nrecruit my strength. After that, I offered to take leave of her, but\nshe declared I should not go out of her doors. Though you tell me\nnothing of the matter, said she, I am persuaded I am the cause of\nthe misfortune that has befallen you. The grief that I feel upon\nthat score will quickly make an end of me; but before I die, I must\nexecute a design for your benefit. She had no sooner said the word\nthan she called for a judge and witnesses, and ordered a writing to\nbe drawn up, putting me in possession of her whole property. After\nthis was done, and every body dismissed, she opened a large trunk,\nwhere lay all the purses I had given her from the commencement of\nour amour. There they are all entire, said she; I have not touched\none of them: here is the key: take it, for all is yours. After I had\nreturned her thanks for her generosity and goodness: What I have\ndone for you, said she, is nothing; I shall not be satisfied unless\nI die, to show how much I love you. I conjured her by all the powers\nof love, to give up such a fatal resolution. But all my\nremonstrances were ineffectual; she was so afflicted to see me have\nbut one hand, that she sickened, and died after five or six weeks\u2019\nillness.\n\nAfter mourning for her death as long as was decent, I took\npossession of all her estate, a particular account of which she gave\nme before she died, and the corn you sold for me was part of it.\n\nWhat I have now told you will plead my excuse for eating with my\nleft hand. I am highly obliged to you for the trouble you have given\nyourself on my account. I can never sufficiently recompense your\nfidelity. Since, thanks to God, I have still a competent estate,\nnotwithstanding I have spent a great deal, I beg you to accept of\nthe sum now in your hand, as a present from me. --Over and above\nthis, I have a proposal to make to you; since by reason of this\nfatal accident I am obliged to depart from Cairo, I am resolved\nnever to see it more. If you choose to accompany me, we will trade\ntogether as equal partners, and divide the profit.\n\nI thanked the young man, said the Christian merchant, for the\npresent he had made me; and as to the proposal of travelling with\nhim, I willingly embraced it, assuring him, that his interest should\nalways be as dear to me as my own.\n\nWe fixed a day for our departure, and accordingly entered upon our\ntravels. We passed through Syria and Mesopotamia, travelled all over\nPersia, and after stopping at several cities, came at last, sir, to\nyour capital. Some time after our arrival in this place, the young\nman having formed a design of returning to Persia, and settling\nthere, we balanced our accounts and parted very good friends. He\nwent from hence, and I, sir, continue here in your majesty\u2019s\nservice. This is the story I had to tell you: does not your majesty\nfind it more surprising than that of the crooked buffoon?\n\nThe sultan of Casgar fell into a passion against the Christian\nmerchant. You are very bold, said he, to tell me a story so little\nworth my hearing, and then to compare it to that of my jester. Can\nyou flatter yourself so far as to believe that the trifling\nadventures of a young debauchee can make such an impression upon me\nas those of my jester? I will hang you all four, to revenge his\ndeath.\n\nHearing this, the purveyor fell down frighted at the sultan\u2019s\nfeet. Sir, said he, I humbly beseech your majesty to suspend your\njust wrath, and hear my story; and if it appears to your majesty to\nbe prettier than that of your jester, to pardon us all four. The\nsultan having granted this request, the purveyor began thus:\n\n\n\n\nThe Story told by the Sultan of Casgar\u2019s Purveyor.\n\n\nSir, --A person of quality invited me yesterday to his daughter\u2019s\nwedding: I went to his house in the evening, at the hour appointed,\nand found there a large company of doctors, ministers of justice,\nand others of the best quality in the city. After the ceremony was\nover, we had a splendid feast; and among other things set upon the\ntable, there was a course with garlic sauce, which indeed was very\ndelicious, and coveted by every body; we observed, however, that one\nof the guests did not offer to touch it, though it stood just before\nhim, and we invited him to do as we did. But he conjured us not to\npress him upon that head. I will take care, said he, not to touch\nany dish that has garlic in it; I remember too well what the tasting\nof such an one cost me once before. We entreated him to tell us what\nwas the occasion of his strong aversion to garlic; but before he had\ntime to make answer, Is it thus, said the master of the house, that\nyou honour my table? This ragout is excellent, do not you pretend to\nbe excused from eating of it; you must do me that favour as well as\nthe rest. --Sir, said the gentleman, who was a Bagdad merchant, I\nhope you do not think I refuse to eat it out of a mistaken nicety;\nif you will have me eat of it, I will do it; but still upon this\ncondition, that after eating of it, I may wash my hands, with your\ngood leave, forty times with alcali, [70] forty times more with the\nashes of the same plant, and forty times again with soap. I hope you\nwill not take it ill that I stipulate this condition, in pursuance\nof an oath I have made never to taste garlic without observing it.\n\nThe master of the house would not dispense with the merchant from\neating of the ragout with garlic, and therefore ordered his servant\nto get ready a basin with water, together with alcali, the ashes of\nthe same plant, and soap, that the merchant might wash as often as\nhe pleased. When every thing was got ready, Now, said he to the\nmerchant, I hope you will do as we do.\n\nThe merchant, displeased with the violence that was offered him,\nreached out his hand, and took up a bit, which he put to his mouth\ntrembling, and eat with a reluctance that surprised us all. But what\nsurprised us most of all was, that he had only four fingers and no\nthumb, which none of us observed before, though he had eat of other\ndishes. You have lost your thumb, said the master of the house; by\nwhat accident? It must have been occasioned by some extraordinary\naccident, a relation of which will be agreeable to the company.\n--Sir, replied the merchant, I have no thumb on the right nor on the\nleft hand. In speaking this, he put out his left hand, and showed\nthat what he said was true. But this is not all, continued he: if\nyou will believe me, I have no great toe on either of my feet: I was\nmaimed in this manner by an unheard of adventure, which I am willing\nto relate to you, if you will have the patience to hear me. The\nrelation will equally raise your astonishment and pity. Only suffer\nme to wash my hands first. With this he rose from the table, and\nafter washing his hands a hundred and twenty times, took his place\nagain, and recounted his story as follows:\n\nYou must know, gentlemen, that in the reign of the caliph Haroun\nAlraschid, my father lived in Bagdad, the place of my nativity, and\nwas reputed one of the richest merchants in the city. But being a\nman addicted to his pleasures, and neglecting his private affairs,\ninstead of leaving me a plentiful fortune at his death, he left me\nin such a situation, that all my economy was scarcely sufficient to\nclear off his debts. However, with difficulty, I paid them all, and\nthrough my industry and care, my little fortune began to wear a\nsmiling aspect.\n\nOne morning, as I opened my shop, a lady, mounted upon a mule, and\nattended by an eunuch and two slaves, stopped near my shop door, and\nwith the assistance of the eunuch\u2019s hand, alighted. Madam, said\nthe eunuch, I told you you would be too soon; you see there is\nnobody yet in the bezestein; if you had taken my advice, you might\nhave saved yourself the trouble of waiting here. The lady looked all\nround her, and finding there was no shop open but mine, addressed\nherself to me, asking leave to sit in my shop till the rest of the\nmerchants came. I could do no less than return a civil answer, and\ninvite the lady into my shop.\n\nThe lady sat down in my shop, and observing there was nobody in the\nwhole bezestein but the eunuch and myself uncovered her face to take\nthe air; and I must say I never saw so beautiful a person. I no\nsooner had a sight of her face, than I conceived a passion for her.\nI fixed my eyes upon her, and perceived that she was not displeased\nwith my ogling, for she gave me a full opportunity to look on her,\nand did not cover her face but when she was afraid of being taken\nnotice of.\n\nAfter she had pulled down her veil again, she told me she wanted\nseveral sorts of the richest and finest stuffs, and asked me if I\nhad them. Alas! madam, said I, I am but a young man, and just\nbeginning the world, I have not stock enough for such great\nconcerns, and it is a mortification to me that I have nothing to\nshow you that will suit you: but to save you the trouble of going\nfrom shop to shop, as soon as the merchants come, I will go, if you\nplease, and fetch from them what you want, with the lowest prices,\nand so you may do your business without going any farther. She\ncomplied with my proposal, and entered into discourse with me, which\ncontinued so much the longer, as I made her believe the merchants\nthat could furnish what she wanted were not yet come.\n\nI was no less charmed with her wit than I had been before with the\nbeauty of her face; but there was a necessity of denying myself the\npleasure of her conversation. I ran out to see for the stuffs she\nwanted; and after she had pitched upon what she liked, we agreed for\nfive thousand drachms of coined silver. I wrapped up the stuffs in a\nsmall bundle, and gave it to the eunuch, who put it under his arm.\nThis done, she rose and took leave. I followed her with my eyes till\nshe had reached the bezestein gate, and even after she had mounted\nher mule again.\n\nThe lady had no sooner disappeared, than I perceived that love had\ncaused me to commit a great neglect. It had so engrossed my\nthoughts, that I did not reflect that she went away without paying\nthe money, neither had I the thought to ask who she was or where she\ndwelt. However, I considered I was accountable for a large sum to\nthe merchants, who, perhaps, would not have the patience to stay for\ntheir money; and so I went to them, and made the best excuse I\ncould, pretending that I knew the lady; and then came home again,\nequally affected with love, and with the burden of such a heavy debt.\n\nI had desired my creditors to stay eight days for their money; and\nwhen eight days were passed, they did not fail to dun me. --Then I\nentreated them to give me eight days more, which they agreed to; and\nthe very next day I saw the lady come to the bezestein, mounted on\nher mule, with the same attendants as before, and exactly at the\nsame hour of the day.\n\nShe came straight to my shop. I have made you stay some time, said\nshe, but here is your money at last; carry it to the banker, and see\nit is all good and right. The eunuch, who brought me the money, went\nalong with me to the banker, and we found it very right. I returned,\nand had the happiness of conversing with the lady till all the shops\nof the bezestein were open. Though we talked but of ordinary things,\nshe gave them such a turn, that they appeared new and uncommon; and\nconvinced me that I was not mistaken in admiring her wit at our\nfirst interview.\n\nAs soon as the merchants had arrived and opened their shops, I\ncarried to the respective owners the money due for their stuffs, and\nwas readily entrusted with more, which the lady had desired to see.\nShe chose some from these to the value of one thousand pieces of\ngold, and carried them away as before without paying: nay, without\nspeaking a word, or informing me who she was. What distressed me was\nthe consideration that while at this rate she risked nothing, she\nleft me without any security against being made answerable for the\ngoods in case she did not return. She has paid me, thought I, a\nconsiderable sum; but she leaves me responsible for a greater.\nSurely she cannot be a cheat: it is not possible she can have any\nsuch design as to inveigle me to my ruin. The merchants do not know\nher; they will all come upon me. In short, my love was not so\npowerful as to stifle the uneasiness I felt, when I reflected upon\nall the circumstances in which I was placed. A whole month passed\nbefore I heard any thing of the lady again; and during that time my\nalarm increased. The merchants, were impatient for their money, and\nto satisfy them, I was going to sell off all I had, when one morning\nthe lady returned with the same equipage as before.\n\nTake your weights, said she, and weigh the gold I have brought you.\nThese words dispelled my fear, and inflamed my love. Before we\ncounted the money, she asked me several questions, and particularly\nif I was married. I answered I never had been. Then reaching out the\ngold to the eunuch, let us have your interposition, said she, to\naccommodate our matters. Upon which the eunuch fell a laughing, and\ncalling me aside, made me weigh the gold. While I was thus occupied,\nthe eunuch whispered in my ear --I know by your eyes you love this\nlady, and am surprised you have not the courage to disclose your\npassion. She loves you more ardently than you do her. Do not imagine\nthat she has any real occasion for your stuffs. She only makes this\nher pretence to come here, because you have inspired her with a\nviolent passion. It was for this reason she asked you if you were\nmarried. It will be your own fault, if you do not marry her. It is\ntrue. I replied, I have had a passion for her from the first moment\nthat I cast my eyes upon her; but I durst not aspire to the\nhappiness of thinking my attachment could meet her approbation. I am\nentirely hers, and shall not fail to retain a grateful sense of your\ngood offices in this affair.\n\nI finished weighing the gold, and while I was putting it into the\nbag, the eunuch turned to the lady, and told her I was satisfied;\nthat being the word they had agreed upon between themselves.\nPresently after, the lady rose and took her leave; telling me she\nwould send her eunuch to me, and that I had only to obey the\ndirections he might give me in her name.\n\nI carried each of the merchants their money, and waited some days\nwith impatience for the eunuch. At last he came.\n\nI received him very kindly, and inquired after his mistress\u2019s\nhealth. You are, said he, the happiest lover in the world; she is\nquite sick of love for you, and is impatient to see you; and were\nshe mistress of her own conduct, would not fail to come to you\nherself, and willingly pass in your society all the days of her\nlife. Her noble mien and graceful carriage, I replied, convinced me\nthat she was a lady beyond the common rank. You have not erred in\nyour judgment on that head, said the eunuch: she is the favourite of\nZobeide, the caliph\u2019s wife, who is the more affectionately\nattached to her from having brought her up from her infancy, and\nintrusts her with all her affairs. Having a wish to marry, she has\ndeclared to her mistress that she has fixed her affections upon you,\nand has desired her consent.\n\nZobeide told her, she would not withhold her consent; but that she\nwould see you first, in order to judge if she had made a good\nchoice; in which case she meant herself to defray the expenses of\nthe wedding. Thus you see your felicity is certain; since you have\npleased the favourite, you will be equally agreeable to the\nmistress, who seeks only to oblige her, and would by no means thwart\nher inclination. All you have to do is to come to the palace. I am\nsent hither to invite you as soon as you determine to go.\n\nMy resolution is already formed, said I, and I am ready to follow\nyou whithersoever you please to conduct me.\n\nVery well, said the eunuch; but you know men are not allowed to\nenter the ladies\u2019 apartments in the palace, and you must be\nintroduced with great secrecy. The favourite lady has contrived the\nmatter well. On your side you must act your part discreetly; for if\nyou do not, your life is at stake.\n\nI gave him repeated assurances punctually to perform whatever he\nmight require. Then, said he, in the evening, you must be at the\nmosque built by the caliph\u2019s lady on the bank of the Tigris, and\nwait there till somebody comes to conduct you. To this I agreed; and\nafter passing the day in great impatience, went in the evening to\nthe prayer that is said an hour and a half after sunset in the\nmosque, and remained there after all the people had departed.\n\nSoon after I saw a boat making up to the mosque, the rowers of which\nwere all eunuchs, who came on shore and put several large trunks\ninto the mosque, and then retired; only one of them staid behind,\nwhom I perceived to be the same eunuch that had all along\naccompanied the lady, and had been with me that morning. I saw the\nlady also enter the mosque; and making up to her, told her I was\nready to obey her orders. We have no time to lose, said she; and\nopening one of the trunks, bid me get into it, that being necessary\nboth for your safety and mine. Fear nothing, added she; leave the\nmanagement of all to me. I considered with myself, I had gone too\nfar to recede, and so obeyed her orders; and she immediately locked\nthe trunk. This done, the eunuch her confidant called the other\neunuchs who had brought in the trunks, and ordered them to carry\nthem on board again. The lady and eunuch re-embarked, and the\nboatmen rowed to Zobeide\u2019s apartment.\n\nIn the mean time I reflected very seriously upon the danger to which\nI had exposed myself, and made vows and prayers, though it was then\ntoo late.\n\nThe boat stopped at the palace gate, and the trunks were carried\ninto the apartment of the officer of the eunuchs, who keeps the key\nof the ladies apartments, and suffers nothing to enter without a\nnarrow inspection. The officer was then in bed, and there was a\nnecessity of calling him up.\n\nThe officer of the eunuchs was angry that they should break his\nrest, and chid the favourite lady severely for coming home so late.\nYou shall not come off so easily as you think for, said he: not one\nof these trunks shall pass till I have opened them every one. At the\nsame time he commanded the eunuch to bring them before him, and open\nthem one by one. The first they began with was that wherein I lay,\nwhich put me into inexpressible fear.\n\nThe favourite lady, who had the key of that trunk, protested it\nshould not be opened. You know very well, said she, I bring nothing\nhither but what is for the use of Zobeide, your mistress and mine.\nThis trunk, continued she, is filled with rich goods that I had from\nsome merchants lately arrived, besides a number of bottles of Zemzem\nwater sent from Mecca; [71] and if any of these should happen to\nbreak, the goods will be spoiled, and then you must answer for them;\ndepend on it, Zobeide will resent your insolence. She insisted upon\nthis in so peremptory terms, that the officer did not dare to take\nupon him to open any of the trunks. Let them go, said he angrily;\nyou may carry them off. Upon that the women\u2019s apartment was\nopened, and all the trunks were carried in.\n\nThey were scarcely got in, when all on a sudden I heard the people\ncry, Here is the caliph! here comes the caliph! This put me in such\na fright, that I wonder I did not die upon the spot, for it really\nwas the caliph. What hast thou got in these trunks? said he to the\nfavourite. --Some stuffs, said she, lately arrived, which your\nmajesty\u2019s lady had a mind to see. --Open them, cried he, and let\nme see them. She pretended to excuse herself, alleging the stuffs\nwere only proper for ladies, and that by opening them his lady would\nbe deprived of the pleasure of seeing them first. I say, open them,\ncried the caliph; I have a mind to see them, and I will see them.\nShe still represented that her mistress would be angry with her if\nshe opened them. No, no, said he; I will engage she shall not say a\nword to you for so doing: come, come, open them, and do not keep me\nwaiting here.\n\nThere was a necessity of obeying, which gave me such alarm, that I\ntremble every time I think on it. The caliph sat down; and the\nfavourite ordered all the trunks to be brought before him one after\nanother. Then she opened them; and to lengthen out the time, showed\nall the beauties of each particular stuff, thinking thereby to tire\nout his patience; but her stratagem did not succeed. Being as\nunwilling as myself to have the trunk where I lay opened, she left\nthat to the last. So when all the rest were viewed, Come, said the\ncaliph, make an end; let us see what is in that. I am at a loss to\ntell you whether I was dead or alive that moment; for I little\nthought of escaping so great a danger.\n\nWhen Zobeide\u2019s favourite saw that the caliph would needs have the\ntrunk open where I lay, As for this trunk, said she, your majesty\nwill please to dispense with the opening of it: there are some\nthings in it which I cannot show you without your lady be by. Well,\nwell, said the caliph, since it is so, I am satisfied; order the\ntrunks to be carried away. The word was no sooner spoken than the\ntrunks were moved into her chamber, where I began to revive again.\n\nAs soon as the eunuchs who had brought them were gone, she presently\nopened the trunk where I was prisoner. Come out, said she, go up\nthese stairs that lead to an upper room, and stay there till I come.\nThe door which led to the stairs she locked after I was in; and that\nwas no sooner done, than the caliph came and sat down on the very\ntrunk where I had been confined. The occasion of this visit was a\nmotive of curiosity that did not respect me. He had a mind to\nquestion the lady about what she had seen or heard in the city. So\nthey discoursed together some while, and then he left her and\nretired to his apartment.\n\nWhen she found the coast clear, she came to the chamber where I was,\nand made many apologies for the alarms she had given me. My\nuneasiness, said she, was no less than yours; you cannot well doubt\nof that, since I have run the same risk out of love to you: perhaps,\nanother person in my situation would not have had the presence of\nmind to manage matters so dexterously upon so delicate an occasion,\nwhere so much courage and presence of mind were requisite; nothing\nless than the love I had for you could have inspired me with courage\nto do it. But come, take heart, now the danger is over. After much\ntender discourse between us, she told me it was time to go to rest,\nand that she would not fail to introduce me to Zobeide, her\nmistress, some hour to morrow, which will be very easy; For the\ncaliph never sees her, added she, but at night. Encouraged by these\nwords, I slept very well; or if my sleep was interrupted it was by\nagreeable disquietudes, caused by the hopes of enjoying a lady,\nblest with so much wit and beauty.\n\nThe next day, before I was introduced to Zobeide, her favourite\ninstructed me how to behave, mentioning what questions she would put\nto me, and dictating the answers I was to give. This done, she\ncarried me into a very magnificent and richly furnished hall. I was\nno sooner entered, than twenty women slaves, advanced in age,\ndressed in rich and uniform habits, came out of Zobeide\u2019s\napartment, and placed themselves very modestly before the throne in\ntwo equal rows; they were followed by twenty other younger ladies\nclothed after the same manner, only their habits appeared somewhat\ngayer. In the middle of these appeared Zobeide, with a majestic air,\nand so laden with jewels that she could scarce walk. She went and\nsat down on the throne, and the favourite lady, who had accompanied\nher, stood just by her on her right hand; the other ladies, who were\nslaves, being placed at some distance on each side of the throne.\n\nAs soon as the caliph\u2019s lady was set down, the slaves that came in\nfirst made a sign for me to approach. I advanced between the two\nrows they had formed, and prostrated myself upon the carpet that was\nunder the princess\u2019s feet. She ordered me to rise, and did me the\nhonour to ask my name, my family, and the state of my fortune; upon\nall which I gave her satisfactory answers, as I perceived not only\nby her countenance, but by her words. I am glad, said she, that my\ndaughter, (so she used to call the favourite lady,) for I look upon\nher as such, after the care I have taken of her education, I am very\nglad she has made a choice that pleases me; I approve of it, and\ngive consent to your marriage. I will myself give orders for\nsolemnizing it; but I want to have my daughter stay ten days with me\nbefore the solemnity; and in that time I will speak to the caliph,\nand obtain his consent: meanwhile, do you stay here; you shall be\ntaken care of.\n\nPursuant to the caliph\u2019s lady\u2019s orders, I staid ten days in the\nwomen\u2019s apartments, and during that time was deprived of the\npleasure of seeing the favourite lady; but was so well used by her\norders, that I had no reason to be dissatisfied.\n\nZobeide told the caliph her resolution of marrying the favourite\nlady; and the caliph leaving to her the liberty of doing upon that\nhead what she pleased, granted the favourite a considerable sum by\nway of settlement. When the ten days were expired, Zobeide ordered\nthe contract of marriage to be drawn up and brought to her, and the\nnecessary preparations being mane for the solemnity, the musicians\nand the dancers (both men and women) were called in, and there were\ngreat rejoicings in the palace for nine days. The tenth day being\nappointed for the last ceremony of the marriage, the favourite lady\nwas conducted to a bath, and I to another. At night, I sat down to\ntable, and had all manner of dishes served up to me, and among\nothers, a ragout with garlic, such as you have now forced me to eat\nof. This ragout I liked so well, that I scarce touched any of the\nother dishes; but such was my unhappiness, that when I arose from\nthe table, I only wiped my hands, instead of washing them well; a\npiece of negligence I had never been guilty of before.\n\nThough it was then night, the whole apartment of the ladies was as\nlight as day, by means of many illuminations. Nothing was to be\nheard all over the palace but musical instruments, dances, and\nacclamations of joy. My bride and I were introduced into a great\nhall, where we were placed upon two thrones. The women that attended\nher made her shift herself several times, and painted her face with\ndifferent sorts of colours, according to the usual custom on wedding\ndays; and every time she changed her habit they showed her to me.\n\nAll these ceremonies being over, we were conducted to the nuptial\nroom: as soon as the company retired, I approached to embrace my\nwife; but instead of returning my transports, she pushed me away,\nand cried out most fearfully; upon which, all the ladies of the\napartment came running into the chamber to know what she cried for:\nand for my own part, I was so thunder-struck, that I stood like a\npost, without the power of even asking what she meant by it. Dear\nsister, said they to her, what has happened since we left you so\nlately? Let us know, that we may try to relieve you. --Take, said\nshe, Take out of my sight that vile fellow. Why, madam? said I;\nwherein have I deserved your displeasure? --You are a villain, said\nshe, in a furious passion, to eat garlic, and not wash your hands!\nDo you think I would suffer such a filthy fellow to poison me? Down\nwith him, down with him upon the ground, continued she, addressing\nherself to the ladies, and bring me a good bull\u2019s pizzle. In\nshort, I was thrown upon the ground, and while some held my hands,\nand others my feet, my wife, who was presently furnished with a\nweapon, laid on me as long as she could stand over me. Then she said\nto the ladies, Take him, send him to the judge, and let the hand be\ncut off with which he fed upon the garlic ragout.\n\nGood God, cried I, must I be beat and bruised unmercifully, and to\ncomplete my affliction, have my hand cut off, for eating of a ragout\nwith garlic, and forgetting to wash my hands? What proportion is\nthere between the punishment and the crime? Curse on the ragout, and\non the cook that dressed it, and on him that served it up.\n\nAll the ladies that were by, and had witnessed my receiving the\nthousand strokes, took pity of me when they heard the cutting off of\nmy hand spoken of. Dear madam, dear sister, said they to the\nfavourite lady, you carry your resentment too far. We own he is a\nman quite ignorant of the world, of your quality, and the respect\ndue to you; but we beseech you to overlook and pardon the fault he\nhas committed. I have not received suitable satisfaction, said she;\nI will teach him to know the world; I will make him bear sensible\nmarks of his impertinence, and be cautious hereafter how he tastes a\ngarlic ragout without washing his hands. Afterwards, they continued\ntheir solicitations, and fell down at her feet, and kissing her fair\nhands, Good madam, said they, in the name of God, moderate your\nwrath, and grant the favour we request. She answered not a word, but\ngot up, and after uttering a thousand reproaches against me, walked\nout of the chamber, and all the ladies followed her, leaving me in\ninconceivable affliction.\n\nI continued there ten days, without seeing any body but an old woman\nslave that brought me victuals. I asked her what was become of the\nfavourite lady. She is sick, said the old woman; she is sick of the\npoisoned smell you infected her with. Why did you not take care to\nwash your hands after eating of that cursed ragout? Is it possible,\nthought I to myself, that these ladies can be so nice and so\nvindictive for so small a fault! I loved my wife, notwithstanding\nall her cruelty, and could not help pitying her. One day the old\nwoman told me my spouse was recovered, and gone to bathe, and would\ncome to see me the next day. So, said she, I would have you call up\nyour patience, and endeavour to accommodate yourself to her humour:\nfor she is otherwise a woman of good sense and discretion, and\nbeloved by all the ladies about the court of Zobeide, our\nrespectable mistress.\n\nIn effect, my wife came next night, and accosted me thus: You see I\nam too good in seeing you again after the affront you have offered\nme; but still I cannot be reconciled to you till I have punished you\naccording to your demerit, in not washing your hands after eating\nthe garlic ragout. This said, she called the ladies, who, by her\norder, threw me upon the ground; and after binding me fast, she had\nthe barbarity to cut off my thumbs and great toes herself with a\nrazor. One of the ladies applied a certain root to stanch the blood;\nbut by bleeding and by the pain, I swooned away.\n\nWhen I came to myself, they gave me wine to drink, to recruit my\nstrength. Ah! madam, said I to my wife, if ever I eat of a garlic\nragout again, I solemnly swear to wash my hands a hundred and twenty\ntimes with the herb alkali, with the ashes of the same plant, and\nwith soap. Well, replied my wife, upon that condition I am willing\nto forget what is past, and live with you as my husband.\n\nThis, continued the Bagdad merchant, addressing himself to the\ncompany, this is the reason why I refused to eat of the garlic\nragout that is now upon the table.\n\nThe ladies applied to my wounds not only the root I mentioned to\nyou, but likewise some balsam of Mecca, which they were well assured\nwas not adulterated, because they had it out of the caliph\u2019s own\ndispensatory. By virtue of that admirable balsam was I perfectly\ncured in a few days, and my wife and I lived together as agreeably\nas if I had never eat of the garlic ragout. But having been all my\nlifetime used to enjoy my liberty, I grew weary of being confined to\nthe caliph\u2019s palace; yet I said nothing of it to my wife, for fear\nof displeasing her. However, she suspected it, and wanted nothing\nmore herself than to get out; for it was gratitude alone that made\nher continue with Zobeide. Being a very witty woman, she represented\nin such lively terms to her mistress the constraint I was under, in\nnot living in the city with people of my own rank, as I had always\ndone, that the good princess chose rather to deprive herself of the\npleasure of having her favourite about her, than not to grant what\nwe both equally desired.\n\nA month after our marriage, my wife came into the room with several\neunuchs, carrying each a bag of silver. When the eunuchs were gone,\nYou never told me, said she, that you were uneasy in being confined\nto court; but I perceived it, and have happily found means to make\nyou contented. My mistress, Zobeide, gives us leave to go out of the\npalace, and here are fifty thousand sequins of which she has made us\na present, in order to enable us to live comfortably in the city.\nTake ten thousand of them, and go and buy us a house.\n\nI quickly found a house for the money, and after furnishing it\nrichly, we went and lived in it; and kept a great many slaves of\nboth sexes, and made a good figure. In short, we began to live a\nvery agreeable life, but it did not last long. At a year\u2019s end, my\nwife fell sick and died.\n\nI might have married again, and lived honourably at Bagdad; but\ncuriosity to see the world put me upon another course. I sold my\nhouse, and after purchasing several sorts of goods, I went with a\ncaravan to Persia; from Persia, I travelled to Samarcande, and from\nthence hither.\n\nThis, said the purveyor to the sultan of Casgar, this is the story\nthat the Bagdad merchant told in company where I was yesterday. This\nstory, said the sultan, has something in it extraordinary; but it\ndoes not come near that of my little Hunchback. Then the Jewish\nphysician prostrated himself before the sultan\u2019s throne, and\nrising again, addressed himself to that prince in the following\nmanner: Sir, if you will be so good as to hear me, I flatter myself\nyou will be pleased with a story I have to tell you. Well spoken,\nsaid the sultan; but if it is not more surprising than that of\nlittle Hunch-back, you must not expect to live.\n\n\n\n\nThe Story told by the Jewish Physician.\n\n\nSir, when I was studying physic at Damascus, and was just beginning\nto practise that noble profession with some reputation, a man slave\ncalled me to see a patient in the governor of the city\u2019s family.\nAccordingly, I went, and was conducted into a room, where I found a\nvery handsome young man, much dejected by his disorder: I saluted\nhim, and sat down by him; but he made no return to my compliments,\nonly a sign with his eyes that he heard me, and thanked me. Pray,\nsir, said I, give me your hand, that I may feel your pulse. But\ninstead of stretching out his right, he gave me his left hand, at\nwhich I was extremely surprised. This, said I to myself, is a gross\npiece of ignorance, that he does not know that people present their\nright hand, and not their left, to a physician. However, I felt his\npulse, wrote him a prescription, and took my leave.\n\nI continued my visits for nine days, and every time I felt his\npulse, he still gave me his left hand. On the tenth day he seemed to\nbe pretty well, and so I prescribed nothing for him but bathing. The\ngovernor of Damascus, who was by, in testimony of his being well\nsatisfied with my service, invested me with a rich robe, saying he\nmade me a physician of the city hospital, and physician in ordinary\nto his house, where I might freely eat at his table when I pleased.\n\nThe young man likewise showed me many civilities, and asked me to\naccompany him to the bath. Accordingly, we went together, and when\nhis attendants had undressed him, I perceived he wanted the right\nhand, and that it had not long been cut off, which had been the\noccasion of his disorder, though concealed from me; for while the\npeople about him were applying proper medicines externally, they had\ncalled me to prevent the ill consequence of the fever which was on\nhim. I was very much surprised and concerned on seeing his\nmisfortune, which he observed by my countenance. Doctor, cried he,\ndo not be astonished to see that my hand is cut off; some day or\nother, I will tell you the occasion of it; and in that relation you\nwill be entertained with very surprising adventures.\n\nAfter we had done bathing, we sat down to table; and after some\nother discourse together, he asked me if it would be any prejudice\nto his health if he went and took a walk out of town in the\ngovernor\u2019s garden? I made answer, so far from it, that the air\nwould benefit his health. Since it is so, said he, if you will give\nme your company, I will tell you the history of my adventures. I\nreplied, I was at his command for all that day. Upon which he\npresently called his servants to bring something for a collation,\nand we went to the governor\u2019s garden. There we took two or three\nturns, and then sat down upon a carpet that his servants had spread\nunder a tree, which gave a very pleasant shade. After we were\nseated, the young man gave me his history in the following terms:\n\nI was born, said he, at Moussoul, of one of the most considerable\nfamilies in the city. My father was the eldest of ten brothers, who\nwere all alive and married when my grandfather died. All the\nbrothers were childless, but my father; and he has no child but me.\nHe took particular care of my education, and made me learn every\nthing proper for a child of my rank.\n\nWhen I was grown up, and began to keep company with the world, I\nhappened one Friday to be at noon-prayers with my father and my\nuncles in the great mosque of Moussoul. And after prayers were over,\nthe rest of the company going away, my father and my uncles\ncontinued sitting upon the best carpet in the mosque; and I sat down\nby them. They discoursed of several things, but the conversation\nfell insensibly, I know not how, upon the subject of voyages. They\nextolled the beauties and peculiar rarities of some kingdoms, and of\ntheir principal cities. But one of my uncles said, that according to\nthe uniform report of an infinite number of voyagers, there was not\nin the world a pleasanter country than Egypt and the Nile; and the\naccount he gave of them infused into me such a charming idea of\nthem, that from that very moment I had a desire to travel thither.\nWhatever my other uncles said, by way of preference to Bagdad and\nthe Tigris, in calling Bagdad the true residence of the Mussulman\nreligion, and the metropolis of all the cities of the earth, made no\nimpression upon me. My father joined in opinion with those of his\nbrothers who had spoken in favour of Egypt; which filled me with\njoy. Say what you will, said he, the man that has not seen Egypt,\nhas not seen the greatest rarity in the world. All the land there is\ngolden; I mean, it is so fertile that it enriches its inhabitants.\nAll the women of that country charm you by their beauty and their\nagreeable carriage. If you speak of the Nile, where is there a more\nwonderful river? What water was ever lighter or more delicious? The\nvery slime it carries along in its overflowing fattens the fields,\nwhich produce a thousand times more than other countries that are\ncultivated with the greatest labour. Observe what a poet said of the\nEgyptians, when he was obliged to depart from Egypt: Your Nile loads\nyou with blessings every day; it is for you only that it runs from\nsuch a distance. Alas! in removing from you, my tears will flow as\nabundantly as its waters: you are to continue in the enjoyment of\nits sweetnesses, while I am condemned to deprive myself of them\nagainst my will.\n\nIf you look, added my father, towards the island that is formed by\nthe two greatest branches of the Nile, what variety of verdure! What\nenamel of all sorts of flowers! What a prodigious number of cities,\nvillages, canals, and a thousand other agreeable objects! If you\nturn your eyes on the other side, up towards Ethiopia, now many\nother subjects of admiration! I cannot compare the verdure of so\nmany plains, watered with the different canals of the island, better\nthan to brilliant emeralds set in silver. Is not Grand Cairo the\nlargest, the most populous, and the richest city in the universe?\nWhat a number of magnificent edifices, both public and private! If\nyou view the pyramids, you will be filled with astonishment: you\nwill stiffen at the sight of these masses of stone of an enormous\nthickness, which rear their heads to the skies! You will be obliged\nto confess, that the Pharaohs, who employed such riches, and so many\nmen in building them, must have surpassed in magnificence and\ninvention all the monarchs that have appeared since, not only in\nEgypt, but in all the world, for having left monuments so worthy of\ntheir memory: monuments so ancient, that the learned cannot agree\nupon the time of their erection; yet such as stand to this day, and\nwill last to the end of time. I pass over in silence the maritime\ncities of the kingdom of Egypt, such as Damietta, Rosetta,\nAlexandria, where innumerable nations come for various sorts of\ngrain, cloth, and an infinite number of other things calculated for\nthe accommodation and delight of men, I speak of what I know; for I\nspent there some years in my youth, which, as long as I live, I\nshall always reckon the most agreeable part of my life.\n\nMy uncles had no answer to give my father, continued the young man\nof Moussoul, and assented to all he had said of the Nile, of Cairo,\nand of the whole kingdom of Egypt: my imagination was so full of it,\nthat I had not a wink of sleep that night. Soon after, my uncles\ndeclared how much they were struck with my father\u2019s discourse.\nThey made a proposal to him, that they should travel all together\ninto Egypt. He accepted of the proposal; and being rich merchants,\nthey resolved to carry with them such goods as would sell there. I\nfound that they were making preparations for their departure; and\nthereupon went to my father, and begged of him, with tears in my\neyes, that he would suffer me to go along with him, and allow me\nsome stock of goods to trade with on my own account. You are too\nyoung, said my father, to travel into Egypt; the fatigue is too\ngreat for you; and besides, I am sure you will come off a loser in\nyour traffic. These words, however, did not cure the eager desire I\nhad to travel. I made use of my uncles\u2019 interest with my father,\nwho at last granted me leave to go as far as Damascus, where they\nwere to leave me, till they travelled through Egypt. The city of\nDamascus, said my father, may likewise glory in its beauties, and my\nson must be content with leave to go so far. Though my curiosity to\nsee Egypt was very pressing, I considered he was my father, and\nsubmitted to his will.\n\nI set out from Moussoul with him and my uncles. We travelled through\nMesopotamia, passed the Euphrates, and arrived at Aleppo, where we\nstaid some days. From thence we went to Damascus, the first sight of\nwhich agreeably surprised me. We lodged all together in one khan;\nand I had the view of a city that was large, populous, full of\nhandsome people, and well fortified. We employed some days in\nwalking up and down the delicious gardens that surrounded it; and we\nall agreed, that Damascus was justly said to be seated in a\nparadise. At last my uncles thought of pursuing their journey; but\ntook care, before they went, to sell my goods so advantageously for\nme, that I got five hundred per cent. This sale fetched me so\nconsiderable a sum, that I was transported to see myself possessed\nof it.\n\nMy father and my uncles left me in Damascus, and pursued their\njourney. After their departure, I used great caution not to lay out\nmy money idly. But at the same time I took a stately house, all of\nmarble, adorned with paintings of gold, silver foliage, and a garden\nwith fine water-works. I furnished it, not so richly indeed as the\nmagnificence of the place deserved, but at least handsomely enough\nfor a young man of my rank. It had formerly belonged to one of the\nprincipal lords of the city, whose name was Modoun Aldalraham; but\nthen was the property of a rich jewel merchant, to whom I paid for\nit only two sherifs [72] a month. I had a number of domestics, and\nlived honourably; sometimes I gave entertainments to such people as\nI had made an acquaintance with, and sometimes I went and was\ntreated by them. Thus did I spend my time at Damascus, waiting for\nmy father\u2019s return; no passion disturbed my repose, and my only\nemployment was conversation with people of credit.\n\nOne day, as I sat taking the cool air at my gate, a very handsome\nwell dressed lady came to me, and asked me, if I did not sell\nstuffs? She no sooner spoke the words than she went into my house.\n\nWhen I saw that the lady was gone into the house, I rose, and having\nshut the gate, conducted her into a hall, and prayed her to sit\ndown. Madam, said I, I have had stuffs that are fit to be shown to\nyou, but I have them not now, for which I am very sorry. She took\noff the veil that covered her face, and discovered a beautiful\nperson, which affected me with such emotions, as I had never felt\nbefore. I have no occasion for stuffs, said she; I only come to see\nyou, and pass the evening with you, if you please: all I ask of you\nis a light collation.\n\nTransported with such good luck, I ordered the servants to bring us\nseveral sorts of fruits, and some bottles of wine. They served us\nwith despatch, and we ate, drank and made merry till midnight. In\nshort, I had not before passed a night so agreeably as this. Next\nmorning, I would have put ten sherifs in the lady\u2019s hands, but she\ndrew back instantly. I am not come to see you, said she, with an\ninterested design; you affront me; far from receiving money of you,\nI desire you to take money of me, or else I will see you no more. In\nspeaking this, she put her hand into her purse, took out ten\nsherifs, and forced me to take them, saying, You may expect me three\ndays hence after sunset. Then she took leave of me, and I felt that\nwhen she went she carried my heart along with her.\n\nShe did not fail to return at the appointed hour three days after,\nand I did not fail to receive her with all the joy of a person who\nwaited impatiently for her arrival. The evening and the night we\nspent as before; and next day, at parting, she promised to return\nthe third day after. However, she did not go without forcing me to\ntake ten sherifs more.\n\nShe returned a third time; and at that interview, when we were both\nwarm with wine, she spoke thus: My dear heart, what do you think of\nme? Am I not handsome and agreeable? Madam, said I, I think this an\nunnecessary question; all the expressions of love which I show you,\nought to persuade you that I love you; I am charmed to see you and\npossess you. You are my queen, my sultaness; in you lies all the\nfelicity of my life. Ah! replied she, I am sure you would speak\notherwise if you saw a certain lady of my acquaintance, that is\nyounger and handsomer than I. She is of such a pleasant, lively\ntemper, that she would make the most melancholy people merry: I must\nbring her hither; I spoke of you to her, and from the account which\nI have given of you, she is dying with desire to see you. She\nentreated me to procure her that pleasure, but I did not dare to\nhumour her without speaking to you beforehand. Madam, said I, do\nwhat you please; but whatever you may say of your friend, I defy all\nher charms to tear my heart from you, to whom it is so inviolably\nattached that nothing can disengage it. Be not too positive, said\nshe, I now tell you I am about to put your heart to a strange trial.\n\nWe staid together all night, and next morning, at parting, instead\nof ten sherifs, she gave me fifteen, which I was forced to accept.\nRemember, said she, that in two days\u2019 time, you are to have a new\nguest; pray take care to give her a good reception; we will come at\nthe usual hour, after sunset. I took care to have my hall in great\norder, and a handsome collation prepared against they came.\n\nI waited for the two ladies with impatience, and at last they\narrived at the beginning of the night. They both unveiled\nthemselves, and as I had been surprised with the beauty of the\nfirst, I had reason to be much more so when I saw her friend. She\nhad regular features, a complete person, and such sparkling eyes,\nthat I could hardly bear their splendour. I thanked her for the\nhonour she did me, and entreated her to excuse me if I did not give\nher the reception she deserved. No compliments, said she; it should\nbe my part to make them to you, for allowing my friend to bring me\nhither. But since you are pleased to suffer it, let us lay aside all\nceremony, and think only of amusing ourselves.\n\nI had given orders, as soon as the ladies arrived, to have the\ncollation served up, and we soon sat down to supper. I sat opposite\nto the strange lady, and she never ceased looking upon me with a\nsmile. I could not resist her conquering eyes, and she possessed\nherself so powerfully of my heart, that I could offer no opposition.\nBut while she inspired me with a flame, she caught the flame\nherself, and so far from showing any constraint in her carriage, she\nheld to me very lively language.\n\nThe other lady, who observed us, did nothing at first but laugh at\nus. I told you, said she, addressing herself to me, you would find\nmy friend full of charms; and I perceive you have already violated\nthe oath you made me of being faithful to me. Madam, said I,\nlaughing as well as she, you would have reason to complain of me if\nI were wanting in civility to a lady whom you brought hither, and\nwho is a favourite with you; both of you might then upbraid me, for\nnot knowing how to do the honours of my house.\n\nWe continued to drink; but as the wine warmed us, the strange lady\nand I ogled one another with so little reserve, that her friend grew\njealous, and quickly gave us a dismal proof of her jealousy. She\nrose from the table and went out, saying she would be with us\npresently again; but a few moments after, the lady that staid with\nme changed countenance, fell into violent convulsions, and, in\nshort, expired in my arms, while I was calling for assistance to\nrelieve her. I went out immediately, and asked for the other lady,\nand my people told me, she had opened the street door, and was gone.\nThen I suspected what was but too true, that she had been the cause\nof her friend\u2019s death. She had the dexterity and the malice to put\nsome very strong poison into the last glass, which she gave her with\nher own hand.\n\nI was afflicted to the last degree with the accident. What shall I\ndo? thought I, what will become of me? I considered there was no\ntime to lose, and it being then moonlight, I made my servants\nquietly take up one of the great pieces of marble with which the\ncourt of my house was paved; under that I made them presently dig a\nhole, and there inter the corpse of the young lady. After replacing\nthe stone, I put on a travelling suit, and took what money I had,\nand having locked up every thing, affixed my own seal on the door of\nmy house. This done, I went to see for the jewel merchant my\nlandlord; paid him what rent I owed, with a year\u2019s rent in\nadvance; and giving him the key, prayed him to keep it for me. A\nvery urgent affair, said I, obliges me to be absent for some time; I\nam under the necessity of going to find out my uncles at Cairo. I\ntook my leave of him, immediately mounted my horse, and set off with\nmy attendants.\n\nI had a good journey, and arrived at Cairo without any accident.\nThere I met with my uncles, who were very much surprised to see me.\nTo excuse myself, I pretended I was tired of staying for them; and\nhearing nothing of them, was so uneasy, that I could not be\nsatisfied without coming to Cairo. They received me very kindly, and\npromised my father should not be angry with me for leaving Damascus\nwithout his permission. I lodged in the same khan with them, and saw\nall the curiosities of Cairo.\n\nHaving finished their traffic, they began to talk of returning to\nMoussoul, and to make preparations for their departure; but I having\na mind to see something in Egypt that I had not yet seen, left my\nuncles, and went to lodge in another quarter, at a distance from the\nkhan, and did not appear any more till they were gone. They sought\nfor me all over the city; but not finding me, they supposed remorse\nfor having come to Egypt, without my father\u2019s consent, had put me\non returning to Damascus, without saying any thing to them. So they\nbegan their journey, expecting to find me at Damascus, and there to\ntake me up.\n\nI continued at Cairo after their departure three years, more\ncompletely to indulge my curiosity after all the wonders of Egypt.\nDuring that time, I took care to send money to the jewel merchant,\nordering him to keep my house for me; for I designed to return to\nDamascus, and stay there some years more. I had no adventure at\nCairo worth relating; but, doubtless, you will be very much\nsurprised at that I met with after my return to Damascus.\n\nArriving at this city, I went to the jewel-merchant\u2019s house, who\nreceived me joyfully, and would needs go along with me to my house,\nto show me that nobody had entered it while I was absent. The seal\nwas still entire upon the lock; and when I went in, I found every\nthing in the same order in which I had left it.\n\nIn sweeping and cleaning out my hall where I had used to eat with\nthe ladies, one of my servants found a gold chain necklace, with ten\nvery large and very perfect pearls placed upon it at certain\ndistances. He brought it to me, and I knew it to be the same I had\nseen upon the lady\u2019s neck that was poisoned, and concluded it had\nbroken off and fallen, when I did not perceive it. I could not look\nupon it without shedding tears, when I called to mind the lovely\ncreature I had seen die in such a shocking manner. I wrapt it up and\nput it in my bosom.\n\nI passed some days to recover from the fatigues of my voyage; after\nwhich, I began to visit my former acquaintance. I abandoned myself\nto all manner of pleasure, and insensibly squandered away all my\nmoney. Being thus reduced, instead of selling my furniture, I\nresolved to part with my necklace; but I had so little skill in\npearls, that I took my measures very ill, as you shall hear.\n\nI went to the bezestein, where I called a crier aside, and showing\nhim the necklace, told him I had a mind to sell it, and desired him\nto show it to the principal jewellers. The crier was surprised to\nsee such a trinket. What a pretty thing it is! cried he, staring\nupon it a long while with admiration; never did our merchants see\nany thing so rich. I am sure I shall oblige them highly in showing\nit to them; and you need not doubt they will set a high price upon\nit, in emulation of each other. He carried me to a shop, which\nproved to be my landlord\u2019s. Stay here, said the crier, I will\nreturn presently, and bring you an answer.\n\nWhile he was running about to show the necklace with much caution, I\nsat with the jeweller, who was glad to see me, and we conversed on\ndifferent subjects. The crier returned, and calling me aside,\ninstead of telling me the necklace was valued at two thousand\nsherifs, he assured me nobody would give me more than fifty. The\nreason is, added he, the pearls are false: consider, see if you will\npart with it at that price. I took him at his word, and wanting\nmoney, Go, said I, I take your word, and that of those who know\nbetter than myself; deliver it to them, and bring me the money\nimmediately.\n\nThe crier had been ordered to offer me fifty sherifs by one of the\nrichest jewellers in town, who had only made that offer to sound me,\nand try if I was well acquainted with the value of the goods I\nexposed to sale. He had no sooner received my answer than he carried\nthe crier to the judge, and showing him the necklace, Sir, said he,\nhere is a necklace that was stolen from me, and the thief, under the\ncharacter of a merchant, has had the impudence to offer it for sale;\nand is at this minute in the bezestein. He is willing to take fifty\nsherifs for a necklace that is worth two thousand, which is a plain\nargument that it is stolen.\n\nThe judge sent immediately to seize me; and when I came before him,\nhe asked me, if the necklace he had in his hand was not the same\nthat I had exposed to sale in the bezestein. I told him it was. Is\nit true, said he, that you are willing to deliver it for fifty\nsherifs? I answered I was. Well, said he, in a scoffing way to me,\ngive him the bastinado; he will quickly tell us, with all his fine\nmerchant\u2019s clothes, that he is only a downright thief; let him be\nbeat till he confesses. The violence of the blows made me tell a\nlie: I confessed, though it was not true, that I had stolen the\nnecklace: and presently the judge ordered my hand to be cut off.\n\nThis made a great noise in the bezestein; and I was scarce returned\nto my house when my landlord came. My son, said he, you seem to be a\nyoung man well educated, and of good sense; how is it possible you\ncould be guilty of such an unworthy action as that I hear talk of?\nYou gave me an account of your property yourself, and I do not doubt\nbut the account is just. Why did not you ask money of me, and I\nwould have lent it you? However, after what has happened, I cannot\nallow you to lodge longer in my house; you must go and seek for\nother lodgings. I was extremely troubled at this; and entreated the\njeweller, with tears in my eyes, to let me stay three days longer in\nhis house, which he granted.\n\nAlas! said I to myself, this misfortune and affront is unsufferable:\nhow shall I dare to return to Moussoul? Nothing I can say to my\nfather will persuade him that I am innocent.\n\nThree hours after this fatal accident my house was assaulted by the\njudge\u2019s officers, accompanied with my landlord, and the merchant\nthat had falsely accused me of having stolen the necklace. I asked\nthem what brought them there. But instead of giving me any answer,\nthey bound and gagged me, calling me a thousand rogues, and telling\nme, the necklace belonged to the governor of Damascus, who had lost\nit above three years ago, and that one of his daughters had not been\nheard of since that time. Judge my sensations when I heard this\nnews. However, I summoned all my resolution: I will tell, thought I,\nI will tell the governor the truth; and so it will rest with him\neither to put me to death, or to pardon me.\n\nWhen I was brought before him, I observed he looked upon me with an\neye of compassion, from whence I augured well. He ordered me to be\nuntied; and addressing himself to the jeweller who accused me, and\nto my landlord, Is this the man, said he, that sold the pearl\nnecklace? They had no sooner answered yes, than he said, I am sure\nhe did not steal the necklace, and I am much astonished at the\ninjustice that has been done him. These words giving me courage,\nSir, said I, I do assure you I am perfectly innocent. I am likewise\nfully persuaded the necklace did never belong to my accuser, whom I\nnever saw, and whose horrible perfidy is the cause of my unjust\ntreatment. It is true, I made a confession as if I had stolen it;\nbut this I did contrary to my conscience through the force of\ntorture, and for another reason that I am ready to tell you, if you\nwill be so good as to hear me. I know enough of it already, replied\nthe governor, to do you one part of the justice that is due to you.\nTake from hence continued he, take the false accuser; let him\nundergo the same punishment he caused to be inflicted on this young\nman whose innocence is known to me.\n\nThe governor\u2019s orders were immediately put in execution: the\njeweller was punished as he deserved. Then the governor, having\nordered all the company to withdraw, said to me, My son, tell me\nwithout fear how this necklace fell into your hands --conceal\nnothing from me. Then I told him plainly all that had passed, and\ndeclared I had chosen rather to pass for a thief than to reveal that\ntragical adventure. Good God! said the governor, thy judgments are\nincomprehensible, and we ought to submit to them without murmuring.\nI receive, with an entire submission, the stroke thou hast been\npleased to inflict upon me. Then, directing his discourse to me, My\nson, said he, having now heard the cause of your disgrace, for which\nI am very much concerned, I will give you an account of the disgrace\nthat befell me. Know, then, that I am the father of those two young\nladies you were speaking of but now. The first lady, who had the\nimpudence to come to your house, was my eldest daughter. I had given\nher in marriage, at Cairo, to one of her cousins, my brother\u2019s\nson. Her husband died, and she returned home, corrupted with all\nmanner of wickedness which she had learned in Egypt. Before I took\nher home, her youngest sister, who died in that deplorable manner in\nyour arms, was a very prudent young woman, and had never given me\nany occasion to complain of her conduct. But after that, the eldest\nsister grew very intimate with her, and insensibly made her as\nwicked as herself.\n\nThe day after the death of the youngest, not finding her at table, I\nasked her eldest sister what was become of her; but she, instead of\nanswering, fell to crying bitterly, from whence I formed a fatal\npresage. I pressed her to inform me of what I asked her. Father,\nsaid she, sobbing, I can tell you no more than that my sister put on\nher best clothes yesterday, and her fine pearl necklace, and went\nout, and has not been heard of since. I made search for my daughter\nall over the town, but could learn nothing of her unhappy fate. In\nthe mean time the eldest, who doubtless repented of her jealous\nfury, took on very much, and incessantly bewailed the death of her\nsister; she denied herself all manner of food, and so put an end to\nher deplorable days.\n\nSuch, continued the governor, such is the condition of mankind!\n--such are the unlucky accidents to which they are exposed! However,\nmy son, added he, since we are both of us equally unfortunate, let\nus unite our sorrow, and not abandon one another. I give you in\nmarriage a third daughter I have still left; she is younger than her\nsisters, and in no respect imitates their conduct; besides, she is\nhandsomer than they were, and I assure you is of a disposition\ncalculated to make you happy. You shall have no other house but\nmine; and after my death, you and she shall be heirs to all my\nproperty.\n\nSir, said I, I am ashamed of all your favours, and shall never be\nable to make a sufficient acknowledgment. Enough, said he,\ninterrupting me; let us not waste time in idle words. This said, he\ncalled for witnesses, ordered the contract of marriage to be drawn,\nand I married his daughter without farther ceremony.\n\nHe was not satisfied with punishing the jeweller who had falsely\naccused me, but confiscated for my use all his property, which was\nvery considerable. As for the rest, since you have been called to\nthe governor\u2019s house, you may have seen what respect they pay me\nthere. I must tell you further, that a man who has been sent by my\nuncles to Egypt, on purpose to inquire for me there, passing through\nthis city, found me out, and came last night and delivered me a\nletter from them. They inform me of my father\u2019s death, and invite\nme to come and take possession of his estate at Moussoul; but as the\nalliance and friendship of the governor have fixed me with him, and\nwill not suffer me to leave him, I have sent back the express with a\npower, which will secure to me my property. After what you have\nheard, I hope you will pardon my incivility during the course of my\nillness, in giving you my left instead of my right hand.\n\nThis, said the Jewish physician, this is the story I heard from the\nyoung man of Moussoul. I continued at Damascus as long as the\ngovernor lived: after his death, being in the flower of my age, I\nhad the curiosity to travel. Accordingly, I went through Persia to\nthe Indies, and came at last to settle in this your capital, where I\npractise physic with reputation.\n\nThe sultan of Casgar was well pleased with this last story. I must\nsay, said he to the Jew, the story you have told me is very\nsingular; but I declare freely, that of the little hump-back is yet\nmore extraordinary, and much more comical, so you are not to expect\nthat I will give you your life, any more than the rest. I will hang\nyou all four. Pray, sir, stay a minute, said the tailor, advancing\nforwards, and prostrating himself at the sultan\u2019s feet; since your\nmajesty loves pleasant stories, I have one to tell you that will not\ndisplease you. Well, I will hear thee too, said the sultan; but do\nnot flatter thyself that I will suffer thee to live, unless thou\ntellest me some adventure that is yet more diverting than that of\nthe hump-backed man. Upon this the tailor, as if he had been sure of\nhis scheme, spoke boldly to the following purpose:--\n\n\n\n\nThe Story told by the Tailor.\n\n\nA citizen of this city did me the honour, two days ago, to invite me\nto a treat which he was to give to his friends yesterday morning.\nAccordingly I went early, and found there about twenty persons.\n\nThe master of the house was gone out upon some business, but in a\nvery little time he came home, and brought with him a young man, a\nstranger, very well dressed, and very handsome, but lame. When he\ncame in, we all rose up, and, out of respect to the master of the\nhouse, invited the young man to sit down with us upon the sofa. He\nwas going to do so, but, all on a sudden, spying a barber in our\ncompany, he flew backwards, and made towards the door. The master of\nthe house, surprised at his behaviour, stopped him. Where are you\ngoing? said he. I brought you along with me to do me the honour of\nbeing my guest among the rest of my friends, and you are no sooner\ngot into my house, but you are for running away again. Sir, said the\nyoung man, for God\u2019s sake do not stop me --let me go: I cannot\nwithout horror look upon that abominable barber, who, though he was\nborn in a country where all the natives are white, resembles an\nEthiopian, and his soul is yet blacker and more horrible than his\nface.\n\nWe were all surprised to hear the young man speak so, and we began\nto have a very bad opinion of the barber, without knowing what\nground the young man had for what he said. Nay, we protested we\nwould not suffer any one to remain in our company who bore so horrid\na character. The master of the house entreated the stranger to tell\nus what reason he had for hating the barber. Gentlemen, said the\nyoung man, you must know this cursed barber is the cause of my being\nlame, and falling under the cruellest accident that any one can\nimagine. For this reason I have sworn to avoid all the places where\nhe is, and even not to stay in the cities where he dwells. It was\nfor this reason that I left Bagdad, where he then was, and travelled\nso far to settle in this city, in the heart of Great Tartary, a\nplace where I flattered myself I should never see him; and now,\nafter all, contrary to my expectation, I find him here. This obliges\nme, gentlemen, against my will, to deprive myself of the honour of\nbeing merry with you. This very day I take leave of your town, and\nwill go, if I can, to hide my head where he shall not come. This\nsaid, he would have left us, but the master of the house kept him,\nand entreated him to stay, and tell us the cause of his aversion for\nthe barber, who all this while looked down, and said not a word.\n--We joined with the master of the house in requesting him to stay;\nand, at last, the young man, yielding to our importunities, sat down\nupon the sofa; and, after turning his back to the barber, that he\nmight not see him, gave us the following account:--\n\nMy father\u2019s quality might have entitled him to the highest posts\nin the city of Bagdad; but he always preferred a quiet life to all\nthe honours he might deserve. I was his only child, and when he died\nI was already educated, and of age to dispose of the plentiful\nfortune he had left me; which I did not squander away foolishly, but\napplied it to such uses that every body respected me.\n\nI had not been yet disturbed with any passion; I was so far from\nbeing sensible of love, that I acknowledge, perhaps to my shame,\nthat I cautiously avoided the conversation of women. One day,\nwalking in the streets, I saw a great company of ladies before me,\nand that I might not meet them, I turned down a narrow lane just by,\nand sat down upon a bench by a door. I sat over against a window\nwhere there stood a pot with very pretty flowers, and I had my eyes\nfixed upon it, when on a sudden the window opened, and a young lady\nappeared, whose beauty struck me. Immediately she cast her eyes upon\nme; and in watering the flower-pot with a hand whiter than\nalabaster, looked upon me with a smile that inspired me with as much\nlove for her, as I had formerly aversion for all women. After having\nwatered her flowers, and darted upon me a glance full of charms that\npierced my heart, she shut the window again, and left me in\ninconceivable perplexity, from which I should not have recovered, if\na noise in the street had not brought me to myself. I lifted up my\nhead, and turning saw the first cadi of the city, mounted on a mule,\nand attended by five or six servants: he alighted at the door of the\nhouse where the young lady had opened the window, and went in; from\nwhence I concluded he was the young lady\u2019s father.\n\nI went home in a different state of mind; tossed with a passion the\nmore violent, as I had never felt its assaults before: I went to bed\nin a violent fever, at which all the family was much concerned. My\nrelations, who had a great affection for me, were so alarmed with\nthe sudden disorder, that they importuned me to tell the cause;\nwhich I took care not to discover. My silence created an uneasiness\nthat the physicians could not dispel, because they knew nothing of\nmy distemper, and by their medicines they rather inflamed than\nchecked it.\n\nMy relations began to despair of my life, when an old lady of our\nacquaintance hearing I was ill, came to see me. She considered me\nwith great attention, and after having examined me, penetrated, I\nknow not how, the real cause of my illness. She took my relations\naside, and desired all my people would retire out of the room, and\nleave her alone with me.\n\nWhen the room was clear, she sat down on the side of my bed. My son,\nsaid she, you have obstinately concealed the cause of your illness;\nbut you have no occasion to reveal it to me. I have experience\nenough to penetrate into a secret; you will not deny it, when I tell\nyou it is love that makes you sick. I can find a way to cure you, if\nyou will but let me know who that happy lady is that could move a\nheart so insensible as yours; for you have the character of a\nwoman-hater, and I was not the last that perceived that such was\nyour disposition; but what I foresaw has come to pass, and I am now\nglad of the opportunity to employ my talents in relieving your pain.\n\nThe old lady, having talked to me thus, paused, expecting my answer;\nbut though what she had said had made a strong impression upon me, I\ndurst not lay open to her the bottom of my heart: I only turned to\nher, and fetched a deep sigh, without saying any thing. Is it\nbashfulness, said she, that keeps you from speaking? or is it want\nof confidence in me? Do you doubt the effect of my promise? I could\nmention to you a number of young men of your acquaintance that have\nbeen in the same condition with you, and have received relief from\nme.\n\nThe good lady told me so many more circumstances, that I broke\nsilence, declared to her my complaint, pointed out to her the place\nwhere I had seen the object which occasioned it, and unravelled all\nthe circumstances of my adventure. If you succeed, said I, and\nprocure me the happiness of seeing that charming beauty, and\nrevealing to her the passion with which I burn for her, you may\ndepend upon it I will be grateful. --My son, said the old woman, I\nknow the lady you speak of; she is, as you rightly judge, the\ndaughter of the first cadi of this city. I am not surprised that you\nare in love with her: she is the handsomest and most lovely lady in\nBagdad; but what I most hesitate about is, that she is very proud,\nand of difficult access. You know now strict our judges are in\nenjoining the punctual observance of the severe laws that confine\nwomen in such a strict constraint; and they are yet more strict in\nthe observation of them in their own families: the cadi you saw is\nmore rigid in that point than all the other magistrates together.\nThey are always preaching to their daughters what a heinous crime it\nis to shew themselves to men; and the girls themselves are so\nprepossessed with the notion, that they make no other use of their\nown eyes but to conduct them along the street, when necessity\nobliges them to go abroad. I do not say absolutely that the first\ncadi\u2019s daughter is of that humour; but that does not hinder my\nfearing to meet with as great obstacles on her side as on her\nfather\u2019s. Would to God you had loved any other! then I should not\nhave had so many difficulties to surmount. However, I shall employ\nall my wits to compass the matter; but it requires time. In the mean\ntime, take courage, and trust in me.\n\nThe old woman took leave of me; and as I weighed within myself all\nthe obstacles she had been talking of, the fear of her not\nsucceeding in her undertaking inflamed my disorder. Next day she\ncame again, and I read in her countenance that she had no favourable\nnews to impart. She spoke thus; My son, I was not mistaken; I have\nsomewhat else to conquer besides the vigilance of a father: you love\nan insensible object, who takes pleasure in making every one burn\nwith love who suffer themselves to be charmed by her; but she will\nnot deign them the least comfort. She heard me with pleasure, when I\nspoke of nothing but the torment she made you undergo; but I no\nsooner opened my mouth to engage her to allow you to see her, and\nconverse with her, but casting at me a terrible look, You are very\nbold, said she, to make such a proposal to me; I charge you never to\nsee me again with such language.\n\nDo not let this cast you down, continued she; I am not easily\ndisheartened; and if your patience does but hold out, I am hopeful I\nshall compass my end. To shorten my story, said the young man, this\ngood go-between made several fruitless attacks in my behalf on the\nproud enemy of my rest. The vexation I suffered inflamed my\ndistemper to that degree, that my physicians gave me over. I was\nconsidered as a dead man, when the old woman came to recall me to\nlife.\n\nThat nobody might hear what was said, she whispered in my ear,\n--Remember the present you owe for the good news I bring you. These\nwords produced a marvellous effect; I raised myself up in the bed,\nand with transport made answer. You shall not go without a present;\nbut what is the news you bring me? --Dear sir, said she, you shall\nnot die; I shall speedily have the pleasure to see you in perfect\nhealth, and very well satisfied with me. Yesterday, being Monday, I\nwent to see the lady you love, and found her in a very good humour.\nAs soon as I came in, I put on a sad countenance, and fetched many\ndeep sighs, and began to squeeze out some tears: My good mother,\nsaid she, what is the matter with you? why are you so cast down?\n--Alas, my dear and honourable lady, said I, I have been just now\nwith the young gentleman I spoke to you of the other day; his\nbusiness is done; he is giving up his life for love of you; it is a\npity, I assure you, and you have been very cruel. --I am at a loss\nto know, replied she, how you charge me to be the cause of his\ndeath. How can I have contributed to it? --How, replied I, did not\nyou tell me the other day, that he sat down before your window, when\nyou opened it to water your flower-pot? He then saw that prodigy of\nbeauty, those charms that your mirror represents to you every day.\nFrom that moment he languished, and his disorder is risen to such a\nheight, that he is reduced to the deplorable condition I have\nmentioned.\n\nYou remember well, added I, how rigorously you treated me the last\ntime I was here, when I was offering to speak to you of his illness,\nand to propose a means to rescue him from the danger he was in: when\nI took leave of you, I went straight to his house, and he, knew no\nsooner by my countenance that I had brought no favourable answer,\nthan his distemper increased. From that time, madam, he has been\nready to die, and I do not know whether you can save his life now,\nthough you should take pity on him. This is just what I said to her,\ncontinued the old woman. The fear of your death alarmed her, and I\nsaw her face change colour. Is what you say true? said she. Has he\nactually no other disorder but what was occasioned by the love of\nme? --Ah! madam, said I, it is too true; would to God it were false!\n--Do you believe, said she, that the hopes of seeing me would at all\ncontribute to rescue him from the danger he is in? --Perhaps it may,\nsaid I; and if you will give me orders, I will try the remedy.\n--Well, said she, sighing, give him hopes of seeing me; but he must\npretend to no other favour from me, unless he aspires to marry me,\nand my father gives his consent to it. --Madam, replied I, your\ngoodness overcomes me: I will go and seek the young gentleman, and\ntell him he is to have the pleasure of an interview with you. --The\nproperest time I can think of, said she, for granting him that\nfavour, is next Friday, at the time of noon prayers. Let him take\ncare to observe when my father goes out, and then come and plant\nhimself over-against the house, if his health permits him to come\nabroad. When he comes, I shall see him through my window, and shall\ncome down and open the door to him: we shall then converse together\nduring prayer-time, and he must be gone before my father returns.\n\nIt is now Tuesday, continued the old lady; you have from this time\nto Friday to recover your strength, and make the necessary\ndispositions for the interview. While the good old lady was\nspeaking, I felt my illness decrease; or rather, by the time she had\ndone. I found myself perfectly well. Here, take this, said I,\nreaching out to her my purse, which was full; it is to you alone\nthat I owe my cure. I reckon this money better employed than all\nthat I gave to the physicians, who have only tormented me during the\nwhole course of my illness.\n\nWhen the lady was gone, I found I had strength enough to get up; and\nmy relations finding me so well, complimented me upon it, and went\nhome.\n\nFriday morning the old woman came, just when I was dressing myself,\nand choosing out the finest clothes in my wardrobe. I do not ask\nyou, said she, how you do: what you are about is intimation enough\nof your health: but will not you bathe before you go to the first\ncadi\u2019s house? --That will take up too much time, said I; I will\ncontent myself with sending for a barber to shave my head and beard.\nImmediately I ordered one of my slaves to call a barber that could\ndo his business cleverly and expeditiously.\n\nThe slave brought me this wretch you see here; who came, and after\nsaluting me, Sir, said he, you look as if you were not well. I told\nhim I was just recovered from a fit of sickness. I wish, said he,\nGod may deliver you from all mischance; may his grace always go\nalong with you. --I hope, said I, he will grant your wish, for which\nI am very much obliged to you. --Since you are recovering of a fit\nof sickness, said he, I pray God preserve your health; but now pray\nlet me know what I am to do; I have brought my razors and my\nlancets; do you desire to be shaved or to be bled? I replied, I am\njust recovered of a fit of sickness, I told you, and so you may\nreadily judge I only want to be shaved. Come, make haste, do not\nlose time in prattling; for I am in haste, and precisely at noon I\nam to be at a place.\n\nThe barber spent much time in opening his case and preparing his\nrazors; instead of putting water into the basin, he took a very\nhandsome astrolabe out of his case, and went very gravely out of my\nroom to the middle of the yard to take the height of the sun, then\nhe returned with the same grave pace, and entering my room, Sir,\nsaid he, you will be pleased to know this day is Friday, the 18th of\nthe moon Safar, in the year 653 [73] from the retreat of our great\nprophet from Mecca to Medina, and in the year 7320 [74] of the\nepocha of the great Iskender with two horns; and that the\nconjunction of Mars and Mercury signifies you cannot choose a better\ntime than this very day and hour for being shaved. But on the other\nhand, the same conjunction is a bad presage to you. I learn from\nthence, that this day you run a great risk, not indeed of losing\nyour life, but of an inconvenience which will attend you while you\nlive. You are obliged to me for the advice I now give you, to take\ncare to avoid it; I should be sorry if it befell you.\n\nYou may guess, gentlemen, how vexed I was at having fallen into the\nhands of such a prattling, impertinent barber; what an unseasonable\nadventure it was for a lover preparing for an interview! I was quite\nangry. I care not, said I, in anger, for your advice and\npredictions; I did not call you to consult your astrology; you came\nhither to shave me; shave me, or begone. I will call another barber.\n--Sir, said he, with a phlegm that put me out of all patience, what\nreason have you to be angry with me? You do not know that all\nbarbers are not like me; and that you would scarce find such\nanother, if you made it your business to search. You only sent for a\nbarber; but here in my person, you have the best barber in Bagdad,\nan experienced physician, a very profound chemist, an infallible\nastrologer, a finished grammarian, a complete orator, a subtle\nlogician, a mathematician perfectly well versed in geometry,\narithmetic, astronomy, and all the refinements of algebra; an\nhistorian fully master of the histories of all the kingdoms of the\nuniverse. Besides, I know all parts of philosophy. I have all our\nlaw traditions at my fingers\u2019 ends. I am a poet; I am an\narchitect; and what is it I am not? There is nothing in nature\nhidden from me. Your deceased father, to whose memory I pay a\ntribute of tears every time I think of him, was fully convinced of\nmy merit; he was fond of me, and spoke of me in all companies as the\nfirst man in the world. Out of gratitude and friendship for him, I\nam willing to attach myself to you, to take you into my protection,\nand guard you from all the evils that your stars may threaten.\n\nWhen I heard all this stuff I could not forbear laughing,\nnotwithstanding my anger. You impertinent prattler! said I, will you\nhave done, and begin to shave me?\n\nSir, replied the barber to me, you affront me in calling me a\nprattler; on the contrary, all the world gives me the honourable\ntitle of Silent. I had six brothers that you might justly have\ncalled prattlers; and that you may know them the better, the name of\nthe first was Bacbouk, of the second, Bakbarah, of the third,\nBacbac, of the fourth, Alcouz, of the fifth, Alnascar, and of the\nsixth, Schacabac. These, indeed, were impertinent chatterers; but\nfor me, who am a younger brother, I am grave and concise in my\ndiscourse.\n\nFor God\u2019s sake, gentlemen, do but suppose you had been in my\nplace. What could I say, when I saw myself so cruelly situated? Give\nhim three pieces of gold, said I to the slave that was my\nhouse-keeper, and send him away, that he may disturb me no more; I\nwill not be shaved this day. --Sir, said the barber, pray what do\nyou mean by that? I did not come to seek for you, it was you sent\nfor me; and since it is so, I swear by the faith of a Mussulman, I\nwill not stir out of these doors till I have shaved you. If you do\nnot know my value, it is not my fault. Your deceased father did me\nmore justice. Every time he sent for me to let him blood, he made me\nsit down by him, and he was charmed with hearing what fine things I\nsaid to him. I kept him in a continual strain of admiration; I\nelevated him; and when I had finished my discourse, My God, cried\nhe, you are an inexhaustible source of science; no man can reach the\ndepth of your knowledge. My dear sir, said I again, you do me more\nhonour than I deserve. If I say any thing that is fine, it is owing\nto the favourable audience you vouchsafe me; it is your liberality\nthat inspires me with the sublime thoughts that have the happiness\nto please you. One day, when he was charmed with an admirable\ndiscourse I had made him, Give him, said he, a hundred pieces of\ngold, and invest him with one of my richest robes. I received the\npresent upon the spot, and presently I drew his horoscope, and found\nit the happiest in the world. Nay, I carried my gratitude farther; I\nlet him blood with cunning-glasses.\n\nThis was not all; he spun out another harangue that was a full half\nhour long. Tired with hearing him, and fretted at the loss of time,\nwhich was almost spent before I was half ready, I did not know what\nto say. It is impossible, said I, there should be such another man\nin the world, who takes pleasure, as you do, in making people mad.\n\nI thought that I should succeed better, if I dealt mildly with my\nbarber. In the name of God, said I, leave off all your fine talking,\nand despatch me presently; business of the last importance calls me,\nas I have told you already. At this, he fell a laughing; it would be\na laudable thing, said he, if our minds were always in the same\nstate; if we were always wise and prudent; however, I am willing to\nbelieve, that if you are angry with me, it is your distemper has\ncaused that change in your humour; and for that reason you stand in\nneed of some instructions, and you cannot do better than to follow\nthe example of your father and grandfather. They came and consulted\nme upon all occasions, and I can say, without vanity, that they\nalways prized my advice highly. Pray, observe, sir, men never\nsucceed in their undertakings, without the advice of men of\nunderstanding. A man cannot, says the proverb, be wise, without\nreceiving advice from the wise. I am entirely at your service, and\nyou have only to command me.\n\nWhat! cannot I prevail with you then? said I, interrupting him, to\nleave off these long speeches, that tend to nothing but to split my\nhead in pieces, and to detain me from my business? Shave me, I say,\nor begone! With that, I started up in anger, stamping my foot\nagainst the ground.\n\nWhen he saw I was angry in earnest, Sir, said he, do not be angry;\nwe are going to begin. He lathered my head, and fell to shaving me;\nbut he had not given me four strokes of his razor when he stopped,\nsaying, Sir, you are hasty; you should avoid these transports, that\nonly come from the devil. I am entitled to some consideration on\naccount of my age, my knowledge, and my great virtues.\n\nGo on, and shave me, said I, interrupting him again, and talk no\nmore. That is to say, replied he, you have some urgent business to\ngo about; I will lay you a wager, I guess right. Why, I told you so\nthese two hours, said I: you ought to have shaved me before.\nModerate your passion, replied he, perhaps you have not maturely\nweighed what you are going about: when things are done\nprecipitately, they are generally repented of. I wish you would tell\nme what mighty business this is you are so earnest upon; I would\ntell you my opinion of it; besides, you have time enough, since your\nappointment is not till noon, and it wants three hours of that yet.\nI do not mind that, said I, persons of honour and of their word are\nrather before their time than after. But I forget, that in amusing\nmyself with reasoning with you, I give into the faults of you\nprattling barbers: have done, have done; shave me.\n\nThe more haste I was in, the less haste he made. He laid down the\nrazor, and took up his astrolabe; then laid down his astrolabe, and\ntook up his razor again.\n\nThe barber quitted his razor again and took up his astrolabe a\nsecond time; and so left me half shaved, to go and see precisely\nwhat o\u2019clock it was. Back he came, and then, Sir, said he, I knew\nI was not mistaken; it wants three hours of noon. I am sure of it;\nor else, all the rules of astronomy are false. Just heaven! cried I,\nmy patience is at an end. I can bear it no longer. You cursed\nbarber! you barber of mischief! I can scarce help falling upon you\nand strangling you. Softly, sir, said he, very calmly, without being\nmoved by my passion: You are not afraid of a relapse; be not in a\npassion; I am going to shave you this minute. In speaking these\nwords, he clapped his astrolabe in his case, and took up his razor,\nand passing it over the strap which was fixed to his belt, fell to\nshaving me again; but all the while he shaved, the dog could not\nforbear prattling. If you please, sir, said he, to tell me what is\nthe business you are going about at noon, I could give you some\nadvice that may be of use to you. To satisfy the fellow, I told him\nI was going to meet some friends at an entertainment at noon, to\nmake merry with me upon the recovery of my health.\n\nWhen the barber heard me talk of regaling, God bless you this day,\nas well as all other days, cried he: You put me in mind that\nyesterday I invited four or five friends to come and eat with me as\nthis day; indeed I had forgot it, and I have as yet made no\npreparation for them. Do not let that trouble you, said I; though I\ndine abroad, my larder is always well furnished. I make you a\npresent of all that it contains; and besides, I will order you as\nmuch wine as you have occasion for, for I have excellent wine in my\ncellar; only you must dispatch shaving me: and pray remember it;\nwhereas my father made you presents to encourage you to speak, I\ngive you mine to make you hold your tongue.\n\nHe was not satisfied with my promise: God reward you, sir, said he,\nfor your kindness; but pray show me these provisions now, that I may\nsee if there will be enough to entertain my friends: I would have\nthem satisfied with the good fare I make them. --I have, said I, a\nlamb, six capons, a dozen chickens, and enough to make four courses.\nI ordered a slave to bring all before him, with four great pitchers\nof wine. It is very well, said the barber; but we shall want fruit,\nand sauce for the meat. That I ordered likewise; but then he gave\nover shaving, to look over every thing, one after another; and this\nsurvey lasted almost half an hour. I raged and stormed like a\nmadman, but it signified nothing; the wretch made not the more\nhaste. However, he took up his razor again, and shaved me for some\nminutes; then stopping all on a sudden, I could not have believed,\nsir, that you would have been so liberal; I begin to perceive that\nyour deceased father lives again in you. Most certainly, I do not\ndeserve the favours with which you have loaded me; and I assure you\nI shall have them in perpetual remembrance; for, sir, to let you\nknow it, I have nothing but what comes from the generosity of such\ngentleman as you: in which respect, I am like to Zantout, who rubs\nthe people in the baths; to Sali, who cries boiled peas in the\nstreets; to Salout, who sells beans; to Akerscha, who sells greens;\nto Aboumecarez, who sprinkles the streets to lay the dust; and to\nCassem, the caliph\u2019s life-guard man. Of all these persons, not one\nis apt to be melancholy; they are neither impertinent nor\nquarrelsome; they are more contented with their lot than the caliph\nin the midst of his court; they are always gay, ready to sing and\ndance, and have each of them their peculiar song and dance, with\nwhich they divert the city of Bagdad; but what I esteem most in them\nis, that they are no great talkers, no more than your slave, that\nhas now the honour to speak to you. Here, sir, is the song and dance\nof Zantout, who rubs the people in the baths; mind me, pray, and see\nif I do not imitate it exactly.\n\nThe barber sung the song, and danced the dance of Zantout, and let\nme say what I could to oblige him to make an end of his\nbuffooneries, he did not give over till he imitated, in like manner,\nthe songs and dances of the other people he had named. After that,\naddressing himself to me, I am going, said he, to invite all these\nhonest men to my house: if you will take my advice, you will join\nus, and disappoint your friends yonder, who perhaps are great\ntalkers, that will only tease you to death with their impertinent\ndiscourse, and make you relapse into a distemper worse than that you\nare so lately recovered of; whereas at my house you shall have\nnothing but pleasure.\n\nNotwithstanding my anger, I could not forbear laughing at the\nfellow\u2019s impertinence. I wish I had no business upon my hands,\nsaid I; I would accept of the proposal you make me; I would go with\nall my heart to be merry with you: but I beg to be excused; I am too\nmuch engaged this day; another day I shall be more at leisure, and\nthen we shall make up that company. Come, finish shaving me, and\nmake haste home; perhaps your friends are already come to your\nhouse. --Sir, said he, do not refuse me the favour I ask of you;\ncome and be merry with the good company I am to have: if you were\nbut once in our company, you would be so pleased with it, you would\nforsake your friends to come to us. Let us talk no more of that,\nsaid I; I cannot be your guest.\n\nI found I gained no ground by mild terms. Since you will not come to\nmy house, replied the barber, you must allow me to go along with\nyou: I will go and carry these things to my house, where my friends\nmay eat of them, if they like them, and I will return immediately: I\nwould not be so uncivil as to leave you alone. You deserve this\npiece of complaisance at my hands. --Heavens! cried I, then I shall\nnot get clear of this troublesome fellow to-day. In the name of the\nliving God, said I, leave off your unreasonable jargon; go to your\nfriends, drink, eat, and be merry with them, and leave me at liberty\nto go to mine. I have a mind to go alone: I have no occasion for\ncompany: besides, I must needs tell you, the place to which I go is\nnot a place where you can be received; nobody must come there but I.\n--You jest, sir, said he: if your friends have invited you to a\nfeast, what should prevent you from allowing me to accompany you?\nYou will please them, I am sure, by carrying thither a man that can\ntalk comically like me, and knows how to divert company. But say\nwhat you will, I am determined I will go along with you, in spite of\nyou.\n\nThese words, gentlemen, perplexed me much. How shall I get rid of\nthis cursed barber? thought I to myself. If I persist in\ncontradicting him, we shall never have done.\n\nBesides, I heard then the first call to noon prayers, and it was\ntime for me to go. In fine, I resolved to say nothing at all, and to\nmake as if I consented to his accompanying me. He then made an end\nof shaving me, and I said to him, Take some of my servants to carry\nthese provisions along with you, and return hither; I will stay for\nyou and shall not go without you.\n\nAt last he went, and I dressed myself quickly. I heard the last call\nto prayers, and made haste to set out: but the malicious barber, who\nguessed my intention, went with my servants only within sight of the\nhouse, and stood there till he saw them enter his house; having hid\nhimself at the corner of the street, with an intent to observe and\nfollow me. In fine, when I arrived at the cadi\u2019s door, I looked\nback and saw him at the head of the street, which fretted me to the\nlast degree.\n\nThe cadi\u2019s door was half open, and as I went in I saw an old woman\nwaiting for me, who after she had shut the door, conducted me to the\nchamber of the young lady I was in love with; but we had scarce\nbegan our interview, when we heard a noise in the streets. The young\nlady put her head to the window, and saw through the gate, that it\nwas the cadi her father returning already from prayers. At the same\ntime I looked through the window, and saw the barber sitting\nover-against the house, in the same place where I had seen the young\nlady before.\n\nI had then two things to fear, the arrival of the cadi, and the\npresence of the barber. The young lady mitigated my fear of the\nfirst, by assuring me, the cadi came but very seldom to her chamber,\nand as she had foreseen that this misadventure might happen, she had\ncontrived a way to convey me out safe: but the indiscretion of the\naccursed barber made me very uneasy; and you shall hear that this my\nuneasiness was not without ground.\n\nAs soon as the cadi was come in, he caned one of his slaves that had\ndeserved it. This slave made a horrid noise, which was heard in the\nstreets: the barber thought it was I that cried out, and was\nmaltreated. Prepossessed with this thought, he roared out aloud,\nrent his clothes, threw dust upon his head, and called the\nneighbourhood to his assistance. The neighbourhood came, and asked\nwhat assistance he wanted. Alas! cried he, they are assassinating my\nmaster, my dear patron; and without saying any thing more, he ran\nall the way to my house, with the very same cry in his mouth. From\nthence he returned, followed by all my domestics armed with sticks.\nThey knocked with inconceivable fury at the cadi\u2019s door, and the\ncadi sent a slave to see what was the matter; but the slave being\nfrightened, returned to his master, crying, Sir, above ten thousand\nmen are going to break into your house by force.\n\nImmediately the cadi himself ran, opened the door, and asked what\nthey wanted. His venerable presence could not inspire them with\nrespect. They insolently said to him, You cursed cadi, you dog of a\ncadi, what reason have you to assassinate our master? What has he\ndone to you? --Good people, replied the cadi, for what should I\nassassinate your master, whom I do not know, and who has done me no\nharm? My house is open to you; come, see and search. --You\nbastinadoed him, said the barber; I heard his cries not a minute\nago. --But once more, replied the cadi, what harm could your master\ndo to me, to oblige me to abuse him after that rate? Is he in my\nhouse? If he is, how came he in, or who could have introduced him?\n--Ah! wretched cadi, cried the barber, you and your long beard shall\nnever make me believe what you say. I know what I say; your daughter\nis in love with our master, and appointed him a meeting during the\ntime of noon prayer: you without doubt have had notice of it; you\nreturned home, and surprised him, and made your slaves bastinado\nhim: but this your wicked action shall not pass with impunity; the\ncaliph shall be acquainted with it, and he will give true and brief\njustice. Let him come out; deliver him to us immediately; or if you\ndo not, we will go and take him out to your shame. --There is no\noccasion for so many words, replied the cadi, nor to make so great a\nnoise: if what you say is true, go and find him out; I give you free\nliberty. Thereupon the barber and my domestics rushed into the house\nlike furies, and looked for me all about.\n\nAs I heard all that the barber said to the cadi, I sought for a\nplace to hide myself, and could find nothing but a great empty\ntrunk, in which I lay down, and shut it upon me. The barber, after\nhe had searched every where, came into the chamber where I was, and\nopening the trunk, as soon as he saw me, he took it upon his head\nand carried it away. He came down a high staircase into a court,\nwhich he crossed hastily, and got to the street door. While he\ncarried me, the trunk unhappily flew open, and I, not being able to\nendure the shame of being exposed to the view and shouts of the mob\nthat followed us, leaped out into the street with so much haste that\nI hurt my leg so, that I have been lame ever since. I was not\nsensible how bad it was at first, and therefore got up quickly to\nget away from the people, who laughed at me; nay, I threw handfulls\nof gold and silver among them, and whilst they were gathering it up,\nI made my escape by cross streets and alleys. But the cursed barber,\navailing himself of the stratagem that I had made use of to get away\nfrom the mob, followed me close, crying, Stay, sir; why do you run\nso fast? If you knew how much I am afflicted at the ill treatment\nyou received from the cadi, --you, who are so generous, and to whom\nI and my friends are so much obliged! Did I not tell you truly, that\nyou would expose your life by your obstinate refusal to let me go\nwith you? See what has happened to you, by your own fault; and if I\nhad not resolutely followed you, to see whither you went, what would\nhave become of you? Whither do you go, sir? Stay for me.\n\nThus the wretched barber cried aloud in the streets; it was not\nenough for him to have occasioned so great a scandal in the quarter\nwhere the cadi lived, but he would have it known through the whole\ntown. I was in such a rage, that I had a great mind to have staid\nand cut his throat; but considering that that would have perplexed\nme farther, I chose another course; for, perceiving that his calling\nafter me exposed me to vast numbers of people, who crowded to the\ndoors or windows, or stopped in the street to gaze on me, I entered\ninto a khan or inn, [75] the chamberlain of which knew me; and\nfinding him at the gate, whither the noise had brought him, I prayed\nhim, for the sake of heaven, to hinder that madman from coming in\nafter me. He promised to do so, and was as good as his word, but not\nwithout a great deal of trouble, for the obstinate barber would go\nin, in spite of him, and did not retire without calling him a\nthousand names; and after the chamberlain shut the gate, the barber\ncontinued telling all he met what great service he had done me. Thus\nI rid myself of that troublesome fellow. After that, the chamberlain\nprayed me to tell him my adventure, which I did, and then desired\nhim to let me have an apartment until I was cured. But, sir, said\nhe, will it not be more convenient for you to go home? I will not\nreturn thither, said I; for the detestable barber will continue\nplaguing me there, and I shall die of vexation to be continually\nteased with him. Besides, after what has befallen me to-day, I\ncannot think of staying any longer in this town; I must go whither\nmy ill-fortune leads me; and actually, when I was cured, I took all\nthe money I thought necessary for my travels, and gave the rest of\nmy estate among my kindred.\n\nThus, gentlemen, I left Bagdad, and came hither. I had ground to\nhope that I should not meet this pernicious barber in a country so\nfar from my own, and yet I find him amongst you. Be not surprised\nthen at my haste to be gone; you may easily judge how unpleasant to\nme is the sight of a man, who was the occasion of my lameness, and\nof my being reduced to the melancholy necessity of living so far\nfrom my kindred, friends, and country. When he had spoken these\nwords, the lame young man rose up and went out. The master of the\nhouse conducted him to the gate, and told him he was sorry that he\nhad given him, though innocently, so great a subject of\nmortification.\n\nWhen the young man was gone, continued the tailor, we were all\nastonished at the story, and, turning to the barber, told him he was\nvery much to blame, if what we had just heard were true. Gentlemen,\nanswered he, raising up his head, which till then he had held down,\nmy silence during the young man\u2019s discourse is sufficient to\ntestify that he advanced nothing that was not true: but for all that\nhe has said to you, I maintain that I ought to have done what I did;\nI leave you to be judges of it. Did not he throw himself into\ndanger, and could he have come off so well without my assistance? He\nmay think himself happy to get off with the lame leg. Did not I\nexpose myself to greater danger to get him out of a house, where I\nthought he was ill-treated? Has he any reason to complain of me, and\nabuse me so? This is what one gets by serving unthankful people. He\naccuses me of being a prattling fellow, which is a mere slander: of\nseven brothers, I speak least, and have most wit to my share; and to\nconvince you of it, gentlemen, I need only to tell my own story and\ntheirs. Honour me, I beseech you, with your attention.\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of the Barber.\n\n\nIn the reign of the caliph Monstanser Bilah, [76] continued he, a\nprince so famous for his vast liberality towards the poor, ten\nhighwaymen infested the roads about Bagdad, and for a long time\ncommitted unheard-of robberies and cruelties. The caliph, having\nnotice of this, sent for the judge of the police, some days before\nthe feast of Bairam, and ordered him, on pain of death, to bring all\nthe ten to him.\n\nThe judge of the police used so much diligence, and sent so many\npeople in pursuit of the ten robbers, that they were taken on the\nvery day of Bairam. I was walking then on the banks of the Tigris,\nand saw ten men richly apparelled go into a boat. I might have known\nthey were robbers, had I observed the guards that were with them;\nbut I looked only to them, and thinking they were people that had a\nmind to spend the festival-day in jollity, I entered the boat with\nthem, without saying one word, in hopes they would allow me to be\none of the company. We went down the Tigris, and landed before the\ncaliph\u2019s palace: I had time then to consider with myself, and to\nfind my mistake. When we came out of the boat, we were surrounded by\na new troop of the judge of the police\u2019s guard, who bound us all,\nand carried us before the caliph. I suffered myself to be bound as\nwell as the rest, without speaking one word: for to what purpose\nshould I have spoken, or made any resistance? That had been the way\nto have got myself ill-treated by the guards, who would not have\nlistened to me; for they are brutish fellows, who will hear no\nreason: I was with the robbers, and that was enough to make them\nbelieve me to be one of them.\n\nWhen we came before the caliph, he ordered the ten highwaymen\u2019s\nheads to be cut off immediately. The executioner drew us up in a\nfile within reach of his arm, and by good fortune I was the last. He\ncut off the heads of the ten highwaymen, beginning at the first; and\nwhen he came to me, he stopt. The caliph perceiving that he did not\nstrike me, grew angry: Did not I command thee, said he, to cut off\nthe heads of ten highwaymen, and why hast thou cut off but nine?\n--Commander of the faithful, said he, Heaven preserve me from\ndisobeying your majesty\u2019s orders: here are ten corpses upon the\nground, and as many heads which I cut off; your majesty may count\nthem. When the caliph saw that what the executioner said was true,\nhe looked upon me with amazement, and perceiving that I had not the\nface of a highwayman, said to me, Good old man, how came you to be\namong those wretches, who have deserved a thousand deaths? I\nanswered, Commander of the faithful, I shall make a true confession.\nThis morning I saw those ten persons, whose punishment is a proof of\nyour majesty\u2019s justice, take boat: I embarked with them, thinking\nthey were men going to celebrate this day, which is the most\ndistinguished in our religion.\n\nThe caliph could not forbear laughing at my adventure; and instead\nof treating me as a prattling fellow, as this lame young man did, he\nadmired my discretion and steady silence. Commander of the faithful,\nsaid I, your majesty need not wonder at my keeping silence on such\nan occasion as would have made another apt to speak: I make it a\nparticular profession of holding my peace, and upon that account I\nhave acquired the glorious title of Silent; by which I am\ndistinguished from my six brothers. This is the effect of my\nphilosophy; and, in a word, in this virtue consists my glory and\nhappiness. I am very glad, said the caliph, smiling, that they gave\nyou a title that you know how to make such good use of. But tell me,\nwhat sort of men were your brothers: were they like you? By no\nmeans, said I; they were all of them more given to prating one than\nanother. And as to their persons, there was still a greater\ndifference betwixt them and me. The first was hump-backed; the\nsecond had rotten teeth; the third had but one eye; the fourth was\nblind; the fifth had his ears cut off, and the sixth had hare-lips.\nThey have met with such adventures as would enable you to judge of\ntheir characters, had I the honour to tell them to your majesty; and\nsince the caliph seemed desirous to hear their several stories, I\nwent on without waiting his commands.\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of the Barber\u2019s eldest Brother.\n\n\nSir, said I, my eldest brother whose name was Bacbouc the Hump-back,\nwas a tailor by trade: when he came out of his apprenticeship, he\nhired a shop over against a mill, and having but very little\nbusiness, he could scarcely maintain himself. The miller, on the\ncontrary, was very wealthy, and had a very handsome wife. One day,\nas my brother was at work in his shop, he lifted up his head and saw\nthe miller\u2019s wife looking out of the window, and was charmed with\nher beauty. The woman took no notice of him, but shut her window,\nand came no more to it all that day. The poor tailor did nothing but\nlift up his eyes towards the mill all day long. He pricked his\nfinger oftener than once, and his work that day was not very\nregular. At night, when he was to shut his shop, he could scarce\ntell how to do it, because he still hoped the miller\u2019s wife would\ncome to the window once more; but at last he was forced to shut up,\nand go home to his little house, where he passed but a very\nuncomfortable night. He got up betimes in the morning, and ran to\nhis shop, in hopes to see his mistress again; but he was no happier\nthan the day before, for the miller\u2019s wife did not appear at the\nwindow above a minute in the whole day, but that minute made the\ntailor the most amorous man that ever lived. The third day he had\nsome more ground of satisfaction, for the miller\u2019s wife cast her\neyes upon him by chance, and surprised him as he was gazing at her,\nwhich convinced her what passed in his mind.\n\nNo sooner did the miller\u2019s wife perceive my brother\u2019s\ninclination, than instead of being vexed at it, she resolved to\ndivert herself with it. She looked upon him with a smiling\ncountenance, and my brother looked upon her in the same manner, but\nafter such an odd sort, that the miller\u2019s wife presently shut her\nwindow, lest her loud laughter should have made him sensible that\nshe only ridiculed him. Poor Bacbouc interpreted her carriage to his\nown advantage, and flattered himself that she looked upon him with\npleasure.\n\nThe miller\u2019s wife resolved to make sport with my brother: she had\na piece of very fine stuff, with which she had a long time designed\nto make her a suit; she wrapt it up in a fine embroidered silk\nhandkerchief, and sent it him by a young slave whom she kept; who\nbeing taught her lesson, comes to the tailor\u2019s shop, and tells\nhim, My mistress gives you her service, and prays you to make her a\nsuit of this stuff according to this pattern; she changes her\nclothes often, so that her custom will be profitable to you. My\nbrother doubted not that the miller\u2019s wife loved him, and thought\nthat she sent him work so soon after what had passed betwixt them,\nonly to signify that she knew his mind, and to convince him that he\nhad obtained her favour. My brother being of this opinion, charged\nthe slave to tell her mistress, that he would lay aside all work for\nher\u2019s, and that the suit should be ready next morning. He worked\nat it with so much diligence, that he finished it the same day. Next\nmorning, the young slave came to see if the suit was ready. Bacbouc\ngave it to her neatly folded up, telling her, I am too much\nconcerned to please your mistress to neglect her suit; I would\nengage her by my diligence to employ no other but myself for the\ntime to come. The young slave went some steps as if she had intended\nto go away, and then coming back, whispered to my brother, I had\nforgot part of my commission; my mistress charged me to make her\ncompliments to you, and to ask, how you passed the night; as for\nher, poor woman, she loves you so, that she could not sleep. --Tell\nher, answered my silly brother, I have so strong a passion for her,\nthat for these four nights I have not slept one wink. --After such a\ncompliment from the miller\u2019s wife, my brother thought she would\nnot let him languish long in the expectation of her favours.\n\nAbout a quarter of an hour after, the slave returned to my brother\nwith a piece of satin: My mistress, said she, is very well pleased\nwith her suit; nothing in the world can fit her better; and as it\nwas very handsome, she would not wear it without a new petticoat;\nshe prays you to make her one, as soon as you can, of this piece of\nsatin. --Enough, said Bacbouc; I will do it before I leave my shop;\nyou shall have it in the evening. The miller\u2019s wife showed herself\noften at her window, and was very prodigal of her charms, to\nencourage my brother. You would have laughed to have seen him work.\nThe petticoat was soon made, and the slave came for it, but brought\nthe tailor no money, neither for the trimming he had bought for the\nsuit, nor for the making. In the mean time, this unfortunate lover,\nwhom they only amused, though he could not see it, had eat nothing\nall that day, and was forced to borrow money at night to buy his\nsupper. Next morning, as soon as he arrived at his shop, the young\nslave came to tell him, that the miller wanted to speak to him. My\nmistress, said she, has told him so much in your praise, when she\nshowed him your work, that he has a mind you should work also for\nhim; she does it on purpose, that the connexion she wished to form\nbetwixt you and him may crown your mutual wishes with success. My\nbrother was easily persuaded, and went to the mill with the slave.\nThe miller received him very kindly, and showed him a piece of\ncloth, told him he wanted shirts, bid him make it into twenty, and\ngive him again what was left.\n\nMy brother had work enough for five or six days to make twenty\nshirts for the miller, who afterwards gave him another piece of\ncloth to make him as many pair of drawers. When they were finished,\nBacbouc carried them to the miller, who asked him what he must have\nfor his pains. My brother answered, he would be content with twenty\ndrachms of silver. The miller immediately called the young slave,\nand bid her bring him his weights, to see if his money was right.\nThe slave, who had her lesson, looked at my brother with an angry\ncountenance, to signify to him that he would spoil all if he took\nany money. He knew her meaning, and refused to take any, though he\nwanted it so much, that he was forced to borrow money to buy the\nthread that sewed the shirts and drawers. When he left the miller,\nhe came to me to borrow money to live on, and told me they did not\npay him. I gave him some copper money I had in my purse, and upon\nthat he subsisted for some days: it is true, indeed, he lived upon\nnothing but broth, nor had he his fill of that.\n\nOne day he went to the miller, who was busy at his work, and\nthinking my brother came for money, he offered him some; but the\nyoung slave being present, made him another sign not to take it,\nwhich he complied with, and told the miller he did not come for his\nmoney, but only to know how he did. The miller thanked him, and gave\nhim an upper garment to make. Bacbouc carried it him next day. When\nthe miller drew out his purse, the young slave gave my brother the\nusual sign; on which he said to the miller, Neighbour, there is no\nhaste; we will reckon another time: so that the poor ninny went to\nhis shop again, with three terrible distempers upon him, love,\nhunger, and want of money. The miller\u2019s wife was not only\navaricious, but ill-natured; for, not content to cheat my brother of\nhis due, she provoked her husband to revenge himself upon him for\nmaking love to her, which they accomplished thus. The miller invited\nBacbouc one night to supper, and after giving him a very sorry\ntreat, said to him, Brother, it is too late for you to go home; you\nhad better stay here all night; and then he carried him to a place\nin the mill, where there was a bed: there he left him, and went to\nbed with his wife. About the middle of the night, the miller went to\nmy brother, and said, Neighbour, are you asleep? My mule is ill, and\nI have a quantity of corn to grind; you will do me a great kindness\nif you will turn the mill in her stead. Bacbouc, to shew his\ngood-nature, told him he was ready to do him that piece of service,\nif he would show him how. Then the miller tied him by the middle to\nthe mule\u2019s place, and whipping him soundly over the back, said to\nhim, Go, neighbour. --Ho! said my brother, why do you beat me? --It\nis to make you brisk, said the miller; for without a whip my mule\nwill not go. Bacbouc was amazed at this sort of treatment, but durst\nnot complain. When he had gone five or six rounds, he would fain\nhave rested; but the miller gave him a dozen sound lashes, saying,\nCourage, neighbour! do not stop, pray; you must go on without taking\nbreath, otherwise you will spoil my meal.\n\nThe miller obliged my brother to turn the mill thus all night. About\nbreak of day he left him without untying him, and went to his\nwife\u2019s chamber. Bacbouc continued there for some time, and at last\nthe young slave came and untied him. Ah! said the treacherous\nwretch, how my mistress and I pitied you! We had no hand in this\nwicked trick which her husband has played you. The wretched Bacbouc\nanswered her not a word, he was so much fatigued with work and\nblows; but crept home to his house, resolving never to think more of\nthe miller\u2019s wife.\n\nThe telling of this story, said the barber, made the caliph laugh.\nGo home, said he to me; I have ordered something to be given you to\nmake up for the loss of the good dinner you expected. --Commander of\nthe faithful, said I, I pray your majesty to let me stay till I have\ntold the story of my other brothers. The caliph having signified by\nhis silence that he was willing to hear me, I went on thus:\n\n[Illustration: BAKBARAH IN THE LADY\u2019S APARTMENT.]\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of the Barber\u2019s second Brother.\n\n\nMy second brother, who was called Backbarah the toothless, going one\nday through the city, met an old woman in a distant street: she came\nup to him, and said, I want one word with you; pray stop a moment.\nHe did so, and asked her what she would have. If you have time to\ncome along with me, said she, I will bring you into a stately\npalace, where you shall see a lady as fair as the day. She will\nreceive you with much pleasure, and give you a treat with excellent\nwine. I need say no more to you. --But is what you say true? replied\nmy brother. --I am no lying hussy, replied the old woman: I say\nnothing to you but what is true. But hark, I have something to ask\nof you. You must be prudent, say but little, and be extremely\npolite. Backbarah agreed to all this. The old woman went before, and\nhe followed after. They came to the gate of a great palace, where\nthere was abundance of officers and domestics. Some of them would\nhave stopt my brother, but no sooner did the old woman speak to\nthem, than they let him pass. Then turning to my brother, she said\nto him, You must remember that the young lady I bring you to loves\ngood-nature and modesty, and cannot endure to be contradicted; if\nyou please her in that, you may be sure to obtain of her what you\nplease. Backbarah thanked her for this advice, and promised to\nfollow it.\n\nShe brought him into a fine apartment of a great square building,\nanswerable to the magnificence of the palace. There was a gallery\nround it, and a very fine garden in the middle. The old woman made\nhim sit down upon a handsome sofa, and bid him stay a moment, till\nshe went to tell the young lady of his being come.\n\nMy brother, who had never been in such a stately palace before,\ngazed upon the fine things that he saw; and judging of his good\nfortune by the magnificence of the palace, he was scarcely able to\ncontain himself for joy. By and by he heard a great noise,\noccasioned by a troop of merry slaves, who came towards him with\nloud fits of laughter, and in the middle of them, he perceived a\nyoung lady of extraordinary beauty, who was easily known to be their\nmistress by the respect they paid her. Backbarah, who expected\nprivate conversation with the lady, was extremely surprised when he\nsaw so much company with her. In the mean time the slaves put on a\ngrave countenance when they drew near; and when the young lady came\nup to the sofa, my brother rose up and made her a low bow. She took\nthe upper hand, prayed him to sit down, and said to him with a\nsmiling countenance, I am mightily glad to see you, and wish you all\nthe happiness you can desire. --Madam, replied Backbarah, I cannot\ndesire a greater happiness than to be in your company. --You seem to\nbe of a pleasant humour, said she, and to be disposed to pass the\ntime pleasantly.\n\nShe forthwith commanded a collation to be brought; and immediately a\ntable was covered with several baskets of fruits and sweetmeats. The\nlady sat down at the table with the slaves and my brother; and he\nbeing placed just over-against her, when he opened his mouth to eat,\nshe perceived he had no teeth; and taking notice of it to her\nslaves, she and they laughed at him heartily. Backbarah from time to\ntime lifted up his head to look at her, and perceiving her laugh,\nthought it was for joy of his company, and flattered himself that\nshe would speedily send away her slaves, and be with him alone. She\nguessed his thoughts, and pleasing herself to flatter him in his\nmistake, she gave him abundance of pleasant language, and presented\nhim the best of every thing with her own hand. The treat being\nended, they rose from the table; ten slaves took musical\ninstruments, and began to play and sing, and others to dance. My\nbrother, to please them, danced likewise, and the lady danced with\nthem. After they had danced some time, they sat down to take breath,\nand the young lady, calling for a glass of wine, looked upon my\nbrother with a smiling countenance, to signify that she was going to\ndrink his health. He rose up, and stood while she drank. When she\nhad done, instead of giving back the glass, she ordered it to be\nfilled, and presented it to my brother, that he might pledge her.\n\nMy brother took the glass from the young lady\u2019s hand, which he\nkissed at the same time, and stood and drank to her, in return for\nthe favour she had done him. Then the young lady made him sit down\nby her, and began to caress him. She put her hand behind his head,\nand gave him some tips from time to time with her fingers. Ravished\nwith those favours, he thought himself the happiest man in the\nworld, and had a great mind to toy also with the charming lady, but\ndurst not take the liberty before so many slaves, who had their eyes\nupon him, and laughed at their lady\u2019s wanton tricks. The young\nlady continued to tip him with her fingers, but at last gave him\nsuch a sound box on the ear, that he grew angry at it; the colour\ncame in his face, and he rose up to sit at a greater distance from\nsuch a rude play-fellow. Then the old woman who brought him thither\ngave him a look, to let him know that he was in the wrong, and that\nhe had forgot the advice she gave him to be very complaisant. He\nowned his fault, and, in order to make amends, he went near the\nyoung lady again, and pretended that he did not go away out of any\nill-humour. She drew him by the arm, made him sit down by her again,\nand gave him a thousand malicious squeezes. Her slaves took their\npart in the diversion: one gave poor Backbarah several fillips on\nthe nose with all her might; another pulled him by the ears, as if\nshe would have pulled them off; and others boxed him so, as might\nshow they were not in jest. My brother bore all this with admirable\npatience, affecting a gay air, and looking at the old woman, said to\nher with a forced smile, You told me, indeed, that I should find the\nlady perfectly kind, pleasant, and charming; I am mightily obliged\nto you! --All this is nothing, replied the old woman: let her go on;\nyou will see other things by and by. Then the young lady said to\nhim, Brother, you are a brave man; I am glad to find you are so good\nhumoured and complaisant to bear with my little caprices, and that\nyour humour is so conformable to mine. --Madam, replied Backbarah,\nwho was charmed with this discourse, I am no more myself, I am\nwholly yours; you may dispose of me as you please. --How you oblige\nme, said the lady, by such submission! I am very well pleased with\nyou, and would have you be so with me. Bring him perfume, said she,\nand rose water. Upon this, two slaves went out, and returned\nspeedily; one with a silver casket, filled with the best of\naloes-wood, with which she perfumed him; and the other with\nrose-water, which she sprinkled on his face and hands. My brother\nwas quite beside himself at this handsome treatment. After this\nceremony, the young lady commanded the slaves, who had already\nplayed on their instruments and sung, to renew their concerts. They\nobeyed, and in the mean time the lady called another slave, and\nordered her to carry my brother with her, and do what she knew, and\nbring him back to her again. Backbarah, who heard this order, got up\nquickly, and going to the old woman, who also rose up to go along\nwith him and the slave, prayed her to tell him what they were to do\nwith him. My mistress is only curious, replied the old woman,\nsoftly; she has a mind to see how you look in a woman\u2019s dress; and\nthis slave, who has orders to carry you with her, has orders to\npaint your eyebrows, to cut off your whiskers, and to dress you like\na woman. --You may paint my eyebrows as much as you please, said my\nbrother; I agree to that, because I can wash it off again; but to\nshave me, you know I must not allow. How can I appear abroad again\nwithout mustachios? --Beware of refusing what is asked of you, said\nthe old woman: you will spoil your fortune, which is now in as\nfavourable a train as heart can wish. The lady loves you, and has a\nmind to make you happy; and will you, for a nasty whisker, renounce\nthe most delicious favours that man can obtain? --Backbarah listened\nto the old woman, and without saying a word, went to a chamber with\nthe slave, where they painted his eyebrows with red, cut off his\nwhiskers, and were going to do the like with his beard. My\nbrother\u2019s patience then began to fail: Oh! said he, I will never\npart with my beard. The slave told him that it was to no purpose to\nhave parted with his whiskers, if he would not also part with his\nbeard, which could never agree with a woman\u2019s dress; and she\nwondered that a man, who was upon the point to enjoy the finest lady\nin Bagdad, should be concerned about his beard. The old woman\nthreatened him with the loss of the young lady\u2019s favour; so that\nat last he let them do what they would. When he was dressed like a\nwoman, they brought him before the young lady, who laughed so\nheartily when she saw him, that she fell backward on the sofa where\nshe sat. The slaves laughed and clapped their hands, so that my\nbrother was quite out of countenance. The young lady got up, and\nstill laughing, said to him, After so much complaisance for me, I\nshould be very much to blame not to love you with all my heart: but\nthere is one thing more you must do for me, and that is, to dance as\nwe do. He obeyed, and the young lady and her slaves danced with him,\nlaughing as if they had been mad. After they had danced some time\nwith him, they all fell upon the poor wretch, and did so box and\nkick him, that he fell down like one out of his senses. The old\nwoman helped him up again; and that he might not have time to think\nof his ill treatment, she bid him take courage, and whispered in his\near, that all his sufferings were at an end, and that he was just\nabout to receive his reward.\n\nYou have only one thing more to do, and that is but a small one. You\nmust know that my mistress has a custom, when she has drank a\nlittle, as you see she has done to-day, to let nobody that she loves\ncome near her, except they be stripped to their shirt; and when they\nhave done so, she takes a little advantage of them, and begins\nrunning before them through the gallery, and from chamber to\nchamber, till they catch her. This is one more of her humours. What\nadvantage soever she takes of you, considering your nimbleness and\ninclination, you will soon overtake her: strip yourself then to your\nshirt; undress yourself without ceremony.\n\nMy silly brother, said the barber, had done too much to hesitate at\nany thing now. He undressed himself; and in the mean time the young\nlady was stripped to her shift and under-petticoat, that she might\nrun the more nimbly. When they were ready to run, the young lady\ntook the advantage of twenty paces, and then fell to running with\nsurprising swiftness: my brother followed her as fast as he could,\nthe slaves in the mean time laughing heartily, and clapping their\nhands. The young lady, instead of losing ground, gained upon my\nbrother; she made him run two or three times round the gallery, and\nthen running into a long dark entry, got away by a passage which she\nknew. Backbarah, who still followed her, having lost sight of her in\nthe entry, was obliged to slacken his pace, because of the darkness\nof the place: at last perceiving a light he ran towards it, and went\nout at a door, which was immediately shut upon him. You may imagine\nhow he was surprised to find himself in a street inhabited by\ncurriers; and they were no less surprised to see him in his shirt,\nhis eyes painted red, and without beard or mustachios. They began to\nclap their hands and shouted at him, and some of them ran after him\nand lashed his buttocks with leather straps. They then took him and\nset him upon an ass which they met by chance, and carried him\nthrough the town, exposed to the laughter of the people.\n\nTo complete his misfortune, as he went by the judge\u2019s house, he\nwould needs know the cause of the tumult. The curriers told him,\nthat they saw him come in that condition out at the gate of the\napartment of the grand vizier\u2019s women, which opened into the\nstreet; upon which the judge ordered unfortunate Backbarah to have a\nhundred blows with a cane on the soles of his feet, and sent him out\nof the town, with orders never to return again.\n\nThus, commander of the faithful, said I to the caliph Monstanser\nBillah, I have given an account of the adventure of my second\nbrother, who did not know that our greatest ladies divert themselves\nsometimes by putting such tricks upon young people, who are so\nfoolish as to be caught in the snare.\n\nThe barber, without leaving off, told the story of his third brother\nin the following manner.\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of the Barber\u2019s third Brother.\n\n\nCommander of the faithful, said he to the caliph, my third brother,\nwhose name was Backbac, was blind, and his evil destiny reduced him\nto beg from door to door. He had been so long accustomed to walk\nthrough the streets alone, that he wanted none to lead him. He had a\ncustom to knock at people\u2019s doors, and not to answer till they\nopened to him. One day he knocked thus at a door, and the master of\nthe house, who was alone, cried, Who is there? My brother gave no\nanswer, and knocked a second time. The master of the house asked\nagain and again, Who is there? but to no purpose: nobody answered.\nUpon which he came down, opened the door, and asked my brother what\nhe wanted. Give me something for Heaven\u2019s sake, said Backbac.\n--You seem to be blind, replied the master of the house. Yes, to my\nsorrow, said my brother. Give me your band, said the master of the\nhouse. My brother did so, thinking he was going to give him alms;\nbut he only took him by the hand to lead him up to his chamber.\nBackbac thought he had been carrying him to dine with him, as many\nother people had done. When they came up to the chamber, the man let\ngo his hand, and sitting down, asked him again what he wanted. I\nhave already told you, said Backbac, that I want something for\nGod\u2019s sake. --Good blind man, replied the master of the house, all\nthat I can do for you is to wish that God may restore you your\nsight. --You might have told me that at the door, said my brother,\nand not have given me the trouble to have come up stairs. --And why,\nfool, said the man of the house, do not you answer at first, when\npeople ask you who is there? Why do you give any body the trouble to\ncome and open the door when they speak to you? --What will you do\nwith me then? said my brother. --I tell you again, said the man of\nthe house, I have nothing to give you. --Help me down the stairs\nthen, replied Backbac, as you helped me up. --The stairs are before\nyou, said the man of the house, and you may go down by yourself if\nyou will. My brother attempted to go down, but missing a step about\nthe middle of the stairs, he fell to the bottom, and hurt his head\nand his back: he got up again with a great deal of difficulty, and\nwent out cursing the master of the house, who laughed at his fall.\n\nAs my brother went out of the house, two blind men, his companions,\nwere going by, knew him by his voice, and asked him what was the\nmatter. He told them what had happened to him, and afterwards said,\nI have eat nothing to day: I conjure you to go along with me to my\nhouse, that I may take some of the money that we three have in\ncommon to buy me something for supper. The two blind men agreed to\nit, and they went home with him.\n\nYou must know that the master of the house where my brother was so\nill used was a highwayman, and of a cunning and malicious\ndisposition. He heard at his window what Backbac had said to his\ncompanions, and therefore came down and followed them to my\nbrother\u2019s house. The blind men being sat down, Backbac said to\nthem, Brothers, we must shut the door, and take care there be no\nstranger with us. At this the highwayman was much perplexed; but\nperceiving by chance a rope hanging down from a beam, he caught hold\nof it, and hung by it, while the blind men shut the door, and felt\nabout the room with their sticks. When they had done this, and sat\ndown again in their places, the highwayman left his rope, and sat\ndown softly by my brother; who thinking himself alone with his blind\ncomrades, said to them, Brothers, since you have trusted me with the\nmoney which we all three have been gathering a long time, I will\nshow you that I am not unworthy of the trust that you repose in me.\nThe last time we reckoned, you know we had ten thousand drachms, and\nthat we put them into ten bags; I will show you that I have not\ntouched one of them; and having said so, he put his hand among some\nold clothes, and taking out the bags one after another, gave them to\nhis comrades, saying, There they are; you may judge by their weight\nthat they are whole, or you may tell them if you please. His\ncomrades answered there was no need, they did not mistrust him; so\nhe opened one of the bags, and took out ten drachms, and each of the\nother blind men did the like.\n\nMy brother put the bags into their place again: after which, one of\nthe blind men said to him, There is no need to lay out any thing for\nsupper, for I have got as much victuals from good people as will\nserve us all three. At the same time he took out of his bag bread\nand cheese, and some fruit, and, putting all upon the table, they\nbegan to eat. --The highwayman, who sat at my brother\u2019s right\nhand, picked out the best, and eat with them; but, whatever care he\ntook to make no noise, Backbac heard his chaps going, and cried out\nimmediately, We are undone; there is a stranger among us: and having\nsaid so, he stretched out his hand, and caught hold of the\nhighwayman by the arm, cried out, Thieves, fell upon him, and boxed\nhim. The other blind men fell upon him in like manner, and the\nhighwayman defended himself as well as he could; and being young and\nvigorous, and having the advantage of his eyes, he gave furious\nblows, sometimes to one, sometimes to another, as he could come at\nthem, and cried out, Thieves, louder than they did. The neighbours\ncame running at the noise, broke open the door, and had much ado to\nseparate the combatants; but having at last succeeded, they asked\nthe cause of their quarrel. My brother, who still had hold of the\nhighwayman, cried out. Gentlemen, this man I have hold on is a\nthief, and stole in with us on purpose to rob us of the little money\nwe have. The thief, who shut his eyes as soon as the neighbours\ncame, feigned himself blind, and cried out, Gentlemen, he is a liar.\nI swear to you by Heaven, and by the life of the caliph, that I am\ntheir companion, and they refuse to give me my just share. They have\nall three fallen upon me, and I demand justice. The neighbours would\nnot interfere in their quarrel, but carried them all before the\njudge.\n\nWhen they came before the magistrate, the highwayman, without\nstaying to be examined, cried out, still feigning himself blind,\nSir, since you are deputed to administer justice by the caliph, whom\nGod prosper, I declare to you that we are equally criminal, my three\ncomrades and I; but we have all engaged, upon oath, to confess\nnothing except we be bastinadoed; so that if you would know our\ncrime, you need only order us to be bastinadoed, and begin with me.\nMy brother would have spoken, but was not allowed to do so; and the\nhighwayman was put under the bastinado.\n\nThe robber being under the bastinado, had the courage to bear twenty\nor thirty blows; when, pretending to be overcome with pain, he first\nopened one eye, and then the other, and crying out for mercy, begged\nthe judge would put a stop to the blows. --The judge perceiving that\nhe looked upon him with his eyes open, was much surprised at it, and\nsaid to him, Rogue, what is the meaning of this miracle? Sir,\nreplied the highwayman, I will discover to you an important secret,\nif you pardon me, and give me, as a pledge that you will keep your\nword, the seal-ring which you have on your finger: I am ready to\ndeclare the whole mystery. The judge consented, gave him his ring,\nand promised him pardon. Under this promise, said the highwayman, I\nmust confess to you, sir, that I and my three comrades do all of us\nsee very well. We feigned ourselves to be blind, that we might\nfreely enter people\u2019s houses, and into women\u2019s apartments, where\nwe abuse their weakness. I must further confess to you, that by this\ntrick we have gained together ten thousand drachms. This day I\ndemanded of my partners two thousand five hundred that belonged to\nme as my share; but they refused because I told them I would leave\nthem, and they were afraid I should accuse them. Upon my pressing\nstill to have my share, they all three fell upon me; for which I\nappeal to those people who brought us before you. I expect from your\njustice, sir, that you will make them deliver me the two thousand\nfive hundred drachms which is my due; and if you have a mind that my\ncomrades should confess the truth, you must order them three times\nas many blows as I have had, and you will find they will open their\neyes as well as I did.\n\nMy brother and the other two blind men would have cleared themselves\nof this horrid cheat, but the judge would not hear them: Villains,\nsaid he, do you feign yourselves blind then, and, under that pretext\nof moving their compassion, cheat people, and commit such crimes? He\nis a cheat, cried my brother, and we take God to witness that none\nof us can see.\n\nAll that my brother could say was in vain, his comrades and he\nreceived each of them two hundred blows. The judge looked when they\nshould have opened their eyes and ascribed to their obstinacy what\nreally they could not do. All the while, the highwayman said to the\nblind men, Poor fools that you are, open your eyes, and do not\nsuffer yourselves to be beat to death. Then addressing himself to\nthe judge, said, I perceive, sir, that they will be maliciously\nobstinate to the last, and will never open their eyes. They have a\nmind certainly to avoid the shame of reading their own condemnation\nin the face of every one that looks upon them; it were better, if\nyou think fit, to pardon them, and to send some person along with me\nfor the ten thousand drachms they have hid.\n\nThe judge did so, gave the highwayman two thousand five hundred\ndrachms, and kept the rest himself; and as for my brother and his\ntwo companions, he thought he showed them a great deal of pity by\nsentencing them only to be banished. As soon as I heard what befell\nmy brother, I ran after him; he told me his misfortune, and I\nbrought him back secretly to the town. I could easily have justified\nhim to the judge, and have got the highwayman punished as he\ndeserved, but durst not attempt it, for fear of bringing myself into\ntrouble. Thus I finished the sad adventure of my honest blind\nbrother. The caliph laughed at it as much as at those he had heard\nbefore, and ordered again, that something should be given me; but\nwithout staying for it, I began the story of my fourth brother.\n\n\n\n\nThe story of the Barber\u2019s fourth Brother.\n\n\nAlcouz was the name of the fourth brother, who lost one of his eyes\nupon an occasion that I shall have the honour to relate to your\nmajesty. He was a butcher by profession, and had a particular way of\nteaching rams to fight, by which he gained the acquaintance and\nfriendship of the chief lords of the country, who loved that sport,\nand for that end kept rams at their houses; he had, beside, a very\ngood trade, and had his shop always full of the best meat, because\nhe was very rich, and spared no cost for the best of every sort. One\nday, when he was in his shop, an old man, with a long white beard,\ncame and bought six pounds of meat of him, gave him money for it,\nand went his way. My brother thought the money so fine, so white,\nand so well coined, that he put it apart by itself. The same old man\ncame every day for five months together, bought a like quantity of\nmeat, and paid for it in the same sort of money, which my brother\ncontinued to lay apart by itself.\n\nAt the end of five months, Alcouz having a mind to buy a parcel of\nsheep, and to pay for them in this fine money, opened his chest; but\ninstead of finding his money, was extremely surprised to see nothing\nin the place where he had laid it but a parcel of leaves clipped\nround: he beat his head and cried out aloud, which presently brought\nthe neighbours about him, who were as much surprised as he, when he\ntold them the story. Oh! cried my brother, weeping, that this\ntreacherous old fellow would come now with his hypocritical looks!\nHe had scarce done speaking when he saw him coming at a distance,\nran to him, and laid hands on him: Mussulmen! cried he, as load as\nhe could, help! hear what a cheat this wicked fellow has put upon\nme, and, at the some time, told a great crowd of people who came\nabout him, what he had formerly told his neighbours. When he had\ndone, the old man said to him very gravely and calmly, You had\nbetter let me go, and by that means make amends for the affront you\nhave put upon me before so many people, for fear I should put a\ngreater affront upon you, which I should be sorry to do. How, said\nmy brother, what have you to say against me? I am an honest man in\nmy business, and fear not you, nor any body. You would have me speak\nout then, said the old man, in the same tone; and turning to the\npeople, said to them, Know, good people, that this fellow, instead\nof selling mutton, as he ought to do, sells man\u2019s flesh. You are a\ncheat, said my brother. No, no, said the old man; good people, this\nvery minute that I am speaking to him, there is a man with his\nthroat cut hung up in the shop like a sheep; do any of you go\nthither, and see if what I say be not true.\n\nJust before my brother had opened his chest he had killed a sheep,\ndressed it, and exposed it in the shop, according to custom. He\nprotested that what the old man said was false; but notwithstanding\nall his protestations, the credulous mob, prejudiced against a man\naccused of such a heinous crime, would go to see whether the matter\nwas true. They obliged my brother to quit the old man, laid hold of\nhim, and ran like madmen into his shop, where they saw a man hung up\nwith his throat cut, as the old man had told them; for he was a\nmagician and deceived the eyes of all people, as he did my brother,\nwhen he made him take leaves instead of money. At this sight, one of\nthose who held Alcouz, gave him a great blow with his fist, and said\nto him, Thou wicked villain! Dost thou make us eat men\u2019s flesh\ninstead of mutton? And at the same time, the old man gave him\nanother blow, which beat out one of his eyes, and every body that\ncould get near him beat him; and not content with that, they carried\nhim before a judge, with the pretended carcass of the man to be\nevidence against him. Sir, said the old magician to the judge, we\nhave brought you a man, who is so barbarous as to murder people, and\nto sell their flesh instead of mutton; the public expects that you\nshall punish him in an exemplary manner. The judge heard my brother\nwith patience, but would believe nothing of the story of the money\nchanged into leaves, called my brother a cheat, told him he would\nbelieve his own eyes, and ordered him to receive five hundred blows.\nHe afterwards made him tell where his money was, took it all from\nhim, and banished him for ever, after having made him ride three\ndays through the city upon a camel, exposed to the insults of the\npeople.\n\nI was not at Bagdad when this tragical adventure befell my fourth\nbrother. He retired into a remote place, where he lay concealed till\nhe was cured of the blows with which his back was terribly mauled.\nWhen he was able to walk, he went by night to a certain town where\nnobody knew him; and there he took a lodging, from whence he seldom\nwent out. But being weary of this confined life, he went to walk in\none of the suburbs, where all of a sudden he heard a great noise of\nhorsemen coming behind him. He was then by chance near the gate of a\ngreat house; and fearing, after what had befallen him, that these\nhorsemen were pursuing him, he opened the gate, in order to hide\nhimself; and after he shut it, came into a great court, where\nimmediately two servants came, and collaring him, said, Heaven be\npraised, that you have come of your own accord to surrender yourself\nto us! You have frightened us so much these three last nights, that\nwe could not sleep nor would you have spared our lives, if we had\nnot prevented you. You may very well imagine my brother was much\nsurprised at this compliment. Good people, said he, I know not what\nyou mean; you certainly take me for some body else. No, no, replied\nthey: we know that you and your comrades are great robbers: you were\nnot contented to rob our master of all that he had, and to reduce\nhim to beggary, but you had a mind to take his life. Let us see a\nlittle if you have not a knife about you, which you had in your hand\nwhen you pursued us last night; and having said this, they searched\nhim, and found he had a knife. Ho! ho! cried they, laying hold of\nhim, and dare you say that you are not a robber? Why, said my\nbrother, cannot a man carry a knife about him without being a\nhighwayman? If you will hearken to my story, continued he, instead\nof having so bad an opinion of me, you will be touched with\ncompassion at my misfortunes. But far from hearkening to him, they\nfell upon him, trod upon him, took away his clothes, and tore his\nshirt. Then seeing the scars on his back, O dog! said they,\nredoubling their blows, would you have us believe you are an honest\nman when your back shows us the contrary? --Alas! said my brother,\nmy crimes must be very great, since after having been abused already\nso unjustly, I am abused again a second time without being more\nculpable!\n\nThe two servants, no way moved with this complaint, carried him\nbefore the judge, who asked him, how he durst be so bold as to go\ninto their house, and pursue them with a drawn knife? Sir, replied\npoor Alcouz, I am the most innocent man in the world, and am undone,\nif you will not be pleased to hear me patiently; nobody deserves\nmore compassion. Sir, replied one of the domestics, will you listen\nto a robber, who enters people\u2019s houses to plunder and murder\nthem? If you will not believe us, only look upon his back. And when\nhe said so, he uncovered my brother\u2019s back, and showed it to the\njudge; who, without any other information, commanded immediately to\ngive him a hundred lashes with a bull\u2019s pizzle over the shoulders,\nand made him afterwards be carried through the town on a camel, with\none crying before him, \u2018Thus are such men punished as enter\npeople\u2019s houses by force.\u2019 After haring treated him thus, they\nbanished him the town, and forbid him ever to return to it again.\nSome people who met him after the second misfortune, brought me word\nwhere he was, and I went and fetched him to Bagdad privately, and\ngave him all the assistance I could. The caliph, continued the\nbarber, did not laugh so much at this story as at the other. He was\npleased to pity the unfortunate Alcouz, and ordered something to be\ngiven me. But, without giving his servants time to obey his orders,\nI continued my discourse, and said to him, My sovereign lord and\nmaster, you see that I do not talk much; and since your majesty has\nbeen pleased to do me the favour to listen to me so far, I beg you\nwould likewise hear the adventures of my two other brothers. I hope\nthey will be as diverting as those of the former. You may make a\ncomplete history of them, that will not be unworthy of your library.\nI shall do myself the honour then to acquaint you, that the fifth\nbrother was called Alnaschar.\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of the Barber\u2019s fifth Brother.\n\n\nAlnaschar, as long as our father lived, was very lazy; instead of\nworking for his hiving, he used to go begging in the evening, and to\nlive next day upon what he got. Our father died in a very old age,\nand left among us seven hundred drachms of silver: we divided it\nequally, so that each of us had a hundred for our share. Alnaschar,\nwho had never so much money before in his lifetime, was very much\nperplexed to know what he should do with it. He consulted a long\ntime with himself, and at last resolved to lay it out in glasses,\nbottles, and other glass-ware, which he bought of a wholesale\ndealer. He put all in an open basket, and chose a very little shop,\nwhere he sat with the basket before him, and his back against the\nwall, expecting while somebody should come and buy his ware. In this\nposture he sat, with his eyes fixed on his basket, and began to\nmeditate; during which he spoke as follows, loud enough to be heard\nby a neighbouring tailor: This basket, said he, cost me a hundred\ndrachms, which is all I have in the world; I shall make two hundred\nof it by retailing my glass, and of these two hundred drachms, which\nI will again lay out in glass-ware, I shall make four hundred; --and\ngoing on thus, I shall at last make four thousand drachms; of four\nthousand I shall easily make eight thousand, and when I come to ten\nthousand, I will leave off selling glass, and turn jeweller. I will\ntrade in diamonds, pearls, and all sorts of precious stones. Then,\nwhen I am rich as I can wish, I will buy a fine house, a great\nestate, slaves, eunuchs, and horses. I will keep a good house, and\nmake a great figure in the world; I will send for all the musicians\nand dancers of both sexes in town. --Nor will I stop here: I will,\nby the favour of heaven, go on till I get a hundred thousand\ndrachms; and when I have got so much, I will think myself as great\nas a prince, and send to demand the grand vizier\u2019s daughter in\nmarriage; and represent to that minister that I have heard much of\nthe wonderful beauty, understanding, wit, and all the other\nqualities of his daughter. In a word, that I will give him a\nthousand pieces of gold the first night after we are married; and if\nthe vizier be so uncivil as to refuse his daughter, which cannot be\nsupposed, I will go and carry her off before his face, and take her\nto my house, whether he will or no. --As soon as I have married the\ngrand vizier\u2019s daughter, I will buy her ten young black eunuchs,\nthe handsomest that can be had. I will clothe myself like a prince,\nand, mounted upon a fine horse, with a saddle of fine gold, and\nhousings of cloth of gold, finely embroidered with diamonds and\npearls, I will ride through the city, attended by slaves before and\nbehind; and I will go to the vizier\u2019s palace, in view of all the\npeople, great and small, who will show me the most profound respect.\nWhen I alight at the foot of the vizier\u2019s staircase, I will go up\nthe same through my own people, ranged in files on the right and\nleft; and the grand vizier, receiving me as his son-in-law, shall\ngive me the right hand, and set me above him, to do me the more\nhonour. If this comes to pass, as I hope it will, two of my people\nshall each of them have a purse with a thousand pieces of gold,\nwhich they shall carry with them. I will take one, and presenting it\nto the grand vizier, will tell him, There is the thousand pieces of\ngold that I promised the first night of marriage; and I will offer\nhim the other, and say to him, There is as much more, to shew you\nthat I am a man of my word, and even better than my promise. After\nsuch an action as this, all the world will talk of my generosity. I\nwill return to my own house in the same pomp. My wife will send some\nofficer to compliment me, on account of my visit to the vizier, her\nfather; I will honour the officer with a fine robe, and send him\nback with a rich present. If she thinks to send me one, I will not\naccept it, but dismiss the bearer. I will not suffer her to go out\nof her apartment on any account whatever, without giving me notice;\nand when I have a mind to come to her apartment, it shall be in such\na manner as to make her respect me. In short, no house shall be\nbetter ordered than mine. I will be always richly clad. When I\nretire with my wife in the evening, I will sit on the upper hand; I\nwill affect a grave air, without turning my head to one side or\nother. I will speak little; and whilst my wife, beautiful as the\nfull moon, stands before me in all her charms, I will make as if I\ndid not see her. Her women about her will say to me, Our dear lord\nand master, here is your spouse, your humble servant, before you,\nready to receive your caresses, and much mortified that you do not\nvouchsafe to look upon her; she is wearied with standing so long;\nbid her, at least, sit down. I will give no answer to this\ndiscourse, which will increase their surprise and grief. They will\nprostrate themselves at my feet; and after they have for a\nconsiderable time entreated me to relent, I will at last lift up my\nhead, and give her a careless look, and resume my former posture:\nthey will suppose that my wife is not well enough, nor handsomely\nenough dressed, and will carry her to her closet to change her\napparel. At the same time I will get up, and put on a more\nmagnificent suit than before: they will return, and hold the same\ndiscourse with me as before, and I will have the pleasure not so\nmuch as to look upon my wife, till they have prayed and entreated as\nlong as they did at first. Thus I will begin on the first day of\nmarriage to teach her what she is to expect during the rest of her\nlife.\n\nAfter the ceremonies of the marriage, said Alnaschar, I will take\nfrom one of my servants, who shall be about me, a purse of five\nhundred pieces of gold, which I will give to the tire-women, that\nthey may leave me alone with my spouse. When they are gone, my wife\nshall go to bed first; then I will lie down by her, with my back\ntowards her, and will not say one word to her all night. The next\nmorning she will certainly complain of my contempt to her, and of my\npride, to her mother, the grand vizier\u2019s wife, which will rejoice\nmy heart. Her mother will come to wait upon me, respectfully kiss my\nhands, and say to me, Sir, (for she will not dare to call me\nson-in-law, for fear of provoking me by such a familiar style,) I\nentreat you not to disdain to look upon my daughter, and refuse to\ncome near her: I assure you that her chief delight is to please you,\nand that she loves you with all her soul. But, in spite of all my\nmother-in-law can say, I will not answer her one word, but keep an\nobstinate gravity. Then she will throw herself at my feet, kiss them\nrepeatedly, and say to me, Sir, is it possible that you can suspect\nmy daughter\u2019s good sense? I assure you I never let her go out of\nmy sight. You are the first man that ever saw her face: do not\nmortify her so much; do her the favour to look upon her, to speak to\nher, and confirm her in her good intentions to satisfy you in every\nthing. But nothing of this shall prevail with me. Upon which my\nmother-in-law will take a glass of wine, and, putting it in the hand\nof her daughter, my wife, will say, Go, present him this glass of\nwine yourself; perhaps he will not be so cruel as to refuse it from\nso fair a hand. My wife will come with the glass, and stand\ntrembling before me; and when she finds that I do not look towards\nher, but that I continue to disdain her, she will say to me, with\ntears in her eyes, My heart, my dear soul, my amiable lord, I\nconjure you, by the favours which heaven heaps upon you, to receive\nthis glass of wine from the hand of your most humble servant; but I\nwill not look upon her still, nor answer her. My charming spouse,\nwill she say, redoubling her tears, and putting the glass to my\nmouth, I will never leave off till I prevail with you to drink;\nthen, wearied with her entreaties, I will dart a terrible look at\nher, give her a good box on the cheek, and such a push with my foot,\nas will throw her to a distance from the sofa.\n\nMy brother was so full of these chimerical visions, that he acted\nwith his foot as if she had been really before him, and by\nmisfortune he gave such a push to his basket and glasses, that they\nwere thrown down in the street, and broken in a thousand pieces.\n\nThe tailor, his neighbour, who heard his extravagant talk, burst\ninto a great fit of laughter when he saw the basket fall. O, what an\nunworthy fellow art thou! said he to my brother: ought you not be\nashamed to abuse thus a young spouse, who gave you no cause to\ncomplain. You must be a very brutish fellow to despise the tears and\ncharms of such a beautiful lady. Were I the vizier, your\nfather-in-law, I would order you a hundred lashes with a bull\u2019s\npizzle, and send you through the town with your character written on\nyour forehead. My brother, on this fatal accident, came to himself,\nand perceiving that he had brought this misfortune upon himself by\nhis insupportable pride, he beat his face, tore his clothes, and\ncried so loud, that the neighbours came about him; and the people,\nwho were going to their noon-prayers, stopt to know what was the\nmatter. Being on a Friday, more people went to prayers than usual:\nsome of them took pity on Alnaschar, and others only laughed at him\nfor his extravagance. In the mean time, his vanity being dispersed\nwith his property, he bitterly bewailed his loss; and a lady of rank\npassing by upon a mule richly caparisoned, my brother\u2019s situation\nmoved her compassion. She asked him who he was, and what he cried\nfor? They told her, that he was a poor man, who had laid out the\nlittle money he was worth in the purchase of a basket of glass ware,\nand that the basket had fallen over, and all his glasses were\nbroken. The lady immediately turned to an eunuch who attended her,\nand said to him, Give the poor man what you have about you. The\neunuch obeyed, and put into my brother\u2019s hands a purse, with five\nhundred pieces of gold. Alnaschar was ready to die with joy when he\nreceived it. He gave a thousand blessings to the lady, and shutting\nup his shop, where he had no more occasion to sit, he went to his\nhouse.\n\nWhile he was making deep reflections upon his good luck, he heard\nsomebody knock at his door: before he opened, he asked who it was;\nand knowing by the voice that it was a woman, he let her in. My son,\nsaid she, I have a favour to beg of you: the hour of prayer is come;\npray let me wash myself, that I may be fit to say my prayers. Pray\nlet me come into your house, and give me a basin of water. My\nbrother looked at her, and saw that she was a woman well advanced in\nyears: though he knew her not, he granted her request, and sat down\nagain, still full of his new adventure. He put his gold in a long\nstrait purse, proper to carry at his girdle. The old woman in the\nmean time said her prayers, and when she had done, came to my\nbrother, and bowed twice to the ground so low, that she touched it\nwith her forehead, as if she had been going to say her prayers: then\nrising up, she wished my brother all happiness.\n\nBeing meanly clad, and very humble, he thought she asked alms, upon\nwhich he offered her two pieces of gold. The old woman stept back in\na sort of surprise, as if my brother had affronted her. Good God!\nsaid she, what is the meaning of this? Is it possible, sir, that you\ntook me for one of those impudent beggars who push into people\u2019s\nhouses to ask alms? Take back your money; I need it not, thank\nheaven. I belong to a young lady of this city, who is a charming\nbeauty, and very rich; she lets me want for nothing.\n\n[Illustration: THE VISION OF ALNASCHAR.]\n\nMy brother was not cunning enough to perceive the craft of the old\nwoman, who only refused the two pieces of gold, that she might catch\nmore. He asked her if she could not procure him the honour of seeing\nthat lady. With all my heart, replied she; she will be very glad to\nmarry you, and to put you in possession of her fortune, by making\nyou master of her person. Take up your money and follow me. My\nbrother being ravished with his good luck of finding so great a sum\nof money, and almost at the same time a beautiful and rich wife,\nshut his eyes to all other considerations; so that he took his five\nhundred pieces of gold, and followed the old woman. She walked\nbefore him, and he followed at a distance, to the gate of a great\nhouse, where she knocked. He came up to her just as a young Greek\nslave opened the gate. The old woman made him enter first, crossed a\nwell-paved court, and introduced him into a hall, the furniture of\nwhich confirmed him in the good opinion he had conceived of the\nmistress of the house. While the old woman went to acquaint the\nlady, he sat down, and the weather being hot, put off his turban,\nand laid it by him. He speedily saw the young lady come in, whose\nbeauty and rich apparel perfectly surprised him; he got up as soon\nas he saw her. The lady, with a smiling countenance, prayed him to\nsit down again, and placed herself by him: she told him she was very\nglad to see him; and after having spoken some engaging words to him,\nsaid, We do not sit here at our ease. Come, give me your hand. At\nthese words she presented him hers, and carried him into an inner\nchamber, where she conversed with him for some time: then she left\nhim, bidding him stay, --she would be with him in a moment. He\nwaited for her; but instead of a lady came in a great black slave,\nwith a scimitar in his hand, and looking upon my brother, with a\nterrible aspect, said to him fiercely, What have you to do here?\nAlnaschar was so frightened at the sight of the slave, that he had\nno power to answer. The black stripped him, carried on his gold, and\ngave him several flesh wounds with his scimitar. My unhappy brother\nfell to the ground, where he lay without motion, though he had still\nthe use of his senses. The black thinking him to be dead, asked for\nsalt: the Greek slave brought him a basin full: they rubbed my\nbrother\u2019s wounds with it, who had so much command of himself,\nnotwithstanding the intolerable pain it put him to, that he lay\nstill, without giving any sign of life. The black and the Greek\nslave being retired, the old woman, who drew my brother into the\nsnare, came and dragged him by the feet to a trap-door, which she\nopened, and threw him into a place under ground, among the corpses\nof several other people that had been murdered. He perceived this as\nsoon as he came to himself, for the violence of the fall had taken\naway his senses. The salt rubbed into his wounds preserved his life,\nand he recovered strength by degrees, so as he was able to walk.\nAfter two days he opened the trap-door in the night, and finding in\nthe court a place proper to hide himself in, continued there till\nbreak of day, when he saw the cursed old woman open the gate to the\nstreet, and go out to seek another prey. He staid in the place some\ntime after she went out, that she might not see him, and then came\nto me for shelter, when he told me of his adventures.\n\nIn a month\u2019s time he was perfectly cured of his wounds by\nmedicines that I gave him; and resolved to avenge himself of the old\nwoman, who had put such a barbarous cheat upon him. To this end he\ntook a bag, large enough to contain five hundred pieces of gold, and\nfilled it with pieces of glass.\n\nMy brother fastened the bag of glass about him, disguised himself\nlike an old woman, and took a scimitar under his gown. One morning\nhe met the old woman walking through the town to seek her prey; he\ncame up to her, and counterfeiting a woman\u2019s voice, said to her,\nCannot you lend me a pair of scales? I am a woman newly come from\nPersia, have brought five hundred pieces of gold with me, and would\nknow if they are weight. --Good woman, answered the old hag, you\ncould not have applied to a properer person: follow me; I will bring\nyou to my son, who changes money, and will weigh them himself, to\nsave you the trouble. Let us make haste, for fear he go to his shop.\nMy brother followed her to the house where she carried him the first\ntime, and the Greek slave opened the door.\n\nThe old woman carried my brother to the hall, where she bid him stay\na moment till she called her son. The pretended son came, and proved\nto be the villanous black slave. Come, old woman, said he to my\nbrother, rise and follow me: having spoke thus, he went before to\nbring him to the place where he designed to murder him. Alnaschar\ngot up, followed him, and drawing his scimitar, gave him such a\ndexterous blow behind on the neck, that he cut off his head, which\nhe took in one hand, and, dragging the corpse with the other, threw\nthem both into the place under ground before mentioned. The Greek\nslave, who was accustomed to the trade, came presently with a basin\nof salt; but when she saw Alnaschar with his scimitar in his hand,\nand without his veil, she laid down the basin, and fled. But my\nbrother overtaking her, cut off her head also. The wicked old woman\ncame running at the noise, and my brother seizing her, said to her,\nTreacherous wretch! do not you know me? Alas, sir! answered she,\ntrembling, who are you? I do not remember that I ever saw you. --I\nam, said he, the person to whose house you came the other day to\nwash and say your prayers. Hypocritical hag! said he, do not you\nremember it? Then she fell on her knees to beg his pardon, but he\ncut her in four pieces.\n\nThere remained only the lady, who knew nothing of what had passed:\nhe sought her out, and found her in a chamber, where she was ready\nto sink when she saw him: she begged her life, which he generously\ngranted. Madam, said he, how could you live with such wicked people,\nas I have so justly revenged myself upon now? I was, said she, wife\nto an honest merchant; and the cursed old woman, whose wickedness I\ndid not know, used sometimes to come to see me. Madam, said she to\nme one day, we have a very fine wedding at our house, which you will\nbe pleased to see, if you give us the honour of your company: I was\npersuaded by her, put on my best apparel, and took with me a hundred\npieces of gold. I followed her; she brought me to this house, where\nthe black has since kept me by force, and I have been three years\nhere, to my very great sorrow. By the trade which that cursed black\nfollowed, replied my brother, he must have gathered together a vast\ndeal of riches. There is so much, said she, that you will be made\nfor ever, if you carry them off: follow me, and you shall see them.\nAlnaschar followed her to a chamber, where she showed him several\ncoffers full of gold, which he beheld with admiration. Go, said she,\nfetch people enough to carry it all off. My brother needed not be\nbid twice: he went out, and staid only till he got ten men together,\nand brought them with him, and was much surprised to find the gate\nopen, but more when he found the lady and coffers all gone; for she\nbeing more diligent than he, carried them all off and disappeared.\nHowever, being resolved not to return empty-handed, he carried off\nall the furniture he could find in the house, which was a great deal\nmore than enough to make up the five hundred pieces of gold he was\nrobbed of; but when he went out of the house, he forgot to shut the\ngate. The neighbours, who saw my brother and the porters come and\ngo, went and acquainted the magistrate with it, for they looked upon\nmy brother\u2019s conduct as suspicious. Alnaschar slept well enough\nall night; but the next morning, when he came out of his house, he\nfound twenty of the magistrate\u2019s men, who seized him. Come along\nwith us, said they; our master would sneak with you. My brother\nprayed them to have patience for a moment, and offered them a sum of\nmoney to let him escape; but instead of listening to him, they bound\nhim, and forced him to go along with them. They met in the street an\nold acquaintance of my brother\u2019s, who stopped them awhile, and\nasked them why they siezed my brother, and offered them a\nconsiderable sum to let him escape, and tell the magistrate they\ncould not find him. But this would not do; so he was carried before\nthe magistrate.\n\nWhen the officers brought him before the magistrate, he asked him\nwhere he had the goods which he carried home last night? Sir,\nreplied Alnaschar, I am ready to tell you all the truth; but allow\nme first to have recourse to your clemency, and to beg your promise,\nthat nothing shall be done to me. I give it you, said the\nmagistrate. Then my brother told him the whole story without\ndisguise, from the time the old woman came into the house to say her\nprayers, to the time the lady made her escape, after he had killed\nthe black, the Greek slave, and the old woman: and as for what he\nhad carried to his house, he prayed the judge to leave him part of\nit, for the five hundred pieces of gold that he was robbed of.\n\nThe judge, without promising any thing, sent his officers to bring\noff all, and having put the goods into his own wardrobe, commanded\nmy brother to quit the town immediately, and never to return, for he\nwas afraid, if my brother had staid in the city, he would have found\nsome way to represent this injustice to the caliph. In the mean\ntime, Alnaschar obeyed without murmuring, and left that town to go\nto another: by the way he met with highwaymen, who stript him naked;\nand when the ill news was brought to me, I carried him a suit, and\nbrought him secretly again into the town, where I took the like care\nof him as I did of his other brothers.\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of the Barber\u2019s sixth Brother.\n\n\nI have now only to tell you the story of my sixth brother, called\nSchacabac, with the hare-lips. At first he was industrious enough to\nimprove the hundred drachms of silver which fell to his share, and\nwent on very well; but a reverse of fortune brought him to beg his\nbread, which he did with a great deal of dexterity. He studied\nchiefly to get into great men\u2019s houses, by means of their servants\nand officers, that he might have access to their masters, and obtain\ntheir charity. One day, as he passed by a magnificent house, whose\nhigh gate showed him a very spacious court, where there was a\nmultitude of servants, he went to one of them, and asked him to whom\nthat house belonged. Good man, replied the servant, whence do you\ncome, that you ask me such a question? Does not all that you see\nmake you understand that it is the palace of a Barmecide? [77] My\nbrother, who very well knew the liberality and generosity of the\nBarmecides, addressed himself to one of his porters, (for he had\nmore than one,) and prayed him to give him an alms. Go in, said he,\nnobody hinders you, and address yourself to the master of the house;\nhe will send you back satisfied.\n\nMy brother, who expected no such civility, thanked the porters, and\nwith their permission entered the palace, which was so large, that\nit took him a considerable time to reach the Barmecide\u2019s\napartment; at last he came to a fine square building of an excellent\narchitecture, and entered by a porch, through which he saw one of\nthe finest gardens with gravel walks of several colours, extremely\npleasant to the eye: the lower apartments round this square were\nmost of them open, and were shut only with great curtains to keep\nout the sun, which were opened again when the heat was over, to let\nin the fresh air.\n\nSuch an agreeable place would have struck my brother with\nadmiration, even if his mind had been more at ease than it was. He\nwent on till he came into a hall richly furnished, and adorned with\npainting of gold and azure foliage, where he saw a venerable man\nwith a long white beard, sitting at the upper end on a sofa, whence\nhe concluded him to be the master of the house; and in fact it was\nthe Barmecide himself, who said to my brother in a very civil\nmanner, that he was welcome; and asked him what he wanted. My lord,\nanswered my brother, in a begging tone, I am a poor man who stands\nin need of the help of such rich and generous persons as yourself.\nHe could not have addressed himself to a fitter person than this\nlord, who had a thousand good qualities.\n\nThe Barmecide seemed to be astonished at my brother\u2019s answer, and\nputting both his hands to his stomach, as if he would rend his\nclothes for grief, Is it possible, cried he, that I am at Bagdad,\nand that such a man as you is so poor as you say? This is what must\nnever be. My brother, fancying that he was going to give him some\nsingular mark of his bounty, blessed him a thousand times, and\nwished him all sorts of happiness. It shall not be said, replied the\nBarmecide, that I will abandon you, nor will I have you leave me.\n--Sir, replied my brother, I swear to you I have not eaten one bit\nto-day. --Is that true, replied the Barmecide, that you are fasting\ntill now? Alas, poor man! he is ready to die for hunger: Ho, boy,\ncried he, with a loud voice, bring a basin and water presently, that\nwe may wash our hands. Though no boy appeared, and my brother saw\nneither water nor basin, the Barmecide fell to rubbing his hands, as\nif one had poured water upon them, and bid my brother come and wash\nwith him. Schacabac judged by that, that the Barmecide lord loved to\nbe merry; and he himself understanding raillery, and knowing that\nthe poor must be complaisant to the rich, if they would have any\nthing from them, he came forward, and did as he did.\n\nCome on, said the Barmecide; bring us something to eat, and do not\nlet us stay for it. When he had said so, though nothing was brought,\nhe began to cut as if something had been brought him upon a plate,\nand putting his hand to his mouth began to chew, and said to my\nbrother, Come, friend, eat as freely as if you were at home; come,\neat; you said you were like to die of hunger, but you eat as if you\nhad no stomach. --Pardon me, my lord, said Schacabac, who perfectly\nimitated what he did, you see I lose no time, and that I play my\npart well enough. --How like you this bread? said the Barmecide: do\nnot you find it very good? --O! my lord, said my brother, who saw\nneither bread nor meat, I never ate any thing so white and so fine.\n--Eat your fill, said the Barmecide; I assure you, the woman who\nbakes me this good bread cost me five hundred pieces of gold to\npurchase her.\n\nThe Barmecide, after having boasted so much of his bread, which my\nbrother eat only in idea, cried. Boy, bring us another dish: and\nthough no boy appeared, Come, my good friend, said he to my brother,\ntaste this new dish; and tell me if ever you eat better mutton and\nbarley-broth than this. --It is admirably good, replied my brother,\nand therefore you see I eat heartily. --You oblige me highly,\nreplied the Barmecide; I conjure you then, by the satisfaction I\nhave to see you eat so heartily, that you eat all up, since you like\nit so well. A little while after he called for a goose, and sweet\nsauce, made up of vinegar, honey, dry raisins, gray peas, and dry\nfigs, which were brought just in the same manner as the other was.\nThe goose is very fat, said the Barmecide, eat only a leg and a\nwing; we must save our stomachs, for we have abundance of other\ndishes to come. He actually called for several other dishes, of\nwhich my brother, who was ready to die of hunger, pretended to eat;\nbut what he boasted of more than all the rest was a lamb fed with\npistachio nuts, which he ordered to be brought up in the same manner\nthat the rest were. And here is a dish, said the Barmecide, that you\nwill see at nobody\u2019s table but my own; I would have you eat your\nbelly-full of it. Having spoken thus, he stretched out his hand as\nif he had a piece of lamb in it, and putting it to my brother\u2019s\nmouth, There, said he, swallow that, and you will judge whether I\nhad not reason to boast of this dish. My brother thrust out his\nhead, opened his mouth, and made as if he took the piece of lamb,\nand eat it with extreme pleasure. I knew you would like it, said the\nBarmecide. There is nothing in the world finer, replied my brother;\nyour table is most delicious. --Come, bring the ragout presently; I\nfancy you will like that as well as you did the lamb. --Well, how do\nyou relish it? said the Barmecide. O! it is wonderful, replied\nSchacabac; for here we taste all at once, amber, cloves, nutmeg,\nginger, pepper, and the most odoriferous herbs; and all these\ndelicacies are so well mixed, that one does not prevent our tasting\nthe other. How pleasant! --Honour this ragout, said the Barmecide,\nby eating heartily of it. Ho, boy, cried he, bring us a new ragout.\n--No, my lord, if it please you, replied my brother, for indeed I\ncan eat no more.\n\nCome, take away then, said the Barmecide, and bring the fruit. He\nstaid a moment, as if it were to give time for his servants to carry\naway; after which, he said to my brother, Taste these almonds; they\nare good and fresh gathered. Both of them made as if they had peeled\nthe almonds, and eaten them: after this, the Barmecide invited my\nbrother to eat something else. Look you, said he, there are all\nsorts of fruits, cakes, dry sweetmeats, and conserves; take what you\nlike; then stretching out his hand, as if he had reached my brother\nsomething, Look ye, said he, there is a lozenge, very good for\ndigestion. Schacabac made as if he eat it, and said, My lord, there\nis no want of musk here. --These lozenges, said the Barmecide, are\nmade at my own house, where there is nothing wanting to make every\nthing good. He still bid my brother eat, and said to him, Methinks\nyou do not eat as if you had been so hungry, as you said when you\ncame in. --My lord, replied Shacabac, whose jaws ached with moving\nand having nothing to eat, I assure you I am so full that I cannot\neat one bit more.\n\nWell then, friend, replied the Barmecide, we must drink now, after\nwe have eat so well. [78] --You may drink wine, my lord, replied my\nbrother; but I will drink none, if you please, because I am\nforbidden it. --You are too scrupulous, replied the Barmecide; do as\nI do. --I will drink then out of complaisance, said Shacabac, for I\nsee you will have nothing wanting to make your treat complete: but\nsince I am not accustomed to drink wine, I am afraid I shall commit\nsome error in point of good breeding, and contrary to the respect\nthat is due to you, and therefore I pray you, once more, to excuse\nme from drinking any wine; I will be content with water. --No, no,\nsaid the Barmecide, you shall drink wine: and at the same time he\ncommanded some to be brought, in the same manner as the meat and\nfruit had been brought before. He made as if he poured out wine, and\ndrank first himself, and then pouring out for my brother, presented\nhim the glass: Drink my health, said he, and let us know if you\nthink this wine good. My brother made as if he took the glass, and\nlooked if the colour was good, and put it to his nose to try if it\nhad a good flavour: then he made a low bow to the Barmecide, to\nsignify that he took the liberty to drink his health; and, lastly,\nhe appeared to drink with all the signs of a man that drinks with\npleasure. --My lord, said he, this is very excellent wine, but I\nthink it is not strong enough. --If you would have stronger, said\nthe Barmecide, you need only speak, for I have several sorts in my\ncellar. --Try how you like this. Upon which he made as if he poured\nout another glass to himself, and then to my brother; and did this\nso often, that Schacabac, feigning to be intoxicated with the wine,\nand acting a drunken man, lifted up his hand, and gave the Barmecide\nsuch a box on the ear, as made him fall down: he was going to give\nhim another blow, but the Barmecide holding up his hand to ward it\noff, cried out, Are you mad? Then my brother, making as if he had\ncome to himself again, said, My lord, you have been so good as to\nadmit your slave into your house, and give him a great treat; you\nshould have been satisfied with making me eat, and not have obliged\nme to drink wine? for I told you beforehand, that it might occasion\nme to fail in my respect for you. I am very sorry for it, and beg\nyou a thousand pardons.\n\nScarce had he finished these words, when the Barmecide, instead of\nbeing in a passion, fell a laughing with all his might. It is a long\ntime, said he, that I have been seeking a man of your character.\n\nThe Barmecide caressed Schacabac mightily, and told him, I not only\nforgive the blow you have given me, but I desire henceforward we\nshould be friends, and that you take my house for your home: you\nhave had the complaisance to accommodate yourself to my humour, and\nthe patience to keep the jest up to the last; we will now eat in\ngood earnest. When he had finished these words, he clapped his\nhands, and commanded his servants, who then appeared, to cover the\ntable; which was speedily done, and my brother was treated with all\nthose dishes in reality, which he ate of before in fancy. At last\nthey cleared the table, and brought in the wine, and at the same\ntime a number of handsome slaves, richly apparelled, came in and\nsung some agreeable airs to their musical instruments. In a word,\nSchacabac had all the reason in the world to be satisfied with the\nBarmecide\u2019s civility and bounty; for he treated him as his\nfamiliar friend, and ordered him a suit out of his wardrobe.\n\nThe Barmecide found my brother to be a man of so much wit and\nunderstanding, that in a few days after, he entrusted him with his\nhousehold and all his affairs. My brother acquitted himself very\nwell in that employment for twenty years; at the end of which the\ngenerous Barmecide died, and leaving no heirs, all his property was\nconfiscated to the use of the prince, and my brother lost all he had\nacquired: and, being reduced to his first condition, he joined a\ncaravan of pilgrims going to Mecca, designing to accomplish that\npilgrimage by their charity: but unfortunately the caravan was\nattacked and plundered by a number of Bedouins, [79] superior to\nthat of the pilgrims. My brother was then taken as a slave by one of\nthe Bedouins, who put him under the bastinado for several days, to\noblige him to ransom himself. Schacabac protested to him, that it\nwas all in vain. I am your slave, said he; you may dispose of me as\nyou please; but I declare to you, that I am extremely poor, and not\nable to redeem myself. In a word, my brother discovered to him all\nhis misfortunes, and endeavoured to soften him with tears; but the\nBedouin was not to be moved, and being vexed to find himself\ndisappointed of a considerable sum which he reckoned himself sure\nof, he took his knife, and slit my brother\u2019s lips, to avenge\nhimself by this inhumanity for the loss that he thought he had\nsustained.\n\nThe Bedouin had a handsome wife, and frequently when he went on his\nexcursions, he left my brother alone with her, and then she used all\nher endeavours to comfort my brother under the rigour of his\nslavery: she gave him tokens enough that she loved him, out he durst\nnot return her passion, for fear he should repent it; and therefore\nhe avoided being alone with her, as much as she sought the\nopportunity to be alone with him. She had so great a custom of\ntoying and playing with the miserable Schacabac, whenever she saw\nhim, that one day she happened to do it in presence of her husband.\nMy brother, without taking notice that he observed them (so his sins\nwould have it) played likewise with her. The Bedouin immediately\nsupposing that they lived together in a criminal manner, fell upon\nmy brother in a rage, and after he had mutilated him in a barbarous\nmanner, he carried him on a camel to the top of a desert mountain,\nwhere he left him. The mountain was on the road to Bagdad, so that\nthe passengers who saw him there informed me where he was. I went\nthither speedily, and found unfortunate Schacabac in a deplorable\ncondition: I gave him what help he stood in need of, and brought him\nback to the city.\n\nThis is what I told the caliph Monstanser Billah, added the barber;\nthat prince applauded me with new fits of laughter. Now, said he, I\ncannot doubt but they justly gave you the surname of Silent. Nobody\ncan say the contrary; for certain reasons, however, I command you to\ndepart this town immediately, and let me hear no more of you. I\nyielded to necessity, and travelled for several years in distant\ncountries. Understanding at last that the caliph was dead, I\nreturned to Bagdad, where I found not one of my brothers alive. It\nwas on my return to this city, that I did the lame young man the\nimportant service which you have heard. You are, however, witness of\nhis ingratitude, and of the injurious manner in which he treated me:\ninstead of testifying his obligation, he rather chose to fly from\nme, and to leave his own country. When I understood that he was not\nat Bagdad, though nobody could tell me truly whither he was gone, I\ndid not forbear to go and seek him. I travelled from province to\nprovince a long time; and when I least expected, I met him this day;\nbut I little thought to find him so incensed against me.\n\nThe tailor thus made an end of telling the sultan of Casgar the\nhistory of the lame young man and the barber of Bagdad. When the\nbarber, continued he, had finished his story, we found that the\nyoung man was not to blame for calling him a great chatterer.\nHowever, we wished him to stay with us, and partake of the treat\nwhich the master of the house had prepared for us. We sat down to\ntable, and were merry together till afternoon prayers; then all the\ncompany parted, and I went to my shop till it was time for me to\nreturn home.\n\nIt was during this interval, that Hump-back came half drunk before\nmy shop, where he sung and played on his tabor. I thought that by\ncarrying him home with me, I should divert my wife, therefore I\nbrought him in. My wife gave us a dish of fish, and I presented\nHump-back with some, which he ate without taking notice of a bone.\nHe fell down dead before us; and after having in vain essayed to\nhelp him, in the trouble and fear occasioned by such an unlucky\naccident we carried the corpse out, and dexterously lodged him with\nthe Jewish doctor. The Jewish doctor put him into the chamber of the\npurveyor, and the purveyor carried him out into the street, where it\nwas believed the merchant had killed him. This, sir, added the\ntailor, is what I had to say to satisfy your majesty, who must\npronounce, whether we be worthy of mercy or wrath, life or death.\n\nThe sultan of Casgar showed a satisfaction in his countenance, which\nrestored the tailor and his comrades to life. I cannot but\nacknowledge, said he, that I am more struck with the history of the\nyoung cripple, with that of the barber, and with the adventures of\nhis brothers, than with the story of my jester: but before I send\nyou all four away, and before we bury Humpback, I should like to see\nthe barber who is the cause that I have pardoned you; since he is in\nmy capital, it is easy to satisfy my curiosity. At the same time he\nsent an officer with the tailor to find him.\n\nThe officer and the tailor went immediately, and brought the barber,\nwhom they presented to the sultan. The barber was an old man, about\nninety years old; his eyebrows and beard were white as snow, his\nears hanging down, and his nose very long. The sultan could not\nforbear laughing when he saw him. Silent man, said he to him, I\nunderstand that you know wonderful stories; will you tell me some of\nthem? --Sir, answered the barber, let us forbear the stories, if you\nplease at present. I most humbly beg your majesty to permit me to\nask what that Christian, that Jew, that Mussulman, and that dead\nHumpback, who lies on the ground, do here before your majesty? The\nsultan smiled at the barber\u2019s freedom, and replied, Why do you\nask? --Sir, replied the barber, it concerns me to ask, that your\nmajesty may know I am not so great a talker as some pretend, but a\nman justly called Silent.\n\nThe sultan of Casgar had the complaisance to satisfy the barber\u2019s\ncuriosity. He commanded them to tell him the story of the Humpback,\nwhich he seemed earnestly to wish for. When the barber heard it, he\nshook his head, as if he would say, there was something under this\nwhich he did not understand. Truly, cried he, this is a surprising\nstory; but I wish to examine Humpback a little nearer. He drew near\nhim, sat down on the ground, took his head between his knees, and\nafter he had looked upon him stedfastly, he fell into so great a fit\nof laughter, and had so little command of himself, that he fell\nbackwards on the ground, without considering that he was before the\nsultan of Casgar. As soon as he came to himself, It is said, cried\nhe, and not without reason, that no man dies without a cause. If\never any history deserved to be written in letters of gold, it is\nthat of this Humpback.\n\nAt this, all the people looked upon the barber as a buffoon, or an\nold dotard. Silent man, said the sultan, speak to me: why do you\nlaugh so much? Sir, answered the barber, I swear by your majesty\u2019s\nbenevolence, that Humpback is not dead; he is yet alive, and I shall\nbe content to pass for a madman if I do not let you see it this\nminute. So saying, he took a box wherein he had several medicines\nthat he carried about him to make use of on occasion, and he took\nout a little phial of balsam, with which he rubbed Humpback\u2019s neck\na long time; then he took out of his case a neat iron instrument,\nwhich he put between his teeth; and after he had opened his mouth,\nhe thrust down his throat a pair of small pincers, with which he\ntook out a bit of fish and bone, which he showed to all the people.\nImmediately Humpback sneezed, stretched forth his arms and feet,\nopened his eyes, and allowed several other signs of life.\n\nThe sultan of Casgar, and all those who were witnesses of this\noperation, were less surprised to see Humpback revive, after he had\npassed a whole night and great part of a day without giving any sign\nof life, than at the merit and capacity of the barber, who performed\nthis, and notwithstanding all his faults, began to look upon him as\na great person. The sultan, transported with joy and admiration,\nordered the story of Humpback to be written down, with that of the\nbarber, that the memory of it might, as it deserved, be preserved\nfor ever. Nor did he stop here; but that the tailor, Jewish doctor,\npurveyor, and Christian merchant, might remember the adventure which\nthe accident of Humpback had occasioned to them with pleasure, he\ndid not send them away till he had given each of them a very rich\nrobe, with which he caused them to be clothed in his presence. As\nfor the barber, he honoured him with a great pension, and kept him\nnear his person.\n\n\n\n\nThe History of Aboulhassen Ali Ebn Becar, and Schemselnihar,\nfavourite of the Caliph Haroun Alraschid.\n\n\nIn the reign of the caliph Haroun Alraschid, there was at Bagdad a\ndruggist, called Alboussan Ebn Thaher, a very rich, handsome man. He\nhad more wit and politeness than people of his profession ordinarily\nhave: his integrity, sincerity, and jovial humour, made him beloved\nand sought after by all sorts of people. The caliph, who knew his\nmerit, had an entire confidence in him. He had so great an esteem\nfor him, that he intrusted him with the care to provide his\nfavourite ladies with all the things they stood in need of: he chose\nfor them their clothes, furniture, and jewels, with admirable taste.\n\nHis good qualities, and the favour of the caliph, made the sons of\nemirs, and other officers of the first rank, be always about him:\nhis house was the rendezvous of all the nobility of the court. But\namong the young lords that went daily to visit him, there was one\nwhom he took more notice of than the rest, and with whom he\ncontracted a particular friendship, called Aboulhassen Ali Ebn\nBecar, originally of an ancient royal family of Persia. This family\ncontinued at Bagdad ever since the Mussulmen made a conquest of that\nkingdom. Nature seemed to have taken pleasure to endow this young\nprince with the rarest qualities of body and mind: his face was so\nvery beautiful, his shape so fine, his air so easy, and his\nphysiognomy so engaging, that it was impossible to see him without\nimmediately loving him. When he spoke, he expressed himself always\nin terms proper and well chosen, with a new and agreeable turn, and\nhis voice charmed all that heard him; with this he had so much wit\nand judgment, that he thought and spoke of all subjects with\nadmirable exactness. He was so reserved and modest, that he advanced\nnothing till after he had taken all possible care to avoid giving\nany ground of suspicion that he preferred his own opinion to that of\nothers.\n\nBeing such a person as I have represented him, we need not wonder\nthat Ebn Thaher distinguished him from all the other young noblemen\nof the court, most of whom had the vices contrary to his virtues.\nOne day, when the prince was with Ebn Thaher, there came a lady\nmounted on a pie-bald mule, in the midst often female slaves who\naccompanied her on foot, all very handsome, as far as could be\njudged by their air, and through their veils which covered their\nfaces. The lady had a girdle of a rose-colour, four inches broad,\nembroidered with pearls and diamonds of an extraordinary bigness;\nand for beauty, it was easy to perceive that she surpassed all her\nwomen, as far as the full moon does that of two days old. She came\nto buy something; and as she wanted to speak to Ebn Thaher, she\nentered his shop, which was very neat and spacious, and he received\nher with all the marks of the most profound respect, entreating her\nto sit down, and showing her with his hand the most honourable place.\n\nIn the mean time, the prince of Persia, unwilling to let slip such\nan opportunity of showing his good breeding and gallantry, beat up\nthe cushion of cloth of gold for the lady to lean on; after which he\nretired speedily, that she might sit down; and having saluted her by\nkissing the carpet under her feet, he rose and stood before her at\nthe lower end of the sofa. It being her custom to be free with Ebn\nThaher, she lifted up her veil, and then discovered to the prince of\nPersia such an extraordinary beauty, that he was struck with it to\nthe heart. On the other hand, the lady could not contain herself\nfrom looking upon the prince, the sight of whom had made the same\nimpressions upon her. My lord, said she to him, with an obliging\nair, pray sit down. The prince of Persia obeyed, and sat down upon\nthe edge of the sofa. He had his eyes constantly fixed upon her, and\nswallowed down large draughts of the sweet poison of love. She\nquickly perceived what passed in his heart, and this discovery\nserved to inflame her the more towards him. She rose up, went to Ebn\nThaher, and after she had whispered to him the cause of her coming,\nshe asked the name and country of the prince. Madam, answered Ebn\nThaher, this young nobleman\u2019s name is Aboulhassen Ali Ebn Becar,\nand he is prince of the blood royal.\n\nThe lady was transported at hearing that the person she already\nloved so passionately was of so high a rank. You mean certainly,\nsaid she, that he is descended from the kings of Persia? --Yes,\nmadam, replied Ebn Thaher, the last kings of Persia were his\nancestors; and since the conquest of that kingdom, the princes of\nhis family have always made themselves very acceptable at the court\nof our caliphs. --You will oblige me much, she added, by making me\nacquainted with this young nobleman. When I send this woman, said\nshe, pointing to one of her slaves, to give you notice to come and\nsee me, pray bring him with you; I shall be very glad that he should\nsee the magnificence of my house, that he may have it in his power\nto say, that avarice does not reign at Bagdad among persons of\nquality. You know what I mean? Do not fail, otherwise I will be very\nangry with you, and never come hither again while I live.\n\nEbn Thaher was a man of too much penetration not to perceive the\nlady\u2019s mind by these words. My princess, my queen, replied he, God\npreserve me from giving you any occasion of anger against me: I\nshall always make it a law to obey your commands. At this answer the\nlady bowed to Ebn Thaher, and took her leave; and after she had\ngiven a favourable look to the prince of Persia, she remounted her\nmule, and went away.\n\nThe prince of Persia was so deeply in love with the lady, that he\nlooked after her as far as he could see her; and long after she was\nout of sight, he directed his eyes that way. Ebn Thaher told him,\nthat he remarked several persons observed him, and began to laugh to\nsee him in this posture. Alas! said the prince to him, the world and\nyou would pity me, if you knew that the beautiful lady, who is just\nnow gone from you, has carried with her the best part of me, and\nthat the remaining part seeks for an opportunity to go after her.\nTell me, I conjure you, added he, what cruel lady is this, who\nforces people to love her, without giving them time to reflect? --My\nlord, answered Ebn Thaher, this is the celebrated Schemselnihar,\n[80] the principal favourite of the caliph our master. --She is\njustly so called, added the prince, since she is more beautiful than\nthe sun at noon-day. --True, replied Ebn Thaher; therefore the\ncommander of the faithful loves or rather adores her: he gave me\nexpress orders to furnish her with all that she asked of me, and to\nprevent her wishes, as far as lies in my power.\n\nHe spoke thus to hinder him from engaging in a passion which could\nnot but prove unfortunate to him; but this served only to inflame it\nthe more. I feared, charming Schemselnihar, cried he, I should not\nbe allowed so much as to think of you; I perceive, however, that\nwithout hopes of being loved by you, I cannot forbear loving you: I\nwill love you then, and bless my lot that I am the slave of an\nobject fairer than the meridian sun.\n\nWhile the prince of Persia thus consecrated his heart to the fair\nSchemselnihar, this lady, as she went home, contrived how she might\nsee and have free converse with him. She no sooner entered her\npalace, but she sent to Ebn Thaher the woman she had shown him, and\nin whom she had placed all her confidence, to tell him to come and\nsee her without delay, and bring the prince of Persia with him. The\nslave came to Ebn Thaher\u2019s shop while he was speaking to the\nprince, and endeavouring to dissuade him by very strong arguments,\nfrom loving the caliph\u2019s favourite. When she saw them together,\nGentlemen, said she to them, my honourable mistress, Schemselnihar,\nthe chief favourite of the commander of the faithful, entreats you\nto come to her palace, where she waits for you. Ebn Thaher, to\ntestify his obedience, rose up immediately, without answering the\nslave, and followed her, not without some reluctance. As for the\nprince, he followed her, without reflecting on the danger there\nmight be in such a visit. --The presence of Ebn Thaher, who had\nliberty to go to the favourite when he pleased, made the prince very\neasy. They followed the slave, who went a little before them, and\nentered after her into the caliph\u2019s palace, and joined her at the\ngate of Schemselnihar\u2019s little palace, which was ready open. She\nintroduced them into a great hall, where she prayed them to sit down.\n\nThe prince of Persia thought himself in one of those delicious\npalaces that are promised us in the other world: he had never seen\nany thing that came near the magnificence of the place he was in.\nThe carpets, cushions, and other appendages of the sofa, the\nfurniture, ornaments, and architecture, were surprisingly rich and\nbeautiful. A little time after Ebn Thaher and he had sat down, a\nvery handsome black slave brought in a table covered with several\ndelicacies, the admirable smell of which shewed how deliciously they\nwere seasoned. While they were eating, the slave who brought them in\nwaited upon them; she took particular care to invite them to eat of\nwhat she knew to be the greatest dainties. The other slaves brought\nthem excellent wine after they had eaten. When they had done, there\nwas presented to each of them a fine gold basin full of water to\nwash their hands; after which they brought them a golden pot full of\nthe perfume of aloes, with which they perfumed their beards and\nclothes. Odoriferous water was not forgotten, but served in a golden\nvessel, enriched with diamonds and rubies, made on purpose, and it\nwas thrown upon their beards and faces, according to custom. Then\nthey resumed their places; but they had scarce sat down, when the\nslave entreated them to arise and follow her. She opened a door of\nthe hall where they were, and they entered into a large saloon of\nwonderful structure. It was a dome of the most agreeable form,\nsupported by a hundred pillars of marble, white as alabaster. The\nbases and chapiters of the pillars were adorned with four-footed\nbeasts, and birds of various sorts, gilded. The carpet of this noble\nsaloon consisted of one piece of cloth of gold, embroidered with\nbunches of roses in red and white silk; and the dome, painted in the\nsame manner, after the Arabian fashion, presented to the mind one of\nthe most charming objects. Betwixt each column was a little sofa\nadorned in the same manner, and great vessels of china, crystal,\njasper, jet, porphyry, agate, and other precious materials,\ngarnished with gold and jewels; --the spaces betwixt the columns\nwere so many large windows, with seats projecting breast high,\nfitted up as the sofas, and looking out into the most delicious\ngarden; the walks were of little pebbles of different colours, of\nthe same pattern as the carpet of the saloon; so that, looking upon\nthe carpet within and without, it seemed as if the dome and the\ngarden, with all its ornaments, had been upon the same carpet. The\nprospect round was, at the end of the walks, terminated by two\ncanals of clear water, of the same circular figure as the dome, one\nof which being higher than the other, emptied its water into the\nlowermost, in form of a sheet; and curious pots of gilt brass, with\nflowers and shrubs, were set upon the banks of the canals at equal\ndistances. Those walks lav betwixt great plots of ground planted\nwith straight and bushy trees, where a thousand birds formed a\nmelodious concert, and diverted the eye by flying about, and playing\ntogether, or fighting in the air.\n\nThe prince of Persia and Ebn Thaher were a long time engaged in\nviewing the magnificence of the place, and expressed their surprise\nat every thing they saw, especially the prince, who had never beheld\nany thing like it. Ebn Thaher, though he had been several times in\nthat delicious place, could not but observe many new beauties. In a\nword, they never grew weary in admiring so many singularities, and\nwere thus agreeably employed, when they perceived a company of\nladies, richly apparelled, sitting without, at some distance from\nthe dome, each of them upon a seat of Indian plane wood, inlaid with\nsilver filigree in compartments, with instruments of music in their\nhands, waiting for orders to play. They both went forward, and had a\nfull view of the ladies; and on the right they saw a great court,\nwith a stair up from the garden, encompassed with beautiful\napartments. The slave had left them, and being alone, they conversed\ntogether. For you, who are a wise man, said the prince of Persia, I\ndoubt not but you look with a great deal of satisfaction upon all\nthese marks of grandeur and power; for my part, I do not think there\nis any thing in the world more surprising. But when I consider that\nthis is the glorious habitation of the lovely Schemselnihar, and\nthat the greatest monarch of the earth keeps her here, I confess to\nyou, that I look upon myself to be the most unfortunate of all\nmankind, and that no destiny can be more cruel than mine, to love an\nobject possessed by my rival, and that too in a place where he is so\npotent, that I cannot think myself sure of my life one moment.\n\nEbn Thaher, hearing the prince of Persia speak thus, said to him,\nSir, I wish you could give me as good assurance of the happy success\nof your passion, as I can give you of the safety of your life.\nThough this stately palace belongs to the caliph, who built it on\npurpose for Schemselnihar, and called it the _Palace of Eternal\nPleasures_, and though it makes part of his own palace, yet you must\nknow that this lady lives here at absolute liberty. She is not beset\nby eunuchs to be spies upon her; this is her private house,\nabsolutely at her disposal. She goes into the city when she pleases,\nand returns again, without asking leave of any body; and the caliph\nnever comes to see her, but he sends Mesrour, the chief of his\neunuchs, to give her notice, that she may be prepared to receive\nhim. Therefore you may be easy, and give full attention to the\nconcert of music which I perceive Schemselnihar is preparing for you.\n\nJust as Ebn Thaher had spoke these words, the prince of Persia and\nhe saw the favourite\u2019s trusty slave come and give orders to the\nladies to begin to sing, and play with the instruments. They all\nbegan immediately to play together, as a prelude; and, after they\nhad played some time, one of them began to sing alone, and played at\nthe same time admirably upon her lute, being informed beforehand\nupon what subject she was to sing. The words were so agreeable to\nthe prince of Persia\u2019s sentiments, that he could not forbear to\napplaud her at the end of the couplet. Is it possible, cried he,\nthat you have the gift of knowing people\u2019s hearts, and that the\nknowledge of what is in my mind has occasioned you to give us a\ntaste of your charming voice by those words? I should not express\nmyself otherwise were I to choose. The lady replied nothing, but\nwent on and sung several other staves, with which the prince was so\naffected, that he repeated some of them with tears in his eyes;\nwhich discovered plainly enough that he applied them to himself.\nWhen she had made an end, she and her companions rose up and sung\nall together; signifying by their words, that \u2018the full moon was\ngoing to rise in all her splendour, and that they should speedily\nsee her approach the sun;\u2019 intimating that Schemselnihar was\ncoming, and that the prince of Persia would soon have the pleasure\nto see her.\n\nIn fact, as they looked towards the court, they saw\nSchemselnihar\u2019s confidant coming towards them, followed by ten\nblack women, who with much difficulty carried a throne of massy\nsilver, curiously wrought, which they set down before them at a\ncertain distance; after which the black slaves retired behind the\ntrees, to the entrance of a walk. After this came twenty handsome\nladies, richly apparelled, in uniform dress; they advanced in two\nrows, each singing, and playing upon instruments which they held in\ntheir hands, and placed themselves on each side of the throne.\n\nAll these things kept the prince of Persia and Ebn Thaher in so much\nthe greater expectation, that they were curious to know how they\nwould end. They then saw come out at the same gate from whence the\nten black women came, ten other ladies, equally handsome and\nwell-dressed, who halted there a few moments, expecting the\nfavourite, who came out last, and placed herself in the midst of\nthem.\n\nSchemselnihar was easily distinguished from the rest by her fine\nshape and majestic air, as well as by a sort of mantle, of a very\nfine stuff of gold and sky-blue, fastened to her shoulders, over her\nother apparel, which was the most handsome, most magnificent, and\nbest contrived, that could be imagined.\n\nThe pearls, rubies, and diamonds, which adorned her, were well\ndisposed; not many in number, but well chosen, and of inestimable\nvalue. She came forward, with a majesty resembling the sun in its\ncourse amidst the clouds, which receive his splendour without hiding\nhis lustre, and sat down upon the silver throne that had been\nbrought for her.\n\nAs soon as the prince of Persia saw Schemselnihar, he could not take\nhis eyes off her. We cease inquiring, said he to Ebn Thaher, after\nwhat we seek, when once we see it; and there is no doubt left, when\nonce the truth appears. Do you see this charming beauty? She is the\ncause of all my sufferings, which I bless, and will never forbear to\nbless, however severe and lasting. At the sight of this object I am\nnot my own master; my soul is disturbed, and rebels, and seems\ndisposed to leave me. Go then, my soul, I allow thee; but let it be\nfor the welfare and preservation of this weak body. It is you, cruel\nEbn Thaher, who are the cause of this disorder. You thought to do me\na great pleasure in bringing me hither, and I perceive I am only\ncome to complete my ruin. Pardon me, said he, interrupting himself;\nI am mistaken: I would come, and can blame nobody but myself; --and\nat these words he burst into tears. I am glad, said Ebn Thaher, that\nyou do me justice. When I told you at first that Schemselnihar was\nthe caliph\u2019s chief favourite, I did it on purpose to prevent that\nfatal passion which you please yourself with entertaining in your\nbreast. All that you see here ought to disengage you, and you are to\nthink of nothing but of acknowledging the honour which Schemselnihar\nhas done you, by ordering me to bring you with me. Recall then your\nwandering reason, and prepare to appear before her as good breeding\nrequires. See, there she comes. Were we to begin again, I would take\nother measures; but since the thing is done, I pray God we may not\nhave cause to repent it. All I have now to say to you is, that love\nis a traitor, who may involve you in difficulties from which you\nwill never be able to extricate yourself.\n\nEbn Thaher had no time to say more, because Schemselnihar came; and\nsitting down upon her throne, saluted them both by bowing her head;\nbut she fixed her eyes on the prince of Persia, and they spoke to\none another in a silent language, intermixed with sighs, by which,\nin a few moments, they spoke more than they could have done by words\nin a great deal of time. The more Schemselnihar looked upon the\nprince, the more she found by his looks to confirm her in the\nopinion that he was in love with her; and being thus persuaded of\nhis passion, thought herself the happiest woman in the world. At\nlast, she turned her eyes from him to command the women, who began\nto sing first, to come near; they rose, and as they advanced, the\nblack woman, who came out of the walk into which they had retired,\nbrought their seats, and set them near the window, in the front of\nthe dome, where Ebn Thaher and the prince of Persia stood, and their\nseats were so disposed, that with the favourite\u2019s throne, and the\nwomen on each side of her, they formed a semicircle before them.\n\nThe women, who were sitting before she came, resumed their places,\nwith the permission of Schemselnihar, who ordered them by a sign.\nThat charming favourite chose one of those women to sing; who, after\nshe had spent some moments in tuning her lute, sung a song, the\nmeaning whereof was, that when two lovers entirely loved one another\nwith boundless affection, their hearts though in two bodies were\nunited; and when any thing opposed their desires, could say, with\ntears in their eyes, If we love, because we find one another\namiable, ought we to be blamed for this? Let destiny bear the blame.\n\nSchemselnihar discovered so well by her eyes and gestures that those\nwords were applicable to herself and the prince of Persia, that he\ncould not contain himself, he arose, and advancing to a balustrade,\nwhich he leaned upon, obliged one of the companions of the woman who\nhad just done singing to observe him. As she was near him, Attend to\nme, said he to her, and do me the favour to accompany with your lute\na song which you shall hear forthwith. Then he sung with an air so\ntender and passionate, as perfectly expressed the violence of his\nlove. As soon as he had done, Schemselnihar following his example,\nsaid to one of the women, Attend to me likewise, and accompany my\nvoice. At the same time she sung after such a manner, as did farther\npierce the heart of the prince of Persia, who answered by a new air,\nmore passionate than the former.\n\nThose two lovers having declared their mutual affection by their\nsongs, Schemselnihar yielded to the force of hers; she arose from\nher throne in transport, and advanced towards the door of the hall.\nThe prince, who perceived her design, rose up immediately, and went\nto meet her in all haste. They met at the door, where they took one\nanother by the hand, and embraced with so much passion, that they\nfainted and would have fallen, if the women who followed\nSchemselnihar had not hindered them. They supported them, and\ncarried them to a sofa, where they were brought to themselves again\nby throwing odoriferous water upon their faces, and by giving them\nsomething to smell to.\n\nWhen they came to themselves, the first thing that Schemselnihar did\nwas to look about, and not seeing Ebn Thaher, she asked, with\neagerness, where he was. He had withdrawn out of respect, whilst her\nwomen were engaged in recovering her, and dreaded, not without\nreason, that some disagreeable consequence might follow what he had\nseen; but as soon as he heard Schemselnihar ask for him, he came\nforward and presented himself before her.\n\nSchemselnihar was very well pleased to see Ebn Thaher, and expressed\nher joy in these obliging terms: Ebn Thaher, I know not how to\nreturn the great obligations you have put upon me; without you, I\nshould never have seen the prince of Persia, nor have loved the most\namiable person in the world; assure yourself I shall not be\nungrateful, and that my gratitude, if possible, shall be equal to\nthe obligation. Ebn Thaher answered this compliment by a low bow,\nand wished the favourite the accomplishment of all her desires.\n\nSchemselnihar, turning towards the prince of Persia, who sat by her,\nand looking upon him with some sort of confusion after what had\npassed betwixt them, said to him, Sir, I am very well assured you\nlove me; and how great soever your love may be to me, you need not\ndoubt but mine is as great towards you. But let us not flatter\nourselves; for, notwithstanding this conformity of our sentiments, I\nsee nothing for you and me but trouble, impatience, and tormenting\ngrief. There is no other remedy for our evils but to love one\nanother constantly, to refer ourselves to the disposal of heaven,\nand to wait its determination of our destiny. Madam, replied the\nprince of Persia, you will do me the greatest injustice, if you\ndoubt for a moment the continuance of my love. It is so united to my\nsoul, that I can justly say it makes the best part of it, and that I\nshall persevere in it after death. Pains, torments, obstacles,\nnothing shall be capable of hindering my loving you. Speaking these\nwords, he shed tears in abundance, and Schemselnihar was not able to\nrestrain hers.\n\nEbn Thaher took this opportunity to speak to the favourite: Madam,\nsaid he, allow me to represent to you, that, instead of melting into\ntears, you ought to rejoice that you are now together. I understand\nnot this grief. What will it be when you are obliged to part? But\nwhy do I talk of that? We have been a long while here, and you know,\nmadam, it is time for us to be going. Ah! how cruel are you! replied\nSchemselnihar. You, who know the cause of my tears, have you no pity\nfor my unfortunate condition? Oh! sad fatality! what have I done, to\nbe subject to the severe law, of not being able to enjoy the only\nperson I love?\n\nPersuaded as she was, that Ebn Thaher spoke to her only out of\nfriendship, she did not take amiss what he said to her, but made a\nproper use of it. She made a sign to the slave, her confidant, who\nimmediately went out, and in a little time brought a collation of\nfruits upon a small silver table, which she set down betwixt her\nmistress and the prince of Persia. Schemselnihar took some of the\nbest, and presented to the prince, praying him to eat it for her\nsake; he took it, and put to his mouth that part which she touched;\nand then he presented some to her, which she took, and ate in the\nsame manner. She did not forget to invite Ebn Thaher to eat with\nthem; but he, thinking himself not safe in that place, and wishing\nhimself at home, ate only out of complaisance. After the collation\nwas taken away, they brought a silver basin, with water in a vessel\nof gold, and washed together; they afterwards returned to their\nplaces, and three of the ten black women brought each a cup of rock\ncrystal full of exquisite wine, upon a golden salver, which they set\ndown before Schemselnihar, the prince of Persia, and Ebn Thaher.\nThat they might be more private, Schemselnihar kept with her only\nten black women, with ten others, who began to sing and play upon\ninstruments; and after she had sent away all the rest, she took up\none of the cups, and holding it in her hand, sung some tender words,\nwhich one of her women accompanied with her lute. When she had done,\nshe drank, and afterwards took up one of the other cups, and\npresented it to the prince, praying him to drink for love of her, as\nshe had drank for love of him. He received the cup with a transport\nof love and joy; but before he drank, he sung also a song, which\nanother woman accompanied with an instrument; and as he sang, the\ntears fell from his eyes in such abundance, that he could not\nforbear expressing in his song, that he knew not whether he was\ngoing to drink the wine she had presented to him, or his own tears.\nSchemselnihar, at last, presented the third cup to Ebn Thaher, who\nthanked her for her kindness, and for the honour she did him.\n\nAfter this, she took a lute from one of her women, and sung to it in\nsuch a passionate manner, that she seemed to be transported out of\nherself, and the prince of Persia stood with his eyes fixed upon\nher, as if he had been enchanted. As these things passed, her trusty\nslave came in a great fright, and addressing herself to her\nmistress, said, Madam Mesrour, and two other officers, with several\neunuchs that attend them, are at the gate, and want to speak with\nyou from the caliph. When the prince of Persia and Ebn Thaher heard\nthese words, they changed colour, and began to tremble, as if they\nhad been undone; but Schemselnihar, who perceived it, recovered\ntheir courage by a sigh.\n\nAfter Schemselnihar had quieted the fears of the prince of Persia\nand Ebn Thaher, she ordered the slave, her confidant, to go and\nconverse with Mesrour, and the two other officers, till she had put\nherself in a condition to receive them, and could send her to\nintroduce them. Immediately, she ordered all the windows of the\nsaloon to be shut, and the painted cloth on the side of the garden\nto be let down; and after having assured the prince and Ebn Thaher,\nthat they might continue there without any fear, she went out at the\ngreat gate leading to the garden, and shut it upon them; but\nwhatever assurance she had given them of their being safe, they were\ndesperately afraid all the while they were there.\n\nAs soon as Schemselnihar was in the garden with the woman that had\nfollowed her, she ordered all the seats, which served the women who\nplayed on the instruments, to be set near the window, where the\nprince of Persia, and Ebn Thaher heard them; and having got things\nin order, she sat down upon her silver throne; then she sent notice\nto the slave, her confidant, to bring in the chief of the eunuchs,\nand his two subaltern officers with him.\n\nThey appeared, followed by twenty black eunuchs, all handsomely\nclothed, with scimitars by their sides, and gold belts of four\ninches broad. As soon as they perceived the favourite Schemselnihar\nat a distance, they made her a profound reverence, which she\nreturned them from her throne. When they came near, she got up and\nwent to meet Mesrour, who came first; she asked what news he\nbrought. He answered, Madam, the commander of the faithful has sent\nme to signify, that he cannot live longer without seeing you; he\ndesigns to come and see you to-night, and I come beforehand to give\nyou notice, that you may be ready to receive him. He hopes, madam,\nthat you will receive him with as much pleasure as he feels\nimpatience to see you.\n\nUpon this discourse of Mesrour, the favourite Schemselnihar\nprostrated herself to the ground, as a mark of that submission with\nwhich she received the caliph\u2019s order. When she rose up again, she\nsaid, Pray tell the commander of the faithful, that I shall always\nreckon it my glory to execute his majesty\u2019s commands, and that his\nslave will do her utmost to receive him with all the respect that is\ndue to him. At the same time she ordered the slave, her confidant,\nto tell the black women appointed for that service to get the palace\nready to receive the caliph; and dismissing the chief of the\neunuchs, said to him, You see it requires some time to get all\nthings ready; therefore I entreat you to curb his majesty\u2019s\nimpatience, that, when he arrives, he may not find things out of\norder.\n\nThe chief of the eunuchs and his retinue being gone, Schemselnihar\nreturned to the saloon, extremely concerned at the necessity she was\nunder of sending back the prince of Persia sooner than she thought\nto have done. She came up to him again with tears in her eyes, which\nheightened Ebn Thaher\u2019s fear, who thought it no good omen. Madam,\nsaid the prince to her, I perceive you are come to tell me that we\nmust part: if there be nothing more to dread, I hope heaven will\ngive me the patience which is necessary to support your absence.\nAlas! my dear heart, my dear soul, replied the too tender\nSchemselnihar, how happy do I think you, and how unhappy do I think\nmyself, when I compare your lot with my sad destiny! No doubt you\nwill suffer by my absence, but that is all, and you may comfort\nyourself with hopes of seeing me again; but as for me, just heaven!\nwhat a terrible trial am I brought to! I must not only be deprived\nof the sight of the only person whom I love, but I must be tormented\nwith the sight of one whom you have made hateful to me. --Will not\nthe arrival of the caliph put me in mind of your departure? And how\ncan I, when I am taken up with thinking on your dear image, express\nto that prince the joy which he always observed in my eyes, whenever\nhe came to see me? I shall have my mind perplexed when I speak to\nhim, and the least complaisance which I show to his love will stab\nme to the heart like a dagger. Can I relish his kind words and\ncaresses? --Think, prince, to what torments I shall be exposed when\nI can see you no more! Her tears and sighs hindered her from going\non, and the prince of Persia would have replied to her, but his own\ngrief, and that of his mistress, deprived him of the power of speech.\n\nEbn Thaher, who only wished to get out of the palace, was obliged to\ncomfort them, and to exhort them to have patience; but the trusty\nslave interrupted them: Madam, said she to Schemselnihar, you have\nno time to lose; the eunuchs begin to arrive, and you know the\ncaliph will be here immediately. O Heaven! how cruel is this\nseparation! cried the favourite: Make haste, said she, to the\nconfidant, carry them both to the gallery which looks into the\ngarden on the one side, and to the Tigris on the other: and when the\nnight grows dark, let them out by the back gate, that they may\nretire with safety. Having spoken thus, she tenderly embraced the\nprince of Persia, without being able to say one word more, and went\nto meet the caliph in such disorder as cannot well be imagined.\n\nIn the mean time the trusty slave carried the prince and Ebn Thaher\nto the gallery, as Schemselnihar had appointed: and having brought\nthem in, left them there, and shut the door upon them, after having\nassured them that they had nothing to fear, and that she would come\nfor them when it was time.\n\nWhen Schemselnihar\u2019s trusty slave left the prince of Persia and\nEbn Thaher, they forgot she had assured them that they needed not to\nbe afraid: they examined the gallery, and were seized with extreme\nfear, because they knew no means of escape if the caliph or any of\nhis officers should happen to come there.\n\nA great light, which came all of a sudden from the side of the\ngarden through the lattices, caused them to approach them to see\nfrom whence it came. It was occasioned by a hundred flambeaux of\nwhite wax, carried by as many young eunuchs; these were followed by\nmore than a hundred others, who guarded the ladies of the caliph\u2019s\npalace, clothed and armed with scimitars, in the same manner as\nthose I spoke of before; and the caliph came after them, betwixt\nMesrour their captain on his right, and Vassif their second officer\non his left hand.\n\nSchemselnihar waited for the caliph at the entry of a walk,\naccompanied with twenty women, all of surprising beauty, adorned\nwith necklaces and ear-rings of large diamonds, and others which\ncovered their heads entirely: they sung and played on their\ninstruments, and formed a charming concert. The favourite no sooner\nsaw the prince appear, but she advanced, and prostrated herself at\nhis feet; and while she was doing this, Prince of Persia, said she\nwithin herself, if your sad eyes witness what I do, judge of my hard\nlot; if I was humbling myself so before you, my heart would feel no\nreluctance.\n\nThe caliph was delighted to see Schemselnihar. Rise, madam, said he\nto her: come near: I am angry with myself that I should have\ndeprived myself so long of the pleasure of seeing you. As he spoke\nthus, he took her by the hand, and, with many tender expressions,\nwent and sat down upon the silver throne which Schemselnihar caused\nto be brought for him, and she sat down upon a seat before him; and\nthe twenty women made a circle round them upon other seats, while\nthe young eunuchs, who carried flambeaux, dispersed themselves at a\ncertain distance from one another, that the caliph might enjoy the\ncool of the evening the better.\n\nWhen the caliph sat down, he looked round him, and beheld with great\nsatisfaction the garden illuminated with a great many other lights,\nbesides those flambeaux which the young eunuchs held: but taking\nnotice that the saloon was shut, was astonished thereat, and\ndemanded the reason. It was done on purpose to surprise him; for he\nhad no sooner spoken, but all the windows flew open at once, he saw\nit illuminated within and without, in a much better manner than ever\nhe had seen it before. Charming Schemselnihar, cried he, at this\nsight, I understand you: you would have me to know there are as fine\nnights as days. After what I have seen, I cannot deny it.\n\nLet us return to the prince of Persia and Ebn Thaher, whom we left\nin the gallery. Ebn Thaher could not enough admire all that he saw:\nI am not very young, said he, and I have seen great entertainments\nin my time; but I do not think any thing can be seen so surprising\nand magnificent. All that is said of enchanted palaces does not come\nup to the prodigious spectacles we now see. What riches and\nmagnificence united!\n\nThe prince of Persia was not at all moved with those objects which\nso delighted Ebn Thaher; he could look on nothing but Schemselnihar,\nand the presence of the caliph threw him into an inconceivable\ngrief. Dear Ebn Thaher, said he, would to God I had my mind as much\nat liberty to attend to those objects of admiration as you! But,\nalas! I am in quite a different situation; all those objects serve\nonly to increase my torment. Can I see the caliph familiar with the\nobject of my love, and not die of grief? Must such a passionate love\nas mine be disturbed with so potent a rival? O heavens! How cruel\nand strange is my destiny! It is but a moment since I esteemed\nmyself the most fortunate lover in the world, and at this instant I\nfeel a death-stroke to my heart. I cannot resist it, my dear Ebn\nThaher; my patience is exhausted, my disorder overwhelms me, and my\ncourage fails. While he was speaking those words, he saw something\npass in the garden, which obliged him to keep silence, and to turn\nall his attention that way.\n\nThe caliph had ordered one of the women who was near him, to play\nupon her lute and she began to sing; the words that she sung were\nvery passionate, and the caliph, persuaded that she sung thus by\norder of Schemselnihar, who had frequently entertained him with the\nlike testimonies of her affections, interpreted them in his own\nfavour. But this was not now Schemselnihar\u2019s meaning; she applied\nit to her dear Ali Ebn Becar, and was so sensibly touched with\ngrief, to have before her an object whose presence she could no\nlonger enjoy, that she fainted and fell backwards upon her seat,\nwhich having no arms to support her, she must have fallen down, had\nnot some of the women given her timely assistance, taken her up, and\ncarried her into the saloon.\n\nEbn Thaher, who was in the gallery, being surprised at this\naccident, turned towards the prince of Persia; but, instead of\nseeing him stand and look through the window as before, he was\nextremely amazed to see him lying at his feet motionless. This\nconvinced him of the violence of that prince\u2019s passion for\nSchemselnihar, and he admired that strange effect of sympathy, which\nput him into a mortal fear, because of the place they were in. He\ndid all he could to recover the prince, but in vain. Ebn Thaher was\nin this perplexity, when Schemselnihar\u2019s confidant opened the\ngallery door, and came in out of breath, as one who knew not where\nshe was. Come speedily, cried she, that I may let you out: all is in\nconfusion here, and I fear this will be the last of our days. --Ah!\nhow would you have us go? replied Ebn Thaher, with a mournful voice;\ncome near, I pray you, and see what a condition the prince of Persia\nis in. When the slave saw him in a swoon, she ran in all haste for\nwater, and returned in an instant.\n\nAt last the prince of Persia, after they had thrown water on his\nface, recovered his spirits. Prince, said Ebn Thaher to him, we run\nthe risk of perishing, if we stay here any longer: exert yourself,\ntherefore; let us endeavour to save our lives. He was so feeble,\nthat he could not rise alone; Ebn Thaher and the confidant lent him\ntheir hands, and supported him on each side. They came to a little\niron gate which opens towards the Tigris, went out at it, and came\nto the side of a little canal which has a communication with the\nriver. The confidant clapped her hands, and immediately a little\nboat appeared, and came towards them with one rower. Ali Ebn Becar\nand his comrade went aboard, and the confidant staid at the side of\nthe canal. As soon as the prince sat down in the boat, he stretched\nout one hand towards the palace, and laying the other upon his\nheart, Dear object of my soul, cried he, with a feeble voice,\nreceive my faith with this hand, while I assure you with the other,\nthat my heart shall for ever preserve the fire with which it burns\nfor you.\n\nIn the mean time the boatman rowed with all his might, and\nSchemselnihar\u2019s confidant accompanied the prince of Persia and Ebn\nThaher, walking along the side of the canal, until they came to the\nTigris, and when she could go no further, she took leave of them,\nand returned.\n\nThe prince of Persia continued very feeble: Ebn Thaher comforted\nhim, and exhorted him to take courage. Consider, said he to him,\nthat when we are landed, we have a great way to go before we reach\nmy house; and I would not advise you to go to your lodging, which is\na great deal farther than mine, at this hour, and in this condition.\nAt last they went out of the boat, but the prince had so little\nstrength, that he could not walk, which put Ebn Thaher into great\nperplexity. He recollected he had a friend in the neighbourhood, and\ncarried the prince thither with great difficulty. His friend\nreceived him very cheerfully, and when he made them sit down, he\nasked them where they had been so late. Ebn Thaher answered him, I\nheard this evening that a man who owed me a considerable sum of\nmoney was setting out on a long voyage. I lost no time to find him,\nand by the way I met with this young nobleman whom you see, and to\nwhom I am under a thousand obligations; for, knowing my debtor, he\ndid me the favour to go along with me. We had a great deal of\ntrouble to bring the man to reason. We have at length succeeded, and\nthis is the cause of our being so late. In our return home, this\ngood lord, to whom I am for ever bound to show all possible respect,\nwas attacked by a sudden illness, which made me take the liberty to\nknock at your door, flattering myself that you would be pleased to\nlodge us this night.\n\nEbn Thaher\u2019s friend took all this for truth, told them they were\nwelcome, and offered the prince of Persia, whom he knew not, all the\nassistance he could desire; but Ebn Thaher spoke for the prince, and\nsaid, that his distemper was of that nature as required nothing but\nrest. His friend understood by this that they desired to go to bed.\nUpon which he conducted them to an apartment, where he left them.\n\nThough the prince of Persia slept, he was interrupted by troublesome\ndreams, which represented Schemselnihar in a swoon at the caliph\u2019s\nfeet, and increased his affliction. Ebn Thaher was very impatient to\nbe at home, and doubted not but his family was under great\napprehension, because he never used to sleep out. He arose and\ndeparted early in the morning, after he had taken leave of his\nfriend, who rose at break of day to prayers. At last he came home,\nand the first thing the prince of Persia did, who had walked so far\nwith much trouble, was to lie down upon a sofa, as weary as if he\nhad gone a long journey. Being not in a condition to go to his own\nhouse, Ebn Thaher ordered a chamber to be made ready for him, and\nsent to acquaint his friends with his condition and where he was. In\nthe mean time he begged him to compose himself, to command in his\nhouse, and to dispose of all things as he pleased. I thank you\nheartily for those obliging offers, said the prince of Persia; but\nthat I may not be any way troublesome to you, I conjure you to deal\nwith me as if I were not at your house. I would not stay one moment,\nif I thought my presence would incommode you in the least.\n\nAs soon as Ebn Thaher had time to recollect himself, he told his\nfamily all that had passed at Schemselnihar\u2019s palace, and\nconcluded by thanking God, who had delivered him from the danger he\nwas in. The prince of Persia\u2019s principal domestics came to receive\nhis orders at Ebn Thaher\u2019s house, and in a little time there\narrived several of his friends who had notice of his indisposition.\nThose friends passed the greatest part of the day with him; and\nthough their conversation could not extinguish those sad ideas which\nwere the cause of his trouble, yet it gave him some relief. He would\nhave taken his leave of Ebn Thaher towards the evening; but this\nfaithful friend found him still so weak, that he obliged him to stay\ntill next day, and in the mean time, to divert him, he gave him a\nconcert of vocal and instrumental music in the evening; but this\nconcert served only to put him in mind of the preceding night, and\nrenewed his trouble, instead of assuaging it; so that next day his\ndistemper seemed to increase. Upon this Ebn Thaher did not oppose\nhis going home, but took care to accompany him thither; and when he\nwas with him alone in his chamber, he represented to him all those\narguments which might influence him to a generous effort to overcome\nthat passion which in the end would neither prove lucky to himself\nnor to the favourite. Ah! dear Ebn Thaher, cried the prince, how\neasy is it for you to give this advice, but how hard is it for me to\nfollow it! I am sensible of its importance, but am not able to\nprofit by it. I have said already, that I shall carry to the grave\nwith me the love that I bear to Schemselnihar. When Ebn Thaher saw\nthat he could gain nothing upon the prince, he took his leave of\nhim, and would have retired.\n\nThe prince of Persia stopt him, and said, Kind Ebn Thaher, since I\nhave declared to you that it is not in my power to follow your wise\ncounsels, I beg you would not charge it on me as a crime, nor\nforbear to give me the usual testimonies of your friendship; you\ncannot do me a greater favour than to inform me of the destiny of my\ndear Schemselnihar, when you hear any news of her: the uncertainty I\nam in concerning her fate, and the mortal apprehensions her fainting\nhas occasioned in me, keep me in this languishing condition you\nreproach me with. --My lord, answered Ebn Thaher, you have reason to\nhope that her fainting was not attended with any bad consequences;\nher confidant will quickly come and inform me of the issue; and as\nsoon as I know the particulars, I will not fail to impart them.\n\nEbn Thaher left the prince in this hope, and returned home, where he\nexpected Schemselnihar\u2019s confidant all the rest of the day, but in\nvain; nor did she come next day. His uneasiness to know the state of\nthe prince of Persia\u2019s health would not suffer him to stay any\nlonger without seeing him; he went to his lodging to exhort him to\npatience, and found him lying on his bed as ill as ever, surrounded\nby a great many of his friends, and several physicians, who made use\nof all their art to discover the cause of his distemper. As soon as\nhe saw Ebn Thaher, he looked upon him smiling, to signify that he\nhad two things to tell him; the one, that he was glad to see him;\nthe other, how much the physicians, who could not discover the cause\nof his distemper, were out in their reasonings.\n\nHis friends and physicians retired one after another, so that Ebn\nThaher being alone with him, came near his bed to ask him how he did\nsince he saw him. I must tell you, answered the prince, that my\npassion, which continually gathers new strength, and the uncertainty\nof the lovely Schemselnihar\u2019s destiny, augment my distemper every\nmoment, and cast me into such a state, as afflicts my kindred and\nfriends, and breaks the measures of my physicians, who do not\nunderstand it. You cannot think, added he, how much I suffer by\nseeing so many people about me, who importune me, and whom I cannot\nin civility put away. Your company alone relieves me; but I conjure\nyou not to dissemble with me: What news do you bring me of\nSchemselnihar? Have you seen her confidant? What said she to you?\n--Ebn Thaher answered, that he had not seen her yet; and no sooner\nhad he told the prince of Persia this sad news, but the tears came\ninto his eyes; he could not answer one word, his heart was so\noppressed. Prince, added Ebn Thaher, suffer me to tell you, that you\nare too ingenious in tormenting yourself. In the name of God, wipe\naway your tears: if any of your people should come in, they would\ndiscover you by this, notwithstanding the care you ought to take to\nconceal your thoughts. Whatever this judicious confidant could say,\nit was not possible for the prince to refrain from weeping. Wise Ebn\nThaher, said he, when he had recovered his speech, I may indeed\nhinder my tongue from revealing the secrets of my heart, but I have\nno power over my tears, upon such an alarming subject as\nSchemselnihar\u2019s danger. If that adorable and only object of my\ndesires be no longer in the world, I shall not survive her a moment.\n--Reject so afflicting a thought, replied Ebn Thaher; Schemselnihar\nis yet alive, you need not doubt of it; if you have heard no news of\nher, it is because she could find no opportunity to send to you, and\nI hope you will hear from her to-day. To this he added several other\nconsoling arguments, and then withdrew.\n\nEbn Thaher was scarce at his own house when Schemselnihar\u2019s\nconfidant arrived with a melancholy countenance, which he reckoned a\nbad omen. He asked news of her mistress: Tell me yours first, said\nthe confidant, for I was in great trouble to see the prince of\nPersia go away in that condition. Ebn Thaher told her all that she\nwished to know, and when he had done, the slave began thus:-- If the\nprince of Persia, said she, has suffered, and does still suffer, for\nmy mistress, she suffers no less for him. After I departed from you,\ncontinued she. I returned to the saloon, where I found Schemselnihar\nnot yet recovered from her swoon, notwithstanding all the help they\nendeavoured to give her. The caliph was sitting near her with all\nthe signs of real grief; he asked all the women, and me in\nparticular, if we knew the cause of her distemper; but we kept all\nsecret, and told him we were altogether ignorant of it. In the mean\ntime, we all wept to see her suffer so long, and forgot nothing that\nmight any way help her. In a word, it was almost midnight before she\ncame to herself. The caliph, who had the patience to wait the event,\nwas rejoiced at her recovery, and asked Schemselnihar the cause of\nher distemper. As soon as she heard him speak, she endeavoured to\nrecover her seat; and after she had kissed his feet, before he could\nhinder her, Sir, said she, I have reason to complain of heaven, that\nit did not allow me to expire at your majesty\u2019s feet, to testify\nthereby how sensible I am of your favours.\n\nI am persuaded you love me, said the caliph to her, and I command\nyou to preserve yourself for my sake. You have probably exceeded in\nsomething to-day, which has occasioned this indisposition: take\ncare, I entreat you; abstain from it for the future. I am very glad\nto see you better, and I advise you to stay here to-night, and not\nto return to your chamber, for fear the motion affect you. He then\ncommanded a little wine to be brought her, in order to strengthen\nher; and taking leave of her, returned to his apartment.\n\nAs soon as the caliph was gone, my mistress gave me a sign to come\nnear her. She asked me earnestly concerning you; I assured her that\nyou had been gone a long time, which made her easy on that head: I\ntook care not to speak of the prince of Persia\u2019s fainting, lest it\nshould make her fall into the same state, from which we had so much\ntrouble to recover her; but my precautions were in vain, as you\nshall hear. Prince, said she, I henceforth renounce all pleasure us\nlong as I am deprived of the sight of you. If I have understood your\nheart right, I only follow your example. You will not cease to weep\nuntil you see me again; it is but just that I weep and mourn until I\nsee you. At these words, which she uttered in a manner expressive of\nthe violence of her passion, she fainted a second time in my arms.\n\nSchemselnihar\u2019s confidant continued to tell Ebn Thaher all that\nhad happened to her mistress after the first fainting. My companions\nand I, said she, were a long time recovering her; at last, she came\nto herself; and then I said to her, Madam, are you resolved to kill\nyourself, and to make us also die with you? I entreat you, in the\nname of the prince of Persia, who is so deeply interested in your\nlife, to preserve it, as you love yourself; be persuaded to this\neffort, as you love the prince, and for our fidelity to you. I am\nvery much obliged to you, replied she, for your care, your zeal, and\nyour advice; but, alas! they are useless to me: you are not to\nflatter us with any hopes, for we can expect no end of our torment\nbut in the grave.\n\nOne of my companions would have diverted these sad thought by\nplaying on the lute, but she commanded her to be silent, and ordered\nall of them to retire except me, whom she kept all night with her. O\nheavens! what a night it was! she passed it in tears and groans, and\nincessantly naming the prince of Persia. She lamented her lot, that\nhad destined her to the caliph, whom she could not love, and not for\nhim whom she loved so dearly.\n\nNext morning, because she was not commodiously lodged in the saloon,\nI helped her to her chamber, where she no sooner arrived than all\nthe physicians of the palace came to see her by order of the caliph,\nwho was not long in coming himself. The medicines which the\nphysicians prescribed to Schemselnihar were ineffectual, because\nthey were ignorant of the cause of her distemper; and the presence\nof the caliph augmented it. She got a little rest, however, this\nnight, and as soon as she awoke, she charged me to come to you, to\nhear news of the prince of Persia. I have already informed you of\nhis case, said Ebn Thaher; so return to your mistress, and assure\nher, that the prince of Persia waits for news from her with the like\nimpatience that she does from him; above all, exhort her to\nmoderation, and to overcome herself, for fear she drop before the\ncaliph some word which may prove fatal to us all. As for me, replied\nthe confidant, I confess I dread her transports; I have taken the\nliberty to tell her my mind, and am persuaded that she will not take\nit ill that I tell her again this from you.\n\nEbn Thaher, who had but just come from the prince of Persia\u2019s\nlodgings, thought it not convenient to return so soon, and neglect\nhis own important affairs, and therefore went not till the evening;\nthe prince was alone, and no better than in the morning; Ebn Thaher\nsaid he to him, as soon as he saw him, you have doubtless many\nfriends, but they do not know your worth, which you discover to me\nby your zeal, your care, and the trouble you give yourself to oblige\nme. I am confounded with all that you do for me with so great\naffection, and I know not how I shall be able to express my\ngratitude. Prince, answered Ebn Thaher, do not speak so, I entreat\nyou; I am ready, not only to give one of my eyes, to save one of\nyours, but to sacrifice my life for you. But this is not the present\nbusiness; I come to tell you that Schemselnihar sent her confidant\nto ask me about you, and at the same time, to inform me of her\ncondition. You may assure yourself, that I said nothing but what\nmight confirm the excess of your passion for her mistress, and the\nconstancy with which you love her. Then Ebn Thaher gave him a\nparticular account of all that had passed betwixt the trusty slave\nand him.\n\nThe prince listened with all the different emotions of fear,\njealousy, affection, and compassion, which this conversation could\ninspire him with, making upon every thing which he heard, all the\nafflicting or comforting reflections that so passionate a lover was\ncapable of.\n\nTheir conversation continued so long, that the night was far\nadvanced, so that the prince of Persia obliged Ebn Thaher to stay\nwith him. The next morning, as his trusty friend returned home,\nthere came to him a woman, whom he knew to be Schemselnihar\u2019s\nconfidant, and immediately she spoke to him thus: My mistress\nsalutes you, and I am come to entreat you in her name to deliver\nthis letter to the prince of Persia. The zealous Ebn Thaher took the\nletter, and returned to the prince, accompanied by the confidant\nslave.\n\nWhen Ebn Thaher entered the prince of Persia\u2019s house, with\nSchemselnihar\u2019s confidant, he prayed her to stay, and wait for him\na moment in the drawing room. As soon as the prince of Persia saw\nhim, he asked earnestly what news he had to tell him? The best you\ncan expect, answered Ebn Thaher. You are as dearly beloved as you\nlove; Schemselnihar\u2019s confidant is in your drawing room; she has\nbrought you a letter from her mistress, and waits for your orders to\ncome in. Let her come in, cried the prince, with a transport of joy;\nand so saying, he sat up to receive her.\n\nThe prince\u2019s attendants went from him as soon as they saw Ebn\nThaher, and left him alone with their master. Ebn Thaher went and\nopened the door himself, and brought in the confidant. The prince\nknew her, and received her with great politeness. My lord, said she\nto him, I am sensible of the affliction you have endured since I had\nthe honour to conduct you to the boat which waited to bring you\nback; but I hope the letter I have brought will contribute to your\ncure. So saying, she presented him the letter. He took it, and after\nhe had kissed it several times, he opened and read it as follows:\n\n\n\n\nA Letter from Schemselnihar to Ali Ebn Becar, Prince of Persia.\n\n\n\u2018The person who brings you this letter will give you a better\naccount concerning me than I can do, for I have not been myself\nsince I saw you; being deprived of your presence, I sought to\ndeceive myself by conversing with you by these ill-written lines,\nwith the same pleasure as if I had the good fortune to speak to you.\n\n\u2018It is said, that patience is a cure for all evils, but it\nheightens my sufferings, instead of relieving them. Although your\npicture be deeply engraven in my heart, my eyes, desire speedily\nonce more to see the original, and they will lose all their light if\nthey be any considerable time deprived of it. May I flatter myself\nthat yours have the same impatience to see me? Yes, I can; their\ntender glances have sufficiently discovered it to me. How happy,\nprince, should you and Schemselnihar both be, if our united desires\nwere not thwarted by invincible obstacles, which afflict me the more\nsensibly as they have that effect on you.\n\n\u2018Those thoughts which my fingers write, and which I express with\nincredible pleasure, repeating them again and again, proceed from\nthe bottom of my heart, and from the incurable wound which you have\nmade in it, a wound which I bless a thousand times, notwithstanding\nthe cruel torments I endure for your absence. I would reckon all\nthat opposes our love nothing, were I only allowed to see you\nsometimes with freedom; I should then enjoy you, and what could I\ndesire more?\n\n\u2018Do not imagine that I say more than I think. Alas! whatever\nexpressions I make use of, I feel that I think more than I can tell\nyou. My eyes, which are continually watching and weeping for your\nreturn; my afflicted heart, which desires you alone; the sighs that\nescape me as often as I think on you, that is every moment; my\nimagination, which represents no other object to me than my dear\nprince; the complaints that I make to heaven for the rigour of my\ndestiny; in a word, my grief, my distress, my torments, which give\nme no ease ever since I lost sight of you, will vouch for what I\nwrite.\n\n\u2018Am I not unhappy to be born to love, without hope of enjoying him\nwhom I love? This afflicting thought oppresses me so that I should\ndie were I not persuaded that you love me: but this sweet comfort\nbalances my despair, and preserves my life. Tell me that you love me\nalways; I will keep your letter carefully, and read it a thousand\ntimes a day; I should endure my afflictions with less impatience: I\npray heaven may cease to be angry at us, and grant us an opportunity\nto say, that we love one another without fear; and that we shall\nnever cease to love one another. Adieu. I salute Ebn Thaher, to whom\nwe are so much obliged.\u2019\n\nThe prince of Persia was not satisfied with reading the letter once;\nhe thought he had read it with too little attention, and therefore\nread it again with more leisure; and as he read, sometimes he\nuttered deep sighs, sometimes he shed tears, and sometimes he broke\nout into transports of joy and tenderness, as he was affected with\nwhat he read. In short, he could not keep his eyes off those\ncharacters drawn by so beloved a hand, and was beginning to read it\na third time, when Ebn Thaher observed to him, that the confidant\nhad no time to lose, and that he ought to think of giving an answer.\nAlas! cried the prince, how would you have me answer so kind a\nletter? In what terms shall I express myself in the disturbed state\nI am in? My mind is tossed with a thousand tormenting thoughts,\nwhich are lost the same moment they are conceived, to make way for\nothers. So long as my body is influenced by the impressions of my\nmind, how shall I be able to hold the paper, or guide my reed to\nwrite? [81]\n\nSo saying, he took out of a little desk which was near him, paper, a\ncane ready cut, and an inkhorn.\n\nThe prince of Persia, before he began to write, gave\nSchemselnihar\u2019s letter to Ebn Thaher, and prayed him to hold it\nopen while he wrote, that by casting his eyes upon it, he might the\nbetter see what to answer. He began to write; but the tears that\nfell from his eyes upon the paper, obliged him several times to\nstop, that they might fall the more freely. At last, he finished his\nletter, and giving it to Ebn Thaher, Read it, I pray, said he to\nhim, and do me the favour to see if the disorder of my mind has\nallowed me to give a favourable answer. Ebn Thaher took it, and read\nas follows:\n\n\n\n\nThe Prince of Persia\u2019s answer to Schemselnihar\u2019s Letter.\n\n\n\u2018I was plunged in the deepest grief when I received your letter,\nat the sight of which, I was transported with unspeakable joy; and\nat sight of the characters written by your lovely hand, my eyes were\nenlightened by a stronger light than they lost, when yours were\nclosed on a sudden at the feet of my rival. These words contained in\nyour kind letter are so many rays of light, which have dispelled the\ndarkness wherewith my soul was obscured; they show me how much you\nsuffer for love of me, and that you are not ignorant of what I\nendure for you, and thereby comfort me in my afflictions. On the one\nhand, they make me shed tears in abundance; and on the other, they\ninflame my heart with a fire which supports it, and prevents my\ndying of grief. I have not had one moment\u2019s rest since our cruel\nseparation. Your letter alone gave me some ease. I kept a mournful\nsilence till the moment I received it, and then it restored my\nspeech. I was buried in profound melancholy, but it inspired me with\njoy, which immediately appeared in my eyes and countenance. But my\nsurprise at receiving a favour which I had not yet deserved was so\ngreat, that I knew not how to begin to testify my thankfulness for\nit. In a word, after having kissed it several times as a precious\npledge of your goodness, I read it over and over, and was confounded\nat the excess of my good fortune. You would have me signify to you,\nthat I always love you. Ah! though I did not love you so perfectly\nas I do, I could not forbear adoring you, after all the marks you\nhave given me of a love so uncommon; yes, I love you my dear soul,\nand shall account it my glory to burn all my days with that sweet\nfire you have kindled in my heart. I will never complain of that\nardour with which I feel it consumes me: and how rigorous soever the\nevils be which I suffer, I will bear them with fortitude, in hopes\nto see you some time or other. Would to heaven it were to-day, and\nthat, instead of sending you my letter, I might be allowed to come\nand assure you, that I die for love of you! My tears hinder me from\nsaying any more. Adieu.\u2019\n\nEbn Thaher could not read those last lines without weeping. He\nreturned the letter to the prince of Persia, and assured him it\nwanted no correction. The prince closed it, and when he had sealed\nit, he desired the trusty slave to come near, and said to her, This\nis my answer to your dear mistress\u2019s letter. I conjure you to\ncarry it to her, and to salute her in my name. The slave took the\nletter, and retired with Ebn Thaher.\n\nAfter Ebn Thaher had walked some way with the slave, he left her,\nand went to his house, and began to think in earnest upon the\namorous intrigue into which he found himself unhappily engaged. He\nconsidered, that the prince of Persia and Schemselnihar,\nnotwithstanding their interest to conceal their correspondence,\nconducted themselves with so little discretion, that it could not be\nlong a secret. He drew all the consequences from it, which a man of\ngood sense ought to do. Were Schemselnihar, said he to himself, a\nlady of common rank, I would contribute all in my power to make her\nand her lover happy; but she is the caliph\u2019s favourite, and no man\ncan without danger attempt to engage the affections of the object of\nhis choice. His anger would fall in the first instance on\nSchemselnihar; it will next cost the prince of Persia his life, and\nI shall be involved in his misfortune. --In the mean time, I have my\nhonour, my quiet, my family, and my estate to preserve. I must,\nwhile I can, extricate myself out of such a risk.\n\nThese thoughts occupied his mind all that day; next morning, he went\nto the prince of Persia, with a design to make one more effort to\noblige him to conquer his passion. He represented to him what he had\nbefore represented in vain; that it would be much better for him to\ncall up all his resolution, to overcome his inclination for\nSchemselnihar, than to suffer himself to be hurried away by it; and\nthat his passion was so much the more dangerous, as his rival was\npowerful. In short, sir, added he, if you will hearken to me, you\nought to think of nothing but to triumph over your love; otherwise,\nyou run the risk of destroying yourself with Schemselnihar, whose\nlife ought to be dearer to you than your own. I give you this advice\nas a friend, for which you will some time or other thank me.\n\nThe prince heard Ebn Thaher with great impatience, but suffered him\nto speak his mind, and then replied to him thus: Ebn Thaher, said\nhe, do you think I can cease to love Schemselnihar, who loves me so\ntenderly? She is not afraid to expose her life for me, and would you\nhave me regard mine? No; whatever misfortunes befall me, I will love\nSchemselnihar to my last breath.\n\nEbn Thaher, shocked at the obstinacy of the prince of Persia, left\nhim hastily, and going to his own house, recalled to his mind his\nformer reflections, and began to think seriously what he should do.\nIn the mean time, a jeweller, one of his intimate friends, came to\nsee him. The jeweller had perceived that Schemselnihar\u2019s confidant\ncame oftener to Ebn Thaher than usual, and that he was constantly\nwith the prince of Persia, whose sickness was known to every one,\nthough not the cause of it. This had awakened the jeweller\u2019s\nsuspicions, and finding Ebn Thaher very pensive, he presently judged\nthat he was perplexed with some important affair, and fancying that\nhe knew the cause, he asked, what Schemselnihar\u2019s confidant wanted\nwith him? Ebn Thaher being struck with this question, would have\ndissembled, and told him, that it was for a trifle she came so\nfrequently to him. You do not tell me the truth, said the jeweller,\nand you think to persuade me, by your dissimulation, that this\ntrifle is a more important affair than at first I thought it to be.\nEbn Thaher perceiving that his friend pressed him so much, said to\nhim, it is true, that it is an affair of the greatest consequence! I\nhad resolved to keep it secret, but since I know how much you are my\nfriend, I choose rather to make you my confidant, than to suffer you\nto be under a mistake about it. --I do not recommend to you secrecy,\nfor you will easily judge by what I am going to tell you, how\nimportant it is to keep it. After this preamble, he told him the\namour between Schemselnihar, and the prince of Persia. You know,\ncontinued he, in what esteem I am at court, in the city, and with\nlords and ladies of the greatest quality; what a disgrace it would\nbe for me, should this rash amour come to be discovered? But what do\nI say; should not I and my family be completely ruined? That is what\nperplexes my mind; but I have just formed my resolution: I will go\nimmediately and satisfy my creditors, and recover my debts, and when\nI have secured my property, will retire to Balsora, and stay till\nthe storm that I foresee is blown over. My friendship for\nSchemselnihar and the prince of Persia makes me very sensible to\nwhat dangers they are exposed. I pray heaven to convince them of it,\nand to preserve them; but if their evil destiny should bring their\namours to the knowledge of the caliph, I shall, at least, be out of\nthe reach of his resentment; for I do not think them so wicked as to\ndesign to involve me in their misfortunes. It would be the height of\ningratitude, and a bad reward for the service I have done them, and\nthe good advice I have given them, particularly to the prince of\nPersia, who may save both himself and his mistress from this\nprecipice, if he pleases: he may as easily leave Bagdad as I; and\nabsence will insensibly disengage him from a passion, which will\nonly increase whilst he continues in this place.\n\nThe jeweller was extremely surprised at what Ebn Thaher told him.\nWhat you say to me, says he, is of so great importance, that I\ncannot understand how Schemselnihar and the prince could have\nabandoned themselves to such a violent passion; what inclination\nsoever they may have for one another, instead of yielding to it,\nthey ought to resist it, and make a better use of their reason. Is\nit possible they can be insensible of the dangerous consequence of\ntheir correspondence? How deplorable is their blindness! I perceive\nall the consequences of it as well as you; but you are wise and\nprudent, and I approve your resolution; the only way to deliver\nyourself from the fatal events which you have reason to fear. After\nthis conversation, the jeweller rose up, and took his leave of Ebn\nThaher.\n\nBefore the jeweller retired, Ebn Thaher conjured him by the\nfriendship betwixt them, to say nothing of this to any body. Fear\nnot, said the jeweller; I will keep this secret on peril of my life.\n\nTwo days after, the jeweller went to Ebn Thaher\u2019s shop, and seeing\nit shut, he doubted not but he had executed the design he spoke of;\nbut, to be more sure, he asked a neighbour, if he knew why it was\nshut? The neighbour answered that he knew not, unless Ebn Thaher was\ngone a journey. There was no need of his inquiring farther, and he\nimmediately thought of the prince of Persia: Unhappy prince, said he\nto himself, what will be your grief when you hear this news? How\nwill you now carry on your correspondence with Schemselnihar? I fear\nyou will die of despair. I pity you, and must make up your loss of a\ntoo timid confidant.\n\nThe business that obliged him to come abroad was of no consequence,\nso that he neglected it: and though he had no knowledge of the\nprince of Persia, but only by having sold him some jewels, he went\nto his house; he addressed himself to one of his servants, and\nprayed him to tell his master, that he desired to speak with him\nabout business of very great importance. The servant returned\nimmediately to the jeweller, and introduced him to the prince\u2019s\nchamber, who was leaning on a sofa, with his head upon a cushion. As\nsoon as the prince saw him, he rose up to receive and welcome him,\nand intreated him to sit down; asked if he could serve him in any\nthing, or if he came to tell him any thing interesting concerning\nhimself. Prince, answered the jeweller, though I have not the honour\nto be particularly acquainted with you, yet the desire of testifying\nmy zeal has made me take the liberty to come to your house, to\nimpart to you a piece of news that concerns you. I hope you will\npardon my boldness for my good intention.\n\nAfter this introduction, the jeweller entered upon the matter, and\ncontinued thus: Prince, I shall have the honour to tell you, that it\nis a long time since the conformity of disposition, and some\nbusiness we have had together, united Ebn Thaher and me in strict\nfriendship. I know you are acquainted with him, and that he has\nemployed himself in obliging you to his utmost; I have learnt this\nfrom himself for he keeps nothing secret from me, nor I from him. I\nwent just now to his shop, and was surprised to find it shut: I\naddressed myself to one of his neighbours, to ask the reason; he\nanswered me, that two days ago Ebn Thaher took leave of him, and\nother neighbours, offering them his service at Balsora, whither he\nis gone, said he, about an affair of great importance. Not being\nsatisfied with this answer, my concern for his welfare determined me\nto come and ask if you knew any thing particularly concerning this\nhis sudden departure.\n\nAt this discourse, which the jeweller accommodated to the subject,\nthe better to compass his design, the prince of Persia changed\ncolour, and looked at the jeweller in a manner which convinced him\nhow much he was disconcerted with the news. I am surprised at what\nyou inform me, said he; a greater misfortune could not befal me. Ah!\nsaid he, with tears in his eyes, if what you tell me be true, I am\nundone! Has Ebn Thaher, who was all my comfort, in whom I put all my\nconfidence, left me? I cannot think of living after so cruel a blow.\n\nThe jeweller needed no more to convince him fully of the prince of\nPersia\u2019s violent passion, which Ebn Thaher told him of: mere\nfriendship would not make him speak so; nothing but love could\nproduce such lively sensations.\n\nThe prince continued some moments absorbed in those melancholy\nthoughts; at last he lifted up his head, and calling one of his\nservants, Go, said he, to Ebn Thaher\u2019s house, and ask some of his\ndomestics if he be gone to Balsora: run, and come back quickly, and\ntell me what you hear. While the servant was gone, the jeweller\nendeavoured to entertain the prince of Persia with indifferent\nsubjects; but the prince gave little heed to him: he was a prey to\nfatal grief. Sometimes he could not persuade himself that Ebn Thaher\nwas gone, and at other times he did not doubt of it, when he\nreflected upon the conversation he had with him the last time he saw\nhim, and the abrupt manner in which he left him.\n\nAt last the prince\u2019s servant returned, and reported that he had\nspoken with one of Ebn Thaher\u2019s servants, who assured him that he\nhad been gone two days to Balsora. As I came from Ebn Thaher\u2019s\nhouse, added the servant, a slave well dressed met me; and after she\nhad asked me if I had the honour to belong to you, she told me she\nwanted to speak with you, and begged at the same time that she might\ncome along with me: she is in the outer room, and I believe she has\na letter to give you from some person of consequence. The prince\ncommanded her to be immediately introduced, not doubting but it was\nSchemselnihar\u2019s confidant slave, as indeed it was. The jeweller\nknew who she was, having seen her several times at Ebn Thaher\u2019s\nhouse. She could not have come in a better time to save the prince\nfrom despair. She saluted him.\n\nThe prince of Persia returned the salute of Schemselnihar\u2019s\nconfidant. The jeweller arose as soon as he saw her appear, and\nretired, to leave them at liberty to converse together. The\nconfidant, after she had conversed some time with the prince, took\nher leave and departed. She left him quite another person from what\nhe was before; his eyes appeared brighter, and his countenance more\ngay; which satisfied the jeweller that the good slave came to tell\nhim something favourable to his amour.\n\nThe jeweller having taken his place again near the prince, said to\nhim, smiling, I see, prince, you have business of importance at the\ncaliph\u2019s palace. The prince of Persia, astonished and alarmed at\nthis discourse, answered the jeweller, What leads you to suppose\nthat I have business at the caliph\u2019s palace? --I judge so, replied\nthe jeweller, by the slave that is gone forth. And to whom, think\nyou, belongs this slave? replied the prince. --To Schemselnihar, the\ncaliph\u2019s favourite, answered the jeweller. I know, continued he,\nboth the slave and her mistress, who has several times done me the\nhonour to come to my house and buy jewels. Besides, I know that\nSchemselnihar keeps nothing secret from this slave; and I have seen\nher go and come for several days along the streets, as I thought,\nvery much troubled: I imagined that it was for some affair of\nconsequence concerning her mistress.\n\nThe jeweller\u2019s words did much trouble the prince of Persia. He\nwould not say so, said he to himself, if he did not suspect, or\nrather was not acquainted with my secret. He remained silent for\nsome time, not knowing what course to take. At last he began, and\nsaid to the jeweller, You have told me things which make me believe\nthat you know yet more than you have acquainted me with; it concerns\nmy repose, that I be perfectly informed; I conjure you, therefore,\nnot to conceal any thing from me.\n\nThen the jeweller, who desired nothing more, gave him a particular\naccount of what had passed betwixt Ebn Thaher and himself: he let\nhim know that he was informed of his correspondence with\nSchemselnihar, and forgot not to tell him that Ebn Thaher, alarmed\nat the danger of being his confidant in the matter, had communicated\nto him his intention of retiring to Balsora, to stay there until the\nstorm which he dreaded should be blown over. This he has executed,\nadded the jeweller; and I am surprised how he could determine\nhimself to abandon you, in the condition he informed me you was in.\nAs for me, prince, I confess I am moved with compassion towards\nyou, and am come to offer you my service; and if you do me the\nfavour to accept of it, I engage myself to be as faithful to you as\nEbn Thaher; besides, I promise to be more resolute. I am ready to\nsacrifice my honour and life for you; and, that you may not doubt of\nmy sincerity, I swear by all that is sacred in our religion, to keep\nyour secret inviolable. Be persuaded then, prince, that you will\nfind in me the friend whom you have lost. This discourse encouraged\nthe prince, and comforted him under Ebn Thaher\u2019s absence. I am\nvery glad, said he to the jeweller, to find in you a reparation of\nmy loss: I want words to express the obligations I am under to you.\nI pray God to recompense your generosity, and I accept your obliging\noffer with all my heart. Believe me, continued he, Schemselnihar\u2019s\nconfidant came to speak to me concerning you: she told me that it\nwas you who advised Ebn Thaher to go from Bagdad: these were the\nlast words she spoke to me when she went away, and she seemed\npersuaded of what she said; but they do not do you justice. I doubt\nnot, after what you have told me, she is deceived. Prince, replied\nthe jeweller, I have had the honour to give you a faithful account\nof my conversation with Ebn Thaher. It is true, when he told me he\nmeant to retire to Balsora, I did not oppose his design, but said he\nwas a wise and prudent man; but let not this prevent your putting\nconfidence in me. I am ready to serve you with all imaginable zeal.\nIf you do not make any use of my service, this shall not hinder me\nfrom keeping your secret religiously, according to my oath. --I have\nalready told you, replied the prince, that I did not believe what\nthe confidant said: it is her zeal which inspired her with this\ngroundless suspicion, and you ought to excuse it, as I do.\n\nThey continued their conversation for some time, and consulted\ntogether about the most convenient means to keep up the prince\u2019s\ncorrespondence with Schemselnihar. They agreed to begin by\nundeceiving the confidant, who was so unjustly prepossessed against\nthe jeweller. The prince engaged to remove her mistake the first\ntime he saw her again, and to entreat her to address herself to the\njeweller whenever she might bring letters, or any other information,\nfrom her mistress to him. In short, they agreed that she ought not\nto come so frequently to the prince\u2019s house, because thereby she\nmight lead to the discovery of what it was of so great importance to\nconceal. At last the jeweller arose, and after having again\nentreated the prince of Persia to place an unreserved confidence in\nhim, he withdrew.\n\nThe jeweller returning to his house, perceived before him a letter,\nwhich somebody had dropped in the street. He took it up, and as it\nwas not sealed, he opened it, and found it conceived in these terms:\n\n\n\n\nA Letter from Schemselnihar to the Prince of Persia.\n\n\n\u2018I learn from my confidant a piece of news, which gives me no less\nconcern than it must give you. By losing Ebn Thaher, we have indeed\nsuffered a great loss; but let not this hinder you, dear prince,\nfrom thinking to preserve yourself. If our confidant has abandoned\nus through a panic fear, let us consider that it is a misfortune\nwhich we could not avoid. I confess Ebn Thaher has left us at a time\nwhen we most needed his assistance; but let us fortify ourselves by\npatience against the unexpected stroke, and let us not forbear to\nlove one another constantly. Fortify your heart against this\nmisfortune. The object of our wishes is not to be obtained without\ntrouble. Let us not be discouraged, but hope that heaven will favour\nus: and that, after so many afflictions, we shall see a happy\naccomplishment of our desires. Adieu.\u2019\n\nWhile the jeweller was conversing with the prince of Persia, the\nconfidant had time to return to the palace, and communicate to her\nmistress the ill news of Ebn Thaher\u2019s departure. Schemselnihar\nimmediately wrote this letter, and sent back her confidant with it\nto the prince of Persia, but she negligently dropped it.\n\nThe jeweller was glad to find it, for it furnished him with an\nopportunity of justifying himself to the confidant, and bringing her\nto the point he desired. When he had read it, he perceived the slave\nseeking for it with the greatest anxiety, and looking about every\nwhere. He closed it again quickly, and put it into his bosom; but\nthe slave observed him, and running to him, --Sir, said she, I have\ndropped a letter, which you had just now in your hand; I beseech you\nto restore it. The jeweller, taking no notice that he heard her,\ncontinued his way till he came to his house. He did not shut the\ndoor after him, that the confidant, who followed him, might come in.\nShe did so; and when she came to his chamber, Sir, said she to him,\nyou can make no use of that letter you have found; and you would not\nhesitate to return it to me, if you knew from whom it came, and to\nwhom it is directed. Besides, allow me to tell you, you cannot\nhonestly keep it.\n\nBefore the jeweller answered the confidant, he made her sit down,\nand then he said to her, Is not this letter from Schemselnihar, and\nis it not directed to the prince of Persia? The slave, who expected\nno such question, blushed. The question embarrasses you, replied he;\nbut I assure you I do not put it rashly. I could have given you the\nletter in the street, but I wished you to follow me, on purpose that\nI might come to some explanation with you. Is it just, tell me, to\nimpute an unhappy accident to people who no ways contributed towards\nit? Yet this you have done, in telling the prince of Persia that it\nwas I who advised Ebn Thaher to leave Bagdad for his own safety. I\ndo not intend to lose time in justifying myself to you; it is enough\nthat the prince of Persia is fully persuaded of my innocence in this\nmatter: I will only tell you, that instead of contributing to Ebn\nThaher\u2019s departure, I have been extremely afflicted at it; not so\nmuch from my friendship to him, as out of compassion for the\ncondition he left the prince of Persia in, whose correspondence with\nSchemselnihar he has discovered to me. As soon as I knew certainly\nthat Ebn Thaher was gone from Bagdad, I went and presented myself to\nthe prince, in whose house you found me, to inform him of this news,\nand to offer him the same service which he did him; and provided you\nput the same confidence in me that you did in Ebn Thaher, it will be\nyour own fault if you do not make my assistance of use to you.\nInform your mistress of what I have told you; and assure her that\nthough I should die for engaging in so dangerous an intrigue, I\nshould not repent of having sacrificed myself for two lovers so\nworthy of one another.\n\nThe confidant, after having heard the jeweller with great\nsatisfaction, begged him to pardon the ill opinion she had conceived\nof him, for the zeal she had for her mistress\u2019s interest. I am\nbeyond measure glad, added she, that Schemselnihar and the prince\nhave found in you a person so fit to supply Ebn Thaher\u2019s place. I\nwill not fail to convince my mistress of the good will you bear her.\n\nAfter the confidant had testified to the jeweller her joy to see him\nso well disposed to serve Schemselnihar and the prince of Persia,\nthe jeweller took the letter out of his bosom, and restored it to\nher, saying, Go, carry it quickly to the prince of Persia, and come\nback this way, that I may see the answer. Forget not to give him an\naccount of our conversation.\n\nThe confidant took the letter and carried it to the prince, who\nanswered it immediately. She returned to the jeweller\u2019s house to\nshow him the answer, which was in these words:\n\n\n\n\nThe Prince of Persia\u2019s Answer to Schemselnihar.\n\n\n\u2018Your precious letter had a great effect upon me, but not so great\nas I could have wished. You endeavour to comfort me for the loss of\nEbn Thaher; alas! however sensible I am of this, it is but the least\nof my troubles. You know these troubles, and you know also that your\npresence alone can cure me. When will the time come that I shall\nenjoy it without fear of being deprived of it? how long does it seem\nto me! or shall we flatter ourselves that we may ever see it? You\ncommand me to preserve myself; I will obey you, since I have\nrenounced my own will to follow only yours. Adieu.\u2019\n\nAfter the jeweller had read this letter, he gave it again to the\nconfidant; who said, as she was going away, I will desire my\nmistress to put the same confidence in you that she did in Ebn\nThaher: you shall hear of me to-morrow. Accordingly next day she\nreturned with a pleasant countenance. Your very looks, said he to\nher, inform me that you have brought Schemselnihar to the point you\nwished for. It is true, said the confidant, and you shall hear how I\neffected it. I found yesterday, continued she, Schemselnihar\nexpecting me with impatience; I gave her the prince of Persia\u2019s\nletter, and she read it with tears in her eyes; and when she had\ndone, I saw that she had abandoned herself to her usual sorrow.\nMadam, said I to her, it is doubtless Ebn Thaher\u2019s removal that\ntroubles you; but suffer me to conjure you, in the name of God, to\nalarm yourself no farther on that head. We have found another who\noffers himself to oblige you with equal zeal, and, what is yet more\nimportant, with greater courage. Then I spoke to her of you,\ncontinued the slave, and acquainted her with the motive which led\nyou to the prince of Persia\u2019s house: in short, I assured her that\nyou would inviolably keep the secret betwixt her and the prince of\nPersia, and that you was resolved to favour their amour with all\nyour might. She seemed to be much relieved by my discourse. Ah! what\nobligations, said she, are the prince of Persia and I under to that\nhonest man you speak of! I must be acquainted with him and see him,\nthat I may hear from his own mouth what you tell me, and thank him\nfor such an unheard-of piece of generosity towards persons that he\nis no way obliged to concern himself with. The sight of him will\ngive me pleasure, and I shall omit nothing to confirm him in those\ngood sentiments. Fail not to bring him to me to-morrow. Therefore,\nsir, be so good as to go with me to the palace.\n\nThe confidant\u2019s discourse perplexed the jeweller. Your mistress,\nreplied he, must allow me to say, that she has not duly considered\nwhat she requires of me. Ebn Thaher\u2019s access to the caliph gave\nhim admission every where, and the officers who knew him, allowed\nhim free access to Schemselnihar\u2019s palace; but as for me, how dare\nI enter? You see clearly that it is impossible. I entreat you to\nrepresent to Schemselnihar the reasons which prevent me from giving\nher that satisfaction, and acquaint her with all the ill\nconsequences that would attend it. If she considers it ever so\nlittle, she would find that it would expose me needlessly to very\ngreat danger.\n\nThe confidant endeavoured to encourage the jeweller: Can you\nbelieve, said she, that Schemselnihar is so unreasonable as by\nbringing you to her, to expose you to the least danger, from which\nshe expects so important services? Consider with yourself that there\nis not the least appearance of risk for you; my mistress and I are\ntoo much interested in this affair to involve you in any danger. You\nmay depend upon me, and leave yourself to my conduct. After the\nthing is over, you will be the first to confess that your fear was\ngroundless.\n\nThe jeweller yielded to the confidant\u2019s discourse, and rose up to\nfollow her; but notwithstanding his boasted courage, he was seized\nwith such terror, that his whole body trembled. In your present\nstate, said she, I perceive it will be better for you to stay at\nhome, and that Schemselnihar should take other measures to see you.\nIt is not to be doubted, but that to satisfy her desire, she will\ncome hither herself; the case being so, sir, I would not have you\ngo. I am persuaded it will not be long ere you see her come to you.\nThe confidant foresaw this; for she no sooner informed Schemselnihar\nof the jeweller\u2019s fear, but she prepared to go to his house.\n\nHe received her with all the expressions of profound respect. When\nshe sat down, being a little fatigued with coming, she unveiled\nherself, and let the jeweller see such beauty, as convinced him that\nthe prince of Persia was excusable in giving his heart to the\ncaliph\u2019s favourite. Then she saluted the jeweller with a graceful\nair, and said to him, I could not hear with what zeal you have\nengaged in the prince of Persia\u2019s concerns and mine, without\nimmediately forming a design to express my gratitude in person. I\nthank heaven for having so soon made up Ebn Thaher\u2019s loss.\n\nSchemselnihar said many other obliging things to the jeweller, after\nwhich, she returned to her palace. The jeweller went immediately to\ngive an account of this visit to the prince of Persia, who said to\nhim as soon as he saw him, I have expected you impatiently. The\ntrusty slave has brought me a letter from her mistress, but it does\nnot relieve me. Whatever the lovely Schemselnihar says, I dare not\nhope for any thing; my patience is at an end; I know not now what\nmeasures to take. Ebn Thaher\u2019s departure makes me despair: he was\nmy only support --I lost all by losing him; I flattered myself with\nsome hopes by reason of his access to Schemselnihar.\n\nAfter these words, which the prince pronounced with so much\neagerness, that he gave the jeweller no time to interrupt him, he\nsaid to the prince, No man can take more interest in your affliction\nthan I do; and if you will have patience to hear me, you will\nperceive that I can relieve you. Upon this, the prince held his\npeace, and listened to him. I see very well, said the jeweller, that\nthe only way to give you satisfaction is to fall upon a plan that\nwill afford you an opportunity to converse freely with\nSchemselnihar. This I wish to procure you, and tomorrow will set\nabout it. You must by no means expose yourself to enter\nSchemselnihar\u2019s palace; you know by experience the danger of that\nstep: I know a fitter place for this interview, where you will be\nsafe. When the jeweller had finished speaking, the prince embraced\nhim with transports of joy. You revive, said he, by this charming\npromise, a wretched lover, who was condemned to die. I see that you\nhave fully repaired the loss of Ebn Thaher: whatever you do will be\nwell done; I leave myself entirely to your conduct.\n\nAfter the prince had thus thanked him for his zeal, the Jeweller\nreturned home, and next morning Schemselnihar\u2019s confidant came to\nhim. He told her that he had given the prince of Persia hopes that\nhe should see Schemselnihar speedily. I am come on purpose, answered\nshe, to concert measures with you for that end. I think, continued\nshe, this house will be convenient enough for their interview. I\ncould receive them very well here, replied he; but I think they will\nhave more liberty in another house of mine, where nobody lives at\npresent; I will quickly furnish it for their reception. There\nremains nothing then for me to do, replied the confidant, but to\nbring Schemselnihar to consent to it. I will go and speak to her,\nand return speedily with an answer.\n\nShe was as diligent as her promise; and returning to the jeweller,\ntold him that her mistress would not fail to keep the appointment in\nthe evening. In the mean time, she gave him a purse, and told him it\nwas to prepare a collation. He carried her immediately to the house\nwhere the lovers were to meet, that she might know whither to bring\nher mistress; and when she was gone, he went to borrow from his\nfriends gold and silver plate, tapestry, rich cushions, and other\nfurniture, with which he furnished the house very magnificently; and\nwhen he had put all things in order, he went to the prince of Persia.\n\nYou may easily conceive the prince of Persia\u2019s joy, when the\njeweller told him that he came to conduct him to the house he had\nprepared to receive him and Schemselnihar. This news made him forget\nall his former troubles. He put on a magnificent robe, and went\nwithout his retinue along with the jeweller, who led him through\nseveral by-streets, that nobody might observe them, and at last\nbrought him to the house, where they conversed together until\nSchemselnihar came.\n\nThey did not stay long for this passionate lover; she came after\nevening prayer with her confidant and two other slaves. It is\nimpossible to express the excess of joy that seized those two lovers\nwhen they saw one another: they sat down together upon a sofa,\nlooking upon one another for some time, without being able to speak,\nthey were so much overjoyed, but when their speech returned, they\nsoon made up for their silence. They said to each other so many\ntender things, as made the jeweller, the confidant, and the two\nother slaves weep. The jeweller, however, restrained his tears, to\nattend to the collation, which he brought in himself. The lovers ate\nand drank little, after which they sat down again upon the sofa.\nSchemselnihar asked the jeweller if he had a lute, or any other\ninstrument. --The jeweller, who took care to provide all that could\nplease her, brought her a lute; she spent some time in tuning it,\nand then sung.\n\nWhile Schemselnihar was charming the prince of Persia, and\nexpressing her passion by words composed extempore, a great noise\nwas heard, and immediately the slave whom the jeweller had brought\nwith him, came in a great fright, to tell him, that some people were\nbreaking in at the gate, that he asked who it was, but instead of\nany answer, the blows were redoubled. The jeweller being alarmed,\nleft Schemselnihar and the prince to go and inform himself of the\ntruth of this bad news. No sooner was he got into the court, than he\nsaw, notwithstanding the darkness of the night, a company of men,\narmed with bayonets and scimitars, who had broken the gate, and came\ndirectly towards him. He stood close to a wall for fear of his life,\nand saw ten of them pass without being perceived by them. Finding he\ncould give no great assistance to the prince of Persia and\nSchemselnihar, he contented himself with lamenting their fate, and\nfled for refuge to a neighbour\u2019s house, who was not yet gone to\nbed. He did not doubt but this unexpected violence was by the\ncaliph\u2019s order, who, he thought, had been informed of his\nfavourite\u2019s meeting the prince of Persia there. He heard a great\nnoise in his own house, which continued till midnight; and when all\nwas quiet, as he thought, he desired his neighbour to lend him a\nscimitar; and being thus armed, went on till he came to the gate of\nhis own house. He entered the court full of fear, and perceived a\nman, who asked him who he was; he knew by his voice, that it was his\nown slave. How did you manage, said he, to avoid being taken by the\nwatch? Sir, answered the slave, I hid myself in a corner of the\ncourt, and I went out so soon as I heard the noise. But it was not\nthe watch who broke into your house; they were robbers, who, within\nthese few days, robbed another house in the neighbourhood; they,\ndoubtless, had notice of the rich furniture you brought hither, and\nhad that in view.\n\nThe jeweller thought his slave\u2019s conjecture probable enough; he\nvisited the house, and saw that the robbers had taken all the\nfurniture out of the chamber where he received Schemselnihar and her\nlover; that they had also carried off the gold and silver plate,\nand, in a word, had left nothing. --Being in this condition, O\nheaven! cried he, I am irrecoverably undone! What will my friends\nsay, and what excuse can I make, when I shall tell them that the\nrobbers have broken into my house, and robbed me of all they had\ngenerously lent me? I shall never be able to make up their loss.\nBesides, what is become of Schemselnihar and the prince of Persia?\nThis business will be so public, that it will be impossible but it\nmust reach the caliph\u2019s ears. He will get notice of this meeting,\nand I shall fall a sacrifice to his fury! The slave, who was very\nmuch attached to him, endeavoured to comfort him. As to\nSchemselnihar, said he, the robbers probably would content\nthemselves with stripping her, and you have reason to think, that\nshe is retired to her palace with her slaves. The prince of Persia\nis probably in the same condition; so that you have reason to hope\nthe caliph will never know this adventure. As for the loss your\nfriends have sustained, that is a misfortune that you could not\navoid. They know very well the robbers are numerous, that they have\nnot only pillaged the house I have already spoken of, but many other\nhouses of the principal noblemen of the court; and they are not\nignorant, that notwithstanding the orders given to apprehend them,\nnobody has been yet able to seize any of them. You will be acquitted\nby restoring your friends the value of the things that are stolen,\nand blessed be God, you will have enough left.\n\nWaiting till day, the jeweller ordered the slave to mend the street\ndoor, which was broken, as well as he could; after which he returned\nto his usual residence with his slave, making melancholy reflections\nupon what had happened. Ebn Thaher, said he to himself, has been\nwiser than I: he foresaw the misfortune into which I have blindly\nthrown myself; would to God I had never meddled in this intrigue,\nwhich will, perhaps, cost me my life!\n\nIt was scarce day when the report of the robbery spread through the\ncity, and a great many of his friends and neighbours came to his\nhouse to express their concern for his misfortune, but were curious\nto know the particulars. He thanked them for their affection, and\nhad at least the consolation, that he heard nobody mention\nSchemselnihar or the prince of Persia, which made him believe they\nwere at their houses, or in some secure place.\n\nWhen the jeweller was alone, his servants brought him something to\neat, but he could not eat a bit. About noon one of his slaves came\nto tell him there was a man at the gate, whom he knew not, that\ndesired to speak with him. The jeweller, not choosing to receive a\nstranger into his house, rose up, and went to speak with him. Though\nyou do not know me, said the man, yet I know you, and I am come to\ntalk to you about an important affair. The jeweller desired him to\ncome in. No, answered the stranger; if you please, rather take the\ntrouble to go with me to your other house. How know you, replied the\njeweller, that I have another house? I know very well, answered the\nstranger; follow me, and do not fear any thing: I have something to\ncommunicate to you which will please you. The jeweller went\nimmediately with him; and after he had considered by the way how the\nhouse they were going to was robbed, he said to him, that it was not\nfit to receive him.\n\nWhen they were before the house, and the stranger saw the gate half\nbroken down, said he to the jeweller, I see you have told me the\ntruth; I will carry you to a place where we shall be better\naccommodated. --When he had said this, he went on, and walked all\nthe rest of the day without stopping. The jeweller being weary with\nwalking, vexed to see night approach, and that the stranger went on\nwithout telling him where he was going, began to lose his patience,\nwhen they came to a path which led to the Tigris; and as soon as\nthey came to the river, they embarked in a little boat, and went\nover. The stranger led the jeweller through a long street, where he\nhad never been before in his life: and after he had brought him\nthrough I know not how many by-streets, he stopped at a gate, which\nhe opened. He caused the jeweller to go in: then he shut and bolted\nthe gate with a huge iron bolt, and conducted him to a chamber,\nwhere there were ten other men, all of them as great strangers to\nthe jeweller as he that brought him hither.\n\nThese ten men received the jeweller without any compliments. They\nbade him sit down, of which he had great need: for he was not only\nout of breath with walking so far, but the fear he was in, to find\nhimself with people whom he thought he had reason to be afraid of,\nwould have disabled him from standing. They waited for their leader\nto go to supper, and as soon as he came it was served up. They\nwashed their hands, obliged the jeweller to do the like, and to sit\nat table with them. After supper, the men asked him if he knew whom\nhe spoke to? He answered, No, and that he knew not the place he was\nin. Tell us your last night\u2019s adventure, said they to him, and\nconceal nothing from us. The jeweller, being astonished at this\ndiscourse, answered, Gentlemen, it is probable you know it already.\nThat is true, replied they; the young man and the young lady, who\nwere at your house yester-night, told it us; but we would know it\nfrom your own mouth. The jeweller needed no more to inform him that\nhe spoke to the robbers who had broken into and plundered his house.\nGentlemen, said he, I am much troubled for that young man and lady;\ncan you give me any tidings of them?\n\nUpon the jeweller\u2019s inquiry of the thieves, if they knew any thing\nof the young man and the young lady, they answered, Be not concerned\nfor them --they are safe and well. So saying, they showed him two\nclosets, where they assured him they were separately shut up. They\nadded, We are informed you alone know what relates to them, which we\nno sooner came to understand, but we showed them all imaginable\nrespect, and were so far from doing them any injury, that we treated\nthem with all possible kindness on your account. We answer for the\nsame, proceeded they, for your own person; you may put unlimited\nconfidence in us.\n\nThe jeweller being encouraged at this, and overjoyed to hear that\nthe prince of Persia and Schemselnihar were safe, resolved to engage\nthe robbers yet farther in their interest. He commended them,\nflattered them, and gave them a thousand benedictions. --Gentlemen,\nsaid he, I must confess I have not the honour to know you, yet it is\nno small happiness to me that I am not wholly unknown to you; and I\ncan never be sufficiently grateful for the favours which that\nknowledge has procured me at your hands. Not to mention your great\nhumanity, I am fully persuaded now that persons of your character\nare capable of keeping a secret faithfully; and none are so fit to\nundertake a great enterprise, which you can best bring to a good\nissue by your zeal, courage, and intrepidity. Confiding in these\nqualities, which are so much your due, I hesitate not to tell you my\nwhole history, with that of those two persons you found in my house,\nwith all the fidelity you desire me.\n\nAfter the jeweller had thus secured, as he thought, the confidence\nof the robbers, he made no scruple to relate to them the whole amour\nof the prince of Persia and Schemselnihar, from the beginning of it\nto the time he received them into his house.\n\nThe robbers were greatly astonished at all the particulars they\nheard, and could not forbear crying out, How! is it possible that\nthe young man should be the illustrious Ali Ebn Becar, prince of\nPersia, and the young lady the fair and celebrated beauty\nSchemselnihar? The jeweller assured them nothing was more certain,\nand that they needed not to think it strange, that persons of so\ndistinguished a character should wish not to be known.\n\nUpon this assurance of their quality, the robbers went immediately,\none after another, and threw themselves at their feet, imploring\ntheir pardon, and protesting that nothing of the kind would have\nhappened to them, had they been informed of the quality of their\npersons before they broke into the house; and that they would by\ntheir future conduct endeavour to make amends for the crime they had\nthus ignorantly committed. Then turning to the jeweller, they told\nhim, they were heartily sorry they could not restore to him all that\nhad been taken from him, part of it being no longer in their\npossession; but as for what remained, if he would content himself\nwith his plate, it should be forthwith put into his hand.\n\nThe jeweller was overjoyed at the favour done him, and after the\nrobbers had delivered to him the plate, they required of the prince,\nSchemselnihar, and him, to promise them upon oath, that they would\nnot betray them, and they would carry them to a place whence they\nmight easily go to their respective homes. The prince,\nSchemselnihar, and the jeweller, replied, that they might rely on\ntheir words; but, since they desired an oath of them, they solemnly\nswore not to discover them. The thieves, satisfied with this,\nimmediately went out with them.\n\nBy the way, the jeweller, uneasy at not seeing the confidant and the\ntwo slaves, came up to Schemselnihar, and begged her to inform him\nwhat was become of them. She answered, she knew nothing of them, and\nthat all she could tell him was, that she was carried away from his\nhouse, ferried over the river, and brought to the place from whence\nthey were just now come.\n\nSchemselnihar and the jeweller had no farther discourse: they let\nthe robbers conduct them with the prince to the river\u2019s side, when\nthe robbers immediately took boat, and carried them over to the\nother side.\n\nWhile the prince, Schemselnihar, and the jeweller, were landing,\nthey heard the noise of the horse-patrol coming towards them, just\nas the boat arrived, and had conveyed the robbers back by dint of\nrowing.\n\nThe commander of the brigade demanded of the prince, Schemselnihar,\nand the jeweller, who they were, and whence they came so late.\nFrightened as they were, and apprehensive of saying any thing that\nmight prejudice them, they could not speak; but at length it was\nnecessary they should: the jeweller found his tongue, his mind being\nfreer, and said, Sir, I can assure you, we are very honest people of\nthe city, and that those people who have just landed us, and are got\nback to the other side of the water, are thieves, who having last\nnight broken open the house where we were, pillaged it, and\nafterwards carried us to their quarters, where, by fair words, we\nprevailed on them to let us have our liberty; and they brought us\nhither. They have restored us part of the booty they had taken from\nus. At which words he showed the parcel of plate he had recovered.\n\nThe commander, not satisfied with what the jeweller had told him,\ncame up to him and the prince of Persia, and looking stedfastly at\nthem, said, Tell me truly, who is this lady? How came you to know\nher? and whereabouts do you live?\n\nThis question embarrassed them so much, that neither of them could\nanswer; till at length Schemselnihar extricated them from their\ndifficulty, and taking the commander aside, told him who she was;\nwhich he no sooner knew, but he alighted with great expressions of\nrespect and politeness, and ordered his men to bring two boats.\n\nWhen the boats were come, he put Schemselnihar into one, and the\nprince of Persia and the jeweller into the other, with two of his\npeople in each boat; with orders to accompany each of them\nwhithersoever they were bound. The two boats took different routes;\nbut we shall at present speak only of that wherein was the prince\nand jeweller.\n\nThe prince, to save his guides trouble, bid them land the jeweller\nat his house, naming the place. The guide, by this direction,\nstopped just before the caliph\u2019s palace, which put both him and\nthe jeweller into a mortal fright, though he durst not show it:\nalthough they had heard the commander\u2019s orders to his men, they\ncould not help imagining they were to be delivered up to the guard,\nto be brought before the caliph next morning.\n\nThis, nevertheless, was not the intention of the guides; for after\nthey had landed them, they, by their master\u2019s command, recommended\nthem to an officer of the caliph\u2019s guard, who assigned them two\nsoldiers to conduct them by land to the prince\u2019s house, which was\nat some distance from the river. They arrived there, but so tired\nand weary that they could hardly move.\n\nThe prince being come home, with the fatigue of his journey, and\nthis misadventure to himself and Schemselnihar, which deprived him\nof all hope of ever seeing her more, fell into a swoon on his sofa.\nWhile the greatest part of his servants were endeavouring to recover\nhim, the rest gathered about the jeweller, and begged him to tell\nthem what had happened to the prince their lord, whose absence had\noccasioned them such inexpressible uneasiness.\n\nWhilst the greatest part of the prince\u2019s domestics were\nendeavouring to recover him from his swoon, others of them were got\nabout the jeweller, desiring to know what had happened to their\nlord. The jeweller, who took care to discover nothing to them that\nwas not proper for them to know, told them it was an extraordinary\ncase, but that it was not a time to relate it, and that they would\ndo better to go and assist the prince. By good fortune the prince\ncame to himself that moment, and those that had but just before\nrequired his history with so much earnestness, began to keep a\nrespectful distance, and pay that respect which was due from them.\n\nAlthough the prince had in some measure recovered his senses, he\ncontinued so weak, that he could not open his mouth to speak. He\nanswered only by signs, even to his nearest relations, when they\nspoke to him. He remained in the same condition till next morning,\nwhen the jeweller came to take leave of him. His answer was only\nwith a wink, and holding forth his right hand; but when he saw he\nwas laden with the bundle of plate which the thieves had returned to\nhim, he made a sign to his servants that they should take it and\ncarry it to his house.\n\nThe jeweller had been expected with great impatience by his family\nthe day he went forth with a man who came to ask for him, and whom\nhe did not know; but now he was quite given over, and it was no\nlonger doubted but some disaster had befallen him. His wife,\nchildren, and servants, were in the greatest alarm, and were\nlamenting him. When he arrived, their joy was very great; yet they\nwere troubled to see that he was so much altered in the short\ninterval, that he was hardly to be known. This was occasioned by the\ngreat fatigue of the preceding day, and the fears he had undergone\nall night, which would not let him sleep. Finding himself much\ndisordered, he continued at home two days, and would admit only one\nof his intimate friends to visit him.\n\nThe third day, finding himself something better, he thought he might\nrecover strength by going abroad to take the air; and therefore went\nto the shop of a rich merchant his acquaintance, with whom he\ncontinued long in discourse. As he was rising to take leave of his\nfriend and go home, he observed a woman making a sign to him, whom\nhe presently knew to be the confidant of Schemselnihar. Between fear\nand joy, he made what haste he could away, without looking at her;\nbut she followed him, as he feared she would, the place they were in\nbeing by no means proper to hold a conversation. As he walked a\nlittle faster than ordinary, she not being able to overtake him,\nevery now and then she called out to him to stay.\n\nHe heard her; but after what had happened, he did not think fit to\nspeak to her in public, for fear of giving cause to suspect that he\nwas connected with Schemselnihar. It was known to every body in\nBagdad that this woman belonged to her, and executed all her little\ncommissions. He continued the same pace, and at length came to a\nmosque, where he knew but few people came. He entered it, and she\nfollowed him, and they had a long conversation together, without any\nbody overhearing them.\n\nBoth the jeweller and confidant expressed mutual joy at seeing each\nother, after the strange adventure of the robbers, and their\nreciprocal apprehension for each other, without regarding their own\nparticular persons.\n\nThe jeweller wished her to relate to him how she escaped with the\ntwo slaves, and what she knew of Schemselnihar from the time he lost\nsight of her; but so great was her eagerness to know what had\nhappened to him from the time of their unexpected separation, that\nhe found himself obliged to satisfy her. Having given you the detail\nyou desired, said he, oblige me in your turn, which she did in the\nfollowing manner:\n\nWhen I first saw the robbers, said she, I hastily imagined that they\nwere soldiers of the caliph\u2019s guard, and that the caliph being\ninformed of Schemselnihar\u2019s going out, had sent them to take away\nher life, the life of the prince, and of us all. Under this\nimpression I immediately got up to the leads of your house, when the\nthieves entered the chamber where the prince and Schemselnihar were,\nand I was soon after followed by that lady\u2019s two slaves. From\nleads to leads, we came at last to a house of very honest people,\nwho received us with much civility, and with whom we lodged that\nnight.\n\nNext morning, after thanking the master of the house for our good\nusage, we returned to Schemselnihar\u2019s palace, where we entered in\ngreat disorder and distress, because we could not learn the fate of\nthe two unfortunate lovers. The other women of Schemselnihar were\nastonished to see me return without their lady. We told them we had\nleft her at the house of one of her female friends, and that she\nwould send for us when she had a mind to come home; with which\nexcuse they seemed well satisfied.\n\nFor my part, I spent the day in great uneasiness, and when night\ncame, opening a small private gate, I espied a little boat on the\ncanal which seemed driven by the stream. I called to the waterman\nand desired him to row up each side of the river, and look if he\ncould see a lady; if he found her, to bring her along with him. The\ntwo slaves and I waited impatiently for his return, and at length\nabout midnight, we saw the boat coming down with two men in it and a\nwoman lying along in the stern. When the boat was come up, the two\nmen helped the woman to rise, and then it was I knew her to be\nSchemselnihar. I cannot express my joy at seeing her.\n\nI gave my hand to Schemselnihar to help her out of the boat; she had\ngreat need of my assistance, for she could hardly stand. When she\nwas landed, she whispered to me in a tone expressive of her\naffliction, and bid me go and take a purse of a thousand pieces of\ngold and give to the two soldiers that had accompanied her. I\ncommitted her to the two slaves to support her, and having ordered\nthe two soldiers to wait for me a moment, I took the purse, and\nreturned instantly: I gave it to the soldiers, and having paid the\nwaterman, shut the door.\n\nI then followed my lady, and overtook her before she was got up to\nher chamber. We immediately undressed her, and put her to bed, where\nshe had not long been, before she seemed ready to give up the ghost\nall the rest of the night. The day following, her other women\nexpressed a great desire to see her; but I told them she had been\ngreatly fatigued, and wanted rest to restore her strength. The other\ntwo women and I gave her all the assistance in our power, and that\nshe could expect from our attention. She persisted in taking nothing\nthat we offered her: and we should have despaired of her life, if I\nhad not at last perceived that the wine which we gave her every now\nand then had a sensible effect in restoring her strength. By\nimportunity we overcame her obstinacy, and at length prevailed with\nher to eat.\n\nWhen she came to the use of her speech, for she had hitherto only\nwept, groaned, and sighed, I begged of her to tell me how she had\nescaped out of the hands of the robbers. Why would you require of\nme, said she, with a profound sigh, to renew my grief? Would to God\nthe robbers had taken away my life, rather than preserved it; my\nmisfortunes would then have had an end, whereas I live but to\nincrease my sufferings.\n\nMadam, replied I, I beg you would not refuse me this favour. You\ncannot but know that the wretched feel a consolation in relating\ntheir greatest misfortunes; what I ask would alleviate yours, if you\nwill have the goodness to gratify me.\n\nHear then, said she, the most afflicting adventure that could\npossibly have happened to one so deeply in love as myself, who\nconsidered myself as at the utmost point of my wishes. You must\nknow, when I first saw the robbers enter, sword in hand, I\nconsidered it as the last moment of our lives; but death was not an\nobject of regret, since I thought I was to die with the prince of\nPersia. However, instead of murdering us, as I expected, two of the\nrobbers were ordered to take care of us, whilst their companions\nwere busied in packing up the goods they found in the house. When\nthey had done, and got their bundles upon their backs, they went\nout, and carried us along with them.\n\nAs we went along, one of those that had charge of us demanded of me\nwho I was. I answered, I was a dancer. He put the same question to\nthe prince, who replied, he was a citizen.\n\nWhen we were come to the place whither they were going, a new alarm\nseized us. They gathered about us, and after having considered my\ndress, and the rich jewels I was adorned with, they seemed to doubt\nthat I disguised my quality. Dancers, said they, do not use to be\ndressed as you are. Tell us truly who you are.\n\nWhen they saw I answered nothing, they asked the prince once more\nwho he was, for they told him they plainly perceived he was not the\nperson he pretended to be. He did not satisfy them much more than I\nhad done: he only told them he came to see the jeweller, naming him\nwho was the owner of that house where they found them. I know this\njeweller, replied one of the rogues, who seemed to have some\nauthority over the rest: I have some obligations to him, which he\nknows nothing of, and I take upon me to bring him hither to-morrow\nmorning, from another house he has: but you must not expect,\ncontinued he, to be released till he comes and tells us who you are:\nin the mean time, I promise you there shall be no injury offered to\nyou.\n\nThe jeweller was brought next morning, who thinking to oblige us, as\nhe really did, declared to the robbers the whole truth. They\nimmediately came and asked my pardon, and I believe did the like to\nthe prince, who was shut up in another room. They protested to me\nthey would not have broken open the house where we were, had they\nknown it was the jeweller\u2019s. They soon after took us, (the prince,\nthe jeweller, and myself,) carried us to the river side, put us\naboard the boat, and rowed us across the water: but we were no\nsooner landed, than a party of horse patrol came up to us.\n\nThe robbers fled: I took the commander aside, and told him my name,\nand that the night before I had been seized by robbers, who forced\nme along with them; but having been told who I was, released me, and\nthe two persons he saw with me, on my account. He alighted out of\nrespect to me, and, expressing great joy for being able to oblige\nme, he caused two boats to be brought, putting me and two of his\nsoldiers, whom you have seen, into one, escorted me hither, and the\nprince and jeweller, with two others, in another, to conduct them\nhome in safety. My guides have conducted me hither; but what is\nbecome of the prince and his friend I cannot tell.\n\nI trust, added she, melting into tears, no harm has happened to them\nsince our separation; and I do not doubt, but the prince\u2019s concern\nfor me is equal to mine for him. The jeweller, to whom we have been\nso much obliged, ought to be recompensed for the loss he has\nsustained on our account. Fail not, therefore, to take two purses of\na thousand pieces of gold in each, and carry them to him to-morrow\nmorning in my name, and be sure to inquire after the prince\u2019s\nwelfare.\n\nWhen my good mistress had done speaking, I endeavoured, as to the\nlast article of inquiring into the prince\u2019s welfare, to persuade\nher to endeavour to triumph over her passion, after the danger she\nhad so lately escaped almost by miracle. --Make no answer to me,\nsaid she, but do what I command you.\n\nI was obliged to be silent, and am come hither to obey her commands.\nI have been at your house, and not finding you at home, and\nuncertain as I was of finding where you were said to be, was about\ngoing to the prince of Persia; but not daring to attempt the\njourney, I have left the two purses with a particular friend of\nmine, and if you will wait here, I will go and fetch them\nimmediately.\n\nThe confidant returned quickly to the jeweller in the mosque, where\nshe had left him, and giving him the two purses, bid him out of them\nsatisfy his friends. They are much more than is necessary, said the\njeweller, but I dare not refuse the present from so good and\ngenerous a lady to her very humble servant; but I beseech you to\nassure her from me, that I shall preserve an eternal remembrance of\nher goodness. He then agreed with the confidant, that she should\nfind him at the house where she had first seen him, whenever she had\noccasion to impart any thing from Schemselnihar, or to hear any\ntidings of the prince of Persia: and so they parted.\n\nThe jeweller returned home very well satisfied, not only that he had\ngot wherewithal so fully to satisfy his friends, but also to think\nthat no person in Bagdad could possibly know that the prince and\nSchemselnihar had been in his house when it was robbed. It is true,\nhe had acquainted the thieves with it, but their secresy he thought\nhe might very well depend on: they, he imagined, had not sufficient\ncommunication with the world to fear any danger from their divulging\nit. Next morning he visited the friends who had obliged him, and\nfound no difficulty in satisfying them. He had money in hand to\nfurnish his other house, in which he placed servants. Thus he forgot\nall his past danger, and the next evening waited on the prince of\nPersia.\n\nThe prince\u2019s domestics told the jeweller, that he came in very\nluckily, for that the prince ever since he saw him was reduced to\nsuch a state that his life was in danger, and they had not been able\nto get a word out of him. They introduced him softly into his\nchamber, and he found him in a condition that excited his pity. He\nwas lying upon his bed, with his eyes shut; but when the jeweller\nsaluted him, and exhorted him to take courage, he recollected him,\nand opened his eyes, and gave him a look that sufficiently declared\nthe greatness of his affliction, infinitely beyond what he felt\nafter he first saw Schemselnihar. He took and grasped him by the\nhand, to testify his friendship, and told him in a feeble voice,\nthat he was extremely obliged to him, for coming so far to seek one\nso unhappy and wretched.\n\nPrince, replied the jeweller, mention not, I beseech you, any\nobligations you have to me: I wish the good offices I have\nendeavoured to do you had had a better effect: but at present, let\nus talk only of your health; which, in the state I see you, I fear\nyou greatly injure, by unreasonably abstaining from proper\nnourishment.\n\nThe prince\u2019s servants took this opportunity to tell him, it was\nwith the greatest difficulty they had prevailed on their master to\ntake the smallest refreshment, and that for some time he had taken\nnothing at all. This obliged the jeweller to entreat the prince to\nlet his servants bring him something to eat; which he obtained after\nmuch importunity.\n\nAfter the prince had eaten more than he had hitherto done, through\nthe persuasion of the jeweller, he commanded the servants to leave\nhim alone with his friend. When the room was clear, he said, Besides\nmy misfortune that distracts me, I have been exceedingly concerned\nto think what a loss you have suffered on my account; and it is but\njust I should make you some recompense; but before I do this, after\nbegging your pardon a thousand times, I conjure you to tell me\nwhether you have learnt any thing of Schemselnihar, since I had the\nmisfortune to be parted from her.\n\nHere the jeweller, instructed by the confidant, related to him all\nthat he knew of Schemselnihar\u2019s arrival at her palace, her state\nof health from that time till she recovered, and how she had sent\nher confidant to him to inquire after his welfare.\n\nTo all this the prince replied only by sighs and tears; he made an\neffort to get up, and calling his servants, went himself to his\nwardrobe, and having caused several bundles of rich furniture and\nplate to be packed up, he ordered them to be carried to the\njeweller\u2019s house.\n\nThe jeweller would fain have declined this kind offer: but although\nhe represented that Schemselnihar had already made him more than\nsufficient amends for what he had lost, the prince would be obeyed.\nThe jeweller was therefore obliged to make all possible\nacknowledgments, and protested how much he was confounded at his\nhighness\u2019s liberality. He would then have taken his leave, but the\nprince desired him to stay, and so they passed a good part of the\nnight in talking together.\n\nNext morning, the jeweller waited again on the prince, who made him\nsit down by him. You know, said he, there is an end proposed in all\nthings: the end the lover proposes, is, to enjoy the beloved object\nin spite of all opposition. If once he loses that hope, he must not\nthink to live. Such is my hard case; for when I had been twice at\nthe very point of fulfilling my desires, I was on a sudden torn from\nher I loved in the most cruel manner imaginable. It remains for me\nonly to think of death, and I had sought it, but that our holy\nreligion forbids suicide; but I need not anticipate it; I need not\nwait long. Here he stopped, and vented his passion in groans, signs,\nsobs, and tears, which flowed plentifully.\n\nThe jeweller, who knew no better way of diverting him from his\ndespair than by bringing Schemselnihar into his mind, and giving him\nsome shadow of hope, told him, he feared the confidant might be come\nfrom her lady, and therefore it would not be proper to stay any\nlonger from home. I will let you go, said the prince, but conjure\nyou that if you see her, you recommend to her, to assure\nSchemselnihar, that if I die, as I expect to do shortly, I shall\nlove her to the last moment, even in the grave.\n\nThe jeweller returned home, and waited in expectation of seeing the\nconfidant, who came some hours after, but all in tears, and in great\naffliction. The jeweller, alarmed, asked her what was the matter.\nShe answered, that Schemselnihar, the prince, herself and he were\nall ruined. Hear the sad news, said she, as it was told me just upon\nmy entering the palace after I had left you.\n\nSchemselnihar had for some fault chastised one of the slaves you saw\nwith her when we met in your other house; the slave enraged at the\nill treatment, ran presently away, and finding the gate open, went\nforth; so that we have just reason to believe, she has discovered\nall to an eunuch of the guard who has given her protection.\n\nBut this is not all; the other slave, her companion, is fled too,\nand has taken refuge in the caliph\u2019s palace; so that we may well\nfear she has borne her part in this discovery: for just as I came\naway, the caliph had sent twenty of his eunuchs for Schemselnihar,\nand they carried her to the palace. I just found means to come and\ntell you this. I know not what has passed, yet I fear no good; but,\nabove all, I recommend it to you as a secret.\n\nThe confidant added to what she had said before to the jeweller,\nthat it was proper he should go immediately and acquaint the prince\nwith the whole affair, that he might be prepared for every event,\nand keep faithful to the common cause. She went away in haste,\nwithout staying for any answer.\n\nWhat answer could the jeweller have made in the condition he was in?\nHe stood motionless as if thunderstruck. He found, however, that\nthere was no time to be lost, and immediately went to give the\nprince an account. He addressed himself to him with an air that\nsufficiently showed the bad news he brought him. Prince, said he,\narm yourself with courage and patience, and prepare to receive the\nmost terrible shock that ever you had to encounter.\n\nTell me in a few words, said the prince, what is the matter, without\nkeeping me in suspense: I am prepared to die if necessary. Then the\njeweller told him all that he had learnt from the confidant. You\nsee, continued he, your destruction is inevitable. Up, rise, save\nyourself by flight, for the time is precious. You, of all men, must\nnot expose yourself to the anger of the caliph, and should much less\nconfess any thing in the midst of torments.\n\nAt these words, the prince was almost ready to expire through grief,\naffliction, and fear; however, he recovered himself, and asked the\njeweller, what resolution he would advise him to take in this\nconjuncture, every moment of which was to be made use of. The\njeweller told him, he thought nothing remained but that he should\nimmediately take horse, and haste away towards Anbar, [82] that he\nmight get thither before day. Take what servants and swift horses\nyou think necessary, continued he, and suffer me to escape with you.\n\nThe prince, seeing nothing more to be done, immediately gave orders\nto prepare such an equipage as would be least troublesome, took\nmoney and jewels, and having taken leave of his mother, he departed\nwith the jeweller, and such servants as he had chosen.\n\nThey travelled all that day and the night following without\nstopping; till at length, about two or three hours before daybreak,\nboth their horses and themselves being spent with so long a journey,\nthey stopt to rest themselves.\n\nThey had hardly sat down before they found themselves surrounded and\nassaulted by a great band of robbers. They defended their lives for\nsome time courageously; but, at length, the prince\u2019s servants\nbeing all killed, both he and the jeweller were obliged to yield at\ndiscretion. The robbers, however, spared their lives; but after they\nhad seized on the horses and baggage, they took away their clothes,\nand left them naked on the spot.\n\nWhen the thieves were gone from them, the prince said to the\njeweller, What think you of our adventure and condition? Had I not\nbetter have tarried in Bagdad, and awaited my death? Prince, replied\nthe jeweller, it is the decree of heaven that we should thus suffer.\nIt has pleased God to add affliction to affliction, and we must not\nmurmur at it, but receive his chastisements with submission. Let us\nstay no longer here, but seek for some retreat where we may perhaps\nbe relieved.\n\nLet me die, said the prince; for what signifies it whether I die\nhere or elsewhere? perhaps, while we are talking, Schemselnihar is\nno more; and why should I endeavour to live after she is dead? The\njeweller by his entreaty at length prevailed on him, and they had\nnot gone far before they came to a mosque, which was open; they\nentered it, and passed there the remainder of the night.\n\nAt daybreak a man came into the mosque. When he had ended his\nprayer, as he turned about to go away, he perceived the prince and\njeweller, who were sitting in a corner. He came up to them, and\nafter having saluted them with a great deal of civility, said, I\nperceive you are strangers.\n\nThe jeweller answered, You are not deceived; we have been robbed\nto-night in coming from Bagdad, as you may see, and are retired\nhither for shelter, but we know not whom to apply to. If you think\nfit to come along with me to my house, answered the man, I will give\nyou all the assistance in my power.\n\nUpon this obliging offer, the jeweller turned to the prince, and\nwhispered him, This man, as you perceive, sir, does not know us; and\nwe have reason to fear, that somebody else may come who may know us.\nWe cannot, I think, refuse his offer. Do as you please, said the\nprince; I am willing to be guided by your discretion.\n\nThe man observing the prince and jeweller consulting together, and\nthinking they made some difficulty to accept his offer, asked them\nif they were resolved what to do. The jeweller answered, We are\nready to follow you; all that we make a difficulty about is, that we\nare ashamed to appear thus naked.\n\nFortunately the man had it in his power to cover them sufficiently\ntill they could get to his house; and they were no sooner got to the\nhouse, but he brought forth a very handsome suit for each of them.\nAs he thought they must be hungry, and wish to be alone, he had\nseveral dishes brought to them by a slave; but they ate little,\nespecially the prince, who was so dejected and dispirited, that he\ngave the jeweller cause to fear he would die. Their host visited\nthem several times in the day, and in the evening, as he knew they\nwanted rest, he left them early; but he was no sooner in bed, than\nthe jeweller was forced to call him again to assist at the death of\nthe prince of Persia. He found him breathe short, and with\ndifficulty, which gave him just reason to fear he had but few\nminutes to live. Coming near him, the prince said, It is all over,\nand I am glad you are witness of my last words. I quit life with a\ngreat deal of satisfaction; I need not tell you the reason, for you\nknow it already. All my concern is, that I cannot die in the arms of\nmy dear mother, who has always loved me tenderly, and for whom I had\na reciprocal affection. She will undoubtedly not be a little grieved\nthat she could not close my eyes, and bury me with her own hands.\nLet her know how much I was concerned at this, and pray her in my\nname to have my body transported to Bagdad, that she may have an\nopportunity to bedew my tomb with her tears, and assist my departed\nsoul with her prayers. He then took notice of the master of the\nhouse, and thanked him for his kindness in taking him in; and after\ndesiring him to let his body rest with him till it should be\nconveyed to Bagdad, he expired.\n\nThe day after the prince\u2019s death, the jeweller took the\nopportunity of a numerous caravan that was going to Bagdad, and\narrived there soon after in safety. He first went home to change his\nclothes, and then hastened to the prince\u2019s palace, where every\nbody was alarmed at not seeing the prince with him. He desired them\nto acquaint the prince\u2019s mother, that he wished to speak with her,\nand it was not long before he was introduced to her in a hall, with\nseveral of her women about her. Madam, said he to her, with an air\nthat sufficiently denoted the ill news he brought, God preserve you,\nand shower down the choicest of his blessings upon you. You cannot\nbe ignorant that he alone disposes of us at his pleasure.\n\nThe princess would not give him leave to go on, but cried out, Alas!\nyou bring me the news of my son\u2019s death. She and her women, at the\nsame time, set up such a hideous cry as brought fresh tears into the\njeweller\u2019s eyes. She tormented and grieved herself a long while,\nbefore she would suffer him to resume his story. At length, she\nchecked her sighs and groans, and begged of him to continue, without\nconcealing from her the least circumstance of such a melancholy\nseparation. He satisfied her, and when he had done, she farther\ndemanded of him, if her son, the prince, had not given him in charge\nsomething more particular in his last moments. He assured her his\nlast words were, that it was the greatest concern to him, that he\nmust die so far distant from his dear mother; and that the only\nthing he wished was, that she would be pleased to have his corpse\ntransported to Bagdad. Accordingly, early next morning the princess\nset out with her women, and great part of her slaves, to bring her\nson\u2019s body to her own palace.\n\nWhen the jeweller, whom she kept with her, saw she was gone, he\nreturned home very sad and melancholy, at the reflection that so\naccomplished and amiable a prince was thus cut off in the flower of\nhis age.\n\nAs he walked towards his house, dejected and musing, he saw a woman\nin mourning, drowned in tears, standing before him: on lifting up\nhis eyes, he presently knew her to be Schemselnihar\u2019s confidant.\nAt the sight of her his tears began to flow afresh, but he said\nnothing to her; and going into his own house, she followed him.\n\nThey sat down; when the jeweller beginning the conversation, asked\nthe confidant, with a deep sigh, if she had heard of the death of\nthe prince of Persia, and if it was on his account that she grieved.\nAlas! answered she, what, is that charming prince then dead? He has\nnot lived long after his dear Schemselnihar. Beauteous souls!\ncontinued she, in whatsoever place ye now are, ye must be happy that\nyour loves will no more be interrupted. Your bodies were an obstacle\nto your wishes, but heaven has delivered you from them; ye may now\nform the closest union.\n\nThe jeweller, who had heard nothing of Schemselnihar\u2019s death, and\nhad not observed the confidant was in mourning, suffered fresh grief\nat hearing this news. Is Schemselnihar then dead? cried he. She is\ndead, replied the confidant, weeping afresh; and it is for her I\nwear these weeds. The circumstances of her death were extraordinary,\ncontinued she, and deserve to be known to you; but before I give you\nan account of them, I beg you to let me know those of the prince of\nPersia, whom, with my dearest friend and mistress, I shall lament as\nlong as I live.\n\nThe jeweller then gave the confidant that satisfaction she desired;\nand after he had told her all, even to the departure of the\nprince\u2019s mother, to bring her son\u2019s body to Bagdad, she began\nand said, You have not forgot that I told you the caliph had sent\nfor Schemselnihar to his palace; and it is true, as we had all the\nreason in the world to believe, he had been informed of the amour\nbetwixt her and the prince, by the two slaves, whom he had examined\napart. You will imagine, he would be exceedingly enraged at\nSchemselnihar, and express great tokens of jealousy and revenge\nagainst the prince: but this was by no means the case. He pitied\nSchemselnihar, and in some measure blamed himself for what had\nhappened, in giving her so much freedom to walk about the city\nwithout being attended by his eunuchs. This is the only conclusion\nthat could be drawn from his extraordinary behaviour towards her, as\nyou will hear.\n\nHe received her with an open countenance; and when he observed that\nthe melancholy which oppressed her did not lessen her beauty, (for\nshe appeared thus before him without surprise or fear,) with a\ngoodness worthy himself, he said, Schemselnihar, I cannot bear your\nappearing before me thus, with an air which gives me infinite pain.\nYou must needs be sensible how much I have always loved you, and be\nconvinced of the sincerity of my passion by the continued\ndemonstrations I have given you of it. I can never change my mind,\nfor I love you more than ever. You have enemies, Schemselnihar,\nproceeded he, and those enemies have insinuated things against your\nconduct; but all they have said against you has not made the least\nimpression upon me. Shake off then this melancholy, and prepare to\nentertain me with some diverting and amusing conversation this\nnight, after your accustomed manner. He said many other obliging\nthings to hen and then desired her to step into a magnificent\napartment near her own, and wait for him.\n\nThe afflicted Schemselnihar was very sensible of the kindness the\ncaliph had for her; but the more she thought herself obliged to him,\nthe more she was concerned that she was so far removed, perhaps for\never, from her prince, without whom she could not live.\n\nThis interview between the caliph and Schemselnihar, continued the\nconfidant, was whilst I was come to speak with you, and I learned\nthe particulars of it from my companions who were present. But I had\nno sooner left you, proceeded she, than I went to my dear mistress\nagain, and was eye-witness to what happened in the evening. I found\nher in the apartment I told you of; and as she thought I came from\nyou, she came up to me, and, whispering me in the ear, said, I am\nmuch obliged to you for the service you have done me, but feel it\nwill be the last. She said no more; but I was not in a place proper\nto offer any thing to comfort her.\n\nThe caliph was introduced at night with the sound of instruments,\nwhich her women played upon, and the collation was immediately\nserved up. He took his mistress by the hand, and made her sit down\nwith him on the sofa. She put such a force upon herself to please\nhim, that she expired a few minutes after. In short, she was hardly\nset down, but she fell backwards: the caliph believed she had only\nfainted, and so we all thought; but she never recovered, and in this\nmanner we lost her.\n\nThe caliph did her the honour to weep over her, not being able to\nrefrain from tears; and before he left the room, ordered all the\nmusical instruments to be broken, which was immediately executed. I\nstayed with her corpse all night, and next morning washed and\ndressed her for her funeral, bathing her with my tears. The caliph\nhad her interred next morning in a magnificent tomb he had erected\nfor her in her lifetime, in a place she had desired to be buried in.\nNow, since you tell me, said she, the prince of Persia\u2019s body is\nto be brought to Bagdad, I will use my best endeavours that he shall\nbe interred in the same tomb.\n\nThe jeweller was much surprised at this resolution of the confidant,\nand said, Certainly you do not consider that the caliph will never\nsuffer this. You think the thing impossible, replied she; it is not:\nyou will alter your opinion when I tell you that the caliph has\ngiven liberty to all her slaves, with a pension to each for their\nmaintenance, and has committed to me the care and keeping of my\nmistress\u2019s tomb, and allotted me an annual income for that\npurpose, and for my maintenance. Besides, the caliph, who was not\nignorant of the amour between Schemselnihar and the prince, as I\nhave already told you, without being offended at it, will not be\nsorry if after her death he be buried with her. To all this the\njeweller had not a word to say, yet earnestly entreated the\nconfidant to conduct him to her mistress\u2019s tomb, that he might say\nhis prayers over her. When he came in sight of it, he was not a\nlittle surprised to find a vast concourse of people of both sexes,\nthat were come thither from all parts of Bagdad. As he could not\ncome near the tomb, he said his prayers at a distance; and then\ngoing to the confidant, who was waiting hard by, he said to her, Now\nI am so far from thinking that what you properly proposed cannot be\nput in execution, that you and I need only publish abroad what we\nknow of the amour of this unfortunate couple, and how the prince\ndied much about the same time with his mistress. Before his corpse\narrives, all Bagdad will concur to desire that two such faithful\nlovers should not be separated when dead, whom nothing could divide\nin affection whilst they lived. As he said, so it came to pass; for\nas soon as it came to be known that the corpse was within a day\u2019s\njourney of the city, an infinite number of people went out to meet\nit above twenty miles off, and afterwards walked before it till it\ncame to the city gate; where the confidant, waiting for that\npurpose, presented herself before the prince\u2019s mother, and begged\nof her, in the name of the whole city, who earnestly desired it,\nthat she would be pleased to consent that the bodies of the two\nlovers, who had but one heart whilst they lived, from the time their\nmutual passion commenced, might be buried in the same tomb now they\nwere dead. The princess immediately consented; and the corpse of the\nprince, instead of being deposited in his own burying-place, was\nlaid by Schemselnihar\u2019s side, after it had been carried along in\nprocession at the head of an infinite number of people of all ranks.\nFrom that time all the inhabitants of Bagdad, and even strangers\nfrom all parts of the world where the Mahometan religion prevails,\ncease not to hold in the highest veneration that tomb, and pay their\ndevotion at it.\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of the Amours of Carmaralzaman, Prince of the Isles of the\nChildren of Khaledan, and of Badoura, Princess of China.\n\n\nAbout twenty days\u2019 sail on the coast of Persia, there are islands\nin the main ocean called the Islands of the Children of Khaledan.\nThese islands are divided into four great provinces, which have all\nof them very flourishing and populous cities, forming together a\npowerful kingdom. It was formerly governed by a king named\nSchahzaman, [83] who had four lawful wives, all daughters of kings,\nand sixty concubines.\n\nSchahzaman thought himself the most happy monarch of the world, on\naccount of his peaceful and prosperous reign. One thing only\ndisturbed his happiness; which was, that he was advanced in years,\nand had no children, though he had so many wives. He knew not to\nwhat to attribute this barrenness; and what increased his affliction\nwas, that he was likely to leave his kingdom without a successor. He\ndissembled his discontent a long while; and this dissimulation only\nheightened his uneasiness. At length he broke silence; and one day,\nafter he had complained bitterly of his misfortunes to his grand\nvizier, he asked him if he knew any remedy for it.\n\nThat wise minister replied, If what your majesty requires of me had\ndepended on the ordinary rules of human wisdom, you had soon had an\nanswer to your satisfaction; but my experience and knowledge fall\nfar short of your question. The Divine Power alone, who, in the\nmidst of our prosperities, which often tempt us to forget him, is\npleased to mortify us in some instance, that we may address our\nthoughts to him, acknowledge his omnipotence, and ask of him what we\ncan expect from him alone. Your majesty has subjects, proceeded he,\nwho make a profession of honouring and serving God, and suffering\ngreat hardships for his sake; to them I would advise you to have\nrecourse, and engage them, by alms, to join their prayers with\nyours: it may be, some one among them may be so pure and pleasing to\nGod as to obtain a hearing from your prayers.\n\nKing Schahzaman approved this advice, and thanked his vizier for it.\nHe immediately caused rich alms to be given to every community of\nthese holy men in his dominions; and having sent for the superiors,\nand treated them with a frugal feast, declared to them his\nintention, and desired them to acquaint their devout men with it.\n\nThe king obtained of heaven what he requested; for in nine months\u2019\ntime he had a son by one of his wives. To express his gratitude to\nheaven, he sent new alms to the communities of devout Mussulmen, and\nthe prince\u2019s birth-day was celebrated not only in his capital, but\nthroughout his dominions for a whole week. The prince was brought to\nhim as soon as born, and he found him so beautiful, that he gave him\nthe name of Camaralzaman, or Moon of the Age.\n\nHe was brought up with all imaginable care; and when he came to a\nproper age, his father appointed him an experienced governor, and\nable preceptors. These persons, distinguished by their capacity,\nfound in him a ready wit, capable of receiving all the instructions\nthat were proper to be given him, as well in relation to morals as\nother knowledge which a prince ought to possess. As he grew up, he\nlearned all his exercises, and acquitted himself with such grace and\nwonderful address, as charmed all that saw him, and particularly the\nsultan his father.\n\nHaving attained the age of fifteen years, the sultan, who loved him\nso tenderly, and gave him every day new marks of his affection, had\nthoughts of giving him a still greater, by resigning his throne to\nhim, and acquainted his grand vizier with his intentions. I fear,\nsaid he, lest my son should lose in the inactivity of youth those\nadvantages which nature and my education have given him: therefore,\nsince I am advanced in age, and ought to think of retirement, I have\nthoughts of resigning the government to him, and passing the\nremainder of my days in the satisfaction of seeing him reign. I have\nundergone the fatigue of a crown a long while, and think it now\nproper for me to retire.\n\nThe grand vizier declined offering all the reasons he could have\nalleged to dissuade the sultan from such a proceeding; on the\ncontrary, he agreed with him in opinion. Sir, replied he, the prince\nis yet but young, and it would not be, in my humble opinion,\nadvisable to burthen him with the weight of a crown so soon. Your\nmajesty fears, with great reason, his youth may be corrupted in\nindolence; but to remedy that, do not you think it would be proper\nto marry him? Marriage forms attachment, and prevents dissipation.\nYour majesty might then admit him of your council, where he would\nlearn by degrees the art of reigning, and so be qualified to receive\nyour authority, whenever, by your own experience, you shall think\nhim qualified.\n\nSchahzaman found this advice of his prime minister\u2019s highly\nreasonable, therefore summoned the prince to appear before him at\nthe same time that he dismissed the grand vizier.\n\nThe prince, who had been accustomed to see his father only at\ncertain times, without being sent for, was a little startled at this\nsummons; when, therefore, he came before him, he saluted him with\ngreat respect, and stood with his eyes fixed on the ground.\n\nThe sultan perceiving his constraint, said to him in a mild way, Do\nyou know, son, for what reason I have sent for you? The prince\nmodestly replied, God alone knows the heart; I shall hear it from\nyour majesty with pleasure. I sent for you, said the sultan, to\ninform you I have an intention of providing a proper marriage for\nyou; what do you think of it?\n\nPrince Camaralzaman heard this with great uneasiness; it so\nsurprised him, that he paused and knew not what answer to make.\nAfter a few moments\u2019 silence, he replied, Sir, I beseech you to\npardon me, if I seem surprised at the declaration you have made to\nme. I did not expect such proposals to one so young as I am; and I\nknow not whether I could ever prevail on myself to marry, on account\nof the trouble incident to a married life, and the many treacheries\nof women, which I have read of. I may not be always of the same\nmind; yet I perceive it requires time to determine on what your\nmajesty requires of me.\n\nPrince Camaralzaman\u2019s answer extremely afflicted his father. He\nwas not a little grieved to see what an aversion he had to marriage;\nyet would not charge him with disobedience, nor exert his paternal\nauthority. He contented himself with telling him he would not force\nhis inclinations, but give him time to consider of the proposal, and\nreflect, that a prince like him, destined to govern a great kingdom,\nought to take some care to leave a successor; and that, in giving\nhimself that satisfaction, he communicated it to his father, who\nwould be glad to see himself revive in his son and his issue.\n\nSchahzaman said no more to the prince: he admitted him into his\ncouncil, and gave him every reason to be satisfied. At the end of\nthe year, he took him aside, and said to him, My son, have you\nthoroughly considered of what I proposed to you about marrying last\nyear? Will you still refuse me that pleasure I expect from your\nobedience, and suffer me to die without giving me that satisfaction?\n\nThe prince seemed less disconcerted than before, and was not long\nanswering his father to this effect: Sir, I have not neglected to\nconsider of your proposal; but after the maturest reflection, find\nmyself more confirmed in my resolution to continue as I am without\nengaging in marriage. In short, the infinite mischief I have read in\nhistories caused in the world by women, and the continual mischiefs\nI still hear done by them, are powerful motives for me to have\nnothing to do with them: so that I hope your majesty will pardon me\nif I presume to tell you it will be in vain to solicit me any\nfarther about marriage. He stopt here, and went out, without staying\nto hear what the sultan would answer.\n\nAny monarch but Schahzaman would have been very angry at such\nfreedom in a son, and would have made him repent it; but he loved\nhim, and preferred gentle methods before he proceeded to compulsion.\nHe communicated this new cause of discontent to his prime minister.\nI have followed your advice, said he, but Camaralzaman is farther\nthan ever from complying with my desires. He delivered his\nresolution in such free terms, that it required all my reason and\nmoderation to keep my temper. Fathers, who so earnestly desire\nchildren as I did this son, are fools who seek to deprive themselves\nof that rest which it is in their own power to enjoy without\ncontrol. Tell me, I beseech you, how I shall reclaim a disposition\nso rebellious to my will.\n\nSir, answered the grand vizier, patience brings many things about\nthat before seemed impracticable; but it may be this affair is of a\nnature not likely to succeed that way. Your majesty will have no\ncause to reproach yourself for precipitation, if you would give the\nprince another year to consider of the matter. If in this interval,\nhe return to his duty, you will have the greater satisfaction, as\nyou will have employed only paternal love to induce him; and if he\nstill continue averse to your proposal when this is expired, your\nmajesty may propose it to him in full council, that it is highly\nnecessary for the good of the state that he should marry; and it is\nnot likely he will refuse to comply with you before so grave an\nassembly, which you honour with your presence.\n\nThe sultan, who so passionately desired to see his son married,\nthought this long delay an age; however, though with much\ndifficulty, he yielded to his grand vizier\u2019s reasons, which he\ncould not disapprove.\n\nAfter the grand vizier was gone, sultan Schahzaman went to the\napartment of the mother of prince Camaralzaman, to whom he had often\nexpressed his desire to see the prince married. When he had told\nher, with grief, how his son had refused to comply with his wishes a\nsecond time, and the indulgence, which by the advice of his grand\nvizier, he was inclined to show him, he said, Madam, I know he has\nmore confidence in, and will hearken more to you than me; therefore,\nI desire you would take an opportunity to talk to him seriously\nabout it, and convince him, that if he persists in his obstinacy, he\nwill oblige me to have recourse to extremities, which I should be\nsorry for, and which may give him cause to repent having disobeyed\nme.\n\nFatima, for so was the lady called, acquainted the prince the first\ntime she saw him, that she had been informed of his second refusal\nto marry, and how much chagrin he had occasioned his father on that\naccount. Madam, said the prince, I beseech you not to renew my grief\nupon that head. I fear, in my present uneasiness, something may\nescape me, which may not altogether correspond with the respect I\nowe you. Fatima knew by this answer that this was not a proper time\nto speak to him, and therefore deferred what she had to say to\nanother opportunity.\n\nSome considerable time after, Fatima thought she had found a more\nfavourable opportunity, which gave her hopes of being heard upon\nthat subject. Son, said she, I beg of you, if it be not\ndisagreeable, to tell me what reason you have for your so great\naversion to marriage? If it be only the wickedness of some women,\nnothing can be more unreasonable and weak. I will not undertake the\ndefence of those that are bad; there are a great number of them\nundoubtedly; but it would be the height of injustice to condemn all\nthe sex for their sakes. --Alas! my son, you have in your books met\nwith many bad women, who have occasioned great mischief, and I will\nnot excuse them; but you do not consider how many monarchs, sultans,\nand other princes, there have been in the world, whose tyrannies,\nbarbarities, and cruelties astonished those that read of them, as\nwell as myself. Now, for one wicked woman, you will meet with a\nthousand tyrants and barbarians; and what torment do you think a\ngood woman must undergo, who is matched with any of these wretches?\n\nMadam, replied Camaralzaman, I doubt not there are a great number of\nwise, virtuous, good, affable, and well-behaved women in the world:\nwould to God they all resembled you! But what deters me is the\ndoubtful choice a man is obliged to make; and oftentimes one has not\nthe liberty of following his inclination.\n\nLet us suppose then, madam, continued he, that I had a mind to\nmarry, as the sultan my father so earnestly desires, what wife,\nthink you, would he be likely to provide for me? Probably a princess\nwhom he would demand of some neighbouring prince, and who would\nthink it an honour done him to send him her. Handsome or ugly, she\nmust be taken; nay, suppose no other princess excelled her in\nbeauty, who can be certain that her temper would be good; that she\nwould be affable, complaisant, easy, obliging, and the like? That\nher conversation would generally turn on solid subjects, and not on\ndress, fashions, ornaments, and a thousand such fooleries, which\nwould disgust any man of sense? In a word, that she would not be\nhaughty, proud, arrogant, impertinent, scornful, and waste an estate\nin frivolous expenses, such as gay clothes, jewels, toys, and\nfoolish, mistaken magnificence?\n\nYou see, madam, continued he, by one single article, how many\nreasons a man may have to be disgusted at marriage. Let this\nprincess be never so perfect, accomplished, and irreproachable in\nher conduct, I have yet a great many more reasons not to alter my\nopinion and resolution.\n\nWhat, son, replied Fatima, have you then more reasons after those\nyou have already alleged? I do not doubt of being able to answer\nthem, and stop your mouth with a word. You may proceed, madam,\nreplied the prince, and perhaps I may find a reply to your answer.\n\nI mean, son, said Fatima, that it is easy for a prince who has had\nthe misfortune to marry such a wife as you describe, to get rid of\nher, and take care that she may not ruin the state. Ah, madam,\nreplied the prince, but you do not consider what a mortification it\nwould be to a person of so great quality, to be obliged to come to\nsuch an extremity. Would it not have been more for his honour and\nquiet, that he had never run such a risk?\n\nBut, son, said Fatima once more, as you take the case, I apprehend\nyou have a mind to be the last king of your race, who have reigned\nso long and gloriously over the isles of the children of Khaledan.\n\nMadam, replied the prince, for myself I do not desire to survive the\nking, my father; and if I should die before him, it would be no\ngreat matter of wonder, since so many children have died before\ntheir parents. But it is always glorious to a race of kings, that it\nshould end with a prince worthy to be so, as I should endeavour to\nmake myself like my predecessors, and like the first of our race.\n\nFrom that time Fatima had frequent conferences with her son the\nprince on the same subject; and she omitted no opportunity or\nargument to endeavour to root out his aversion to the fair sex; but\nhe eluded all her reasonings by such arguments as she could not well\nanswer, and continued in the same mind.\n\nThe year expired, and, to the great regret of the sultan, prince\nCamaralzaman gave not the least sign of having changed his\nsentiments. One day, therefore, when there was a great council held,\nthe prime vizier, the other viziers, the principal officers of the\ncrown, and the generals of the army being present, the sultan began\nto speak thus to the prince: My son, it is now a long while since I\nhave expressed to you my earnest desire to see you married; and I\nimagined you would have had more complaisance for a father, who\nrequired nothing unreasonable of you, than to oppose him so long.\nBut after so long resistance on your part, which has almost worn out\nmy patience, I have thought fit to propose the same thing once more\nto you in the presence of my council. I would have you consider that\nyou ought not to have refused this, if merely to oblige a parent;\nthe well-being of my dominions requires it; and the assembly here\npresent join with me to require it of you. Declare yourself, then;\nthat according to your answer, I may take the proper measures.\n\nThe prince answered with so little reserve, or rather with so much\nwarmth, that the sultan, enraged to see himself thwarted by him in\nfull council, cried out, How, unnatural son! have you the insolence\nto talk thus to your father and sultan? He ordered the guards to\ntake him away, and carry him to an old tower that had been\nunoccupied for a long while, where he was shut up, with only a bed,\na little furniture, some books, and one slave to attend him.\n\nCamaralzaman, thus deprived of liberty, was nevertheless pleased he\nhad the freedom to converse with his books, and that made him look\non his confinement with indifference. In the evening he bathed and\nsaid his prayers; and after having read some chapters in the Koran,\nwith the same tranquillity of mind as if he had been in the\nsultan\u2019s palace, he undressed himself and went to bed, leaving his\nlamp burning by him all the while he slept.\n\nIn this tower was a well, which served in the daytime for a retreat\nto a certain fairy, named Maimoune, daughter of Damriat, king or\nhead of a legion of genies. It was about midnight when Maimoune\nsprang lightly to the mouth of the well, to wander about the world\nafter her wonted custom, where her curiosity led her. She was\nsurprised to see a light in prince Camaralzaman\u2019s chamber. She\nentered, and without stopping at the slave who lay at the door,\napproached the bed, whose magnificence attracted her; but she was\nstill more surprised at seeing any body in it.\n\nPrince Camaralzaman had but half-covered his face with the\nbed-clothes, which Maimoune lifted up, and perceived the finest\nyoung man she had seen in all her rambles through the world. What\nbeauty, or rather what prodigy of beauty, said she within herself,\nmust this youth appear, when the eyes, concealed by so well-formed\neyelids, shall be open! What crime can he have committed, that a man\nof his high rank can deserve to be treated thus rigorously? for she\nhad already heard his story, and could hardly believe it.\n\nShe could not forbear admiring the prince, till, at length, having\nkissed him gently on both cheeks, and in the middle of the forehead,\nwithout waking him, she laid the bed-clothes in the order they were\nin before, and took her flight into the air. As she mounted high to\nthe middle region, she heard a great flapping of wings, which made\nher fly that way; and when she approached, she knew it was a genie\nwho made the noise, but it was one of those that are rebellious\nagainst God. As for Maimoune, she belonged to that class whom the\ngreat Solomon compelled to acknowledge him.\n\nThis genie, whose name was Danhasch, and son of Schamhourasch, knew\nMaimoune, and was seized with fear, being sensible how much power\nshe had over him by her submission to the Almighty. He would fain\nhave avoided her, but she was so near him, he must either fight or\nyield. He therefore broke silence first.\n\nBrave Maimoune, said he, in the tone of a suppliant, swear to me in\nthe name of the great God that you will not hurt me, and I swear\nalso on my part not to do you any harm.\n\nCursed genie, replied Maimoune, what hurt canst thou do me? I fear\nthee not; but I will grant thee this favour --I will swear not to do\nthee any harm. Tell me then, wandering spirit, whence thou comest,\nwhat thou hast seen, and what thou hast done this night. Fair lady,\nanswered Danhasch, you meet me in a good time to hear something very\nwonderful.\n\n\n\n\nThe History of the Princess of China.\n\n\nDanhasch, the genie rebellious against God, proceeded, and said to\nMaimoune, Since you desire it, I will tell you. I come from the\nutmost limits of China, which look on the last islands of this\nhemisphere. --But, charming Maimoune, said Danhasch, who trembled\nwith fear at the sight of this fairy, so that he could hardly speak,\npromise me at least you will forgive me, and let me go on after I\nhave satisfied your demands.\n\nGo on, go on, cursed spirit, replied Maimoune; go on, and fear\nnothing. Dost thou think I am as perfidious an elf as thyself, and\ncapable of breaking the solemn oath I have made? Be sure you tell\nnothing but what is true, or I shall clip thy wings, and treat thee\nas thou deservest.\n\nDanhasch, a little heartened at the words of Maimoune, said, My dear\nlady, I will tell you nothing but what is strictly true, if you will\nbut have the goodness to hear me. The country of China, from whence\nI come, is one of the largest and most powerful kingdoms of the\nearth, on which depend the utmost islands of this hemisphere, as I\nhave already told you. The king of this country is at present\nGaiour, who has an only daughter, the finest woman that ever was\nseen in the world, since it was a world. Neither you nor I, nor your\nclass nor mine, nor all our respective genies, have expressions\nstrong enough, nor eloquence sufficient, to draw any resemblance of\nthis brilliant lady. Her hair is brown, and of so great a length,\nthat it reaches far below her feet, and so thick, that it may be\nfitly compared to one of those fine clusters of grapes, whose fruit\nis so very large, when she has fastened it in buckles on her head.\nHer forehead is as smooth as the best polished mirror, and admirably\nformed; her eyes, level with her head, are black, sparkling, and\nfull of fire; her nose is neither too long nor too short, and her\nmouth small, and of a vermilion colour; her teeth are like two rows\nof pearls, and surpass the finest in whiteness. When she moves her\ntongue to speak, she utters a sweet and most agreeable voice, and\nexpresses herself in such terms, as sufficiently indicate the\nvivacity of her wit. The whitest alabaster is not fairer than her\nneck. In a word, by this imperfect sketch, you may guess there is no\nbeauty likely to exceed her in the world.\n\nAny one that did not know the king, father of this incomparable\nprincess, would be apt to imagine, from the great respect and\nkindness he shows her, that he was enamoured with her. Never did a\nlover more for the most beloved mistress than he has been seen to do\nfor her. The most violent jealousy never suggested such measures as\nhis care to keep her from every one but the man who is to marry her,\nhas put him upon inventing and executing; and that the retreat which\nhe has resolved to place her in may not seem irksome to her, he has\nbuilt for her seven palaces, the most extraordinary and magnificent\nthat ever were known.\n\nThe first palace is of rock crystal; the second of brass; the third\nof fine steel; the fourth of another sort of brass more valuable\nthan the foregoing, or than steel; the fifth of touchstone; the\nsixth of silver; and the seventh of massy gold. He has furnished\nthese palaces most sumptuously, each in a manner proportionable to\nthe materials that it is built of. He has filled the gardens with\nparterres of grass and flowers, intermixed with pieces of water,\nwaterworks, jets d\u2019eau, canals, cascades, and several great groves\nof trees, where the eye is lost in prospect, and where the sun never\nenters, all of which are differently arranged. King Gaiour, in a\nword, has shown, that his paternal love has led him to spare no\nexpense.\n\nUpon the fame of this incomparable princess\u2019s beauty, the most\npowerful neighbouring kings sent ambassadors to request her in\nmarriage. The king of China received them all in the same obliging\nmanner; but as he resolved not to marry his daughter without her\nconsent, and she did not like any of the parties, the ambassadors\nwere forced to return as they came, as to the subject of their\nembassy; but they were perfectly satisfied with the great honours\nand civilities they had received.\n\nSir, said the princess to the king, her father, you have an\ninclination to see me married, and think to oblige me by it; but\nwhere shall I find such stately palaces and delicious gardens as I\nhave with your majesty? Through your good pleasure, I am under no\nconstraint, and have the same honours shown to me, as are paid to\nyourself. These are advantages I cannot expect to find any where\nelse, to whatsoever husband I should give my hand; men love ever to\nbe masters, and I do not care to be commanded.\n\nAfter divers more embassies on the same occasion, there came one\nfrom the most rich and potent king of all that had hitherto sent.\nThis prince the king of China recommended to his daughter as a\nhusband, urging many powerful arguments to show how much it would be\nto her advantage to accept him; but she entreated her father to\ndispense with her accepting him, for the same reason as before. He\npressed her; but instead of complying, she lost all the respect due\nto the king, her father: Sir, said she, in anger, talk to me no more\nof this, or any other match, unless you would have me plunge this\nponiard in my bosom, to deliver myself from your importunities.\n\nThe king, greatly enraged, said, Daughter, you are mad, and I must\ntreat you as such. In a word, he had her shut up in a single\napartment of one of his palaces, and allowed her only ten old women\nto wait upon her, and keep her company, the chief whereof had been\nher nurse; and that the kings, his neighbours, who had sent\nembassies to him on this account, might not think any more of her,\nhe despatched envoys to them severally, to let them know how averse\nhis daughter was to marriage; and as he did not doubt but she was\nreally mad, he charged them to make known in every court, that if\nthere was any physician that would undertake to come and cure her,\nhe should, if he succeeded, have her for his pains.\n\nFair Maimoune, continued Danhasch, all that I have told you is true:\nand I have not failed to go every day regularly to contemplate this\nincomparable beauty, to whom I would be very sorry to do the least\nharm, notwithstanding my natural inclination to mischief. Come and\nsee her, I conjure you: it would be well worth your while, when you\nfind by your own view I am no liar. I am ready to wait on you as a\nguide, and you have only to command me. I doubt not but you would\nthink yourself obliged to me for the sight of a princess unequalled\nfor beauty.\n\nInstead of answering Danhasch, Maimoune burst out into violent\nlaughter, which lasted for some time; and Danhasch, not knowing what\nmight be the occasion of it, was astonished beyond measure. When she\nhad laughed her fill, she cried, Good, good, very good! you would\nhave me then believe all you have told me! I thought you designed to\ntell me something surprising and extraordinary, and you have been\ntalking all this while of a mad woman. Fie, fie! --what would you\nsay, cursed genie, if you had seen the beautiful prince that I am\njust come from seeing, and whom I love as he deserves? I am\nconfident you would soon give up the contest, and not pretend to\ncompare your choice with mine.\n\nAgreeable Maimoune, replied Danhasch, may I presume to ask you who\nis this prince you speak of? Know, answered Maimoune, the same thing\nhas happened to him as to your princess. The king, his father, would\nhave married him against his will; but after much importunity, he\nfrankly told him, he would have nothing to do with a wife. For this\nreason, he is at this moment imprisoned in an old tower, where I\nmake my residence, and whence I came but just now from admiring him.\n\nI will not absolutely contradict you, replied Danhasch; but my\npretty lady, you must give me leave to be of opinion, till I have\nseen your prince, that no mortal upon earth can come up to the\nbeauty of my princess. Hold thy tongue, cursed sprite, replied\nMaimoune. I tell thee once more that can never be. I will not\ncontend with you, said Danhasch: but the way to be convinced whether\nwhat I say is true or false, is to accept of the proposal I made you\nto go and see my princess, and after that I will go with you to your\nprince.\n\nThere is no need I should take so much pains, replied Maimoune;\nthere is another way to satisfy us both, and that is, for you to\nbring your princess, and place her at my prince\u2019s bed-side; by\nthis means, it will be easy for us to compare them together and\ndetermine the dispute.\n\nDanhasch consented to what Maimoune had proposed, and determined to\nset out immediately for China, upon that errand. But Maimoune drew\nhim aside, and told him she must first show him the tower whither he\nwas to bring the princess. They flew together to the tower; and when\nMaimoune had shown it to Danhasch, she cried, Go, fetch your\nprincess, and do it quickly, for you shall find me here; but hear\nme; I mean you should at least pay the wager, if my prince is more\nbeautiful than your princess, and I will pay it if your princess is\nmore beautiful than my prince.\n\nDanhasch left Maimoune, and flew towards China, whence he soon\nreturned with incredible speed, bringing the fair princess along\nwith him asleep. Maimoune received him, and introduced him into the\nchamber of prince Camaralzaman, where they placed the princess by\nthe prince\u2019s side.\n\nWhen the prince and princess were thus laid together, there arose a\ngreat contest between the genie and the fairy about the preference\nof their beauty. They were some time admiring and comparing them\nwithout speaking. At length Danhasch broke silence, and said to\nMaimoune, You see, and I have already told you, my princess was\nhandsomer than your prince; now, I hope, you are convinced of it.\n\nHow! convinced of it! replied Maimoune; I am not convinced of it,\nand you must be blind, if you cannot see that my prince has the\nbetter in the comparison. The princess is fair, I do not deny; but\nif you compare them together without prejudice, you will quickly see\nthe difference.\n\nThough I should compare them never so often, said Danhasch, I could\nnever change my opinion. I saw at first sight what I see now, and\ntime will not make me see differently: however, this shall not\nhinder my yielding to you, charming Maimoune, if you desire it. I\nwould not have you yield to me as a favour! I scorn it, said\nMaimoune: I would not receive a favour at the hand of such a wicked\ngenie. I refer the matter to an umpire, and if you will not consent,\nI shall win by your refusal.\n\nDanhasch, who was ready to have shown a different kind of\ncomplaisance for Maimoune, no sooner gave his consent, but Maimoune\nstamping with her foot, the earth opened, and out came a hideous,\nhump-backed, squinting, and lame genie, with six horns on his head,\nand claws on his hands and feet. As soon as he was come out, and the\nearth had closed up, he, perceiving Maimoune, cast himself at her\nfeet; and then, rising up on one knee, asked her what she would\nplease to have with him.\n\nRise, Caschcasch, said Maimoune; I brought you hither to determine a\ndifference between me and this cursed Danhasch. --Look on that bed,\nand tell me, without partiality, which is the handsomest of those\ntwo that lie there asleep, the young man or the young lady.\n\nCaschcasch looked on the prince and princess with great attention,\nadmiration, and surprise; and after he had considered them a good\nwhile, without being able to determine which was the handsomer, he\nturned to Maimoune, and said, Madam, I must confess I should deceive\nyou, and betray myself, if I pretended to say one was a whit\nhandsomer than the other: the more I examine them, the more it seems\nto me each possesses, in a sovereign degree, the beauty which is\nbetwixt them; and one has not the least detect by which to say it\nyields to the other. But if there be any difference, the best way to\ndetermine it is, to awaken them one after the other, and to agree\nthat the person who shall express most love for the other by ardour,\neagerness, and passion, shall be deemed to have less beauty in some\nrespect.\n\nThis proposal of Caschcasch\u2019s pleased equally both Maimoune and\nDanhasch. Maimoune then changed herself into a flea, and, leaping on\nthe prince\u2019s neck, stung him so smartly, that he awoke, and put up\nhis hand to the place; but Maimoune skipped away, and resumed her\npristine form, which, like those of the two genies, was invisible,\nthe better to observe what he would do.\n\nIn drawing back his hand, the prince chanced to let it fall on that\nof the princess of China. He opened his eyes, and was exceedingly\nsurprised to find a lady lying by him, a lady of the greatest\nbeauty. He raised his head, and leaned on his elbow, the better to\nconsider her. Her blooming youth and incomparable beauty fired him\nin a moment with a flame of which he had never yet been sensible,\nand from which he had hitherto guarded himself with the greatest\nattention.\n\nLove seized on his heart in the most lively manner, insomuch that he\ncould not help crying out, What beauty! what charms! my heart! my\nsoul! In saying which, he kissed her forehead, both her cheeks, and\nher mouth, with so little caution, that she had certainly been\nawaked by it, had not she slept sounder than ordinary, through the\nenchantment of Danhasch.\n\nHow! my pretty lady, said the prince, do you not awake at these\ntestimonies of love given you by prince Camaralzaman? Whosoever you\nare, he is not unworthy of your affection. He was going to awake her\nat that instant, but suddenly restrained himself. Is not this she,\nsaid he, that the sultan my father would have had me marry? He was\nin the wrong not to let me see her sooner; I should not have\noffended him by my disobedience and passionate language to him in\npublic, and he would have spared himself the confusion which I have\noccasioned him.\n\nThe prince began to repent sincerely of the fault he had committed\nand was once more upon the point of awaking the princess of China.\nIt may be, said he, recollecting himself, the sultan my father has a\nmind to surprise me, and has sent this young lady to try if I had\nreally that aversion to marriage which I pretended. Who knows but he\nhas brought her himself, and is hid behind the hangings, to discover\nhimself and make me ashamed of my dissimulation? This second fault\nwould be greater than the first. At all events, I will content\nmyself with this ring, as a remembrance of her.\n\nHe then gently drew off a fine ring which the princess had on her\nfinger, and immediately put on one of his own in the place. After\nthis he turned his back, and was not long before he fell into a more\nprofound sleep than before, through the enchantment of the genies.\n\nAs soon as prince Camaralzaman was in a sound sleep, Danhasch\ntransformed himself into a flea in his turn, and went and bit the\nprincess so rudely on the lip, that she forthwith awoke, started up,\nand opening her eyes, was not a little surprised to see a man lying\nby her side. From surprise she proceeded to admiration, and from\nadmiration to a transport of joy, at seeing so beautiful and lovely\na young man.\n\nWhat! cried she, is it you the king my father has designed me for a\nhusband? I am indeed most unfortunate for not knowing it before, for\nthen I should not have made him so angry with me, nor been so long\ndeprived of a husband, whom I cannot forbear loving with all my\nheart. Wake then, wake! proceeded she, for it does not become a\nhusband to sleep so soundly the first night of his nuptials.\n\nSo saying, she took prince Camaralzaman by the arm, and shook him so\nviolently, that he would have awaked, had not Maimoune increased his\nsleep, and augmented his enchantment. She shook him several times,\nand finding that he did not awake, she cried, What is come to thee?\nwhat jealous rival, envying thy happiness and mine, has had recourse\nto magic to throw thee into this unsurmountable drowsiness when thou\nshouldst be most awake? Then she seized his hand, and kissing it\neagerly, perceived he had a ring upon his finger which greatly\nresembled hers, and which she was convinced was her own, by seeing\nshe had another on her finger instead of it. She could not\ncomprehend how this exchange could be made; yet she did not doubt\nbut it was a certain token of their marriage. Tired with her\nfruitless endeavours to awake the prince, and assured, as she\nthought, he could not escape her; Since, said she, I find it is not\nin my power to awake thee, I will no longer try to disturb thy\nrepose, but wait our next meeting. After having given him a hearty\nkiss on the cheek, she lay down again and soon fell asleep.\n\nWhen Maimoune saw that she could now speak without fear of awaking\nthe princess, she cried to Danhasch, Ah, cursed genie, dost thou not\nnow see what thy contest is come to? Art thou not now convinced how\nmuch thy princess is inferior to my prince in charms? But I pardon\nthee thy wager. Another time believe me when I assert any thing.\nThen turning to Caschcasch, As for you, said she, I thank you for\nyour trouble: take the princess, in conjunction with Danhasch, and\nconvey her back again to her bed, from whence he has taken her.\nDanhasch and Caschcasch did as they were commanded, and Maimoune\nreturned to her well.\n\nPrince Camaralzaman waking next morning, looked to see if the lady\nwhom he had seen the night before were by him. When he found she was\ngone, he cried out, I thought indeed this was a trick the king, my\nfather, designed to play me. I am glad I was aware of it. Then he\nwaked the slave, who was still asleep, and bid him come and dress\nhim, without saying any thing to him. The slave brought a basin and\nwater, and after he had washed and said his prayers, he took a book\nand read some time.\n\nAfter those usual exercises, he called the slave, and said to him,\nCome hither, and look you do not tell me a lie. How came the lady\nhither who lay with me to-night, and who brought her?\n\nMy lord, answered the slave, with great astonishment, I know not\nwhat lady your highness speaks of. I speak, said the prince, of her\nthat came, or rather that was brought hither, and lay with me\nto-night. My lord, replied the slave, I swear I know of no such\nlady; and how should she come in without my knowledge, since I lay\nat the door?\n\nYou are a lying rascal, replied the prince, and in the plot to vex\nand provoke me the more. So saying, he gave him a box on the ear,\nwhich knocked him down; and after having stamped upon him for some\ntime, at length tying the well-rope under his arms, he plunged him\nseveral times into the water. I will drown thee, cried he, if thou\ndost not tell me speedily who this lady was, and who brought her.\n\nThe slave, perplexed and half dead, said within himself, the prince\nmust have lost his senses through grief, and I shall not escape if I\ndo not tell him a lie. My lord, then cried he, in a suppliant tone,\nI beseech your highness to spare my life, and I will tell you the\ntruth.\n\nThe prince drew the slave up, and pressed him to tell him. As soon\nas he was out of the well, my lord, said he trembling, your highness\nmust perceive it is impossible for me to satisfy you in my present\ncondition; I beg you to give me leave to go and change my clothes\nfirst. I permit you, but do it quickly, said the prince; and be sure\nyou conceal nothing.\n\nThe slave went out, and having locked the door upon the prince, ran\nto the palace just as he was. The king was at that time in discourse\nwith his prime vizier, to whom he had just related the grief in\nwhich he had passed the night on account of his son\u2019s\ndisobedience, and opposition to his will.\n\nThe minister endeavoured to comfort his master, by telling him, the\nprince himself had given him opportunity to reduce him. Sir, said\nhe, your majesty need not repent of having treated your son after\nthis sort. Have but patience to let him continue awhile in prison,\nand assure yourself his heat of youth will abate, and he will submit\nto all you require.\n\nThe grand vizier had just made an end of speaking, when the slave\ncame in, and cast himself at king Schahzaman\u2019s feet. My lord, said\nhe, I am very sorry to be the messenger of ill news to your majesty,\nwhich I know must create you fresh affliction. The prince is\ndistracted, my lord; what he talks of a lady having lain with him\nall night, and his treatment to me, as you may see, too plainly\nproves it. Then he proceeded to tell all the particulars of what\nprince Camaralzaman had said to him, and the violence with which he\nhad been treated, in terms that made his story credible.\n\nThe king, who did not expect to hear any thing of this afflictive\nkind, said to the prime minister, This is a very melancholy turn,\nvery different from the hopes you gave me just now: go immediately,\nwithout loss of time, see what is the matter, and come and give me\nan account.\n\nThe grand vizier obeyed instantly; and coming into the prince\u2019s\nchamber, he found him sitting on his bed in good temper, and with a\nbook in his hand, which he was reading.\n\nAfter mutual salutations, the vizier sat down by him, and said, My\nlord, I wish that a slave of yours was punished for coming to\nfrighten the king, your father, by news that he has brought him.\n\nWhat news is that, replied the prince, that could give my father so\ngreat alarm? I have much greater cause to complain of that slave.\n\nPrince, answered the vizier, God forbid that the news which he has\ntold your father concerning you should be true; indeed, I myself\nfind it to be false, by the good temper I observe you in, and which\nI pray God to continue. It may be, replied the prince, he did not\nmake himself well understood; but since you are come, who ought to\nknow something of the matter, give me leave to ask you, who was that\nlady that lay with me last night?\n\nThe grand vizier was thunderstruck at this question: however, he\nrecovered himself, and said, My lord, be not surprised at my\nastonishment at your question. Is it possible, that a lady, or any\nother person in the world, should penetrate by night into this\nplace, without entering at the door, and walking over the body of\nyour slave? I beseech you recollect yourself, and you will find it\nis only a dream which has made this impression on you.\n\nI give no ear to what you say, said the prince, raising his voice; I\nmust know of you absolutely what is become of the lady; and if you\nscruple to obey me, I am in a place where I shall soon be able to\nforce you to obey me.\n\nAt these stern words, the grand vizier began to be under greater\nconfusion than before, and was thinking how to extricate himself. He\nendeavoured to pacify the prince by good words, and begged of him,\nin the most humble and guarded manner, to tell him if he had seen\nthis lady.\n\nYes, yes, answered the prince, I have seen her, and am very well\nsatisfied you sent her to tempt me. She played the part you had\ngiven her admirably well, for I could not get a word out of her. She\npretended to be asleep, but I was no sooner got into a slumber; than\nshe arose and left me. You know all this: for I doubt not she has\nbeen to make her report to you.\n\nMy lord, replied the vizier, I swear to you nothing of this has been\nacted, which you seem to reproach me with; neither your father nor I\nhave sent this lady you speak of; permit me, therefore, to remind\nyour highness once more, you have only seen this lady in a dream.\n\nDo you come to affront and contradict me, said the prince in a great\nrage, and to tell me to my face, that what I have told you is a\ndream? At the same time, he took him by the beard, and loaded him\nwith blows, as long as he could stand.\n\nThe poor grand vizier endured with respectful patience all the\nviolence of his lord\u2019s indignation, and could not help saying\nwithin himself, Now am I in as bad a condition as the slave, and\nshall think myself happy if I can, like him, escape from farther\ndanger. In the midst of repeated blows, he cried out for a\nmoment\u2019s audience, which the prince, after he had nearly tired\nhimself with beating him, consented to give him.\n\nI own, my prince, said the grand vizier, dissembling, there is\nsomething in what your highness suspects: but you cannot be ignorant\nof the necessity a minister is under to obey his royal master\u2019s\norders; yet if you will but be pleased to set me at liberty, I will\ngo and tell him any thing on your part that you shall think fit to\ncommand me. Go, then, said the prince, and tell him from me, if he\npleases, I will marry the lady he sent me, or rather that was\nbrought to me last night Do this quickly, and bring me a speedy\nanswer. The grand vizier made a profound reverence, and went away,\nnot thinking himself altogether safe till he had got out of the\ntower, and shut the door upon the prince.\n\nHe came and presented himself before king Schahzaman, with a\ncountenance that sufficiently showed he had been ill used, and which\nthe king could not behold without concern. Well, said the king, in\nwhat condition did you find my son? Sir, answered the vizier, what\nthe slave reported to your majesty is but too true. He then began to\nrelate his interview with Camaralzaman, how he flew into a passion\nupon his endeavouring to persuade him it was impossible the lady he\nspoke of should have got in to him; the ill-treatment he had\nreceived from him; how he had used him, and by what means he made\nhis escape.\n\nSchahzaman, so much the more concerned as he loved the prince with\nexcessive tenderness, resolved to find out the truth of this matter,\nand therefore proposed himself, to go and see his son in the tower,\naccompanied with the grand vizier.\n\nPrince Camaralzaman received the king, his father, in the tower\nwhere he was confined, with great respect. The king sat down, and\nafter he had made his son the prince sit down by him, put several\nquestions to him, which he answered with great good sense. The king\nevery now and then looked on the grand vizier, as intimating he did\nnot find his son had lost his wits, but rather thought he had lost\nhis.\n\nThe king at length spoke of the lady to the prince. My son, said he,\nI desire you to tell me what lady it was that lay with you the other\nnight, as I have been told.\n\nSir, answered Camaralzaman, I beg your majesty not to give me more\nvexation on that head, but rather to oblige me by letting me have\nher in marriage: whatever aversion I may hitherto have discovered\nfor women, this young lady has charmed me to that degree, that I\ncannot help confessing my weakness. I am ready to receive her at\nyour majesty\u2019s hands, with the deepest gratitude.\n\nKing Schahzaman was surprised at this answer of the prince, so\nremote, as he thought, from the good sense he had shown before. My\nson, said he to him, you fill me with the greatest astonishment\nimaginable by what you now say to me; I swear to you by my crown,\nthat is to devolve upon you after me, I know not one word of the\nlady you mention; and if any such has come to you, it was altogether\nwithout my knowledge or privity. But how could she get into this\ntower without my consent? For whatever my grand vizier told you, it\nwas only to appease you: it must therefore be a mere dream; and I\nbeg of you not to believe otherwise, but recover your senses.\n\nSir, replied the prince, I should be for ever unworthy of your\nmajesty\u2019s favour, if I did not give entire credit to what you are\npleased to say; but I humbly beseech you at the same time to give a\npatient hearing to what I shall say to you, and then to judge\nwhether what I have the honour to tell you be a dream or not.\n\nThen prince Camaralzaman related to the king his father after what\nmanner he had been awaked, exaggerating the beauty and charms of the\nlady he found by his side, the instantaneous love he conceived for\nher, and the pains he took to awaken her without effect. He did not\nconceal what had obliged him to awake and fall asleep again, after\nhe had made the exchange of his ring with that of the lady: showing\nthe king the ring, he added, Sir, your majesty must needs know my\nring very well, you have seen it so often. After this I hope you\nwill be convinced that I have not lost my senses, as you have been\nalmost made to believe.\n\nKing Schahzaman was so perfectly convinced of the truth of what his\nson had been telling him, that he had not a word to say, remaining\nastonished for some time, and not being able to utter a syllable.\n\nThe prince took advantage of this opportunity, and said farther,\nSir, the passion I have conceived for this charming lady, whose\nprecious image I bear continually in my mind, is so very great, that\nI cannot resist it. I entreat you therefore to have compassion on\nme, and procure me the happiness of enjoying her.\n\nSon, replied the king, after what I have just heard, and what I see\nby the ring on your finger, I cannot doubt but that your passion is\nreal, and that you have seen this lady, who is the object of it.\nWould to God I knew who she was, and I would make you happy from\nthis moment, and I should be the happiest father in the world! But\nwhat means have I to come at the knowledge of her? Where shall I\nfind her, and how seek for her? How could she get in here, and by\nwhat conveyance, without my consent? Why did she come to sleep with\nyou only to show you her beauty, to kindle a flame of love while she\nslept, and then leave you while you were in a slumber? These things,\nI must confess, are past my finding out; and if Heaven is not so\nfavourable to us as to give some light into them, we, I fear, must\nboth go down to the grave together. So saying, and taking the prince\nby the hand, Come then, my son, let us go and afflict ourselves in\nconjunction; you with hopeless love, and I with seeing you grieve,\nand not being able to remedy your affliction.\n\nKing Schahzaman then led his son out of the tower, and conveyed him\nto the palace, where he was no sooner arrived, than in despair for\nloving an unknown object he fell sick, and took to his bed; the king\nshut himself up with him, and spent many a day in weeping, without\nattending to the affairs of his kingdom.\n\nThe prime minister, who was the only person that had admittance to\nhim, came one day and told him, the whole court, and even the\npeople, began to murmur at not seeing him, and that he did not\nadminister justice every day as he was wont to do; adding, he knew\nnot what disorder it might occasion. I humbly beg your majesty,\ntherefore, proceeded he, to pay some attention, I am sensible your\nmajesty\u2019s company is a great comfort to the prince, and that his\ncompany is a mutual relief to your grief; but then you must not run\nthe risk of letting all be lost. Permit me to propose to your\nmajesty, to remove with the prince to the castle on a little island\nnear the port, where you may give audience to your subjects twice a\nweek only; during these absences the prince will be so agreeably\namused with the beauty, prospect, and good air of the place, that he\nwill bear them with the less uneasiness.\n\nKing Schahzaman approved this proposal; and after the castle, where\nhe had not resided for some time, had been furnished, he removed\nthither with the prince; and, excepting the time that he gave\naudience, as aforesaid, he never left him, but passed all his time\non his son\u2019s pillow, endeavouring to comfort him in sharing his\ngrief.\n\nWhile matters passed thus in the capital of king Schahzaman, the two\ngenies, Danhasch and Caschcasch, had carried the princess of China\nback to the palace where the king had shut her up, and laid her in\nher bed as before.\n\nWhen she awaked next morning, and found by looking to the right and\nto the left, that prince Camaralzaman was not by her, she cried out\nwith such a voice to her women as soon brought them to her bed. Her\nnurse, who presented herself first, desired to be informed what she\nwould please to have, and if any thing disagreeable had happened to\nher.\n\nTell me, said the princess, what is become of the young man that has\npassed the night with me, and whom I love with all my soul? Madam,\nreplied the nurse, we cannot understand your highness, unless you\nwill be pleased to explain yourself.\n\nA young man, the best made and most amiable, said the princess,\nslept with me last night, whom, with all my caresses, I could not\nawake; I ask you where he is?\n\nMadam, answered the nurse, your highness asks us these questions to\njest with us. I beseech you to rise. I am in earnest, said the\nprincess, and I must know where this young man is. Madam, insisted\nthe nurse, you were alone when you went to bed last night; and how\nany man could come to you without our knowledge, we cannot imagine,\nfor we all lay about the door of your chamber, which was locked, and\nI had the key in my pocket.\n\nAt this the princess lost all patience, and catching her nurse by\nthe hair of her head, and giving her two or three sound cuffs, she\ncried, You shall tell me where this young man is, old sorceress, or\nI will beat your brains out.\n\nThe nurse struggled to get from her, and at last succeeded; when she\nwent immediately, with tears in her eyes, and her face all bloody,\nto complain to the queen her mother, who was not a little surprised\nto see her in this condition, and asked who had done this.\n\nMadam, began the nurse, you see how the princess has treated me; she\nhad certainly murdered me, if I had not had the good fortune to\nescape out of her hands. She then began to tell what had been the\ncause of all that violent passion in the princess. The queen was\nsurprised to hear it, and could not guess how she came to be so\ninfatuated, as to take that for a reality which could be no other\nthan a dream. Your majesty must conclude from all this, madam,\ncontinued the nurse, that the princess is out of her senses. You\nwill think so yourself, if you will go and see her.\n\nThe queen\u2019s affection for the princess was too deeply interested\nin what she heard; she ordered the nurse to follow her; and they\nwent together to the princess\u2019s palace that very moment.\n\nThe queen of China sat down by her daughter\u2019s bed-side,\nimmediately upon her arrival in her apartment; and after she had\ninformed herself about her health, began to ask her what had made\nher so angry with her nurse, as to treat her in the manner she had\ndone. Daughter, said she, this is not right; and a great princess\nlike you should not suffer herself to be so transported with passion.\n\nMadam, replied the princess, I plainly perceive your majesty is come\nto mock me; but I declare I will never let you rest till you consent\nI shall marry the young man that lay with me last night. You must\nknow where he is, and therefore I beg of your majesty to let him\ncome in to me again.\n\nDaughter, answered the queen, you surprise me; I know nothing of\nwhat you talk of. Then the princess lost all respect for the queen.\nMadam, replied she, the king my father and you have persecuted me\nabout marrying, when I had no inclination; I now have an\ninclination, and I will have this young man I told you of, for my\nhusband, or I will kill myself.\n\nHere the queen endeavoured to calm the princess by soft words.\nDaughter, said she, you know well you are alone in this apartment;\nhow then could any man come to you? But instead of hearing her, the\nprincess interrupted her, and flew out into such extravagancies as\nobliged the queen to leave her, and retire in great affliction, to\ninform the king of all that had passed.\n\nThe king hearing it, had a mind likewise to be satisfied in person;\nand coming to his daughter\u2019s apartment, asked her if what he had\njust heard was true. Sir, replied the princess, let us talk no more\nof that; I only beseech your majesty to grant me the favour that I\nmay marry the young man I lay with last night.\n\nWhat! daughter, said the king, has any one lain with you last night?\nHow, sir, replied the princess, without giving him time to go on, do\nyou ask me if any one lay with me last night? your majesty knows\nthat but too well. He was the finest and best made youth the sun\never saw. I desire him of you for my husband: I entreat you do not\nrefuse me. But that your majesty may not longer doubt whether I have\nseen this young man, whether he has lain with me, whether I have\ncaressed him, or whether I did not do my utmost to awake him,\nwithout succeeding, see, if you please, this ring. She then reached\nforth her hand, and showed the king a man\u2019s ring on her finger.\nThe king did not know what to make of all this; but as he had\nconfined her as mad, he began to think her more mad than ever:\ntherefore, without saying any thing more to her, for fear she might\ndo violence to herself or somebody about her, he had her chained,\nand shut up more close than ever, allowing her only the nurse to\nwait on her, with a good guard at the door.\n\nThe king, exceedingly concerned at this indisposition of his\ndaughter, sought all possible means to get her cured. He assembled\nhis council, and after having acquainted them with the condition she\nwas in, If any of you, said he, is capable of undertaking her cure,\nand succeeds, I will give her to him in marriage, and make him heir\nto my dominions and crown after my decease.\n\nThe desire of enjoying a handsome young princess, and the hopes of\none day governing so powerful a kingdom as that of China, had a\nstrange effect on an emir, already advanced in age, who was present\nat this council. As he was well skilled in magic, he offered the\nking to cure his daughter, and flattered himself with success. I\nconsent, said the king; but I forgot to tell you one thing, and that\nis, that if you do not succeed, you shall lose your head. It would\nnot be reasonable you should have so great a reward, and yet run no\nrisk on your part: and what I say to you, continued the king, I say\nto all others that shall come after you, that they may consider\nbeforehand what they undertake.\n\nThe emir, however, accepted the condition, and the king conducted\nhim where the princess was. She covered her face as soon as she saw\nthem come in, and cried out, Your majesty surprises me, in bringing\nwith you a man I do not know, and by whom my religion forbids me to\nbe seen. Daughter, replied the king, you need not be scandalized, it\nis only one of my emirs who is come to demand you of me in marriage.\nIt is not, I perceive, the person that you have already given me,\nand whose faith is plighted by the ring I wear, replied the\nprincess: be not offended that I will never marry any other.\n\nThe emir expected the princess would have said or done some\nextravagant thing, and was not a little disappointed when he heard\nher talk so calmly and rationally; for then he knew her disease was\nnothing but a violent and deep-rooted love-passion. He dared not\nexplain himself to the king, who would not have suffered the\nprincess to give her hand to any other than the person to whom he\nwished to give her with his own hand. He therefore threw himself at\nhis majesty\u2019s feet, and said, After what I have heard and\nobserved, sir, it will be to no purpose for me to think of curing\nthe princess, since I have no remedies proper for her malady; for\nwhich reason I humbly submit my life to your majesty\u2019s pleasure.\nThe king, enraged at his incapacity, and the trouble he had given\nhim, caused him immediately to be beheaded.\n\nSome days after, his majesty, unwilling to have it said that he had\nneglected his daughter\u2019s cure, put forth a proclamation in his\ncapital, importing, that if there were any physician, astrologer, or\nmagician, who would undertake to restore the princess to her senses,\nhe need only come, and he should be employed, on condition of losing\nhis head if he miscarried. He had the same published in the other\nprincipal cities and towns of his dominions, and in the courts of\nthe princes his neighbours.\n\nThe first that presented himself was an astrologer and magician,\nwhom the king caused to be conducted to the princess\u2019s prison by a\neunuch. The astrologer drew forth, out of a bag he carried under his\narm, an astrolabe, a small sphere, a chafing-dish, several sorts of\ndrugs proper for fumigations, a brass pot, with many other things,\nand desired he might have a fire lighted.\n\nThe princess demanded what all these preparations were for. Madam,\nanswered the eunuch, they are to exorcise the evil spirit that\npossesses you, to shut him up in this pot, and throw him into the\nsea.\n\nFoolish astrologer, replied the princess, I have no occasion for any\nof your preparations, but am in my perfect senses, and you alone are\nmad. If your art can bring him I love to me, I shall be obliged to\nyou; otherwise you may go about your business, for I have nothing to\ndo with you. Madam, said the astrologer, if your case be so, I shall\ndesist from all endeavours, believing the king your father can only\nremedy your disaster in this particular. So putting up his trinkets\nagain, he marched away, very much concerned that he had so easily\nundertaken to cure an imaginary malady.\n\nComing to give an account to the king of what he had done, he would\nnot wait for the eunuch to speak for him, but began thus boldly:\nAccording to what your majesty published in your proclamation, and\nwhat you were pleased to confirm to me yourself, I thought the\nprincess was distracted, and depended on being able to recover her\nby the secrets I have long been acquainted with; but I soon found\nshe had no other disease than that of love, over which my art had no\npower: your majesty alone is the physician that can cure her, by\ngiving her in marriage to the person whom she desires.\n\nThe king was very much enraged at the astrologer, and had his head\ncut off upon the spot. But his fate did not deter others from making\na similar attempt, so that in a short time, a hundred and fifty\nastrologers, physicians, and magicians, who came upon this account,\nall underwent the same fate; and their heads were set upon poles on\nevery gate of the city.\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of Marzavan, with the sequel of that of the Prince\nCamaralzaman.\n\n\nThe princess of China\u2019s nurse had a son, whose name was Marzavan,\nand who had been foster-brother to the princess, and brought up with\nher. Their friendship was so great during their childhood, and all\nthe time they had been together, that they treated each other as\nbrother and sister, as they grew up, even some time after their\nseparation.\n\nThis Marzavan, among other studies, had from his youth been much\naddicted to judicial astrology, geomancy, and the like secret arts,\nwherein he became exceeding skilful. Not content with what he had\nlearned from masters, he travelled as soon as he was able to bear\nthe fatigue; and there was hardly any person of note in any science\nof art, but he sought him in the most remote cities, and kept\ncompany with him long enough to obtain all the information he\ndesired, so great was his thirst after knowledge.\n\nAfter several years absence in foreign parts on this account, he\nreturned to the capital city of his native country, China; where\nseeing so many heads on the gate by which he entered, he was\nexceedingly surprised; and coming home, demanded for what reason\nthey had been placed there; but more especially he informed himself\nof the condition of the princess his foster-sister, whom he had not\nforgotten. As he could not receive an answer to one inquiry without\nthe other, he heard at length the general account with much sorrow,\nwaiting till he could learn more from his mother, the princess\u2019s\nnurse.\n\nAlthough the nurse, mother to Marzavan, was very much employed about\nthe princess, yet she no sooner heard her dear son was returned, but\nshe found time to come out, embrace him, and converse with him a\nlittle. Having told him, with tears in her eyes, what a sad\ncondition the princess was in; and for what reason the king, her\nfather, had confined her, he desired to know of his mother, if she\ncould not procure him a private sight of her royal mistress, without\nthe king knowing it. After some pause, she told him she could say\nnothing to him for the present, but if he would meet her next day at\nthe same hour, she would give him an answer.\n\nThe nurse knowing none could approach the princess, but herself,\nwithout leave of the eunuch who commanded the guard at the gate,\naddressed herself to him, who she knew was so lately appointed, that\nhe could know nothing of what had before passed at the court of\nChina. You know, said she to him, I have brought up and suckled the\nprincess, and you may likewise have heard that I had a daughter whom\nI brought up along with her. This daughter has been since married;\nyet the princess still does her the honour to love her, and would\nfain see her, but she would do it without any body\u2019s perceiving\nher coming in or out.\n\nThe nurse would have gone on; but the eunuch cried, Say no more; I\nwill with pleasure do any thing to oblige the princess: go and fetch\nyour daughter, or send for her about midnight, and the gate shall be\nopen to you.\n\nAs soon as night came, the nurse went to look for her son, Marzavan,\nand having found him, dressed him so artificially in women\u2019s\nclothes, that nobody could know he was a man. She carried him along\nwith her, and the eunuch verily believing it was her daughter,\nadmitted them together.\n\nThe nurse, before she presented Marzavan went to the princess, and\nsaid, Madam, this is not a woman I have brought to you; it is my\nson, Marzavan, in disguise, newly arrived from his travels, who\nhaving a great desire to kiss your hand, I hope your highness will\nadmit him to that honour.\n\nWhat! my brother Marzavan, said the princess, with great joy; come\nhither, cried she, and take off that veil; for it is not\nunreasonable sure that a brother and a sister should see each other\nwithout covering their faces.\n\nMarzavan saluted her with profound respect; when she, without giving\nhim time to speak, cried out, I am rejoiced to see you returned in\ngood health after so many years\u2019 absence, and without sending the\nleast account all the while of your welfare, even to your good\nmother.\n\nMadam, replied Marzavan, I am infinitely obliged to your highness\nfor your goodness in rejoicing at my health: I hoped to have heard a\nbetter account of yours than what, to my great affliction, I am now\nwitness of; nevertheless, I cannot but rejoice that I am come\nseasonably enough to bring your highness that remedy which you stand\nso much in need of; and though I should reap no other fruit of my\nstudies and long voyage, I should think myself fully recompensed.\n\nSpeaking these words, Marzavan drew forth out of his pocket a book\nand other things, which he judged necessary to be used, according to\nthe account he had had from his mother of the princess\u2019s\ndistemper. The princess seeing him make all these preparations,\ncried out, What! brother, are you then one of those that believe me\nmad? Undeceive yourself, and hear me.\n\nThe princess then began to relate to Marzavan all the particulars of\nher story, without omitting the least circumstance, even to the ring\nwhich was exchanged for hers, and which she showed him. I have not\nconcealed the least matter from you, quoth she; yet it is true,\nthere is something that I cannot comprehend, which has given\noccasion for some persons to think me mad; but this is for want of\nattending to the rest, which is literally as I tell you.\n\nAfter the princess had done speaking, Marzavan, filled with wonder\nand astonishment, continued for some time with his eyes fixed on the\nground, without speaking a word; but at length he lifted up his\nhead, and said, If it be as your highness says, and which I do not\nin the least doubt, I do not despair to procure you the satisfaction\nyou desire; but I must first entreat your highness to arm yourself\nwith patience for some time longer, till I shall return; till I have\ntravelled over kingdoms which I have not yet visited; and when you\nhear of my return, be assured the object of your wishes is not far\noff. So saying, Marzavan took leave of the princess, and set out\nnext morning on his intended voyage.\n\nHe travelled from city to city, from province to province, and from\nisland to island; and in every place he passed through, he could\nhear of nothing but the princess Badoura, which was the princess of\nChina\u2019s name, and her history.\n\nAbout four months after, our traveller arrived at Torf, a seaport\ntown, great and populous, where he no more heard of the princess\nBadoura, but all the talk was of prince Camaralzaman, who was sick,\nand whose history very much resembled hers. Marzavan was extremely\ndelighted to hear this, and informed himself of the place where the\nprince was to be found. There were two ways to it; one by land and\nsea, the other by sea only, which was the shortest way.\n\nMarzavan chose the latter, and embarking on board a merchant ship,\nhe arrived safe in sight of king Schahzaman\u2019s capital; but just\nbefore it entered the port, the ship struck against a rock, by the\nunskilfulness of the pilot, and foundered. It went down in sight of\nprince Camaralzaman\u2019s castle, where were at that time the king and\nhis grand vizier.\n\nMarzavan could swim very well, and immediately upon the ship\u2019s\nsinking, cast himself into the sea, and got safe on shore under the\ncastle, where he was soon relieved by the grand vizier\u2019s order.\nAfter he had changed his clothes, and been well treated, and was\nrecovered, he was introduced to the grand vizier, who had sent for\nhim.\n\nMarzavan being a young man of good air and address, this minister\nreceived him very civilly; and when he heard him give such just and\npertinent answers to what was asked of him, conceived a great esteem\nfor him. He also gradually perceived he possessed a great deal of\nknowledge; therefore said to him, From what I can understand, I\nperceive you are no common man; you have travelled a great way;\nwould to God, you had learned any secret for curing a certain sick\nperson, who has greatly afflicted this court for a long while.\n\nMarzavan replied, If he knew what malady that was, he might perhaps\nfind a remedy for it.\n\nThen the grand vizier related to him the whole story of prince\nCarmaralzaman, from its origin, and concealed nothing; of his birth\nso earnestly desired, his education, the inclination the king, his\nfather, had to see him early married, his resistance, and\nextraordinary aversion to marriage, his disobeying his father in\nfull council, his imprisonment, his pretended extravagancies in\nprison, which were afterwards changed into a violent passion for a\ncertain unknown lady, who, he pretended, had exchanged a ring with\nhim, though, for his part, he verily believed there was no such\nperson in the world.\n\nMarzavan gave great attention to all the grand vizier said, and was\ninfinitely rejoiced to find, that by means of his shipwreck, he had\nso fortunately lighted on the person he was looking after. He saw no\nreason to doubt that prince Camaralzaman was the man the princess of\nChina was so violently in love with, and that this princess was\nequally the object of his passion; therefore, without explaining\nhimself farther to the vizier, he desired to see him, that he might\nbe better able to judge of his distemper and its cure. Follow me,\nsaid the grand vizier, and you will find the king with him, who has\nalready desired I should introduce you to him.\n\nThe first thing that struck Marzavan on entering the prince\u2019s\nchamber, was to find him upon his bed languishing, and with his eyes\nshut. Although he saw them in that condition, and although the king,\nhis father was sitting by him, he could not help crying out,\nHeavens! was there ever a greater resemblance! He meant to the\nprincess of China; for it seems the princess and prince were much\nalike.\n\nThe words of Marzavan excited the prince\u2019s curiosity so far, that\nhe opened his eyes and looked upon him. Marzavan, who had a ready\nwit, laid hold of that opportunity, and made his compliment in verse\nextempore, but in such a disguised manner, that neither the king nor\ngrand vizier understood any thing of the matter. However, he\nrepresented so nicely what had happened to him with the princess of\nChina, that the prince had no reason to doubt he knew her, and could\ngive him tidings of her. This made him so joyful, that the effects\nof it showed themselves in his eyes and looks.\n\nAfter Marzavan had finished his compliments in verse, which\nsurprised prince Camaralzaman so agreeably, his highness took the\nliberty to make a sign to the king, his father, to go from the place\nwhere he was, and let Marzavan sit by him.\n\nThe king, overjoyed at this alteration, which gave him hopes of his\nson\u2019s speedy recovery, quitted his place, and taking Marzavan by\nthe hand, led him to it, obliging him to sit in it. Then his majesty\ndemanded of him who he was, and whence he came; and upon\nMarzavan\u2019s answering he was a subject of China, and came from that\nkingdom, the king cried out, Heaven grant you may be able to recover\nmy son from this profound melancholy, and I shall be eternally\nobliged to you; all the world shall see now handsomely I will reward\nyou. --Having said thus, he left the prince to converse at full\nliberty with the stranger, whilst he went and rejoiced with the\ngrand vizier upon this happy rencontre.\n\nMarzavan, leaning down to the prince, spoke low in his ear thus:\nPrince, said he, it is time you should cease to grieve. The lady for\nwhom you suffer is the princess Badoura, daughter of Gaiour, king of\nChina. This I can assure your highness from what she has told me of\nher adventure, and what I have learned of yours. She has suffered no\nless on your account, than you have on hers. Here he began to relate\nall that he knew of the princess\u2019s story, from the fatal night of\ntheir extraordinary interview.\n\nHe omitted not to acquaint him, how the king had treated those who\nhad failed in their pretensions to cure the princess of her\nindisposition. But your highness is the only person, added he, that\ncan cure her effectually, and may present yourself without fear.\nHowever, before you undertake so great a voyage, I would have you\nperfectly recovered, and then we will take such measures as are\nnecessary. Think then, immediately, of the recovery of your health.\n\nThis discourse had a marvellous effect on the prince: he found so\ngreat relief by the hopes he conceived of speedily fulfilling his\ndesires, that he felt he had strength sufficient to rise, and begged\nleave of his father to dress himself with such an air, as gave the\nold king incredible pleasure.\n\nKing Schahzaman could not refrain from embracing Marzavan, without\ninquiring into the means he had used to produce this wonderful\neffect; and soon after went out of the prince\u2019s chamber with the\ngrand vizier, to publish this agreeable news. He ordered public\nrejoicings for several days together, and gave great largesses to\nhis officers and the people, alms to the poor, and caused the\nprisoners to be set at liberty throughout his kingdom. The joy was\nsoon general in the capital, and in every corner of his dominions.\n\nPrince Camaralzaman, though extremely weakened by almost continual\nwant of sleep, and long abstinence from almost all food, soon\nrecovered his health. When he found himself in a condition to\nundertake the voyage, he took Marzavan aside, and said, Dear\nMarzavan, it is now time to perform the promise you have made me. I\nburn with impatience to see the charming princess; and if you do not\nspeedily give me an opportunity to put an end to her torments and my\nown, by setting out on our journey immediately, I shall soon relapse\ninto my former condition. One thing still afflicts me, continued he,\nand that is the difficulty I shall meet with in getting leave of my\nfather to go. This would be a cruel disappointment to me, if you do\nnot contrive a way to prevent it. You see he scarce ever leaves me.\n\nAt these words the prince fell to weeping; and Marzavan said, I\nforesaw this difficulty; let not your highness be grieved at that,\nfor I will undertake to prevent it. My principal design in this\nvoyage was to deliver the princess of China from her malady, and\nthis from all the reasons of mutual affection which we have borne to\neach other from our birth, besides the zeal and affection I\notherwise owe her; and I should be wanting in my duty to her, if I\ndid not do my best endeavour to effect her cure and yours, and exert\nmy utmost skill. This is then the means I have contrived to obtain\nyour liberty: you have not stirred abroad for some time, therefore\nlet the king, your father, understand you have a mind to take the\nair, and ask his leave to go out on a hunting party two or three\ndays with me. No doubt he will grant your request; which when he has\ndone, order two good horses to be got ready, one to mount, the other\nto change, and leave the rest to me.\n\nNext day, prince Camaralzaman took his opportunity. He acquainted\nthe king, he was desirous to take the air, and if he pleased, would\ngo and hunt two or three days with Marzavan. The king gave his\nconsent, but bid him be sure not to lie out above one night, since\ntoo much exercise at first might impair his health, and too long\nabsence create his majesty uneasiness. He then ordered him to choose\nthe best horses in his stable, and himself took particular care that\nnothing should be wanting. When all was ready, his majesty embraced\nthe prince, and having recommended to Marzavan the care of him, he\nlet him go. Prince Camaralzaman and Marzavan were soon mounted;\nwhen, to amuse the two grooms that led the fresh horses, they made\nas if they would hunt, and so got as far off the city and out of the\nroad as was possible. When night began to approach, they alighted at\na caravansera or inn, where they supped, and slept till about\nmidnight, when Marzavan awaked the prince, without awaking the\ngrooms, and desired his highness to let him have his suit, and to\ntake another for himself, which was brought in his baggage. Thus\nequipped, they mounted the fresh horses, and after Marzavan had\ntaken one of the groom\u2019s horses by the bridle, they set out as\nhard as their horses could go.\n\nAt daybreak, they were got into a forest, where, coming to the\nmeeting of four roads, Marzavan desired the prince to wait for him a\nlittle, and went into the forest. He then cut the groom\u2019s\nhorse\u2019s throat, and after having torn the prince\u2019s suit, which\nhe had put off, besmearing it with blood, he threw it into the\nhighway.\n\nThe prince demanded his reason for what he had done. He told his\nhighness he was sure the king, his father, would no sooner find that\nhe did not return, and come to know that he was departed without the\ngrooms, but he would suspect something, and immediately send people\nin quest of them. They that come to this place, said he, and find\nthis bloody habit, will conclude you are devoured by wild beasts,\nand that I have escaped to avoid the king\u2019s anger. The king,\npersuading himself you are dead, will stop farther pursuit, and we\nmay have leisure to continue our journey without fear of being\nfollowed. I must confess, continued Marzavan, this is a violent way\nof proceeding, to alarm an old father with the death of his son,\nwhom he loves so passionately; but his joy will be the greater when\nhe shall hear you are alive and happy. --Brave Marzavan, replied the\nprince, I cannot but approve such an ingenious stratagem, or\nsufficiently admire your conduct; I have fresh obligations to you\nfor it.\n\nThe prince and Marzavan, well provided with cash for their expenses,\ncontinued their journey both by land and sea, and found no other\nobstacle, but the length of the time which it necessarily took up.\nThey, however, arrived at length at the capital of China, where\nMarzavan, instead of going to his lodging, carried the prince to a\npublic inn. They tarried there incognito three days, to rest\nthemselves after the fatigue of the voyage; during which time,\nMarzavan caused an astrologer\u2019s habit to be made for the prince.\nThe three days being expired, they went together to the bath, where\nthe prince put on his astrologer\u2019s habit; and from thence Marzavan\nconducted him in sight of the king of China\u2019s palace, where he\nleft him, to go and acquaint his mother, the princess Badoura\u2019s\nnurse, of his arrival, to the end she might inform the princess.\n\nPrince Camaralzaman, instructed by Marzavan what he was to do, and\nprovided with all he wanted as an astrologer, came next morning to\nthe gate of the king\u2019s palace, before the guards and porters, and\ncried aloud, I am an astrologer, and am come to effect a cure on the\nrespectable princess Badoura, daughter of the most high and mighty\nmonarch Gaiour, king of China, on the conditions proposed by his\nmajesty, to marry her if I succeed, or else to lose my life for my\nfruitless and presumptuous attempt.\n\nBesides the guards and porters at the gate, this novelty drew\ntogether a great number of people about prince Camaralzaman. There\nhad no physician, astrologer, nor magician appeared for a long time\non this account, deterred by the many tragical examples of ill\nsuccess that appeared before their eyes; it was therefore thought\nthere were no more of these professions in the world, or that there\nwere none so mad as those that had gone before them.\n\nThe prince\u2019s good mien, noble air, and blooming youth, made every\nbody that saw him pity him. What mean you, sir, said some that were\nnearest to him, thus to expose a life of such promising expectations\nto certain death? Cannot the heads you see on all the gates of this\ncity deter you from such an undertaking? In the name of God,\nconsider what you do; abandon this rash attempt, and begone.\n\nThe prince continued firm, notwithstanding all these remonstrances;\nand as he saw nobody come to introduce him, he repeated the same cry\nwith a boldness that made every body tremble. They all then cried,\nLet him alone, he is resolved to die; God have mercy upon his youth\nand his soul! --He then proceeded to cry out a third time in the\nsame manner, when the grand vizier came in person, and introduced\nhim to the king of China.\n\nAs soon as the prince came into the king\u2019s presence, he bowed and\nkissed the ground. The king, who, of all that had hitherto\npresumptuously exposed their lives on this occasion, had not seen\none worthy to cast his eyes upon before, felt real compassion for\nprince Camaralzaman, on account of the danger he was about to\nundergo. But as he saw him more deserving than ordinary, he showed\nhim more honour, and made him come and sit by him. Young man, said\nhe, I can hardly believe you, at this age, can have acquired\nexperience enough to dare attempt the cure of my daughter. I wish\nyou may succeed, and would give her to you in marriage with all my\nheart, with the greatest joy, more willingly than I should have done\nto others that have offered themselves before you; but I must\ndeclare to you, at the same time, with great concern, that if you do\nnot succeed in your attempt, notwithstanding your noble appearance\nand your youth, you must lose your head.\n\nSir, replied the prince, I have infinite obligations to your majesty\nfor the honour you design me, and the great goodness you show to a\nstranger; but I desire your majesty to believe I would not have come\nfrom so remote a country as I have done, the name of which, perhaps,\nmay be unknown in your dominions, if I had not been certain of the\ncure I propose. What would not the world say of my fickleness, if,\nafter so great fatigues and dangers as I have undergone on this\naccount, I should abandon this generous enterprise? Even your\nmajesty would soon lose that esteem you have conceived for me. If I\nmust die, sir, I shall die with the satisfaction of not having lost\nyour esteem after I have merited it. I beseech your majesty,\ntherefore, to keep me no longer impatient to display the certainty\nof my art, by the proof I am ready to give of it.\n\nThen the king commanded the eunuch, who had the custody of the\nprincess, to introduce prince Camaralzaman into her apartment; but\nbefore he would let him go, he reminded him once more that he was at\nliberty to renounce his design; yet the prince paid no regard, but,\nwith astonishing resolution and eagerness, followed the eunuch.\n\nWhen they came to a long gallery, at the end of which was the\nprincess\u2019s apartment, the prince, who saw himself so near the\nobject of his wishes, who had occasioned him so many tears, pushed\non, and got before the eunuch.\n\nThe eunuch, redoubling his pace, with much ado got up with him.\nWhither away so fast? cried he, taking him by the arm; you cannot\nget in without me; and it should seem you have a great desire for\ndeath, thus to run to it headlong. Not one of all those many\nastrologers and magicians I have introduced before made such haste\nas yourself to a place whither I fear you will come but too soon.\n\nFriend, replied the prince, looking earnestly on the eunuch, and\ncontinuing his pace, this was because none of the astrologers you\nspeak of were so sure of their art as I am of mine: they were\ncertain, indeed, they should die if they did not succeed, but they\nhad no certainty of their success. On this account they had reason\nto tremble on approaching the place whither I go, and where I am\nsure to find my happiness. He had just spoke these words as he was\nat the door. The eunuch opened it, and introduced him into a great\nhall, whence was an entrance into the princess\u2019s chamber, divided\nfrom it only by a piece of tapestry.\n\nPrince Camaralzaman stopt before he entered, speaking more softly to\nthe eunuch for fear of being heard in the princess\u2019s chamber. To\nconvince you, said he, there is neither presumption, nor whim, nor\nyouthful conceit, in my undertaking, I leave it to your own desire,\nwhether I should cure the princess in your presence, or where we\nare, without going any farther.\n\nThe eunuch was amazed to hear the prince talk to him with such\nconfidence; he left off insulting him, and said seriously to him, It\nis no matter whether you do it here or there, provided the business\nis done: cure her how you will, you will get immortal honour by it,\nnot only in this court, but over all the world.\n\nThe prince replied, It will be best, then, to cure her without\nseeing her, that you may be witness of my skill. Notwithstanding my\nimpatience to see a princess of her rank, who is to be my wife, yet,\nout of respect to you, I will deprive myself of that pleasure for a\nlittle while. He was furnished with everything proper for an\nastrologer to carry about him: taking pen, ink, and paper, out of\nhis pocket, he wrote this billet to the princess:--\n\n\n\n\nPrince Camaralzaman to the Princess of China.\n\n\n\u2018Adorable princess!\n\n\u2018The love-sick prince Camaralzaman will not trouble you with a\nrecital of the inexpressible pains that he has endured ever since\nthat fatal night in which your charms deprived him of the liberty\nwhich he resolved to preserve as long as he lived. He only tells you\nthat he devoted his heart to you in your charming slumbers; those\nimportunate slumbers that hindered him from beholding the brightness\nof your piercing eyes, in spite of all his endeavours to oblige you\nto open them. He presumed to present you with his ring as a token of\nhis passion; and to take yours in exchange, which he sends in this\nbillet. If you will condescend to return it, as a reciprocal pledge\nof your love, he will esteem himself the happiest of all lovers. If\nnot, the sentence of death, which your refusal brings him, will be\nreceived with the more resignation, because he dies for love of you.\nHe waits in your ante-chamber for your answer.\u2019\n\nWhen the prince had finished his billet, he folded it up, and\nenclosed in it the princess\u2019s ring, without letting the eunuch see\nwhat he did. When he had sealed it, he gave it to him: There,\nfriend, said he, carry it to your mistress; if it does not cure her\nas soon as she reads it, and sees what is inclosed in it, I give you\nleave to tell every body that I am the most ignorant and impudent\nastrologer that ever was, is, or ever will be.\n\nThe eunuch, entering the princess of China\u2019s chamber, gave her the\npacket he received from prince Camaralzaman. Madam, said he, the\nboldest astrologer that ever lived, if I am not mistaken, is arrived\nhere, and pretends, that on reading this letter, and seeing what is\nin it, you will be cured; I wish he may prove neither a liar nor\nimpostor.\n\nThe princess Badoura took this billet, and opened it with a great\ndeal of indifference: but when she saw the ring, she had not\npatience to read it through: she rose hastily, broke the chain that\nheld her by struggling, ran to the door, and opened it. She knew the\nprince as soon as she saw him, and he knew her: they presently\nembraced each other tenderly, and without being able to speak for\nexcess of joy: they looked on one another a long time, wondering how\nthey met again after their first interview. The princess\u2019s nurse,\nwho ran to the door with her, made them come into her chamber, where\nthe princess Badoura gave the prince her ring, saying, Take it, I\ncannot keep it without restoring yours, which I will never part\nwith; neither can it be in better hands.\n\nThe eunuch went immediately to tell the king of China what had\nhappened. Sir, said he, all the astrologers and doctors who have\nhitherto pretended to cure the princess, were fools in comparison of\nthe last. He made use neither of schemes nor conjurations, of\nperfumes, or any thing else, but cured her without seeing her. Then\nhe told the king how he did it. The monarch was agreeably surprised\nat the news, and going presently to the princess\u2019s chamber,\nembraced her: he afterwards embraced the prince, and, taking his\nhand, joined it to the princess\u2019s. Happy stranger, said the king,\nwhoever you are, I will keep my word, and give you my daughter to\nwife; though, by what I see in you, it is impossible for me to\nbelieve you are really what you appear, and would have me believe\nyou to be.\n\nPrince Camaralzaman thanked the king in the most humble expressions,\nthat he might the better show his gratitude. As for my person, said\nhe, I must own I am not an astrologer, as your majesty very\njudiciously guessed; I only put on the habit of one, that I might\nsucceed more easily in my ambition to be allied to the most potent\nmonarch in the world. I was born a prince, and the son of a king and\nof a queen; my name is Camaralzaman; my father is Schahzaman, who\nnow reigns over the islands that are well known by the name of the\nIslands of the Children of Khaledan. He then told him his history,\nand how wonderful was the rise of his love; that the princess\u2019s\nwas altogether as marvellous; and that both were confirmed by the\nexchange of the two rings.\n\nWhen the prince had done speaking, the king said to him, This\nhistory is so extraordinary, it deserves to be known to posterity; I\nwill take care it shall; and the original being deposited in my\nroyal archives, I will spread copies of it abroad, that my own\nkingdom and the kingdoms around me may know it.\n\nThe marriage was solemnized the same day, and the rejoicings for it\nwere universal all over the empire of China. Nor was Marzavan\nforgotten: the king gave him an honourable post in his court\nimmediately, and a promise of farther advancement.\n\nPrince Camaralzaman and the princess Badoura enjoyed the fulness of\ntheir wishes in the sweets of marriage; and the king kept continual\nfeastings for several months, to show his joy on the occasion.\n\nIn the midst of these pleasures, prince Camaralzaman dreamt one\nnight, that he saw his father, Schahzaman, on his deathbed, ready to\ngive up the ghost, and heard him speak thus to his attendants: My\nson, to whom I gave birth; my son, whom I so tenderly loved; whom I\nbred with so much fondness, so much care, has abandoned me, and is\nhimself the cause of my death. He awoke with a great sigh, which\nawakened the princess, who asked him the cause of it.\n\nAlas! my love, cried the prince, perhaps in the very moment that I\nam speaking, the king, my father, is no more. He then acquainted her\nwith his melancholy dream, which occasioned him so much uneasiness.\nThe princess, who studied to please him in every thing, did not\nimmediately inform him she had contrived a way to do it, fearing\nthat the desire to see his father again would make him take less\ndelight in her company in a distant country. She went to her own\nfather that very day, and finding him alone, kissed his hand, and\nthus addressed herself to him: Sir, I have a favour to beg of your\nmajesty, and I beseech you not to deny me; but that you may not\nbelieve I ask it at the solicitation of the prince, my husband, I\nassure you beforehand, he knows nothing of my asking it of you; it\nis, that you will give leave for me to go with him and see king\nSchahzaman, my father-in-law.\n\n[Illustration: PRINCE CAMARALZAMAN & THE TALESMAN.]\n\nDaughter, replied the king, though I shall be very sorry to part\nwith you for so long a time as a journey to a place so distant will\ntake up, yet I cannot disapprove of your resolution; it is worthy of\nyourself, notwithstanding the fatigue of so long a journey; go,\nchild, I give you leave, but on condition that you stay no longer\nthan a year in king Schahzaman\u2019s court. I hope the king will agree\nto this, that we shall alternately see, he his son and his\ndaughter-in-law, and I my daughter and my son-in-law.\n\nThe princess communicated the king of China\u2019s consent to prince\nCamaralzaman, who was transported to hear it, and gave her thanks\nfor this new token of her love.\n\nThe king of China gave orders for preparations to be made for the\njourney; and when all things were ready he accompanied the prince\nand princess several days\u2019 journey on their way; they parted at\nlength with great weeping on all sides; the king embraced them, and\nhaving desired the prince to be kind to his daughter, and to love\nher always with the same passion he now loved her, he left them to\nproceed on their journey, and to divert himself, hunted all the way\nas he returned to his capital city.\n\nWhen prince Camaralzaman and the princess Badoura had dried up their\ntears, they comforted themselves with the thought how glad king\nSchahzaman would be to see them, and how they should rejoice to see\nthe king.\n\nThey travelled about a month, and at last came to a meadow of great\nextent, planted at convenient distances with tall trees, forming an\nagreeable shade. The day being unusually hot, Camaralzaman thought\nit best to encamp there, and proposed it to Badoura, who, having the\nsame intention, the more readily consented to it. They alighted in\none of the finest spots; a tent was presently set up; the princess,\nrising from the shade under which she sat down, entered it, and the\nprince ordered his servants to pitch their tents also, while they\nstayed there, and went himself to give directions. The princess,\nweary with the fatigues of the journey, bid her women untie her\ngirdle, which they laid down by her; and she falling asleep, her\nattendants left her by herself.\n\nPrince Camaralzaman having seen all things in order, came to the\ntent where the princess was sleeping; he entered, and sat down\nwithout making any noise, intending to take a nap himself; but\nobserving the princess\u2019s girdle lying by her, he took it up, and\nlooked upon the diamonds and rubies one by one. In doing it, he saw\na little purse hanging to it, sewed neatly on the stuff, and tied\nfast with a riband; he felt it, and found there was something solid\nin it. Desirous to know what it was, he opened the purse, and took\nout a cornelian, engraven with unknown figures and characters. This\ncornelian, said the prince to himself, must be something very\nvaluable, or my princess would not carry it with so much care. It\nwas Badoura\u2019s talisman, [84] which the queen of China had given\nher daughter as a charm, that would keep her, as she said, from any\nharm as long as she had it about her.\n\nThe prince, the better to look at the talisman, took it out to the\nlight, the tent being dark; and while he was holding it up in his\nhand, a bird darted down from the air and snatched it away from him.\n\nIt would be easy to conceive the concern and grief of prince\nCamaralzaman, when he saw the bird fly away with the talisman. [85]\nHe was more troubled at it than words can express, and cursed his\nunseasonable curiosity, by which means his dear princess had lost a\ntreasure that was so precious, and so valued by her.\n\nThe bird having got her prize, settled on the ground not far off,\nwith the talisman in her mouth. The prince drew near it, in hopes\nshe would drop it; but as he approached, the bird took wing, and\nsettled again on the ground farther off. Camaralzaman followed her,\nand the bird having swallowed the talisman, took a farther flight;\nthe prince being very dexterous at a mark, thought to kill her with\na stone, and still followed her; the farther she flew, the more\neager he grew in pursuing her, keeping her always in view. Thus the\nbird drew him along from hill to valley, and valley to hill, all\nday, every step leading him out of the way from the field, where he\nleft his camp, and the princess Badoura; and instead of perching at\nnight on a bush, where he might probably have taken her, she roosted\non a high tree, safe from his pursuit. The prince vexed to the heart\nfor taking so much pains to no purpose, thought of returning to the\ncamp; but, said he to himself, which way shall I return? Shall I go\ndown the hills and valleys which I passed over? Shall I wander in\ndarkness? And will my strength bear me out? How durst I appear\nbefore my princess without her talisman? Overwhelmed with such\nthoughts, and tired with the pursuit, sleep came upon him, and he\nlay down under a tree, where he passed the night.\n\nHe awoke the next morning before the bird had left the tree; and as\nsoon as he saw her on the wing, followed her again that whole day,\nwith no better success than he had done the last, eating nothing but\nherbs and fruits all the way as he went: he did the same for ten\ndays together, pursuing the bird, and keeping her in his eye from\nmorning to night, lying always under the tree where she roosted. On\nthe eleventh day the bird continued flying, and Camaralzaman\nobserving her, he came near a great city. When the bird came to the\nwalls, she flew over them, and the prince saw no more of her: so he\ndespaired of ever recovering the princess Badoura\u2019s talisman.\n\nCamaralzaman, whose grief was beyond expression, went into the city,\nwhich was built on the sea side, and had a fine port; he walked up\nand down the streets without knowing where he was, or where to stop:\nat last he came to the port, in as great uncertainty as ever what he\nshould do. Walking along the river side, he perceived the gate of a\ngarden open, and an old gardener at work in it; the good man looking\nup, saw he was a stranger and a Mussulman; so he asked him to come\nin, and shut the door after him.\n\nCamaralzaman entered, and as the gardener bade him shut the door,\ndemanded of the gardener why he was so cautious. Because, replied\nthe old man. I see you are a stranger newly arrived and a Mussulman;\nand this city is inhabited for the most part by idolaters, who have\na mortal aversion to us Mussulmen, and treat those few of us that\nare here with great barbarity. I suppose you did not know this; and\nit is a miracle that you have escaped as you have thus far, these\nidolators being very apt to fall upon the Mussulmen that are\nstrangers, or to draw them into a snare, unless those strangers are\ninstructed how to beware of them. I bless God who has brought you\ninto a place of safety.\n\nCamaralzaman thanked the honest gardener for his advice, and the\nsecurity he offered him in his house; he would have said more, but\nthe good man interrupted him, saying, Let us leave complimenting;\nyou are weary, and must want to refresh yourself. Come in, and rest\nyourself. He conducted him into his little hut; and after the prince\nhad eaten heartily of what he set before him, with a cordiality that\ncharmed him, he requested him to relate how he came there.\n\nCamaralzaman complied with his request; and when he had ended his\nstory, without concealing any part of it, he asked him which was the\nnearest way to the king his father\u2019s territories; for it is in\nvain for me to think of finding my princess where I left her, after\nwandering eleven days from the spot by so extraordinary an\nadventure. Ah! continued he, how do I know she is alive? and saying\nthus, he burst into tears. The gardener replied, there was no\npossibility of his going thither by land, the ways were so\ndifficult, and the journey so long: besides, there was no\naccommodation for his subsistence; or, if there were, he must\nnecessarily pass through the countries of so many barbarous nations,\nthat he would never reach his father\u2019s. It was a year\u2019s journey\nfrom the city where he was to any country inhabited only by\nMussulmen; that the quickest passage for him would be to go to the\nisle of Ebene, whence he might easily transport himself to the isles\nof the children of Khaledan; that a ship sailed from the port every\nyear to Ebene, and he might take that opportunity of returning to\nthese islands. The ship departed, said he, but a few days ago; if\nyou had come a little sooner, you might have taken your passage in\nit. If you will wait the year round, when it makes the voyage again,\nand will stay with me and accept of my house, such as it is, you\nwill be as welcome to it as to your own.\n\nPrince Camaralzaman was glad he had met with such an asylum, in a\nplace where he had no acquaintance nor interest. He accepted the\noffer, and lived with the gardener till the time came that the ship\nwas to sail to the isle of Ebene. He spent his time in working all\nday in the garden, and all night in sighs, tears, and complaints,\nthinking of his dear princess Badoura. We must leave him in this\nplace, to return to the princess, whom we left asleep in her tent.\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of the Princess Badoura, after her separation from Prince\nCamaralzaman.\n\n\nThe princess slept a long time, and when she awoke, wondered that\nPrince Camaralzaman was not with her; she called her women, and\nasked them if they knew where he was. They told her they saw him\nenter the tent but did not see him go out again. While they were\ntalking to her, she took up her girdle, found the little purse open,\nand that the talisman was gone. She did not doubt but Camaralzaman\nhad taken it to see what it was, and that he would bring it back\nwith him. She waited for him impatiently till night, and could not\nimagine what made him stay away from her so long.\n\nWhen it was quite dark, and she could hear nothing of him, she fell\ninto violent grief; she cursed the talisman, and him that made it;\nand, had not she been restrained by duty, would have cursed the\nqueen her mother, who gave her such a fatal present. She was the\nmore troubled, because she could not imagine how her talisman should\nhave caused the prince\u2019s separation from her: she did not however\nlose her judgment and came to a courageous resolution, not common\nwith persons of her sex.\n\nShe only and her women knew of the prince\u2019s being gone; for his\nmen were reposing or asleep in their tents. The princess, fearing\nthey would betray her, if they had any knowledge of it, moderated\nher grief, and forbid her women to say or do any thing that might\ncreate the least suspicion. She then laid aside her habit, and put\non one of Prince Camaralzaman\u2019s, being so like him, that next day,\nwhen she came abroad, his men took her for him.\n\nShe commanded them to pack up their baggage and begin their march;\nand when all things were ready, she ordered one of her women to go\ninto her litter, she herself mounting on horseback, and riding by\nher side.\n\nThey travelled several months by land and sea; the princess\ncontinuing the journey under the name of Camaralzaman. They took the\nisland of Ebene in their way to the isles of the children of\nKhaledan. They went to the capital of the island of Ebene, where a\nking reigned whose name was Armanos. The persons who first landed,\ngiving out that the ship carried prince Camaralzaman, who was\nreturning from a long voyage, and was forced in there by a storm,\nthe news of his arrival was presently carried to court.\n\nKing Armanos, accompanied by most of his courtiers, went immediately\nto wait on the prince, and met the princess just as she was landing,\nand going to the lodging that had been taken for her. He received\nher as the son of a king, who was his friend, and with whom he\nalways kept up a good understanding: he conducted her to the palace,\nwhere an apartment was prepared for her and all her attendants,\nthough she would fain have excused herself, and have lodged in a\nprivate house. He showed her all possible honour, and entertained\nher three days together with extraordinary magnificence. At the end\nof this time, King Armanos, understanding that the princess, whom he\nstill took for Prince Camaralzaman, talked of going abroad again to\nproceed on her voyage, charmed with the air and qualities of such an\naccomplished prince as he took her to be, he took an opportunity\nwhen she was alone, and spoke to her in this manner: You see,\nprince, that I am old, and cannot hope to live long; and, to my\ngreat mortification, I have not a son to whom I may leave my crown.\nHeaven has only blest me with one daughter, whose beauty cannot be\nbetter matched than with a prince of your rank and accomplishments.\nInstead of going home, stay and take her from my hand, with my\ncrown, which I resign in your favour, and stay with us. It is time\nfor me to rest, after having so long borne it; and nothing could be\na greater pleasure to me in my retirement, than to see my people\nruled by so worthy a successor to my throne.\n\nThe king of the isle of Ebene\u2019s generous offer to bestow his only\ndaughter in marriage, and with her his kingdom, on the princess\nBadoura, who could not accept it, because she was a woman, put her\ninto unexpected perplexity. She thought it would not become a\nprincess of her rank to undeceive the king, and to own that she was\nnot prince Camaralzaman, but his wife, when she assured him she was\nhe himself, and whose part she had hitherto acted so well. She was\nalso afraid to refuse the honour he offered her, lest being so much\nbent upon the conclusion of the marriage, his kindness might turn to\naversion and hatred, and he might attempt something even against her\nlife. Besides, she was not sure whether she might not find prince\nCamaralzaman in the court of king Schahzaman his father.\n\nThese considerations, added to the prospect of obtaining a kingdom\nfor the prince her husband, in case she found him again, determined\nher to accept the proposal of king Armanos, and marry his daughter:\nso after having stood silent for some minutes, she with blushes,\nwhich the king took for a sign of modesty, answered, Sir, I am\ninfinitely obliged to your majesty for your good opinion of me, for\nthe honour you do me, and the great favour you offer me, which I\ncannot pretend to merit, and dare not refuse.\n\nBut, sir, continued she, I cannot accept this great alliance on any\nother condition, than that your majesty will assist me with your\ncounsels, and that I do nothing without having first your\napprobation.\n\nThe marriage treaty being thus concluded and agreed on, the ceremony\nwas put off till next day. In the mean time princess Badoura gave\nnotice to her officers, who still took her for prince Camaralzaman,\nwhat she was about to do, that they might not be surprised at it,\nassuring them the princess Badoura consented to it. She talked also\nto her women, and charged them to continue to keep the secret she\nhad entrusted them with.\n\nThe king of the isle of Ebene, rejoicing that he had got a\nson-in-law so much to his satisfaction, next morning summoned his\ncouncil, and acquainted them with his design of marrying his\ndaughter to prince Camaralzaman, whom he introduced to them; and\nhaving made him sit down by him, told them he resigned the crown to\nhim, and required them to acknowledge him for king, and swear fealty\nto him. Having said this, he descended from his throne, and the\nprincess Badoura, by his order, ascended it. As soon as the council\nbroke up, the new king was proclaimed through the city, rejoicings\nwere appointed for several days, and couriers despatched over all\nthe kingdom to see the same ceremonies observed with the same\ndemonstrations of joy.\n\nAt night there were extraordinary feastings at the palace, and the\nprincess Haiatalnefous [86] was led to the princess Badoura, whom\nevery body took for a man, dressed like a royal bride. The wedding\nwas solemnized with the utmost splendour; they were put to bed, and\nleft alone. In the morning, while the princess Badoura went to\nreceive the compliments of the nobility in the hall of audience,\nwhere they congratulated her on her marriage and accession to the\nthrone, king Armanos and his queen went to the apartment of the new\nqueen, their daughter, and asked her how she spent the night.\nInstead of answering them, she held down her head, and by her looks\nthey saw plainly enough she was disappointed.\n\nKing Armanos, to comfort the princess. Haiatalnefous, bid her not be\ntroubled. Prince Camaralzaman, said he, when he landed here, might\nthink only of going to his father\u2019s court. Though we have engaged\nhim to stay by arguments with which he ought to be well satisfied,\nyet it is probable he grieves at being so suddenly deprived of the\nhopes of seeing either his father or any of his family. You must\nwait till those first emotions of filial love are over; he will then\ncarry himself towards you as a good husband ought to do.\n\nThe princess Badoura, under the name and character of prince\nCamaralzaman, and the king of Ebene, spent the whole day in\nreceiving the compliments of the courtiers and the nobility of the\nkingdom who were in and about the city, and in reviewing the regular\ntroops of her household; and entered on the administration of\naffairs as king with so much dignity and judgment, as gained her the\ngeneral applause of all who were witnesses of her conduct.\n\nIt was evening before she returned to queen Haiatalnefous\u2019\napartment, and she perceived by the reception she gave her, that the\nbride was not at all pleased with the preceding night. She\nendeavoured to dissipate her grief by a long conversation, in which\nshe employed all the wit she had (and she possessed a good share of\nit) to persuade her she loved her entirely: she then gave her time\nto go to bed, and while she was undressing herself, she went to her\ndevotions: her prayers were so long that queen Haiatalnefous was\nasleep before they were ended. She then left off, and lay down\nsoftly by the new queen, without waking her, and was as much\nafflicted at her being forced to act a part which did not belong to\nher, as in the loss of her dear Camaralzaman, for whom she ceased\nnot to sigh. She rose as soon as it was day, before Haiatalnefous\nwas awake; and being dressed in her royal robes as king, went to\ncouncil.\n\nKing Armanos, as he had done the day before, came early to visit the\nqueen his daughter, whom he found in tears: he wanted no more to be\ninformed of the cause of her trouble. Provoked at the contempt, as\nhe thought, put upon his daughter, of which he could not imagine the\nreason, Daughter, said he, have patience for another night. I raised\nyour husband to the throne, and can pull him down again, and drive\nhim thence with shame, unless he gives you the satisfaction that he\nought to do. His usage of you has provoked me so much, I cannot tell\nto what my resentment may transport me; the affront is as great to\nme as to you.\n\nIt was late again before the princess Badoura came to queen\nHaiatalnefous: she talked to her as she had done the night before,\nand after the same manner went to her devotions, desiring the queen\nto go to bed. But Haiatalnefous would not be so served; she held her\nback, and obliged her to sit down again: What, said she, you think\nto deal by me this night as you have done the two last: tell me, I\nbeseech you, what can you dislike in a princess of my youth and\nbeauty, who not only loves but adores you, and thinks herself the\nhappiest of all princesses of her rank in having so amiable a prince\nfor her husband? Any body but me would be not merely offended, but\nshocked by the slight, or rather the unpardonable affront you have\nput upon me, and abandon you to your evil destiny. However, though I\ndid not love you so well as I do, yet out of pure good-nature and\nhumanity, which makes me pity the misfortunes of persons for whom I\nam less concerned, I could not forbear telling you, that the king my\nfather is enraged against you for your carriage towards me, and\nto-morrow will make you feel the marks of his just anger, if you\ncontinue to use me as you have hitherto done. Do not therefore drive\nto despair a princess, who, notwithstanding all your ill usage,\ncannot help loving you.\n\nThis discourse embarrassed the princess Badoura inexpressibly. She\ndid not doubt of the truth of what Haiatalnefous had said. King\nArmanos\u2019 coldness to her the day before had given her but too much\nreason to see he was highly dissatisfied with her. The only way to\njustify her conduct was, to communicate her sex to the princess\nHaiatalnefous. But though she had foreseen she should be under a\nnecessity of making such a declaration to her, she was afraid how\nshe would take it: but, considering that if Camaralzaman was alive,\nhe must necessarily touch at the isle of Ebene in his way to king\nSchahzaman his father\u2019s kingdom, that she ought to preserve\nherself for his sake; and that it was impossible to do this, if she\ndid not let the princess Haiatalnefous know who and what she was,\nshe resolved to venture the experiment.\n\nThe princess Badoura stood as one that was struck dumb, and\nHaiatalnefous, being impatient to hear what she could say, was about\nto speak to her again, when she stopped her by these words: Lovely\nand too charming princess! I own I have been in the wrong, and I\ncondemn myself for it; but I hope you will pardon me, and keep the\nsecret I am going to reveal to you for my justification.\n\nShe then opened her bosom, and proceeded thus: See, princess, if a\nprincess, a woman like yourself, does not deserve to be forgiven. I\nbelieve you will be so good, at least when you know my story, and\nthe afflicting disaster that forced me to act the part you see.\n\nThe princess Badoura having discovered herself entirely to the\nprincess of the isle of Ebene, she again prayed her to keep the\nsecret, and to make as if she really was a husband to her, till the\nprince Camaralzaman\u2019s arrival, which she hoped would be in a\nlittle time.\n\nPrincess, replied Haiatalnefous, your fortune is indeed strange,\nthat a marriage, so happy as yours was, should be shortened by so\nunaccountable an accident, after a passion so reciprocal and full of\nwonders. Pray Heaven you may meet with your husband again soon, and\nassure yourself I will keep religiously the secret committed to me.\nIt will be to me the greatest pleasure in the world to be the only\nperson in the great kingdom of the isle of Ebene, who knows what and\nwho you are, while you go on governing the people as happily as you\nhave begun. I only ask of you at present to be your friend. Then the\ntwo princesses tenderly embraced each other, and after a thousand\nexpressions of mutual friendship, lay down to rest.\n\nAccording to the custom of the country, the tokens of the\nconsummation of the marriage were to be produced and seen publicly.\nThe two princesses found out a way to get over that difficulty:\nQueen Haiatalnefous\u2019 women were deceived themselves next morning,\nand deceived king Armanos, his queen, and the whole court. From this\ntime princess Badoura rose in king Armanos\u2019 esteem and affection,\ngoverning the kingdom peaceably and prosperously to his and his\npeople\u2019s content.\n\nWhile things passed as already mentioned in the court of the isle of\nEbene, prince Camaralzaman staid in the city of idolaters with the\ngardener, who had offered his house for a retreat till the ship\nsailed for that island.\n\nOne morning when the prince was up early, and as he used to do, was\npreparing to work in the garden, the gardener prevented him, saying,\nThis day is a great festival among the idolaters, and because they\nabstain from all work themselves, to spend the time in their\nassemblies and public rejoicings, they will not let the Mussulmen\nwork, who to gain their favour, generally assist at their shows,\nwhich are worth seeing. You will therefore have nothing to do\nto-day; I leave you here. As the time approaches, in which the ship\nuses to sail for the isle of Ebene, I will go to see some of my\nfriends, and know when it will depart and secure you a passage in\nit. The gardener put on his best clothes, and went out.\n\nWhen prince Camaralzaman was alone, instead of going out to take\npart in the public joy of the city, the solitude he was in brought\nto his mind, with more than usual violence, the loss of his dear\nprincess. He walked up and down the garden sighing and groaning,\ntill the noise which two birds made on a neighbouring tree tempted\nhim to lift up his head, and stop to see what was the matter.\n\nCamaralzaman was surprised to behold a furious battle between these\ntwo birds, fighting one another with their beaks, and that in a very\nlittle while one of them fell down dead at the foot of a tree; the\nbird that was victorious took wing again, and flew away.\n\nIn an instant, two other large birds that had seen the fight at a\ndistance, came from the other side of the garden, and pitched on the\nground, one at the feet and the other at the head of the dead bird;\nthey looked upon it some time, shaking their heads in token of\ngrief; after which they dug a grave with their talons and buried it.\n\nWhen they had filled up the grave with the earth they had turned up\nto make it, they flew away, and returned in a few minutes, bringing\nwith them the bird that had committed the murder, the one holding\none of its wings in its beak, and the other one of its legs; the\ncriminal all the while crying out in a doleful manner, and\nstruggling to escape. They carried it to the grave of the bird which\nit had lately sacrificed to its rage, and there sacrificed it in\njust revenge for the murder it had committed. They with their beaks\nkilled the murderer. They then opened the belly, tore out the\nentrails, left the body on the spot unburied, and flew away.\n\nCamaralzaman remained in great astonishment all the time that he\nstood beholding this sight. He drew near the tree where this scene\nhad passed, and casting his eyes on the scattered entrails of the\nbird that was last killed, he spied something red hanging out of the\nstomach. He took it up, and found it was his beloved princess\nBadoura\u2019s talisman, which had cost him so much pain and sorrow,\nand so many sighs since the bird snatched it out of his hand. Ah,\ncruel, said he to himself, still looking on the bird, thou tookest\ndelight in doing mischief, so I have the less reason to complain of\nthat which thou didst to me; but the greater it was, the more do I\nwish well to those that revenged my quarrel on thee, in punishing\nthee for the murder of one of their own kind.\n\nIt is impossible to express prince Camaralzaman\u2019s joy: Dear\nprincess, continued he to himself, this happy minute, which restores\nto me a treasure so precious to thee, is without doubt a presage of\nour meeting again, and perhaps sooner than I think of. Thank Heaven,\nwho sent me this good fortune, and gives me the hope of the greatest\nfelicity that my heart can desire.\n\nSaying this, he kissed the talisman, wrapped it up in a riband, and\ntied it carefully about his arm. Till now he had been almost every\nnight a stranger to rest, his trouble always keeping him awake, but\nnext night he slept soundly; he rose somewhat later the next morning\nthan he used to do, put on his working clothes, and went to the\ngardener for orders. The good man bid him root up an old tree which\nbore no fruit.\n\nCamaralzaman took an axe, and began his work. In cutting off a\nbranch of the root, he found his axe struck against something that\nresisted the blow, and made a great noise. He removed the earth, and\ndiscovered a broad plate of brass, under which was a staircase of\nten steps. He went down, and at the bottom saw a cavity about six\nyards square, with fifty brass urns placed in order around it, each\nwith a cover over it. He opened them all, one after another, and\nthere was not one of them which was not full of gold dust. He came\nout of the cave rejoicing that he had found such a vast treasure: he\nput the brass plate on the staircase, and rooted up the tree against\nthe gardener\u2019s return.\n\nThe gardener had learned the day before that the ship which was\nbound for the isle of Ebene, would sail in a few days, but the\ncertain time was not yet fixed. His friend promised to let him know\nthe day, if he called upon him on the morrow; and while Camaralzaman\nwas rooting up the tree, he went to have his answer. He returned\nwith a joyful countenance, by which the prince guessed he brought\nhim good news. Son, said the old man, (so he always called him, on\naccount of the difference of years between him and the prince,) be\njoyful, and prepare to embark in three days; the ship will then\ncertainly set sail; I have agreed with the captain for your passage.\n\nIn my present situation, replied Camaralzaman, you could not bring\nme more agreeable news; and in return, I have also tidings that will\nbe as welcome to you; come along with me, and you shall see what\ngood fortune heaven has in store for you.\n\nThe prince led the gardener to the place where he had rooted up the\ntree, made him go down into the cave, and when he was there, showed\nhim what a treasure he had discovered, thanking Providence for\nrewarding his virtue, and the pains he had been at for so many\nyears. What do you mean? replied the gardener: do you imagine I will\ntake these riches as mine? The property of them is yours. I have no\nright to them. --For fourscore years since my father\u2019s death, I\nhave done nothing but dig in this garden, and could not discover\nthis treasure, which is a sign it was destined for you, since God\nhas permitted you to find it. It suits a prince like you rather than\nme; I have one foot in the grave, and am in no want of any thing.\nProvidence has bestowed it upon you just when you are returning to\nthat country, which will one day be your own, where you will make a\ngood use of it.\n\nPrince Camaralzaman would not be outdone in generosity by the\ngardener; they had a long dispute about it. At last, the prince\nsolemnly protested, that he would have none of it, unless the\ngardener would divide it with him, and take half. The good man, to\nplease the prince, consented; so they parted it between them, and\neach had twenty-five urns.\n\nHaving thus divided it, Son, said the gardener to the prince, it is\nnot enough that you have got this treasure: we must now contrive how\nto carry it so privately aboard a ship, that nobody may know any\nthing of the matter, otherwise you will run the risk of losing it.\nThere are no olives in the isle of Ebene; those that are exported\nhence are a good commodity there: you know I have plenty of them;\ntake what you will; fill fifty pots, half with the gold dust, and\nhalf with olives, and I will get them carried to the ship when you\nembark.\n\nCamaralzaman followed this good advice, and spent the rest of the\nday in packing up the gold and the olives in the fifty pots; [87]\nand fearing the talisman, which he wore on his arm, might be lost\nagain, he carefully put it in one of the pots, marking it with a\nparticular mark, to distinguish it from the other. When they were\nall ready to be shipped, night coming on, the prince retired with\nthe gardener, and talking together, he related to him the battle of\nthe birds, with the circumstance of that adventure, by which he had\nfound the princess Badoura\u2019s talisman again. The gardener was\nequally surprised and joyful to hear it, for his sake. Whether the\nold man was quite worn out with age, or had exhausted himself too\nmuch that day, the gardener had a very bad night. He grew worse the\nnext day; and on the third day, when the prince was to embark, was\nso ill, that it wan plain he was nigh his end. As soon as day broke,\nthe captain of the ship came in person, with several seamen, to the\ngardener\u2019s; they knocked at the garden-door, and Camaralzaman\nopened it to them. They asked him where the passenger was that was\nto go with him. --The prince answered, I am he; the gardener, who\nagreed with you for my passage is sick, and cannot be spoken with.\nCome in, and let your men carry those pots of olives and my baggage\naboard for me; I will only take leave of the gardener, and follow\nyou.\n\nThe seamen took up the pots and the baggage, and the captain bid the\nprince make haste, the wind being fair, and they staid for nothing\nbut him.\n\nWhen the captain and his men were gone, Camaralzaman went to the\ngardener to take his leave of him, and thank him for all his good\noffices; but he found him in the agonies of death, and had scarce\ntime to bid him rehearse the articles of his faith, which all good\nMussulmen do before they die. --The gardener did this, and expired\nin his presence.\n\nThe prince being under the necessity of embarking immediately,\nhastened to pay the last duty to the deceased. He washed his body,\nburied him in his own garden, (for the Mahometans had no cemetry in\nthe city of the idolaters, where they were only tolerated), and,\nhaving nobody to assist him, it was almost evening before he had put\nhim in the ground. As soon as he had done it, he ran to the\nwater-side, carrying with him the key of the garden, designing, if\nhe had time, to give it to the landlord; otherwise to deposit it in\nsome trusty person\u2019s hand before witnesses, that he might have it\nafter he was gone. When he came to the port, he was told the ship\nsailed several hours before he came, and was already out of sight.\nIt staid three hours for him, and the wind standing fair, the\ncaptain durst not stay longer.\n\nIt is easy to imagine that prince Camaralzaman was exceedingly\ngrieved to be forced to stay longer in a country where he neither\nhad nor wished to have any acquaintance; and to think that he must\nwait another twelvemonth for the opportunity he had lost. But the\ngreatest affliction of all was, his having let go the princess\nBadoura\u2019s talisman, which he now gave over for lost. The only\ncourse that was left for him to take was, to return to the garden\nfrom whence he came, to rent it of the landlord, and to continue to\ncultivate it by himself, deploring his misery and misfortunes. He\nhired a boy to help him to do some part of the drudgery, that he\nmight not lose the other half of the treasure, which came to him by\nthe death of the gardener, who died without heirs: he put the\ngold-dust in fifty other pots, which he filled up with olives, to be\nready against the time of the ship\u2019s return.\n\nWhile prince Camaralzaman began another year of labour, sorrow, and\nimpatience, the ship, having a fair wind, continued her voyage to\nthe isle of Ebene, and happily arrived at the capital city.\n\nThe palace being by the sea-side, the new king, or rather the\nprincess Badoura, espying the ship as she was entering into the\nport, with all her flags, asked what vessel it was; she was\nanswered, that it came annually from the city of the idolaters, and\ngenerally was richly laden.\n\nThe princess, who always had prince Camaralzaman in her mind amidst\nthe glories which surrounded her, imagined that the prince might be\naboard, and resolved to go aboard the ship and meet him, without\ndiscovering herself to him, (for she doubted whether he would know\nher again), but to observe him, and take proper measures for their\nmaking themselves mutually known. Under pretence of inquiring what\nmerchandize was aboard, and having the first sight of the goods, and\nchoosing the most valuable for herself, she commanded a horse to be\nbrought, which she mounted, and rode to the port, accompanied by\nseveral officers in waiting at that time, and arrived at the port\njust as the captain came ashore. She ordered him to be brought\nbefore her, and asked whence he came, how long he had been on his\nvoyage, and what good or bad fortune he had met with in it; if he\nhad no stranger of quality aboard, and particularly with what his\nship was laden.\n\nThe captain gave a satisfactory answer to all her demands; and as to\npassengers, assured her there were none but merchants in his ship,\nwho used to come every year, and bring rich stuffs from several\nparts of the world to trade with, the finest linens, painted and\nplain, diamonds, musk, ambergris, camphire, civet, spices, drugs,\nolives, and many other articles.\n\nThe princess Badoura loved olives extremely. When she heard the\ncaptain speak of them, Land them, said she; I will take them off\nyour hands. As to the other goods, tell the merchants to bring them\nto me, and let me see them before they dispose of them, or show them\nto any one.\n\nThe captain, taking her for the king of the isle of Ebene, replied,\nSire, there are fifty great pots of olives, but they belong to a\nmerchant whom I was forced to leave behind. I gave him notice myself\nthat I staid for him, and waited a long time, but he not coming, and\nthe wind offering, I was afraid of losing it, and so set sail. The\nprincess answered, No matter; bring them ashore; we will make a\nbargain for them however.\n\nThe captain sent his boat aboard, and in a little time it returned\nwith the pots of olives. The princess demanded how much the fifty\npots might be worth in the isle of Ebene. Sir, said the captain, the\nmerchant is very poor, and your majesty will do him a singular\nfavour if you give him a thousand pieces of silver.\n\nTo satisfy him, replied the princess, and because you tell me he is\npoor, I will order you a thousand pieces of gold for him, which do\nyou take care to give him. The money was accordingly paid, and the\npots carried to the palace in her presence.\n\nNight drawing on, the princess withdrew into the inner palace, and\nwent to the princess Haiatalnefous\u2019 apartment, ordering the fifty\npots of olives to be brought thither. --She opened one to let the\nprincess Haiatalnefous taste them, and to taste them herself, and\npoured them into a dish. Great was her astonishment when she found\nthe olives were mingled with gold-dust. What can this mean? said\nshe; it is wonderful beyond comprehension. Her curiosity increasing\nby so extraordinary an adventure, she ordered Haiatalnefous\u2019 women\nto open and empty all the pots in her presence; and her wonder was\nstill greater, when she saw that the olives in all of them were\nmixed with gold-dust; but when she saw her talisman drop out of that\nin which the prince had put it, she was so surprised, that she\nfainted away. The princess Haiatalnefous and her women recovered the\nprincess Badoura, by throwing cold water in her face. When she\nrecovered her senses, she took the talisman, and kissed it again and\nagain; but not being willing that the princess Haiatalnefous\u2019\nwomen, who were ignorant of her disguise, should hear what she said,\nand it growing late, she dismissed them. Princess, said she to\nHaiatalnefous, as soon as they were gone, you, who have heard my\nstory, to be sure guessed it was at the sight of the talisman that I\nfainted. This is that talisman, and the fatal cause of my losing my\ndear husband, prince Camaralzaman; but as it was that which caused\nour separation, so I foresee it will be the means of our approaching\nmeeting.\n\nThe next day, as soon as it was light, she sent for the captain of\nthe ship; and when he came, spoke to him thus: I want to know\nsomething more of the merchant to whom the olives belong, that I\nbought of you yesterday. I think you told me you left him behind you\nin the city of idolaters: can you tell me what he does there.\n\nYes, sire, replied the captain, I can speak on my own knowledge. I\nagreed for his passage with a very old gardener, who told me I\nshould find him in his garden, where he worked under him. He showed\nme the place, and for that reason I told your majesty he was poor. I\nwent thither to call him. I told him what haste I was in, spoke to\nhim myself in the garden, and cannot be mistaken in the man.\n\nIf what you say is true, replied the princess Badoura, you must set\nsail this very day for the city of idolaters, and fetch me that\ngardener\u2019s man, who is my debtor; else I will not only confiscate\nall your goods and those of your merchants, but your and their lives\nshall answer for his. I have ordered my seal to be put on the\nwarehouses where they are, which shall not be taken off till you\nbring me that man: this is all I have to say to you; go, and do as I\ncommand you.\n\nThe captain could make no reply to this order, the disobeying of\nwhich would be a very great loss to him and his merchants. He\nacquainted them with it; and they hastened him away as fast as they\ncould, after he had laid in a stock of provisions and fresh water\nfor his voyage. They were so diligent, that he set sail the same\nday. He had a prosperous voyage to the city of the idolaters, where\nhe arrived in the night. When he was got as near the city as he\nthought convenient, he would not cast anchor, but let the ship ride\noff shore; and going into his boat, with six of his stoutest seamen,\nhe landed a little way off the port, whence he went directly to\nCamaralzaman\u2019s garden.\n\nThough it was about midnight when he came there, the prince was not\nasleep. His separation from the fair princess of China, his wife,\nafflicted him as usual. He cursed the minute in which his curiosity\ntempted him to touch the fatal girdle.\n\nThus did he pass those hours which are devoted to rest, when he\nheard somebody knock at the garden-door; he ran hastily to it, half\ndressed as he was; but he had no sooner opened it, than the captain\nand the seamen took hold of him, and carried him by force on board\nthe boat, and so on ship-board, where as soon as he was safely\nlodged, they set sail immediately, and made the best of their way to\nthe isle of Ebene.\n\nHitherto Camaralzaman, the captain, and his men, had not said a word\nto one another; at last the prince broke silence, and asked the\ncaptain, whom he knew again, why they had taken him away by force?\nThe captain, in his turn, demanded of the prince, whether he was not\na debtor of the king of Ebene? I the king of Ebene\u2019s debtor!\nreplied Camaralzaman in amazement; I do not know him; I had never\nany thing to do with him in my life, and never set foot in his\nkingdom. The captain answered, You should know that better than I:\nyou will talk to him yourself in a little while; till then, stay\nhere, and have patience.\n\nThe captain was not long on his voyage back to the isle of Ebene.\nThough it was night when he cast anchor in the port, he landed\nimmediately, and taking prince Camaralzaman with him, hastened to\nthe palace, where he demanded to be introduced to the king.\n\nThe princess Badoura was withdrawn into the inner palace: however,\nas soon as she had heard of the captain\u2019s return, and\nCamaralzaman\u2019s arrival, she came out to speak to him. As soon as\nshe cast her eyes on the prince, for whom she had shed so many\ntears, she knew him in his gardener\u2019s habit. As for the prince,\nwho trembled in the presence of a king, as he thought her, to whom\nhe was to answer for an imaginary debt, it could not enter into his\nthoughts, that the person whom he so earnestly desired to see, stood\nbefore him. If the princess had followed the dictates of her\ninclination, she would have run to him, and by embracing, discovered\nherself to him: but she put a constraint on herself, believing that\nit was for the interest of both that she should act the part of a\nking a little longer before she made herself known. She contented\nherself for the present to put him into the hands of an officer, who\nwas then in waiting, charging him to take care of him, and use him\nwell till next day.\n\nWhen the princess Badoura had provided for prince Camaralzaman, she\nturned about to the captain, whom she was now to reward for the\nimportant service he had done her. She commanded another officer to\ngo immediately, and take the seal off the warehouse, where his and\nhis merchants\u2019 goods were, and gave him a rich diamond, worth much\nmore than the expense he had been at in both his voyages. She\nbesides bid him keep the thousand pieces of gold she had given him\nfor the pots of olives, telling him she would make up the account\nwith the merchant whom he had brought with him. This done, she\nretired to the princess of the isle of Ebene\u2019s apartment, to whom\nshe communicated her joy, praying her to keep the secret still. She\ntold her how she intended to manage the discovering of herself to\nprince Camaralzaman, and giving the kingdom to him; adding, there\nwas so vast a difference between a gardener and a great prince, as\nhe is, that it maybe dangerous to raise him at once from the lowest\ncondition of the people to the highest degree, however justice\nrequired it should be done. The princess of the isle of Ebene was so\nfar from betraying her, that she rejoiced with her, and entered into\nthe design, assuring her, she would with the greatest pleasure\ncontribute to it all that lay in her power, and that she had only to\nsay what she would desire of her.\n\nThe next morning, the princess of China ordered prince Camaralzaman\nto be conducted early to the bath, and then apparelled in the robes\nof an emir or governor of a province. She commanded him to be\nintroduced into the council, where his fine person and majestic air\ndrew all the eyes of the lords there present upon him.\n\nThe princess Badoura herself was charmed to see him again, as lovely\nas she had often seen him, and that pleasure inspired her to speak\nthe more warmly in his praise. --When she addressed herself to the\ncouncil, having ordered the prince to take his seat among the emirs,\nshe spoke to them thus: My lords, Camaralzaman, whom I have advanced\nto the same dignity with you, is not unworthy the place assigned\nhim. I have known enough of him in my travels to answer for him, and\nI can assure you he will make his merit known to all of you, as well\nby his valour, as by a thousand other brilliant qualities, and the\nextent of his genius.\n\nCamaralzaman was extremely amazed to hear the king of the isle of\nEbene, whom he was far from taking for a woman, much less for his\ndear princess, name him, and declare that he knew him, while he\nthought himself certain he had never seen him before in his life. He\nwas much more surprised when he heard him praise him so excessively.\nThose praises, however, from the mouth of majesty, did not\ndisconcert him, though he received them with such modesty as showed\nthat he deserved them, and did not grow vain upon it. He prostrated\nhimself before the throne of the king, and rising again, Sire, said\nhe, I want words to express my gratitude to your majesty for the\nhonour you have done me: I shall do all in my power to render myself\nworthy of your royal favour.\n\nFrom the council board, the prince was conducted to a palace, which\nthe princess Badoura had ordered to be fitted up for him; where he\nfound officers and domestics ready to obey his commands, a stable\nfull of fine horses, and every thing suitable to the quality of an\nemir. When he was in his closet, the steward of his household\nbrought him a strong box full of gold for his expenses.\n\nThe less he conceived whence came his great good fortune, the more\nhe admired it, but never once imagined that he owed it to the\nprincess of China.\n\nTwo or three days after, the princess Badoura, that he might be\nnearer her person, and in a more distinguished post, made him high\ntreasurer, which office became lately vacant. He behaved himself in\nhis new charge with so much integrity, yet obliging every body, that\nhe not only gained the friendship of the great, but also the\naffections of the people, by his uprightness and bounty.\n\nCamaralzaman had been the happiest man in the world, to see himself\nin so high favour with a foreign king as he conceived, and\nincreasing in the esteem of all his subjects, if he had had his\nprincess with him. --In the midst of this good fortune he never\nceased lamenting her, and grieved that he could hear no tidings of\nher, especially in a country where she must necessarily have come in\nher way to his father\u2019s court, after their separation, so\nafflicting to both. He had mistrusted something, had the princess\nBadoura still gone by the name of Camaralzaman, which she took with\nhis habit; but on her accession to the throne, she changed it, and\ntook that of Armanos, in honour of the old king, her father-in-law.\nShe was known now only by the name of the young king Armanos. There\nwere very few courtiers who knew that she had ever been called\nCamaralzaman, which name she assumed when she arrived at the court\nof the isle of Ebene: nor had Camaralzaman so much acquaintance with\nany of them yet, to inform himself farther of her history.\n\nThe princess, fearing he might do it in time, and desiring that he\nshould owe the discovery of herself to herself only, resolved to put\nan end to her own torments and his; for she had observed, that as\noften as she discoursed with him about the affairs of his office, he\nfetched such deep sighs as could be addressed to nobody but her. She\nherself lived in such a constraint that she could endure it no\nlonger. Add to this, the friendship of the emirs and courtiers, the\nzeal and affection of the people; in a word, every thing contributed\nto her putting the crown of the isle of Ebene on his head, without\nany obstacle.\n\nThe princess Badoura had no sooner taken this resolution with the\nprincess Haiatalnefous, than she the same day took prince\nCamaralzaman aside, saying, I must talk with you about an affair,\nCamaralzaman, which requires much consideration, and on which I want\nyour advice. As I do not see how it can be done so conveniently as\nin the night, come hither in the evening, and leave word at home not\nto be waited for; I will take care to provide you a bed.\n\nCamaralzaman came punctually to the palace at the hour appointed by\nthe princess; she took him with her into the inner apartment, and\nhaving told the chief eunuch, who prepared to follow her, she had no\noccasion for his service, and that he should only keep the door\nshut, she carried him into a different apartment from that of the\nprincess Haiatalnefous, where she used to sleep.\n\nWhen the prince and princess entered the chamber, where there was a\nbed, she shut the door, and taking the talisman out of a little box,\ngave it to Camaralzaman, saying, It is not long since an astrologer\npresented me with this talisman; you being skilful in all things,\nmay perhaps tell me its use.\n\nCamaralzaman took the talisman, and drew near a lamp to view it. As\nsoon as he recollected it, with an astonishment which gave the\nprincess great pleasure, Sire, said he to the prince, your majesty\nasked me what this talisman is good for. Alas! it is only good to\nkill me with grief and despair, if I do not quickly find the most\ncharming and lovely princess in the world, to whom it belonged; the\nloss of it was the occasion to me of a strange adventure, the very\nrecital of which will move your majesty to pity such an unfortunate\nhusband and lover, if you will have patience to hear it.\n\nYou shall tell me that another time, replied the princess; I am very\nglad to tell you I know something of it already; stay here a little,\nand I will return to you in a moment.\n\nAt these words, she went into her closet, put off her royal turban,\nand in a few minutes dressed herself like a woman: and having the\ngirdle round her which she had on the day of their separation, she\nentered the chamber.\n\nPrince Camaralzaman immediately knew his dear princess, ran to her,\nand tenderly embraced her, crying out, How much I am obliged to the\nking who has so agreeably surprised me! Do not expect to see the\nking any more, replied the princess, embracing him in her turn, with\ntears in her eyes; you see him in me; sit down, and I will explain\nthis enigma to you.\n\nThey sat down, and the princess told the prince the resolution she\ncame to, in the field where they encamped the last time they were\ntogether, as soon as she perceived she waited for him to no purpose;\nhow she went through with it, till she arrived at the isle of Ebene,\nwhere she had been obliged to marry the princess Haiatalnefous, and\naccept of the crown which king Armanos offered her as a condition of\nthe marriage: how the princess, whose merit she highly extolled,\ntook her declaration of her sex; and how she found the talisman in\nthe pots of olives mingled with the gold-dust, which she bought, and\nhow the finding it was the cause of her sending for him from the\ncity of the idolaters.\n\nWhen she had done telling her adventure, she obliged the prince to\ntell her by what accident the talisman occasioned their separation.\nHe satisfied her inquiries; and when he had done, he upbraided her\nin the kindest expressions for her cruelty in making him languish so\nlong without her; she excused herself with the reasons already\nrelated, after which, it growing late, they went to bed.\n\nThe princess Badoura and prince Camaralzaman rose next morning as\nsoon as it was light, but the princess would no more put on her\nroyal robes as king; she dressed herself in the dress of a woman,\nand then sent the chief eunuch to king Armanos, her father-in-law,\nto desire he would give himself the trouble to come to her apartment.\n\nWhen the king entered the chamber, he was amazed to see there a lady\nthat was unknown to him, and the high treasurer with her, who was\nnot permitted to come within the inner palace, nor any of the lords\nof the court. He sat down, and asked where the king was.\n\nThe princess answered, Yesterday I was king, sir, and to-day I am\nonly princess of China, wife to the true prince Camaralzaman, the\ntrue son of king Schahzaman. If your majesty will have patience to\nhear both our stories, I hope you will not condemn me for putting an\ninnocent deceit upon you. The king bid her go on, and heard her\ndiscourse from the beginning to the end with astonishment. The\nprincess finishing it, said to him, Sir, though in our religion\nwomen do not easily comply with the liberty assumed by men to have\nseveral wives; yet if your majesty will consent to give your\ndaughter the princess Haiatalnefous in marriage to prince\nCamaralzaman, I will with all my heart yield up to her the rank and\nquality of queen, which of right belongs to her, and content myself\nwith the second place. If this precedence was not her due, I would,\nhowever, give it her, after the obligation I have to her for keeping\nmy secret so generously. If your majesty refers it to her consent, I\nam sure of that, having already consulted her; and I will pass my\nword that she will be very well satisfied.\n\nKing Armanos listened to the princess with astonishment, and when\nshe had done, turned about to prince Camaralzaman, saying, Since the\nprincess Badoura, your wife, whom I have all along thought to be my\nson-in-law, through a deceit of which I cannot complain, assures me,\nthat she will divide your bed with my daughter, I have nothing more\nto do, but to know of you if you are willing to marry her, and\naccept of the crown, which the princess Badoura would deservedly\nwear as long as she lived, if she did not quit it out of love to\nyou. Sir, replied prince Camaralzaman, though I desire nothing so\nearnestly as to see the king my father, yet the obligations I have\nto your majesty and the princess Haiatalnefous are so weighty, I can\nrefuse her nothing. Camaralzaman was proclaimed king, and married\nthe same day with all possible demonstrations of joy; and had every\nreason to be well pleased with the princess Haiatalnefous\u2019 beauty,\nwit, and love for him.\n\nThe two queens lived together afterwards on the same friendly terms,\nand in the same cordiality, as they had done before, both being\ncontented with king Camaralzaman\u2019s equal carriage towards them,\nand they alternately were taken to his bed.\n\nThe next year each brought him a son at the same time, and the\nbirths of the two princes were celebrated with extraordinary\nrejoicings: the first, which the princess Badoura was delivered of,\nking Camaralzaman called Amgiad (most glorious); and the other,\nwhich was born of queen Haiatalnefous, Assad (most happy).\n\nThe Story of the Princes Amgiad and Assad.\n\nThe two princes were brought up with great care; and, when they were\nold enough, had the same governor and the same instructors in the\narts and sciences which king Camaralzaman would have them learn, and\nthe same master for each exercise. The friendship which from their\ninfancy they conceived for each other, occasioned an uniformity of\nmanners and inclinations, which increased it. When they were of an\nage to have separate households, they loved one another so tenderly,\nthat they begged king Camaralzaman to let them live together. He\nconsented to it. So they had the same domestics, the same equipages,\nthe same apartment, and the same table. Camaralzaman had formed so\ngood an opinion of their capacity and integrity, that he made no\nscruple of admitting them into his council at eighteen years old,\nand letting them, by turns, preside there, while he himself took the\ndiversion of hunting, or amused himself with his queens at his\nhouses of pleasure.\n\nThe two princes being equally handsome and well made from their\ninfancy, the two queens loved them with incredible tenderness, yet\nso that the princess Badoura had a greater kindness for prince\nAssad, queen Haiatalnefous\u2019 son, than for her own; and queen\nHaiatalnefous loved Amgiad, the princess Badoura\u2019s son, better\nthan her own son Assad.\n\nThe two queens thought at first this inclination was nothing but a\nfriendship which proceeded from an excess of their own friendship\nfor each other, which they still preserved: but as the two princes\nadvanced in years, that friendship turned to a violent love, when\nthey appeared in their eyes to possess graces that blinded their\nreason. They knew how criminal their passion was, and did all they\ncould to resist it; but the familiar intercourse with them, and the\nhabit of admiring, praising and caressing them from their infancy,\nwhich they could not leave off when they grew up, inflamed their\ndesires to such a height, that they could neither eat, drink, or\nsleep. It was their and the princes\u2019 ill fortune, that the latter,\nbeing used to be so treated by them, had not the least suspicion of\ntheir infamous passion.\n\nThe two queens had not concealed from each other this passion, but\nhad not the boldness to declare it verbally to each of the princes\nshe loved: they at last resolved to do it by a billet, and availed\nthemselves of king Camaralzaman\u2019s absence to execute their wicked\ndesign, when he was gone on a hunting party for three or four days.\n\nPrince Amgiad presided at the council on the day of king\nCamaralzaman\u2019s departure, and administered justice till two or\nthree o\u2019clock in the afternoon; when he returned to the palace\nfrom the council chamber, an eunuch took him aside, and gave him a\nbillet from queen Haiatalnefous: Amgiad took it, and read it with\nhorror. Traitor, said he to the eunuch, as soon as he had read it\nthrough, is this the fidelity thou owest thy master and thy king? At\nthese words he drew his sabre, and cut off his head.\n\nHaving done this in a transport of anger, he ran to the princess\nBadoura his mother, showed her the billet, told her the contents of\nit, and from whom it came. Instead of hearkening to him, she fell\ninto a passion herself, and said, Son, it is all a calumny and\nimposture; queen Haiatalnefous is a very discreet princess, and you\nare very bold to talk to me against her after this rate. The prince,\nenraged at his mother, cried, You are both equally wicked, and were\nit not for the respect I owe my father, this day should have been\nthe last of Haiatalnefous\u2019 life.\n\nQueen Badoura might have imagined by the example of her son Amgiad,\nthat prince Assad, who was not less virtuous, would not receive more\nfavourably a declaration of love like that which had been made to\nhis brother. Yet that did not hinder her persisting in so abominable\na design; she the next day wrote him a billet, which she trusted to\nan old woman who had access to the palace, to convey to him.\n\nThe old woman watched her opportunity to give it him as he was\ncoming from the council-chamber, where he presided that day in his\nturn; the prince took it, and reading it, fell into such a rage,\nthat, without giving himself time to finish it, he drew his sabre,\nand punished the old woman as she deserved. He ran presently to his\nmother queen Haiatalnefous\u2019 apartment with the billet in his hand;\nhe would have shown it to her, but she did not give him time, crying\nout, I know what you mean; you are as impertinent as your brother\nAmgiad; begone! and never come into my presence again.\n\nAssad stood as one thunderstruck at these words, which he never\nexpected. He was so transported with rage, that he had like to have\ngiven very fatal demonstrations of his anger; but he contained\nhimself, and withdrew without making any reply, fearing, if he\nstaid, he might say something unworthy the greatness of his soul.\nAmgiad had not mentioned to him the billet which he received the\npreceding day, and finding by what his mother had said to him that\nshe was altogether as criminal as queen Haiatalnefous, he went to\nhis brother, to chide him for not communicating the hated secret to\nhim, and to mingle his sorrow with his.\n\nThe two queens, rendered desperate by finding in the two princes so\nmuch virtue, which should have had an influence on them, renounced\nall sentiments of nature and mothers, and conspired together to\ndestroy them: they made their women believe the two princes had\nattempted their virtue: they counterfeited the matter to the life by\ntheir tears, cries, and curses; and lay in the same bed, as if the\nresistance they pretended to have made had reduced them almost to\ndeath\u2019s door.\n\nWhen Camaralzaman returned to the palace from hunting, he was very\nmuch surprised to find them in bed together, all in tears, acting\ndespondency so well, that he was touched with compassion. He asked\nthem with earnestness what had happened to them.\n\nAt this question the dissembling queens wept and gobbed more\nbitterly than before; and after he had pressed them again and again\nto tell him, queen Badoura, at last answered him: Sir, our grief is\nso well founded, that we ought not to see the light of the sun, nor\nlive a day, after the violence that has been offered us by the\nunparalleled brutality of the princes your sons. They formed a\nhorrid design, encouraged by your absence, and had the boldness and\ninsolence to attempt our honour. Your majesty will excuse us from\nsaying any more; you may guess the rest by our affliction.\n\n[Illustration: PRINCE AMGIAD AND PRINCE ASSAD.]\n\nThe king sent for the two princes, and had killed them both with his\nown hand, if old king Armanos, his father-in-law, who was by, had\nnot held his hand. Son, said he, what are you going to do? Will you\nstain your hands and your palace with your own blood? There are\nother ways of punishing them, if they are really guilty.\n\nHe endeavoured thus to appease him, and desired him to examine\nwhether they did indeed commit the crime of which they were accused.\n\nIt was no hard thing for Camaralzaman to be so much master of\nhimself as not to butcher his own children: he ordered them to be\nput under arrest, and sent for an emir called Giondar, whom he\ncommanded to carry them out of the city, and put them to death, at a\ngreat distance, and in what place he pleased, but not to see him\nagain, unless he brought their clothes with him, as a token of his\nhaving executed his orders.\n\nGiondar travelled with them all night, and early next morning made\nthem alight, telling them, with tears in his eyes, the commands he\nhad received. Believe me, princes, said he, it is a trying duty\nimposed on me by your father, to execute this cruel order: would to\nHeaven I could avoid it! The princes replied, Do your duty; we know\nwell you are not the cause of our deaths, and forgive you with all\nour hearts.\n\nThen they embraced, and bade each other the last adieu with so much\ntenderness, that it was a long time before they could leave one\nanother\u2019s arms. Prince Assad was the first who prepared himself\nfor the fatal stroke. Begin with me, Giondar, said he, that I may\nnot have the trouble to see my dear brother Amgiad die. Amgiad\nopposed it; and Giondar could not, without weeping more than before,\nbe witness of this dispute between them; which showed how perfect\nand sincere their friendship was.\n\nAt last they thus determined the contest, desiring Giondar to tie\nthem together, and put them in the most convenient posture for him\nto give them the fatal stroke at one blow. Do not refuse the comfort\nof dying together to two unfortunate brothers, who from their birth\nhave shared every thing, even their innocence, said the generous\nprinces.\n\nGiondar granted their request; he tied them to each other, breast to\nbreast; and when he had placed them so as he thought he might strike\nthe blow with more surety, and cut off their heads at once, he asked\nthem if they had any thing to command him before they died.\n\nWe have only one thing to desire of you, replied the princes; which\nis, to assure the king our father, at your return, that we are\ninnocent; but that we do not charge him with our deaths, knowing he\nis not well informed of the truth of the crime with which we are\naccused.\n\nGiondar promised to do what they would have him, and drew his sabre:\nhis horse being tied to a tree just by, started at the sight of the\nsabre, which glittered against the sun, broke his bridle, and ran\naway with all speed into the country.\n\nHe was a very valuable good horse, and so richly harnessed, that the\nemir could not bear the loss of him. This accident so troubled him,\nthat instead of beheading the two princes, he threw away his sabre,\nand ran after his horse to catch him again.\n\nThe horse gallopped on before him, and led him several miles out of\nhis way into a wood. Giondar followed him, and the horse\u2019s\nneighing roused a lion that was asleep. The lion started up, and\ninstead of running after the horse, made directly towards Giondar,\nwho thought no more of his horse, but how to save his life and avoid\nthe lion. He ran into the thickest of the wood, the lion keeping him\nin view, pursuing him among the trees. In this extremity he said to\nhimself, Heaven had not punished me in this manner, but to show the\ninnocence of the princes whom I was commanded to put to death; and\nnow, to my misfortune, I have not my sabre to defend myself.\n\nWhile Giondar was gone, the two princes were seized with a violent\nthirst, occasioned by the fear of death, notwithstanding their noble\nresolution to submit to the king their father\u2019s cruel order.\n\nPrince Amgiad told the prince his brother there was a spring not far\noff. Ah! brother, said Assad, we have so little time to live, what\nneed have we to quench our thirst? We can bear it a few minutes\nlonger.\n\nAmgiad, taking no notice of his brother\u2019s remonstrance, unbound\nhimself, and unbound the prince his brother whether he would or no.\nThey went to the spring, and having refreshed themselves, heard the\nroaring of the lion. They also heard Giondar\u2019s dreadful cries in\nthe wood, where he and the horse were. Amgiad took up Giondar\u2019s\nsabre which lay on the ground, saying to Assad, Come, brother, let\nus go and help poor Giondar; perhaps we may arrive soon enough to\ndeliver him from the danger in which he now is.\n\nThe two princes ran to the wood, and entered it just as the lion was\ngoing to fall on Giondar. The beast, seeing prince Amgiad, advancing\ntowards him with a sabre in his hand, left his prey, and came\nagainst him with fury. The prince met him intrepidly, and gave him a\nblow so forcibly and dexterously, that it felled him to the ground.\n\nWhen Giondar saw that he owed his life to the two princes, he threw\nhimself at their feet, and thanked them, for the great obligation he\nhad to them, in words which sufficiently showed his gratitude.\nPrinces, said he, rising up and kissing their hands, with tears in\nhis eyes, God forbid that ever I should attempt any thing against\nyour lives, after you have so kindly and bravely saved mine. It\nshall never be said, that the emir Giondar was guilty of such\ningratitude.\n\nThe service we have done you, answered the princes, ought not to\nhinder you from executing the orders you have received; let us first\ncatch your horse again, and then return to the place where you left\nus. They were at no great trouble to take the horse, whose mettle\nwas abated with running. When they had restored him to Giondar, and\nwere near the fountain, they begged of him, and argued with him to\ndo as their father had commanded him; but all to no purpose. I only\ntake liberty to desire you, said Giondar, and I pray you not to deny\nme, that you will divide my clothes between you, and give me yours,\nand go to such a distance, that the king your father may never hear\nof you more.\n\nThe princes were forced to comply with his request. Each of them\ngave him his clothes, and covered themselves with what he could\nspare them of his. He also gave them all the money he had about him,\nand took leave of them.\n\nWhen the emir Giondar parted from the princes, he passed through the\nwood, where Amgiad had killed the lion, in whose blood he dipped\ntheir clothes; which having done, he proceeded on his way to the\ncapital city of the isle of Ebene.\n\nAt his arrival there, king Camaralzaman asked if he had done what he\nordered him. Giondar replied, See, sir, the proofs of my obedience;\ngiving him, at the same time, the princes\u2019 clothes.\n\nHow did they take the punishment I commanded to be executed on them?\nGiondar answered, With wonderful constancy, sir, and resignation to\nthe decrees of Heaven; which showed how sincerely they made\nprofession of their religion: but particularly with great respect\ntowards your majesty, and an inconceivable submission to the\nsentence of death. We die innocent, said they; but we do not murmur;\nwe take our death from the hand of Heaven, and forgive our father;\nfor we know very well he has not been rightly informed of the truth.\n\nCamaralzaman, sensibly touched at emir Giondar\u2019s relation,\nbethought himself of putting his hand in their pockets: he began\nwith prince Amgiad\u2019s, where he found a billet open, which he read.\nHe no sooner knew that queen Haiatalnefous writ it, as well by a\nlock of her hair which was in it, and by the hand-writing, but he\nwas chilled with horror. He then trembling put his hand into that of\nAssad; and finding there queen Badoura\u2019s billet, his surprise was\nso great and sudden, that he fainted.\n\nNever was grief equal to Camaralzaman\u2019s, when he was recovered\nfrom his fit. Barbarous father, cried he, what hast thou done? Thou\nhast murdered thy own children, thy innocent children! Did not their\nwisdom, their modesty, their obedience, their submission to thy will\nin all things, their virtue, all plead in their behalf? Blind and\ninsensible father! dost thou deserve to live after the execrable\ncrime thou hast committed? I have brought this abomination on my own\nhead; and Heaven chastises me for not persevering in that aversion\nto women in which I was born. And oh, ye detestable wives! I will\nnot, no I will not, as ye deserve, wash off the guilt of your sins\nwith your blood; ye are unworthy of my rage; but perdition seize me\nif ever I see you more!\n\nKing Camaralzaman was a man of too much religion to break his vow:\nhe commanded the two queens to be lodged in separate apartments that\nvery day, where they were kept under strong guards, and he never saw\nthem again as long as he lived.\n\nWhile the king of the isle of Ebene afflicted himself for the loss\nof the princes his sons, whose death he thought he had been the\nauthor of, by his too rashly condemning them, the royal youths\nwandered through deserts, endeavouring to avoid all places that were\ninhabited, and to meet any human creature. They lived on herbs and\nwild fruits and drank only foul rain-water, which they found in the\ncrevices of the rocks. They slept, and watched by turns at night,\nfor fear of wild beasts.\n\nWhen they had travelled about a month, they came to the foot of a\nfrightful mountain, of black stones, and to all appearance\ninaccessible. They at last espied a sort of path, but so narrow and\ndifficult, that they durst not venture up it. This obliged them to\ngo along by the foot of the mountain, in hopes to find a more easy\nway to reach the top of it. They went about it five days, but could\nsee nothing like a path, so they were forced to return to that which\nthey had neglected. They still thought it would be in vain for them\nto attempt going up by it; they deliberated what they should do, a\nlong time; and at last, encouraging one another, resolved to ascend\nthe hill.\n\nThe more they advanced, they thought it was the higher and the more\nsteep, which made them think several times of giving over their\nenterprise. When the one was weary, the other stopt, and they took\nbreath together; sometimes they were both so tired, that they wanted\nstrength to go farther: then, despairing of being able to reach the\ntop, they thought they must lie down and die of fatigue and\nweariness. A few minutes after, when they found they recovered\nstrength, they animated each other, and went on.\n\nNotwithstanding all their endeavours, and their courage and\nperseverance, they could not get to the top that day: night came on,\nand prince Assad was so tired and spent, that he stopt, and said to\nprince Amgiad, Brother, I can go no farther: I am just dying. --Let\nus rest ourselves, replied prince Amgiad, as long as you will, and\nhave a good heart; it is but a little way to the top, and the moon\nbefriends us.\n\nThey rested themselves about half an hour, and then Assad made a new\neffort, and once more ascended what remained of the way to the\nmountain\u2019s summit, where they both at last arrived, and lay down.\nAmgiad rose first, and advancing, saw a tree at a little distance:\nhe went to it, and found it was a pomegranate tree with large fruit\nupon it, and a spring at the foot of it: he ran to his brother Assad\nto tell him the good news, and conduct him to the tree by the\nfountain side. They refreshed themselves there by eating each a\npomegranate, after which they fell asleep.\n\nWhen they awoke next morning, Come, brother, said Amgiad to Assad,\nlet us go on: I see the mountain is easier to be travelled over on\nthis side than the other; all our way now is down hill; but Assad\nwas so tired with the last day\u2019s fatigue, that he wanted three\ndays repose to recover himself.\n\nThey spent them as they had done many before, in discoursing on\ntheir mothers\u2019 inordinate passion, which had reduced them to such\na deplorable state: But, said they, since Heaven has so visibly\ndeclared itself in our favour, we ought to bear it with patience,\nand comfort ourselves with hopes that we shall see an end of it.\n\nAfter having rested three days, the two brothers continued their\ntravels. As the mountain on that side was composed of several stages\nof extensive fields, they were five days in descending it, before\nthey came into the plain. They then discovered a great city, at\nwhich they rejoiced. Brother, said Amgiad to Assad, are not you of\nmy opinion, that you should stay in some place out of the city,\nwhere I may find you again, while I go and learn the language, and\ninform myself what is the name of the city? in what country we are?\nand when I come back, I will bring provisions with me. It may not be\nsafe for us to go there together.\n\nBrother, replied Assad, your advice is both safe and prudent, and I\napprove of what you say; but if one of us must part from the other\non that account, I will not suffer it to be you; you must allow me\nto go, for what shall I suffer, if any ill accident should happen to\nyou?\n\nBut, brother, answered Amgiad, the same ill accident you fear for\nme, I have as much reason to be afraid of for you; I entreat you to\nlet me go, and do you stay here with patience. I will never yield to\nit, said Assad; if any ill happen to me, it will be some comfort to\nthink you are safe. Amgiad was forced to submit, and Assad going\ntowards the city, he stayed under the trees at the foot of the\nmountain.\n\nPrince Assad took the purse of money which Amgiad had in charge, and\nwent forwards towards the city. He had not gone far in the first\nstreet, before he met with a reverend old man with a cane in his\nhand: he was neatly dressed, and the prince took him for a man of\nnote in the place, who would not put a trick upon him, so he\naccosted him thus: Pray, my lord, which is the way to the\nmarket-place? The old man looked on prince Assad, smiling: Child,\nsaid he, it is plain you are a stranger, or you would not have asked\nthat question of me.\n\nYes, my lord, I am a stranger, replied Assad. The old man answered,\nYou are welcome then; our country will be honoured by the presence\nof so handsome a young man as you are: tell me what business you\nhave at the market-place.\n\nMy lord, replied Assad, it is near two months since my brother and I\nset out from our own country, which is a great way from hence: we\nhave not ceased travelling, and we arrived here but to-day. My\nbrother, tired with such a long journey, stays at the foot of the\nmountain, and I am come to buy some provision for him and me.\n\nSon, said the old man, you could not have come in a better time, and\nI am glad of it, for your and your brother\u2019s sake: I made a feast\nto-day for some friends of mine, and there is a great deal of\nvictuals left untouched: come along with me; you shall eat as much\nas you please, and when you have done, I will give you enough to\nlast your brother and you several days: do not spend your money,\nwhen there is no occasion for it; travellers are always in want of\nit. While you are eating, I will give you an account of our city,\nwhich nobody can do better than myself, who have borne all the\nhonourable offices in it. It is well for you that you happened to\nlight upon me; for I must tell you, all our citizens cannot so well\nhelp and inform you as I can: I can assure you some of them are very\nwicked. Come along, you shall see the difference between a real\nhonest man, as I am, and such as boast of being so, and are not.\n\nI am infinitely obliged to you, replied Assad, for your good will\ntowards me; I put myself entirely into your hands, and am ready to\ngo with you where you please.\n\nThe old man laughed in his sleeve to think he had got the prince in\nhis clutches; and as he walked by the side of him, all the way, lest\nhe should perceive it, talked of various subjects, to preserve the\nfavourable opinion Assad had of him. Among other things, said he, it\nmust be confessed you were very fortunate to meet with me, rather\nthan with any other man. I thank God I met with you: you will know\nwhy I say it when you come to my house.\n\nThither they came ere it was long, and the old man introduced Assad\ninto a hall, where were forty such old fellows as himself, who made\na circle round a flaming fire, which they adored. The prince was not\nmore seized with horror at the sight of so many men mistakingly\nadoring the creature for the Creator, than with fear of finding\nhimself betrayed and in such an abominable place.\n\nWhile Assad stood motionless with astonishment, the old cheat\nsaluted the forty grey-headed men. Devout adorers of fire, said he\nto them, this is a happy day for us. Where is Gazban? call him.\n\nHe spake these words aloud, and a negro, who waited at the lower end\nof the hall, presently came up to him. This black was Gazban; who,\nas soon as he saw the disconsolate Assad, imagined for what he was\ncalled. He ran to him immediately, knocked him down, and bound his\nhands with wonderful activity. When he had done, Carry him down,\nsaid the old man, and fail not to order my daughters, Bostama and\nCavama, to give him every day a good bastinado, with a loaf morning\nand night for his subsistence: this is enough to keep him alive till\nthe next ship departs for the blue sea and the fiery mountain. He\nshall be offered up an agreeable sacrifice to our divinity.\n\nAs soon as the old man had given this cruel order to Gazban, than\nthe slave hurried prince Assad out of the hall, through several\ndoors, till they came to a dungeon, down to which led twenty steps;\nthere he left him in chains of prodigious weight and bigness,\nfastened to his feet. When he had done, he went to give the old\nman\u2019s daughters notice of it; but their father had before sent for\nthem, and given them their instructions himself. Daughters, said he\nto them, go down and give the Mussulman I just now brought in the\nbastinado, as you know how to do it: do not spare him; you cannot\nbetter show your zeal for the worship of the fire.\n\nBostama and Cavama, who were bred up in their hatred to Mussulmen,\nreceived this order with joy. They descended into the dungeon that\nvery moment, stripped Assad, and bastinadoed him unmercifully, till\nthe blood issued out of his wounds, and he was almost dead. After\nthis cruel infliction, they put a loaf of bread and a pot of water\nby him, and retired.\n\nAssad did not come to himself again for a long time; when he did, he\nbroke out into a flood of tears, deploring his misery. His comfort\nhowever was, that this misfortune had not happened to his brother\nAmgiad.\n\nThat prince waited for his brother till evening with impatience:\nwhen it was two, three, or four of the clock in the morning, and\nAssad did not return, he was like one in despair. He spent the night\nin that dismal condition; and as soon as it was day, went to the\ncity, where he was surprised to see but very few Mussulmen. He\naccosted the first he met, and asked him the name of the place. He\nwas told it was the city of the Magicians; so called, from the great\nnumber of magicians, who adored the fire, and that there were but\nvery few Mussulmen. Amgiad then demanded how far it was to the isle\nof Ebene. He was answered, four months voyage by sea, and a year\u2019s\njourney by land. The man he talked to left him hastily, having\nsatisfied him as to those two questions, and went about his business.\n\nAmgiad, who had been but six weeks coming from the isle of Ebene\nwith his brother Assad, could not comprehend how they reached this\ncity in so little time, unless it was by enchantment, or that the\nway across the mountain was much shorter, but not frequented,\nbecause of its difficulty.\n\nGoing farther in the town, he stopped at a tailor\u2019s shop, whom he\nknew to be a Mussulman by his dress, as he had known the man he had\ntalked to before. Having saluted him, he sat down, and told the\noccasion of the trouble he was in.\n\nWhen prince Amgiad had done talking, the tailor replied, If your\nbrother has fallen into the hands of some magician, depend upon it\nyou will never see him more: he is lost past all recovery; and I\nadvise you to comfort yourself as well as you can, and to beware of\nfalling into the same misfortune. To which end, if you will hearken\nto me, you shall stay at my house, and I will tell you all the\ntricks of these magicians, that you may take care of yourself when\nyou go out. Amgiad, afflicted for the loss of his brother, accepted\nthe tailor\u2019s offer, and thanked him a thousand times for his\nkindness to him.\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of Prince Amgiad and a Lady of the City of the Magicians.\n\n\nPrince Amgiad did not go out of the tailor\u2019s house for a whole\nmonth, except his host went with him. At last he ventured to go\nalone to the bath. As he was returning home through a street where\nthere was nobody, he met a lady coming to him. Seeing a handsome\nyoung man, fresh come out of the bath, she lifted up her veil, and\nasked him, with a smiling air, whither he was going; and ogled him\nall the while so amorously, that Amgiad could not resist her charms.\nMadam, said he, I am going to my own house, or yours, as you please.\n\nMy lord, replied the lady, with an agreeable smile, ladies of my\nquality never carry men to their own houses; they always go to the\nmen\u2019s.\n\nAmgiad was very much confounded at this answer, which he did not\nexpect: he durst not venture to take her home to his landlord\u2019s\nhouse, fearing the good man would be scandalized by it, and he\nshould have lost his protection, of which he stood in great need,\nconsidering he was in a city where it was so necessary for him to be\nalways upon his guard: he knew so little of the town, that he could\nnot tell where to carry her, and he could not resolve to lose this\nlucky adventure. In this uncertainty, he determined to throw himself\nupon chance; and without making any answer, he went before, and the\nlady followed him. Amgiad led her from street to street, from square\nto square, till they were both weary with walking: at last they came\nto a street, at the end of which was a great gate, shut up, opening\nto a handsome house, and having a seat on each side of it. Amgiad\nsat down on one of them, as if to take breath; and the lady, more\nweary than he, seated herself on the other.\n\nWhen she had taken her seat, she asked him whether that was his\nhouse. You see it, madam, said Amgiad. Why do you not open the gate\nthen? replied the lady; what do you wait for? Fair lady, answered\nAmgiad, I have not the key; I left it with my slave when I sent him\non an errand, and he cannot be come back yet: besides, I ordered him\nafterwards to get something good for dinner; so that I am afraid we\nshall wait a long time for him.\n\nThe prince met with so many difficulties in satisfying his passion,\nthat he began to repent of it. He therefore contrived this answer,\nin hopes that the lady would take the hint, and out of resentment\nleave him, and seek elsewhere for a lover; but he was mistaken.\n\nThis is a most impertinent slave, said the lady, to make us wait so\nlong. I will chastise him myself as he deserves, if you do not, when\nhe comes back: it is not decent that I should sit here alone with a\nman at a gate. Saying this, she arose and took up a stone to break\nthe lock, which was only of wood, and weak, according to the fashion\nof the country.\n\nAmgiad did all he could to hinder her. What are you doing, madam?\nsaid the prince. For Heaven\u2019s sake stay a little! What are you\nafraid of? replied the lady; is it not your house? It is no great\nmatter to break a wooden lock; a new one will not cost much. The\nlock she accordingly broke; and as soon as the door was open,\nentered the house, and walked before him.\n\nAmgiad gave himself over for a lost man, when he saw the door forced\nopen; he paused upon it, whether he should go into the house or not,\nor make off as fast as he could, to avoid the danger which he\nbelieved was inevitable; and he was going to fly, when the lady\nreturned.\n\nSeeing he did not enter, Why do not you come into your house? said\nshe. The prince answered, I am looking to see if my slave is coming,\nfearing we have nothing ready. Come in, come in, said madam; we had\nbetter wait for him within doors than without.\n\nAmgiad, much against his will, followed her into the house. Passing\nthrough a spacious court, neatly paved, they mounted by several\nsteps into a grand vestibule, which led to a large open hall, very\nwell furnished, where he and the lady saw a table ready spread with\nall sorts of delicacies, another heaped with fruit, and a sideboard\nfull of bottles of wine.\n\nWhen Amgiad saw these preparations, he gave himself up for lost.\nPoor Amgiad, said he to himself, thou wilt soon follow thy dear\nbrother Assad!\n\nThe lady, on the contrary, transported at the sight, cried out, How,\nmy lord, did you fear there was nothing ready? You see your slave\nhas done more than you expected; but if I am not mistaken, these\npreparations were made for some other lady, and not for me: no\nmatter, let her come; I promise you I will not be jealous; I only\nbeg the favour of you that you will permit me to wait on her and you.\n\nAmgiad, as much as he was troubled at this accident, could not help\nlaughing at the lady\u2019s pleasantry. Madam, said he, thinking of\nsomething else that tormented his mind, there is nothing in what you\nfancy; this is my common dinner, and no extraordinary preparation, I\nassure you. As he could not bring himself to sit down at a table\nwhich was not prepared for him, he would have taken his seat on a\nsofa, but the lady would not let him. Come, sir, said she, you must\nbe hungry after bathing, let us eat and enjoy ourselves.\n\nAmgiad was forced to do what the lady would have him: they both sat\ndown and fell to. The lady, having eat a bit, took a bottle and\nglass, poured out some wine, and drank to Amgiad: and when she had\ndrank herself, she filled another glass, and gave it to Amgiad, who\npledged her. The more the prince thought of this adventure, the more\nhe was amazed that the master of the house did not appear, and that\nso rich a house, and so well provided, should be left without a\nservant. It will be lucky, said he to himself, if the master of the\nhouse does not come till I am got clear of this intrigue. While he\nwas occupied with these thoughts, and others more troublesome, she\neat and drank heartily, and obliged him to do the same. They were\nalmost come to the fruit, when the master of the house arrived.\n\nIt happened to be Bahader, master of the horse to the king of the\nmagicians: this house belonged to him, but he commonly dwelt in\nanother; and he seldom came here, unless to regale himself with two\nor three chosen friends. He always sent provisions from his other\nhouse on such occasions, and had done so this day by some of his\nservants, who were just gone as the lady and Amgiad entered it.\n\nBahader came as he used to do, in disguise, and without attendants,\nand a little before the time appointed for his friends coming: he\nwas not a little surprised to see the door of his house broken open.\nHe entered, making no noise, and hearing some persons talking and\nmaking merry in the hall, he stole along under the wall, and put his\nhead half-way within the door to see who they were.\n\nPerceiving a young man and a young lady eating at his table the\nvictuals that had been provided for his friends and himself, and\nthat there was no great harm done, he resolved to divert himself\nwith the adventure.\n\nThe lady\u2019s back was a little turned from him, and she did not see\nthe master of the horse, but Amgiad saw him immediately: he had then\nthe glass in his hand, and was going to drink it off; he changed\ncolour at the sight of Bahader, who made a sign to him not to say a\nword, but to come and speak with him.\n\nAmgiad drank and rose. Where are you going? said the lady. The\nprince answered, Pray, madam, stay here a little; I shall be back\nagain in a minute; a small affair obliges me to go out at present.\nBahader waited for him in the vestibule, and led him into the court\nto talk to him without being heard by the lady.\n\nWhen Bahader and Amgiad were in the court, Bahader demanded of the\nprince how the lady came into his house, and why they broke open his\ndoor. My lord, replied Amgiad, you may very reasonably think me\nguilty of a very unwarrantable action; but if you will have patience\nto hear me, I hope my innocence will appear. He then told him, in a\nfew words, what had happened to him, without disguising any part of\nthe truth; and to convince him that he was not capable of committing\nsuch an action as to break into a house, he told him plainly he was\na prince, and what was the reason of his coming to the city of the\nmagicians.\n\nBahader, who naturally loved strangers, was transported with an\nopportunity of obliging one of Amgiad\u2019s rank and quality; for by\nhis air, his actions, and his well-turned discourse, he did not in\nthe least doubt of the truth of what he said. Prince, said Bahader,\nI am very glad I can oblige you in so pleasant an adventure as this:\nfar from disturbing the feast, it will be a pleasure to me to\ncontribute to your satisfaction in any thing. Before I say any more\non this subject, I am happy to inform you my name is Bahader; I am\nmaster of the horse to the king of the magicians: I commonly dwell\nin another house which I have in this city, and come here sometimes\nto have the more liberty with my friends. You have made this lady\nbelieve you have a slave, though you have none: I will be your\nslave; and that this may not disturb you, and to spare your excuses,\nI repeat again, that I will positively be so; you will soon know my\nreason for it. Go to your place, and continue to divert yourself:\nwhen I return again, and come before you in a slave\u2019s habit, chide\nme for staying so long; do not be afraid even to strike me. I will\nwait upon you all the while you are at table, till night; you shall\nsleep here, and so shall the lady, and to-morrow morning you may\nsend her home with honour. I shall afterwards endeavour to do you\nmore important services: go, and lose no time. Amgiad would have\nmade him an answer, but the master of the horse would not let him,\nforcing him to go to the lady. He had scarce got into the hall\nbefore Bahader\u2019s friends, whom he had invited, arrived. Bahader\nexcused himself for not entertaining them that day, telling them\nthey would approve of the reason of it when they knew it, which\nshould be in due time. When they were gone, he went forth and\ndressed himself in a slave\u2019s habit.\n\nPrince Amgiad came to the lady much better pleased at finding the\nhouse belonged to a man of quality, who had received him so\ncourteously. When he sat down to the table again, he said, Madam, I\nbeg a thousand pardons for my rudeness: I was vexed that my slave\nshould tarry so long; the rascal shall pay for it, when he comes: I\nwill teach him to make me stay so for him.\n\nLet not that trouble you, said the lady; so much the worse for him;\nif he is guilty of any faults, let him pay for it: do not let us\nthink of him; we will enjoy ourselves without him.\n\nThey continued at the table with the more pleasure, as Amgiad was\nunder no apprehensions of the consequence of the lady\u2019s\nindiscretion, who ought not to have broken open the door, though it\nhad been Amgiad\u2019s own house. The prince was now as merry as the\nlady: they said a thousand pleasant things, and drank more than they\nate, till Bahader arrived, disguised like a slave.\n\nBahader entered like a slave who feared his master\u2019s displeasure\nfor staying out when he had company with him: he fell down at his\nfeet, and kissed the ground, to implore his clemency; and when he\nhad done, stood behind him with his hands across, in expectation of\nhis commands.\n\nSirrah, said Amgiad, with a fierce tone and angry look, is there\nsuch a slave as you in all the world? Where have you been? What have\nyou been doing, that you came no sooner?\n\nMy lord, replied Bahader, I ask your pardon; I was executing your\norders, and did not think you would come home so early.\n\nYou are a rascal, said Amgiad, and I shall break your bones, to\nteach you to lie and to disappoint me. He then rose up, took a\nstick, and gave him two or three slight blows with it; after which\nhe sat down to table again.\n\nThe lady was not satisfied with the chastisement he bestowed on him.\nShe also rose, took the stick, and fell upon Bahader so\nunmercifully, that the tears came into his eyes. Amgiad, offended to\nthe last degree at the freedom she took, and that she should use one\nof the king\u2019s chief officers so ill, cried out to her in vain,\nEnough. She continued striking him. Let me alone, said she, I will\ngive him enough, and teach him to be absent so long another time.\nShe continued beating him with great fury, till Amgiad rose from the\ntable, and forced the stick out of her hand; which she did not part\nwith without much struggling. When she found she could beat Bahader\nno longer, she sat down and railed at and cursed him.\n\nBahader wiped his eyes, and stood up to fill out wine. When he saw\nthey had done eating and drinking, he took away the cloth, cleared\nthe hall, put every thing in its place; and, night coming on,\nlighted up the lamps. Every time he came in, or went out, the lady\nmuttered and threatened him, and gave him abusive language, to\nAmgiad\u2019s great disliking, who would have hindered her, but could\nnot. When it was time for them to go to bed, Bahader prepared one\nfor them on the sofa, and withdrew into a chamber, where he laid\nhimself down, and it was not long before he fell asleep, having been\nfatigued with his beating. Amgiad and the lady entertained one\nanother a good half hour afterwards, and the lady wanted to go forth\nbefore she went to bed. Passing through the vestibule, she heard\nBahader snore; and having seen a sabre hanging up in the hall, she\nturned back again, and said to prince Amgiad, My lord, as you love\nme, do one thing for me. In what can I serve you? replied the\nprince. The lady answered, Oblige me so far as to take down this\nsabre, and cut off your slave\u2019s head with it. Amgiad was\nastonished at such a proposal from a lady, not doubting but it was\nthe wine she had drank that prompted it. Madam, said he, let my\nslave alone; he is not worthy of your notice; I have beat him, and\nyou have beat him: it is sufficient: besides, I am very well\nsatisfied with him; he does not use to be guilty of such faults.\n\nThat shall not do, replied the lady, in violent fury; the rogue\nshall die: if not by your hands, by mine. Saying this, she took down\nthe sabre from the place where it hung, drew it out of the scabbard,\nand was going to execute her wicked design.\n\nAmgiad met her in the vestibule, saying, You shall be satisfied,\nmadam, since you will have it so; but I should be sorry that any\none, beside myself, should kill my slave. When she had given him the\nsabre, Come, follow me, said he; make no noise, for fear we wake\nhim. They went into Bahader\u2019s chamber, where Amgiad, instead of\nstriking him, struck at the lady, and cut off her head, which fell\nupon Bahader.\n\nIf the noise of the blow which Amgiad gave the lady, in cutting off\nher head, had not waked Bahader, her head falling upon him would\nhave done it; he was amazed to see Amgiad with a sabre all bloody,\nand the body of the lady lying headless on the ground. The prince\ntold him what had passed, and ending his discourse, said, I had no\nother way to hinder this furious woman from killing you, but to take\naway her life. My lord, replied Bahader, full of gratitude, persons\nof your rank and generosity are not capable of doing such a wicked\naction as she desired of you. You are my deliverer, and I cannot\nenough thank you. After he had embraced him, to show him what sense\nhe had of his obligations to him, he said, We must carry this corpse\nout before it is quite day, leave it to me, I will do it. Amgaid\nwould not agree to that, saying, he would carry it away himself,\nsince he had struck the blow. Bahader replied, You are a stranger in\nthis city, and cannot do it so well as one who is acquainted here; I\nmust do it, if for no other reason, yet for both our safeties, to\nprevent our being questioned for her death: stay you here, and if I\ndo not come back before day, you may be sure the watch has seized\nme; and for fear of the worst, I will by writing give this house and\nfurniture for your habitation; you have nothing to do but to live in\nit.\n\nWhen he had written, signed, and delivered the paper to prince\nAmgiad, he put the lady\u2019s body in a bag, head and all, laid it on\nhis shoulder, and went out with it from one street to another,\ntaking the way to the sea-side. He had not gone far before he met\nwith one of the judges of the city, who was going the rounds in\nperson. Bahader was stopped by the judge\u2019s followers, who, opening\nthe bag, found the body of a murdered lady, bundled up with the\nhead. The judge, who knew the master of the horse, notwithstanding\nhis disguise, took him home to his house, and not daring to put him\nto death without telling the king of it, because of his quality, he\ncarried him to court as soon as it was day. When the king had heard\nfrom the judge, what a foul action he had been guilty of, as he\nbelieved from the circumstances, he addressed the master of the\nhorse in these words: It is thus then that thou murderest my\nsubjects, to rob them, and then thou wouldst throw their dead bodies\ninto the sea, to hide thy villany; let us rid them of you; go, hang\nhim up immediately.\n\nInnocent as Bahader was, he took his sentence of death with all\nimaginable resignation, and said not a word to justify himself. The\njudge carried him to his house, and, while the gallows was\npreparing, he sent a crier to publish throughout the city, that at\nnoon the master of the horse was to be hanged for a murder committed\nby him.\n\nPrince Amgiad, who had in vain expected Bahader\u2019s return, was\nstruck with terrible consternation when he heard the crier publish\nthe approaching execution of the master of the horse. If, said he to\nhimself, somebody must die for the death of such a wicked woman, it\nis I, and not Bahader; I will never suffer an innocent man to be\npunished for the guilty; and without deliberating any more about it,\nhe hastened to the place of execution, whither the people were\nrunning from all parts.\n\nWhen Amgiad saw the judge bringing Bahader to the gibbet, he went up\nto him, and said, I am come to tell you, and to assure you, that the\nmaster of the horse whom you are leading to execution is wholly\ninnocent of the lady\u2019s death: I am guilty of the crime, if it is\none, to have killed a detestable woman, who would have murdered\nBahader; and then he told him all as it happened.\n\nThe prince having informed the judge how he met her coming out of\nthe bath; how she was the cause of going into the master of the\nhorse\u2019s pleasure-house, and all that had passed to the moment in\nwhich he was forced to cut off her head, to save Bahader\u2019s life;\nthe judge ordered execution to be stopped, and conducted Amgiad to\nthe king, taking the master of the horse with him.\n\nThe king had a mind to hear the story from Amgiad himself; and the\nprince, the better to prove his own innocence and the master of the\nhorse\u2019s, took that opportunity to discover who he was, and what\nhad driven him and his brother Assad to that city, with all the\naccidents that had befallen them, from their departure from the\ncapital city of the isle of Ebene, to the time in which he talked to\nhim.\n\nThe prince having done speaking, the king said to him, I rejoice\nthat I have by this means come to the knowledge of you; I not only\ngive you your own and my master of the horse\u2019s life, whom I\ncommend for his kindness to you, but I restore him to his office;\nand as for you, prince, I declare you my grand vizier, to make\namends for your father\u2019s unjust usage of you, though it is also\nexcusable, and I permit you to employ all the authority I now give\nyou to find out prince Assad.\n\nPrince Amgiad having thanked the king of the city and country of\nmagicians for the honour he had done him, and taking possession of\nhis office of grand vizier, he took every possible means to find out\nthe prince his brother. He ordered the common criers to promise a\ngreat reward to any one who should bring forth prince Assad, or tell\nany tidings of him. He sent men up and down the country to the same\npurpose; but notwithstanding all his diligence, he could hear no\nnews of him.\n\n\n\n\nThe Sequel of the Story of Prince Assad.\n\n\nAssad in the meanwhile continued in the dungeon in chains; Bostama\nand Cavama, the cunning old conjuror\u2019s daughters, treating him\ndaily with the same cruelty and inhumanity as at first.\n\nThe solemn festival of the adorers of fire approached; and a ship\nwas fitted out for the fiery mountain as usual; the captain\u2019s name\nwas Behram, a great bigot to that religion. He loaded it with proper\nmerchandise; and when it was ready to sail, he put Assad in a chest,\nwhich was half full of goods, a few crevices being left between the\nboards for him to breathe, enough to keep life in him. This chest\nwas stowed in the bottom of the hold, for the greater security.\n\nBefore the ship sailed, the grand vizier Amgiad, Assad\u2019s brother,\nwho had been told that the adorers of fire used to sacrifice a\nMussulman every year on the fiery mountain, suspected that Assad\nmight have fallen into their hands, and be designed a victim at that\nbloody sacrifice; wherefore he resolved to search the ship in\nperson. He ordered all the passengers and seamen to be brought upon\ndeck, and commanded his men to search all over the ship, which they\ndid, yet Assad could not be found, he was so well concealed.\n\nWhen the grand vizier had done searching the vessel, she sailed, and\nas soon as Behram was got out to sea, he ordered prince Assad to be\ntaken out of the chest, and fettered, to secure him, fearing least\nhe should fling himself into the sea in despair, since he knew he\nwas going to be sacrificed.\n\nThe wind was very favourable two or three days, and then it turned\ncontrary, after which there arose a furious storm; and the vessel\nwas not only driven out of her course, but neither Behram nor his\npilot knew where they were. They were afraid of splitting against\nthe rocks, for in the violence of the storm they discovered land,\nand a dreadful shore before them. Behram saw he was driven into the\nport and capital of queen Margiana, which was a great mortification\nto him.\n\nThis queen Margiana was a devout professor of the Mahometan\nreligion, and a mortal enemy to the adorers of fire. She banished\nall of them out of her dominions, and would not let any of their\nships touch at her ports.\n\nIt was no longer in the power of Behram now to help putting into the\nport of this queen\u2019s capital city, or else he had been dashed to\npieces against the frightful rocks that lay off the shore. In this\nextremity he held a council with his pilot and seamen. My lads, said\nhe, you see to what a necessity we are reduced; we must choose one\nof these two things; either resolve to be swallowed up by the waves,\nor put into queen Margiana\u2019s port, whose hatred to all persons of\nour religion you very well know. She will certainly seize our vessel\nand put us all to death, without mercy. I see but one likely way to\nescape her, which is, to take off the fetters from the Mussulman we\nhave aboard, and dress him like a slave. When queen Margiana\ncommands me to come before her, and asks what trade I use, I will\ntell her I deal in slaves; that I have sold all I had, but one, whom\nI keep to be my clerk, because he can read and write. She will see\nhim, to be sure, and he being handsome, and of her own religion,\nwill have pity on him. No doubt she will then ask to buy him of me,\nand on this condition will let us stay in the port till the weather\nis fair. If any of you have any thing else to propose, that will be\nof more advantage to us, I am ready to hearken to it. The pilot and\nseamen applauded his judgment, and agreed to follow his advice.\n\nBehram commanded prince Assad\u2019s chains to be taken off, and had\nhim dressed like a slave very neatly, as became one who was to pass\nfor his clerk before the queen of the country. They had scarce time\nto do this, before the ship drove into the port, and dropped anchor.\n\nQueen Margiana\u2019s palace was so near the sea-side, that her garden\nextended down to the sea-shore. She saw the ship anchor, and sent to\nthe captain to come to her, and the sooner to satisfy her curiosity,\nwaited for him in her garden.\n\nBehram, who expected to be sent for, landed with prince Assad; whom\nhe required to confirm what he had said of his being a slave, and\nhis clerk. When he was introduced to the queen, he threw himself at\nher feet, and informed her of the necessity he was in to put into\nher port; that he dealt in slaves, and had sold all he had but one,\nwhich was Assad there present, whom he kept for his clerk.\n\nThe queen was taken with Assad from the minute she first saw him,\nand was extremely glad to hear that he was a slave; resolving to buy\nhim, cost what it would. She asked Assad what was his name.\n\nGreat queen, replied Assad, with tears in his eyes, does your\nmajesty ask what my name was formerly, or what it is now? The queen\nanswered, Have you two names then? Alas! it is but too true, said\nAssad: I was once called Assad (most happy); and now my name is\nMotar (devoted to be sacrificed.)\n\nMargiana, not being able to find out the true meaning of this\nanswer, understood it of his condition of a slave; for she perceived\nhe had a great deal of wit. Since you are clerk to the captain, said\nshe, no doubt you can write well: let me see your hand.\n\nBehram had furnished Assad with pen, ink and paper, as a token of\nhis office, that the queen might take him for what he designed she\nshould.\n\nThe prince stepped a little aside, and wrote as follows, suitable to\nhis wretched circumstances:\n\n\u2018The blind man avoids the ditch into which the clear-sighted\nfalls. Fools advance themselves to honours by discourses which\nsignify nothing, while men of sense and eloquence live in poverty\nand contempt. The Mussulman with all his riches is miserable. The\ninfidel triumphs. We cannot hope things will be otherwise. The\nAlmighty has decreed it should be so.\u2019\n\nAssad presented the paper to queen Margiana, who admired alike the\nmoral of the sentences and the goodness of the writing. She needed\nno more to have her heart inflamed, and to feel a sincere concern\nfor his misfortunes. She had no sooner read it, but she addressed\nherself to Behram, saying, Do which you will, either sell me this\nslave, or make a present of him to me; perhaps it will turn most to\nyour account to do the latter.\n\nBehram answered insolently, that he could neither give nor sell him;\nthat he wanted his slave, and would keep him.\n\nQueen Margiana, provoked at his boldness, would not talk to him any\nmore about it. She took the prince by the arm, and turned him before\nher to the palace, sending Behram word, that if he stayed the night\nin her port, she would confiscate his goods, and burn his ship. So\nhe was forced to go back to his vessel, and prepare to put to sea\nagain, notwithstanding the tempest was not yet over.\n\nQueen Margiana, on entering her palace, commanded supper to be got\nready; and while it was providing, she ordered Assad to be brought\ninto her apartment, where she bade him sit down. Assad would have\nexcused himself: It does not belong to a slave, said he, to presume\nto this honour.\n\nTo a slave! replied the queen; you were so a moment ago;\nhenceforward you are no more a slave. Sit down near me, and tell me\nthe story of your life; for by what you wrote, and the insolence of\nthat slave-merchant, I guess there is something extraordinary in it.\n\nPrince Assad obeyed her; and, sitting down, began thus: Mighty\nqueen, your majesty is not mistaken in thinking there is something\nextraordinary in the story of my life: it is indeed more so than you\ncan imagine. The ills, the incredible torments, I have suffered, and\nthe death to which I was devoted, and from which I am delivered by\nyour royal generosity, will show the greatness of my obligation to\nyou, never to be forgotten. But before I enter into particulars of\nmy miseries, which will strike horror into the hearts of all that\nhear it, I must trace the origin of them to its source.\n\nThis preamble increased queen Margiana\u2019s curiosity. The prince\nthen told her of his royal birth; of his brother Amgiad, and their\nmutual friendship; of their mothers\u2019 criminal passion, which in a\nnight turned into inveterate hatred, the cause of all their\nsufferings; of the king his father\u2019s rage; how miraculously their\nlives were saved; how he lost his brother; how he had been long\nimprisoned and tortured, and was only discharged then to be\nsacrificed on the fiery mountain.\n\nWhen Assad had finished his discourse, the queen was more than ever\nenraged at the adorers of fire. Prince, said she, though I have\nalways had an aversion to the adorers of fire, yet hitherto I have\nhad some humanity for them; but after their barbarous usage of you,\nand their execrable design to sacrifice you, I will henceforth\ndeclare perpetual war against them.\n\nShe would have said more, but supper being served up, she made\nprince Assad sit down at table with her, being charmed with his\nbeauty and eloquence, and touched with a passion which she hoped\nsoon to have an opportunity of letting him see. Prince, said she, we\nmust make you amends for so many fasts and wretched meals, which the\npitiless adorers of fire forced you to make; you will want\nnourishment after such sufferings. With these and such like words\nshe helped him at supper; and ordered the prince to drink a good\ndeal of wine to recover his spirits; by which means he drank more\nthan he could well bear.\n\nThe cloth being taken away, Assad wanting to go out, took an\nopportunity when the queen did not see him. He descended into the\ncourt, and seeing the garden door open, went into it. Being tempted\nby the pleasantness of the place, he walked there a while. At last\nhe came to a fountain, where he washed his face and hands to refresh\nhimself, and lying down on the turf round the fountain, fell asleep.\n\nIt was almost night, and Behram, determined to prevent the queen\nfrom executing her threats, had weighed anchor, troubled at the loss\nof Assad, by which he was disappointed of a most acceptable\nsacrifice. He comforted himself as well as he could with the\nthoughts that the storm was over, and that a land breeze favoured\nhis getting off from that coast. As soon as he was towed out of the\nport by the help of his boat, before it was hoisted up into the ship\nagain, Stop, my lads, said he to the seamen in it, do not come on\nboard again; I will give you some casks to fill with water, and will\nwait for you. The sailors excused themselves, for that they did not\nknow where to get water. Behram had observed, while he was talking\nto the queen in the garden, that there was a fountain at the end of\nit, near the port. Go, said he, land before the palace-garden; the\nwall is not above breast high; you may easily get over; there is a\nbasin in the middle of the garden, where you may fill all your\nbarrels, and hand them aboard without difficulty.\n\nThe sailors went ashore at the place he directed them to, and laying\ntheir casks on their shoulders, easily got over the wall.\n\nAs they drew near the basin, they perceived a man sleeping on the\ngrass, and knew him to be Assad. They immediately divided\nthemselves; and while some of the crew filled their barren with as\nlittle noise as possible, others surrounded Assad, and watched to\nstop him if he should awake.\n\nHe was fast, and slept on, giving them time to fill all their casks:\nwhich, as soon as they had filled, they handed over the wall to\nothers of their crew who waited there to carry them aboard.\n\nThey next seized Assad, and bore him away, without giving him time\nto recollect himself. They got him over the wall into their boat\nwith the casks, and rowed to the ship. When they came near her they\ncried out for joy, Captain, sound your trumpets, beat your drums; we\nhave brought you your slave again.\n\nBehram, who could not imagine how the seamen could find and take him\nagain, and did not see Assad in the boat, it being night, waited\ntheir coming on board with impatience, to ask what they meant; but\nwhen he had seen him, he could not contain himself, so great was his\njoy. He commanded him to be chained down again, without staying to\ninquire how they came by him; and having hoisted the boat on board,\nset sail for the fiery mountain.\n\nIn the meanwhile queen Margiana was in a dreadful fright: she did\nnot much concern herself at first, when she found prince Assad was\ngone out, because she did not doubt but he would return in a little\ntime. When some time had passed without his appearing, she began to\nbe uneasy, and commanded her women to look for him. They searched\nall about without finding him; and night coming on, she ordered them\nto search again with torches, which they did to as little purpose.\n\nQueen Margiana was so impatient and alarmed, that she went with\nlights, and finding the garden-door open, went into it, and walked\nall over it with her women, to seek for him herself; and passing by\nthe fountain and basin, she espied a slipper, which she took up, and\nknew it to be prince Assad\u2019s: her women also said it was his. The\nwater being spilt about the basin, made her believe that Behram had\ncarried him off again. She sent immediately to see if he was still\nin the port; and hearing he had set sail a little before it was\ndark, that he lay to some time off the shore, while he sent his boat\nfor water from the fountain, she doubted no longer of the prince\u2019s\nill fortune; so she sent word to the commander of ten ships of war,\nwhich lay always ready in the port, to sail on the shortest notice,\nthat she would embark herself next morning as soon as it was day.\nThe commander lost no time; ordered the captains and subalterns,\nseamen and soldiers aboard, and was ready to sail at the time\nappointed. She embarked; and when the squadron was at sea, told the\ncommander her intention: Make all the sail you can, said she, and\ngive chase to the merchant-man that sailed yesterday evening out of\nthis port: I give it to you to be plundered, if you take it; if not,\nyour life shall answer it.\n\nThe ten ships chased Behram\u2019s two whole days without seeing her.\nThe third day in the morning they discovered her, and at noon had so\nsurrounded her, that she could not escape.\n\nAs soon as cruel Behram espied the ten ships of war, he doubted not\nit was queen Margiana\u2019s squadron in pursuit of him; and upon that\nhe ordered Assad to be bastinadoed, which he did every day, and had\nnot missed once treating him so barbarously since he left the port\nof the city of magicians. On sight of these ships, he used him more\ncruelly than before. He was much perplexed what to do, when he found\nhe was going to be surrounded. To keep Assad, was to declare himself\nguilty; to kill him was as dangerous, for he feared some tokens or\nother of it might be seen. He therefore commanded him to be\nunfettered and brought from the bottom of the hold where he lay.\nWhen he came before him, It is thou, said he, that art the cause of\nmy being pursued; and so saying, he flung him into the sea.\n\nPrince Assad knowing how to swim, made so good use of his feet and\nhands, that he got safe to shore; the waves seconding his bold\nexertions. The first thing he did after he got on shore was to thank\nGod who had delivered him from so great danger, and once more\nrescued him out of the hands of the adorers of fire. He then\nstripped himself, and wringing the water out of his clothes, he\nspread them on a rock, where, by the heat of the sun, and the rock\ntogether, they soon dried. After which he lay down to rest himself,\ndeploring his miserable condition, not knowing in what country he\nwas, nor which way to turn himself. He dressed himself again and\nwalked on, keeping as near the sea side as he could. At last he came\nto a sort of path which he followed, and travelled ten days through\na country which was not inhabited, still living on herbs, plants,\nand wild fruits. At last he approached the banks of a rivulet near a\ncity, which he knew to be that of the magicians, where he had been\nso ill used, and where his brother Amgiad was grand vizier: he was\nvery glad of it, resolving not to come near any of the adorers of\nfire, but only to converse with Mussulmen; for he remembered he had\nseen some the first time he entered the town. It being late, and he\nknowing the shops were already shut, and few people in the streets,\nresolved to stay in a burying-ground near the city, where there were\nseveral tombs built in the form of mausoleums. He found the door of\none of them open; he entered it, and designed to pass the night\nthere.\n\nWe must now return to Behram\u2019s ship, which was soon surrounded on\nall sides by queen Margiana\u2019s squadron, after he had thrown prince\nAssad overboard. The ship in which queen Margiana was in person\nfirst boarded him, and Behram, being in no condition of defence\nagainst so many, furled his sails in token of yielding.\n\nThe queen herself came aboard him, and demanded of him where the\nclerk was, whom he had the boldness to take or cause to be taken out\nof her very palace. Behram replied, O queen! I swear by your\nmajesty, he is not in my ship; you will, by searching it, see my\ninnocence.\n\nMargiana ordered the ship to be searched as narrowly as possible,\nbut she could not find the man whom she so passionately longed to\nrecover, as well out of love to him, as out of that generosity which\nwas her distinguishing character. She was going to kill Behram with\nher own hand, but refrained, contenting herself with seizing his\nship and cargo, and turning him and his men on shore in their boat.\n\nBehram and his seamen arrived at the city of the magicians the same\nnight that Assad did, stopped at the same burying ground, the city\ngates being shut, intending to stay in some tomb till the next day,\nwhen they were opened again.\n\nAs Assad\u2019s ill luck would have it, Behram passed before that in\nwhich the prince was sleeping, with his head wrapt up in his habit:\nAssad awoke at the noise he made, and asked, Who\u2019s there?\n\nBehram knew him again presently. Hah, hah! said he, thou art the man\nwho hast ruined me for ever; thou hast escaped being sacrificed this\nyear, but depend on it thou shalt not escape the next. Saying this,\nhe flew upon him, clapped his handkerchief into his mouth to prevent\nhis making a noise, and by the help of his seamen bound him.\n\nThe next morning, as soon as the city gates were open, Behram and\nhis men easily carried Assad by a round-about way, through streets\nwhere nobody was up, to the old man\u2019s house, where he had been so\ninhumanly treated. As soon as he got in, he was again thrown into\nthe same dungeon. Behram acquainted the old fellow with the sad\noccasion of his return, and the ill success of his voyage. The old\nrascal, upon this, commanded his two daughters, Bostama and Cavama,\nto treat Assad more cruelly than before, if possible.\n\nAssad was in a terrible surprise to find himself in the hands of his\nold persecutors, from whom he had suffered so much, and expected to\nundergo another time the torments from which he hoped that he had\nbeen delivered. He was bemoaning the rigour of his destiny, when he\nsaw Bostama enter with a cudgel, a loaf, and a pitcher of water. He\nwas almost dead at the sight of that unmerciful wretch, and the\nthoughts of the daily sufferings he was to endure for another year,\nafter which he was to die the most horrible death.\n\nBostama dealt not so inhumanly by prince Assad as she had done the\nfirst time of his confinement. His cries, complaints, and earnest\nentreaties to her to spare him, joined with his tears, were so\nmoving, that Bostama could not help being affected by them, and\nshedding tears with him. My lord, said she, covering his shoulders\nagain, I ask a thousand pardons for my inhuman treatment of you\nformerly, and for making you now feel its effect. Till now I was\nafraid of disobeying a father, who is unjustly enraged against you,\nand resolved on your destruction; but at last I loathe and abhor\nthis barbarity. Be comforted; your evil days are over. I will\nendeavour, by better treatment of you, to make amends for all my\ncrimes, the enormity of which you will find I am convinced of. You\nhave hitherto looked on me as an infidel; henceforth believe me one\nof your own religion; having been converted by a slave, who is a\nMussulman. I hope your lessons will finish my conversion. To show my\ngood intentions, I first beg pardon of the true God for all my sins,\nin dealing so cruelly by you, and I trust he will put it in my power\nto set you entirely at liberty.\n\nThe prince was much comforted to hear her talk thus: he thanked the\nAlmighty for the change wrought in her heart He also thanked her for\nher good disposition towards him, and omitted no arguments which he\nthought would have any effect to confirm her in them, by instructing\nher in the Mussulman religion, and telling her his whole story, his\nhigh birth, and adventures, to that time. When he was convinced she\nwas fixed in her good resolution, he asked her how she could hinder\nher sister Cavama knowing it, and treating him as barbarously as she\nused to do? Let not that trouble you, replied Bostama; I know how to\norder matters so that she shall never come near you.\n\nAnd as she said, she every day prevented her coming down into the\ndungeon, where she often visited the prince, and instead of carrying\nhim bread and water, she brought him the best wine and the choicest\nvictuals she could get, which was prepared by her twelve Mahometan\nslaves. She eat with him herself from time to time, and did her\nutmost to make his confinement comfortable.\n\nA few days afterwards, Bostama, as she stood at her father\u2019s door,\nheard the public crier making proclamation; but she could not hear\nwhat it was about, being too far off.\n\nAs he came near her father\u2019s house, she withdrew into it, holding\nthe door half open, perceiving he went before the grand vizier\nAmgiad, brother to Assad; who was accompanied by several officers,\nand other attendants, walking before and behind him.\n\nThe crier, going a few steps from the house, repeated the\nproclamation with a loud voice, as follows: \u2018The most excellent\nand illustrious grand vizier, is come in person to seek for his dear\nbrother, from whom he was separated about a year ago; he is a young\nman of such a person; if any one has him in keeping, or knows where\nhe is, his excellency commands that they bring him forth, or give\nhim notice where he shall find him, promising a great reward to the\nperson that shall so do: if any one conceals him, and he is found,\nhis excellency declares he shall be punished with death, together\nwith his wife, children, and all his family, and his house be razed\nto the ground.\u2019 Bostama, as soon as she had heard this, shut the\ndoor as fast as she could, and ran to Assad in the dungeon. Prince,\nsaid she, with joy, your troubles are at an end, follow me\nimmediately. She had taken off his fetters the first day he was\nbrought in. So the prince followed her into the street, where she\ncried, There he is! there he is!\n\nThe grand vizier, who was not far from the house, returned. Assad\nknew him to be his brother, ran to him, and embraced him. Amgiad,\nwho presently recollected him, returned his embrace with all\npossible tenderness, made him mount one of his officer\u2019s horses,\nwho alighted for that purpose, and conducted him in triumph to the\npalace, where he presented him to the king, by whom he was advanced\nto the post of a vizier.\n\nBostama would not return to her father\u2019s house, which was the next\nday razed to the ground, but kept prince Assad in sight, and was\nsent to the queen\u2019s apartment.\n\nThe old man, her father, and Behram, and all their families, were\nbrought before the king, who condemned them to be beheaded. They\nthrew themselves at his feet, and implored his mercy. There is no\nmercy for you to expect, said the king, unless you renounce your\nadoring of fire, and profess the Mahometan religion.\n\nThey accepted the condition, and were pardoned at the intercession\nof Assad, in consideration of Bostama\u2019s friendship; for whose sake\nCavama\u2019s life, and the lives of the rest of their families, were\nsaved.\n\nAmgiad, in consideration of Behram turning Mussulman, and to\ncompensate for his loss, which he had suffered before he deserved\nhis favour, made him one of his principal officers, and lodged him\nin his house. Behram being informed of Amgiad and his brother\nAssad\u2019s story, proposed to his benefactor to fit out a vessel to\nconvey them to their father king Camaralzaman\u2019s court: For, said\nhe, the king must certainly have heard of your innocence, and\nimpatiently desire to see you ere this; otherwise we can easily\ninform him of the truth before we land; and if he is still in the\nsame mind, you can but return hither.\n\nThe two brothers accepted the proposal, communicated it to the king\nof the city of the magicians, who approved of it, and commanded a\nship to be equipped. Behram undertook the employment cheerfully, and\nsoon got in readiness to sail. The two princes, when they understood\nthe ship was ready, waited upon the king one morning to take their\nleave of him. While they were making their compliments, and thanking\nthe king for his favours, they were interrupted by a great tumult in\nthe city; and presently an officer came to give them notice, that a\nnumerous army was advancing against the city, nobody knowing who\nthey were, or whence they came.\n\nThe king being alarmed at the news, Amgiad addressed himself to him\nthus: Sir, though I have just resigned into your majesty\u2019s hands\nthe dignity of your first minister, with which you were pleased to\nhonour me, I am ready to do you all the service in my power. I\ndesire, therefore, that you would be pleased to let me go and see\nwho this enemy is, that comes to attack you in your capital city,\nwithout having first declared war.\n\nThe king desired him to do so. Amgiad departed from him immediately,\nwith a very small retinue, to see what enemy approached, and what\nwas the reason of their coming.\n\nIt was not long before prince Amgiad descried the army, which\nappeared very formidable, and which approached nearer and nearer.\nThe advanced guards received him favourably, and conducted him to a\nprincess, who stopped, and commanded her army to halt, while she\ntalked with the prince; who, bowing profoundly to her, demanded if\nshe came as a friend or an enemy? if as an enemy, what cause of\ncomplaint she had against the king, his master?\n\nI come as a friend, replied the princess, and have no cause of\ncomplaint against the king of the city of the magicians: his\nterritories and mine are so situated, that it is almost impossible\nfor us to have any disputes. I only come to require a slave, named\nAssad, to be delivered up to me. He was carried away by one Behram,\na captain of a ship belonging to this city, the most insolent man in\nthe world. I hope your king will do me justice, when he knows I am\nMargiana.\n\nThe prince answered, Mighty queen, the slave whom you take so much\npains to seek for is my brother; I lost him, and have found him\nagain. Come, and I will deliver him up to you myself, and will do\nmyself the honour to tell you the rest of the story: the king my\nmaster will rejoice to see you.\n\nThe queen ordered her army to pitch their tents, and encamp where\nthey were, and accompanied prince Amgiad to the city and palace,\nwhere he presented her to the king, who received her in a manner\nbecoming her dignity. Assad, who was present, and knew her as soon\nas he saw her, also paid his respects to her. She showed great joy\nat the sight of him; and while they were thus engaged, tidings came\nthat an army more powerful than the former approached on the other\nside of the city.\n\nThe king of the magicians was more terrified than before,\nunderstanding the second army was more numerous than the first; for\nhe saw this by the clouds of dust they raised, which hid the face of\nthe heavens. Amgiad, cried he, what shall we do now? a new army\ncomes to destroy us. Amgiad guessed what the king meant; he mounted\non horseback again, and gallopped towards the second army. He\ndemanded of the advanced guards to speak with their general; they\nconducted him to a king, for such he was he saw by the crown on his\nhead. --When he drew near him, he alighted, prostrated himself to\nthe ground, and asked what he required of the king, his master.\n\nThe monarch replied, I am Gaiour, king of China; my desire to learn\ntidings of a daughter, whose name is Badoura, whom I married to\nCamaralzaman, son of Schahzaman, king of the isles of the Children\nof Khaledan, obliged me to leave my dominions. I suffered that\nprince to go to see his father Schahzaman, king of the isles of the\nChildren of Khaledan, on condition he came back in a year with my\ndaughter; from that time I have heard nothing of them. Your king\nwill lay an infinite obligation on an afflicted father, to tell him\nif he knows what is become of them.\n\nPrince Amgiad, perceiving by his discourse that the king was his\ngrandfather, kissed his hand with tenderness, and answered him thus:\nSir, I hope your majesty will pardon my freedom, when you know that\nI take it only to pay my duty to my grandfather: I am the son of\nCamaralzaman, king of the isle of Ebene, and of queen Badoura, for\nwhom you are thus troubled; and I doubt not but they are both in\ngood health in their kingdom.\n\nThe king of China, overjoyed to see his grandson, tenderly embraced\nhim. Such a meeting, so happy and unexpected, drew tears from both.\nThe king, inquiring on what occasion he came into a strange country,\nthe prince told him all that had happened to him and his brother\nAssad. When he had ended his relation, My son, replied the king of\nChina, it is not just that such innocent princes as you are should\nbe longer ill used. Comfort yourself; I will carry you and your\nbrother home, and make your peace. Return, and acquaint your brother\nwith my arrival.\n\nWhile the king of China encamped in the same place where prince\nAmgiad met him, that prince returned to let the king of the\nmagicians, who waited for him impatiently, know how he had succeeded.\n\nThe king was amazed that so mighty a king as he of China should\nundertake such a long and troublesome journey, out of a desire to\nsee his daughter, and that he was so near his capital. He gave\norders to make things ready for his reception, and went forth to\nmeet him.\n\nWhile these things were transacting, a great dust was seen on\nanother side of the town; and suddenly news came of the arrival of a\nthird army, which obliged the king to stop, and to desire the prince\nAmgiad once more to see who they were, and on what account they\ncame. Amgiad went accordingly, and prince Assad accompanied him.\nThey found it was Camaralzaman their father\u2019s army, with which he\nwas coming to seek for them. He was so grieved for the loss of his\nsons, that at last emir Giondar declared how he had saved their\nlives, which made him resolve to go and see towards what country the\ntwo princes had travelled.\n\nThe afflicted father embraced the two princes with floods of tears\nof joy, which put an end to those he had a long time shed for grief.\nThe princes had no sooner told him the king of China, his\nfather-in-law, was arrived, but he, with them and a small party,\nrode to wait upon him in his camp. They had not gone far before they\nsaw a fourth army, advancing in good order, which seemed to come\nfrom Persia.\n\nCamaralzaman told the two princes to go and see what army it was,\nand he would in the meanwhile stay for them. They departed\nimmediately; and, coming up to it, were presented to the king to\nwhom the army belonged; and, after having saluted him with due\nreverence, they demanded on what design he approached so near the\nking of the magicians\u2019 capital. The grand vizier, who was present,\nanswered in the name of the king his master, The monarch to whom you\nspeak is Schahzaman, king of the isles of the Children of Khaledan:\nwho has a long time travelled, thus attended, to seek his son,\nprince Camaralzaman, who left his dominions many years ago: if you\nknow any thing of him, you cannot oblige him more than to acquaint\nhim with it.\n\nThe princes only replied, that they would bring him an answer in a\nlittle time: and, gallopping back as fast as they could, told\nCamaralzaman it was king Schahzaman\u2019s army, and that the king his\nfather was with it in person.\n\nWonder, surprise, joy, and grief, to have left the king his father\nwithout taking leave of him, had such an effect on king\nCamaralzaman, that he fainted as soon as he heard he was so near.\nPrince Amgiad and prince Assad, by their assiduities, at length\nbrought him to himself; and when he had recovered his strength, he\nwent to his father\u2019s tent, and threw himself at his feet.\n\nNever was there a more moving interview between a father and a son.\nSchahzaman kindly upbraided Camaralzaman with unkindness in so\ncruelly leaving him; and Camaralzaman discovered a hearty sorrow for\nthe fault which love had urged him to commit.\n\nThe three kings and queen Margiana stayed three days at the court of\nthe king of the magicians, who treated them magnificently. These\nthree days were rendered more remarkable by prince Assad\u2019s\nmarriage with queen Margiana, and prince Amgiad with Bostama, for\nthe service she had done his brother Assad.\n\nAt last the three kings, and queen Margiana, with her husband Assad,\nreturned to their respective kingdoms. As for Amgiad, the king of\nthe magicians had such an affection for him, he would not part with\nhim; and being very old, he resigned his crown to him. Amgiad, when\nhe had the supreme authority, did his utmost to exterminate the\nworship of fire, and establish the Mahometan religion throughout his\ndominions.\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of Noureddin and the Fair Persian.\n\n\nThe city of Balsora was for many years the capital of a kingdom\ntributary to the caliphs of Arabia. The king who governed it in the\ndays of the caliph Haroun Alraschid was named Zinebi. They were\ncousins, the sons of two brothers. Zinebi not thinking it proper to\ncommit the administration of his affairs to one single vizier, made\nchoice of two, Khacan and Saouy.\n\nKhacan was of a sweet, generous, and affable temper, and took a\npride in obliging to the utmost of his power those with whom he had\nany concern, without the least hinderance to justice, which he was\nobliged to distribute; so that he was universally respected at\ncourt, in the city, and throughout the whole kingdom; and the\npraises he so highly deserved were the general theme.\n\nSaouy was of a quite different character: he was always sullen and\nmorose, and disgusted every body, without regard to their rank or\nquality. Instead of making himself beloved and admired for his\nriches, he was so perfect a miser as to deny himself the necessaries\nof life. In short, nobody could endure him, and nothing good was\nsaid of him. But what increased the people\u2019s hatred against him\nthe more, was his implacable aversion to Khacan; always interpreting\nin the worst sense the actions of that worthy minister, and\nendeavouring to do him all the ill offices imaginable with the king.\n\nOne day, after council, the king of Balsora amused himself with his\ntwo viziers and some other members of the council. The conversation\nturned upon the women slaves that are daily bought and sold, and are\nwith us almost accounted in the same rank with our lawful wives.\nSome were of opinion that it was enough if the slave so bought was\nbeautiful and well-shaped, to make amends for the wives, which very\noften, on account of alliance or interest in families, men are\nobliged to marry, though they are not always the greatest beauties,\nor possessed of any perfection, either of mind or body.\n\nOthers maintained, and amongst the rest Khacan, that neither beauty\nnor all bodily perfections were the only things to be desired in a\nslave, but that they ought to be accompanied with a great share of\nwit, prudence, modesty, and agreeableness, and if possible, much\npleasing knowledge. The reason they gave for it was, that nothing\ncould be more agreeable to persons on whom the management of\nimportant affairs depends, than after having spent the whole day in\nthat fatiguing employment, to have a companion in their retirement,\nwhose conversation is not only pleasing, but useful and amusing;\nfor, in short, continued they, there is but little difference\nbetween brutes and those men who keep a slave only to look at, and\ngratify a passion that we have in common with them.\n\nThe king was entirely of their opinion who spoke last, and he gave a\nproof of it, by ordering Khacan to buy him a slave, a perfect\nbeauty, mistress of all those qualifications they had just\nmentioned, and in particular, possessed of knowledge.\n\nSaouy, jealous of the honour the king had done Khacan, and being of\na contrary opinion, said, Sire, it will be very difficult to find a\nslave so accomplished as your majesty requires; and should they\nlight upon such a one, (as I scarce believe they will,) she will be\na cheap bargain at ten thousand pieces of gold. Saouy, replied the\nking, I perceive plainly you think it too great a sum; it may be so\nfor you, though not for me. Then turning to his high treasurer, he\nordered him to send the ten thousand pieces of gold to the\nvizier\u2019s house.\n\nKhacan, as soon as he came home, sent for all the brokers who used\nto deal in women slaves, and strictly charged them that if ever they\nmet with a slave that answered the description he gave them, they\nshould come and acquaint him with it. The brokers, partly to oblige\nthe vizier, and partly for their own interest, promised to use their\nutmost endeavours to find out one to his liking. Scarce a day passed\nbut they brought him one; but he always found some fault or other.\n\nOne day, as Khacan was getting on horseback, very early in the\nmorning to go to court, a broker came to him, and catching hold of\nthe stirrup with great eagerness, told him there was a Persian\nmerchant arrived very late the day before, who had a slave to sell,\nso surprisingly beautiful, that she excelled all women that his eyes\nhad ever beheld: and for wit and knowledge, added he, the merchant\nengages she shall match the finest wits, and the most learned\npersons of the age.\n\nKhacan, overjoyed at this news, which made him hope for a favourable\nopportunity of making his court, ordered him to bring the slave to\nhis palace against his return, and continued his journey.\n\nThe broker failed not to be at the vizier\u2019s at the appointed hour;\nand Khacan, finding the lovely slave so much beyond his\nexpectations, immediately gave her the name of the Fair Persian. As\nhe had an infinite deal of wit and learning, he soon perceived by\nher conversation, that it was in vain to search farther for a slave\nthat surpassed her in any of those qualifications required by the\nking, and therefore he asked the broker at what rate the Persian\nmerchant valued her.\n\nSir, replied the broker, he is a man of few words in bargaining; and\nhe tells me, that the very lowest price he can part with her at, is\nten thousand pieces of gold. He has also sworn to me, that without\nreckoning his care and pains, from the time of his first taking\ncharge of her, he has laid out pretty near the sum upon her\neducation, in masters to accomplish both her body and her mind,\nbesides clothes and maintenance; and as he always thought her fit\nfor a king, so from her very infancy, when he first bought her, he\nhas not been sparing of any thing that might contribute towards\nadvancing her to that high honour. She plays upon all sorts of\ninstruments to perfection; she sings, dances, writes better than the\nmost celebrated authors, makes verses, and, in short, there is\nscarce any book but she has read; so that there never was a slave of\nso great a capacity heard of before.\n\nThe vizier Khacan, who understood the merit of the Fair Persian\nbetter than the broker, who only reported what he had heard from the\nmerchant, was unwilling to drive off the bargain to another time;\nand therefore sent one of his servants to look after the merchant,\nwhere the broker told him he was to be found.\n\nAs soon as the Persian merchant came, It is not for myself, but the\nking, said the vizier Khacan, that I buy your slave; but however,\nyou must let him have her at a more reasonable price than what you\nhave set upon her.\n\nSir, replied the merchant, I should do myself an unspeakable honour\nin offering her as a present to his majesty, if it became a person\nin my situation to make him one of such inestimable value. I ask no\nmore than her education and accomplishments have cost me; and all I\nhave to say is, that I believe his majesty will be extremely pleased\nwith the purchase.\n\nThe vizier Khacan would no longer stand bargaining with the\nmerchant, but paid him the money down immediately. Sir, said he to\nthe vizier, upon taking his leave of him, since the slave is\ndesigned for the king\u2019s use, give me leave to tell you, that being\nextremely fatigued with our long journey, you see her at a great\ndisadvantage; and though she has not her equal in the world for\nbeauty, yet if you please to keep her at your own house but a\nfortnight, and take a little pains with her, she will appear quite\nanother creature: after that, you may present her to the king with\nhonour and credit; for which I hope you will think yourself much\nobliged to me. The sun, you see, has a little altered her\ncomplexion; but after two or three times bathing, and when you have\ndressed her as you think proper, she will be so changed that she\nwill appear to your eyes infinitely more charming than now.\n\nKhacan was much pleased with the advice the merchant gave him, and\nwas resolved to follow it. He assigned the Fair Persian a particular\napartment near his lady\u2019s, whom he desired to invite her to an\nentertainment, and henceforth treat her as a person designed for the\nking; he also entreated her to get several suits of the richest\nclothes for her that could be had, and that became her best. Before\nhe took his leave of the Fair Persian, Your happiness, madam, said\nhe, cannot be greater than what I am about to procure for you: you\nshall judge for yourself; it is for the king himself I have\npurchased you, and I hope he will be better pleased with possessing\nyou than I am in having discharged the commission his majesty has\nhonoured me with. I think it, however, my duty to warn you, that I\nhave a son, who, though he does not want wit, yet is young,\ninsinuating, and forward; and to caution you how you suffer him to\ncome near you. The Fair Persian thanked him for his good advice; and\nafter she had given him an assurance of her intention to follow it,\nhe withdrew.\n\nNoureddin, for so the vizier\u2019s son was named, had free access to\nhis mother\u2019s apartment, with whom he usually eat his meals. He was\nvery genteel, young, agreeable, and bold; and being master of\nabundance of wit and readiness of expression, had the art of\npersuading others as he pleased. He saw the Fair Persian; and from\nthe first interview, though he knew his father had bought her\npurposely for the king, and had declared the same to him, yet he\nnever used the least endeavours to check the violence of his\npassion. In short, he resigned himself wholly to the power of her\ncharms, by which his heart was at first conquered; and from his\nfirst conversation with her, he resolved to employ his utmost\nendeavours to get her from the king.\n\nOn the other hand, the Fair Persian had no dislike to Noureddin. The\nvizier, said she to herself, has done me honour to purchase me for\nthe king of Balsora; but I should have thought myself very happy, if\nhe had designed me only for his own son.\n\nNoureddin was not backward in making use of the advantage of seeing\nand conversing with a beauty he was so passionately enamoured with;\nfor he never would leave her till his mother forced him to do it. My\nson, said she, it is not proper for a young man like you to be\nalways in the women\u2019s apartment: go, mind your studies, and\nendeavour to qualify yourself to succeed your father in his high\nposts and honours.\n\nIt being a great while since the Fair Persian had bathed upon\naccount of her long journey, the vizier\u2019s lady, five or six days\nafter she was purchased, ordered the bath in her own house to be got\nready purposely for her. She sent her to it, with many of her women\nslaves, who were charged by the vizier\u2019s lady to be as attentive\nto her as to herself; and after bathing, to put her on a very rich\nsuit of clothes that she had provided for her. She was the more\ncareful, in order to ingratiate herself with her husband, by letting\nhim see how much she interested herself in every thing that\ncontributed to his pleasure.\n\nAs soon as she came out of the bath, the Fair Persian, a thousand\ntimes more beautiful than ever she appeared to Khacan when he\nbrought her, went to make a visit to his lady, who at first sight\nhardly knew her. The Fair Persian kissed her hand in a very graceful\nmanner, and said to her, Madam, I know not how you like me in this\ndress you have pleased to order for me; but your women, who tell me\nit becomes me so extremely well, they should scarce know me,\ncertainly flatter me: from you alone I expect to hear the truth;\nbut, if what they say be really so. I am indebted to you, madam, for\nthe advantage it has given me.\n\nOh! my daughter, cried the vizier\u2019s lady, transported with joy,\nyou have no reason to believe my women have flattered you: I am\nbetter skilled in beauty than they: and, setting aside your dress,\nwhich becomes you admirably well, your beauty is so much improved by\nthe bath, that I hardly knew you myself. If I thought the bath was\nwarm enough, I would take my turn; for I am now of an age that\nrequires frequent use of it. Madam, replied the Fair Persian, I have\nnothing to say to the undeserved civilities you have been pleased to\nshow me; but as for the bath, it is in wonderful fine order; and if\nyou design to go in, you have no time to lose, as your women can\ninform you as well as I.\n\nThe vizier\u2019s lady, considering that she had not bathed for some\ndays past, was desirous to make use of that opportunity; and\naccordingly she acquainted her women with her intention, who\nimmediately prepared all things necessary on such an occasion. The\nFair Persian withdrew to her apartment; and the vizier\u2019s lady,\nbefore she went to bathe, ordered two little female slaves to stay\nwith her, with a strict charge, that if Noureddin came, they should\nnot give him admittance.\n\nWhile the vizier\u2019s lady was bathing, and the fair slave alone in\nher apartment, in came Noureddin, and not finding his mother in her\nchamber, went directly to the Fair Persian\u2019s, where he found the\ntwo little slaves in the antechamber: he asked them where his mother\nwas? They told him, in the bath. Where is the Fair Persian, then?\nreplied Noureddin. In her chamber, answered the slaves; but we have\npositive orders from your mother not to let you go in.\n\nThe entrance into the Fair Persian\u2019s chamber being only covered\nwith a piece of tapestry, Noureddin went to lift it up, in order to\ngo in, but was opposed by the two slaves, who clapped themselves\njust before it, on purpose to stop his passage: he presently caught\nhold of them both by the arms, and, thrusting them out of the\nantechamber, locked the door upon them. Away they immediately ran,\nwith a great outcry, to the bath, and, with tears in their eyes,\ntold their lady, that Noureddin, having driven them away by force,\nwas got into the Fair Persian\u2019s chamber.\n\nThe vizier\u2019s lady received the astonishing news of her son\u2019s\npresumption with the greatest concern. She immediately left off\nbathing, and, dressing herself with all possible speed, came\ndirectly to the Fair Persian\u2019s chamber; but before she could get\nthither, Noureddin was gone.\n\nThe Fair Persian was extremely surprised to see the vizier\u2019s lady\nenter her chamber all in tears, and in the utmost confusion. Madam,\nsaid she to her, may I presume to ask the occasion of your concern?\nand what accident has happened in the bath, that makes you leave it\nso soon?\n\nWhat! cried the vizier\u2019s lady, can you so calmly ask that\nquestion, when my son Noureddin has been with you alone in your\nchamber? Can there happen a greater misfortune to him or me?\n\nI beseech you, madam, said the fair slave, what prejudice can this\naction of Noureddin\u2019s do to you or him?\n\nHow! replied the vizier\u2019s lady, did not my husband tell you that\nyou were designed for the king, and sufficiently cautioned you to\nbeware of Noureddin?\n\nI have not forgot it, madam, replied the Fair Persian; but your son\ncame to tell me the vizier, his father, had changed his mind, and\ninstead of reserving me for the king, as he first designed, has made\nhim a present of my person. I easily believed him, madam; for, oh!\nthink how a slave as I am, accustomed from my infant years to the\nlaws of servitude, could or ought to resist him! I must own I did it\nwith the less unwillingness on account of a violent inclination for\nhim, which the freedom of conversation and daily intercourse has\nraised in my soul. I could, without regret, lose the hope of ever\nbeing the king\u2019s, and think myself perfectly happy in spending my\nwhole life with Noureddin.\n\nAt this discourse of the Fair Persian\u2019s, Would to God, cried the\nvizier\u2019s lady, that what you say were true! I should hear it with\njoy; but, believe me, Noureddin is an impostor, and has deceived\nyou; for it is impossible his father should ever make him the\npresent he spoke of. Ah! wretched youth, how miserable has he made\nme! but more his father, by the dismal consequences we must all\nexpect to share with him! Neither my prayers her tears will be able\nto prevail, or obtain a pardon for him: but as soon as his father\nhears of his violence to you, he will inevitably sacrifice him to\nhis just resentment. At these words she fell to weeping bitterly;\nand the slaves, who were as much afraid for Noureddin as herself,\nbore her company.\n\nA little after this, in came the vizier Khacan; and being surprised\nto find his lady and her slaves all in tears, and the Fair Persian\nvery melancholy, asked the reason of it; but, instead of answering\nhim, his wife and his slaves kept on weeping and lamenting. He was\nmore astonished at this than before: at last, addressing himself to\nhis wife, I command you, said he, to let me know the occasion of\nyour tears, and to tell me the whole truth.\n\nThe poor disconsolate lady could no longer refuse to satisfy her\nhusband. Sir, said she, first promise not to use me unkindly for\nwhat I tell you, since I assure you that what has happened has not\nbeen occasioned by any fault of mine; then, without staying for his\nanswer, Whilst I was bathing with my women, continued she, your son,\nlaying hold of that fatal opportunity to ruin us both, came hither,\nand made the Fair Persian believe, that instead of reserving her for\nthe king, as you once designed, you had given her to him as a\npresent; I do not say what he did after such a notorious falsehood,\nbut shall leave you to judge of it yourself. This is the cause of my\naffliction, upon your account, and his, for whom I want confidence\nto implore your pardon.\n\nIt is impossible to express the vizier Khacan\u2019s distraction upon\nhearing of the insolence of his son Noureddin. Ah! cried he, beating\nhis breast, and tearing his beard, miserable son! unworthy of life!\nhast thou at last thrown thy father from the highest pinnacle of\nhappiness into a misfortune that must inevitably involve thee also\nin his ruin? neither will the king be satisfied with thy blood or\nmine, to avenge the affront offered to his royal person.\n\nHis lady endeavoured to comfort him. Afflict yourself no more about\nthe matter, said she; I shall easily raise, with part of my jewels,\nten thousand pieces of gold, and you may buy another slave, more\nbeautiful, and more worthy of the king.\n\nAh! replied the vizier, could you think me capable of being so\nextremely afflicted at losing ten thousand pieces of gold? It is not\nthat loss, nor the loss of all I am worth, for that I should not\nfeel; but the forfeiting my honour, more precious than all the\nriches in the world. However, methinks, replied the lady, a loss\nthat can be repaired by money cannot be so very great.\n\nHow! cried the vizier; don\u2019t you know Saouy is my mortal enemy;\nand as soon as this affair comes to his knowledge, do you think he\nwill not exult over me before the king? Your majesty, will he say to\nhim, is always talking of Khacan\u2019s zeal and affection for your\nservice; but see what a proof he has lately given of his being\nworthy the regard you have hitherto shown him. He has received ten\nthousand pieces of gold to buy a slave with; and, to do him justice,\nhe has most honourably acquitted himself of that commission, in\nbuying the most beautiful that ever eyes beheld; but, instead of\nbringing her to your majesty, he has thought it better to make a\npresent of her to his son. Here, my son, said he, take this slave,\nsince thou art more worthy of her than the king. Then with his usual\nmalice will he go on, His son has her now entirely in his\npossession, and every day revels in her arms, without the least\ndisturbance. This, sir, is the exact truth, that I have done myself\nthe honour of acquainting you with, and if your majesty questions\nit, you may easily satisfy yourself. Do you not plainly see,\ncontinued the vizier, how, upon such a malicious insinuation as\nthis, I am every moment liable to have my house forced by the\nking\u2019s guards, and the Fair Persian taken from me, besides a\nthousand other misfortunes that will unavoidably follow? Sir,\nreplied the vizier\u2019s lady to her husband, I am sensible the malice\nof Saouy is very great, and that, if he has but the least intimation\nof this affair, he will certainly give it a turn very\ndisadvantageous to your interest; but how is it possible that he or\nany body else should come to the knowledge of what has been\nprivately transacted in your family? Suppose it comes to the\nking\u2019s ears, and he should ask you about it; cannot you say, that\nupon a strict examination you did not think the slave so fit for his\nmajesty\u2019s use as you did at the first view; that the merchant has\ncheated you; that, indeed, she has a great deal of beauty, but is\nnothing near so accomplished as she was reported to be? The king\nwill certainly believe what you say, and Saouy be vexed to the soul,\nto see all his malicious designs of ruining you entirely\ndisappointed: take courage then, and if you will follow my advice,\nsend for all the brokers, tell them you do not like the Fair\nPersian, and order them to be as expeditious as possible in getting\nanother slave.\n\nThe vizier Khacan, approving of this reasonable advice, resolved to\nmake use of it, as his passion began to cool; yet his indignation\nagainst his son Noureddin was not in the least abated.\n\nNoureddin came not in sight all that day, and not daring to hide\nhimself among his young companions, lest his father should search\nfor him in their houses, he went a little way out of town, and took\nsanctuary in a garden where he had never been before, and where he\nwas totally unknown. He did not come back till it was very late,\nwhen he knew his father was in bed; and then his mother\u2019s women,\nopening the door very softly, let him in without any noise. He went\nout next morning before his father was stirring: and this plan he\npursued for a whole month, to his great mortification. Indeed, the\nwomen never flattered him, but told him plainly, his father\u2019s\nanger was as great as ever, and that he protested, if he came in his\nsight, he would certainly kill him.\n\nThough the vizier\u2019s lady was informed by her women of\nNoureddin\u2019s lying every night in the house, she durst not presume\nto entreat her husband to pardon him. At last she ventured; and one\nday said to him, I have hitherto been silent, sir, not daring before\nto take the liberty of talking to you about your son; but now give\nme leave to ask you what you design to do with him? It is impossible\nfor a son to be more criminal towards a father than Noureddin has\nbeen towards you; he has robbed you of the honour and satisfaction\nof presenting the king with a slave so accomplished as the Fair\nPersian; this I acknowledge; but, after all, are you absolutely\nresolved to destroy him, and, instead of a light evil no more to be\nthought of, draw upon yourself a far greater than perhaps you at\npresent imagine? Are you not afraid that the malicious world, which\ninquires after the reason of your son\u2019s absconding, may find out\nthe true cause, which you are so desirous of concealing? and if that\nshould happen, you would certainly fall into a misfortune, which it\nis so much your interest justly avoid.\n\nMadam, said the vizier, there is sound reasoning in what you have\nurged; however, I cannot think of pardoning Noureddin, till I have\nmortified him as he deserves. He will be sufficiently mortified,\nreplied the lady, if you will put in execution what is just come\ninto my mind: you must know then your son comes hither every night\nafter you are in bed; he sleeps here, and steals out every morning\nbefore you are stirring. Wait for his coming in to-night, make as if\nyou designed to kill him; upon which I will run to his assistance,\nand when he finds his life entirely owing to my prayers and\nentreaties, you may oblige him to take the Fair Persian on what\ncondition soever you please: he loves her, and I am sensible the\nfair slave has no aversion for him.\n\nKhacan was very willing to make use of this stratagem. So, when\nNoureddin came in at the usual hour, before the door was opened, he\nplaced himself behind it: as soon as he entered, he rushed suddenly\nupon him, and got him down under his feet. Noureddin, lifting up his\nhead, saw his father with a dagger in his hand, ready to stab him.\n\nIn that instant came his mother, and catching hold of the vizier\u2019s\narm, Sir, cried she, what are you doing? --Let me alone, replied the\nvizier, that I may kill this base unworthy son. --You shall kill me\nfirst, cried the mother; never will I suffer you to imbrue your\nhands in your own blood. Noureddin improved this moment. My father,\ncried he, with tears in his eyes, I implore your clemency and\ncompassion; nor must you deny me pardon, since I ask it in his name\nbefore whom we must all appear at the last day.\n\nKhacan suffered the dagger to be taken out of his hand; and as soon\nas Noureddin was released, he threw himself at his father\u2019s feet\nand kissed them, to show how sincerely he repented of having\noffended him. Noureddin, said he, return thanks to your mother,\nsince it is purely for her sake I pardon you. I design also to give\nyou the Fair Persian, on condition that you will oblige yourself by\nan oath not to look upon her any longer as a slave, but as your\nwife; that you will not sell her, nor ever be divorced from her; for\nshe having abundance of wit and prudence, and much better conduct\nthan you, I am persuaded she will be able to moderate those rash\nsallies of youth, which are enough to ruin you.\n\nNoureddin, who little expected to be treated after so kind and\nindulgent a manner, returned his father a thousand thanks, with all\nthe gratitude and sincerity imaginable; and the vizier, the Fair\nPersian, and he, were very well pleased and satisfied with the match.\n\nThe vizier Khacan would not wait for the king\u2019s asking him about\nthe commission that he had given him, but took particular care to\nmention it often, representing to his majesty the many difficulties\nhe met with in that affair, and how fearful he was of not acquitting\nhimself to his majesty\u2019s satisfaction. In short, he managed the\nbusiness with so much address, that the king insensibly forgot it;\nand though Saouy had got some small information of the matter, yet\nKhacan was so much in the king\u2019s favour, that he was afraid to\nspeak of it.\n\nIt was now above a year that this nice affair had been kept with\ngreater secrecy than the vizier at first expected, who being one day\nin the bath, and some important business obliging him to leave it,\nwarm as he was, the air, which was then a little cold, struck to his\nbreast, caused a defluxion to fall upon his lungs, which threw him\ninto a violent fever, and confined him to his bed. His illness\nincreasing every day, and perceiving he had but a short time to\nlive, he thus addressed himself to his son Noureddin, who never\nstirred from him during his whole sickness: My son, said he, I know\nnot whether I have made a good use of the riches Heaven has blessed\nme with, but you see they are not able to save me from the hands of\ndeath: the last thing I desire of you with my dying breath is, that\nyou would be mindful of the promise you made me concerning the Fair\nPersian, and in this assurance I shall die content.\n\nThese were the vizier Khacan\u2019s last words. He died a few moments\nafter, and left his family, the court, and the whole city, in great\naffliction for his death. The king lamented him as a wise, zealous,\nand faithful minister; and the whole city bewailed him as their\nprotector and benefactor. Never was there a funeral in Balsora\nsolemnized with greater pomp and magnificence; the viziers and emirs,\nand in general all the grandees of the court, strove for the honour\nof bearing his coffin, one after another, upon their shoulders, to\nthe place of burial; and both rich and poor accompanied him thither\nwith tears in their eyes.\n\nNoureddin gave all the demonstrations of a sorrow equal to the loss\nhe had lately sustained, and lived a great while without ever seeing\nany company: at last he admitted of a visit from an intimate friend\nof his. His friend endeavoured to comfort him; and finding him\ninclined to hear reason, he told him, that having done what was due\nto the memory of his father, and fully satisfied all that decency\nrequired of him, it was now high time to appear again in the world,\nto converse with his friends, and maintain a character suitable to\nhis birth and merit. For, continued he, we should sin both against\nthe laws of nature and civil society, and be thought insensible, if\nupon the death of our fathers we neglect to pay them what filial\nlove requires at our hands; but having once performed that duty, and\nput it out of the power of any man to reproach us on that account,\nwe are obliged to return to our usual method of living. Dry up your\ntears then, and re-assume that wonted air of gaiety, which always\ninspires with joy those that have the honour of your conversation.\n\nThis advice seemed very reasonable. Noureddin was easily persuaded\nto follow it; and if he had followed it with all the regularity it\nrequired, he would certainly have avoided all the misfortunes that\nafterwards befell him. He treated his friend very nobly; and when he\ntook his leave, Noureddin desired him to come the next day, and\nbring three or four friends of their acquaintance. By this means he\ninsensibly fell into the society of about ten young men pretty near\nhis own age, with whom he spent his time in continual feasting and\nentertainments; and scarce a day passed but he made every one of\nthem some considerable present.\n\nSometimes, to oblige his friends, Noureddin would send for the Fair\nPersian, who, notwithstanding her obedience to his command, never\napproved of his extravagant way of living, but often spoke her mind\nfreely. I question not, said she, but the vizier your father has\nleft you an ample fortune; but great as it may be, be not displeased\nwith your slave for telling you, that at this rate of living you\nwill quickly see an end of it. We may sometimes indeed treat our\nfriends, and be merry with them; but to make a daily practice of it,\nis certainly the high road to ruin and destruction: for your own\nhonour and reputation, you would do better to follow the footsteps\nof your deceased father, that in time you may rise to that dignity\nby which he has acquired so much glory and renown.\n\nNoureddin hearkened to the Fair Persian\u2019s discourse with a smile:\nand when she had done, My charmer, said he, with the same air of\nmirth, say no more of that; let us talk of nothing but mirth and\npleasure. In my father\u2019s lifetime I was always under restraint;\nand I am now resolved to enjoy the liberty I so much sighed for\nbefore his death. It is time enough for me to think of leading the\nsober, regular life you talk of; and a man of my age ought to taste\nthe pleasures of youth.\n\nWhat contributed still more to the ruin of Noureddin\u2019s fortune,\nwas his unwillingness to reckon with his steward; for whenever he\nbrought in his accounts, he still sent him away without examining\nthem: Go, go, said he, I trust wholly to your honesty; only take\ncare to let me have wherewith to make merry.\n\nYou are the master, sir, replied he, and I but the steward; however,\nyou would do well to think upon the proverb, He that spends much,\nand has but little, must at last insensibly be reduced to poverty.\nYou are not contented with keeping an extravagant table, but you\nmust lavish away your estate with both hands: and were your coffers\nas large as mountains, they would not be sufficient to maintain you.\nBegone, replied Noureddin; I want not your grave lessons; only take\ncare to provide good eating and drinking, and trouble your head no\nfarther about the rest.\n\nIn the mean time, Noureddin\u2019s friends were constant guests at his\ntable, and never failed to take advantage of the easiness of his\ntemper. They praised and flattered him, extolling his most\nindifferent actions: but, above all, they took particular care to\ncommend whatever belonged to him; and in this they found their\naccount. Sir, said one of them, I came the other day by your estate\nthat lies in such a place; nothing can be so magnificent or so\nhandsomely furnished as your house; and the garden belonging to it\nis a paradise upon earth. I am very glad it pleases you, said\nNoureddin; bring me pen, ink, and paper; without more words, it is\nat your service; I make you a present of it. No sooner had others\ncommended one of his houses, baths, and public buildings erected for\nthe use of strangers, the yearly revenue of which was very\nconsiderable, but he immediately gave them away. The Fair Persian\ncould not forbear letting him know how much injury he did himself:\nbut, instead of hearkening to her, he continued his extravagancies,\nand, the first opportunity that offered, squandered away the little\nhe had left.\n\nIn short, Noureddin did nothing for a whole year but feast and make\nmerry, wasting and consuming, after a prodigal manner, the great\nwealth that his predecessors, and the good vizier his father, had\nwith so much pains and care acquired and preserved.\n\nThe year was but just expired, when somebody one day knocked at the\nhall door, where he and his friends were at dinner together by\nthemselves, having sent away the slaves, that they might enjoy a\ngreater liberty.\n\nOne of his friends offered to rise; but Noureddin, stepping before\nhim, opened the door himself. It seems it was the steward; and\nNoureddin, going a little out of the hall to know his business, left\nthe door half open.\n\nThe friend that offered to rise from his seat, seeing it was the\nsteward, and being curious to know what he had to say to Noureddin,\nplaced himself between the hangings and the door, where he plainly\noverheard the steward\u2019s discourse to his master. Sir, said he, I\nask a thousand pardons for coming to disturb you in the height of\nyour pleasure; but what I have to say is of such importance, that I\nthought myself bound in duty to acquaint you with it. I am come,\nsir, to make up my last accounts, and to tell you, that what I all\nalong foresaw, and have often warned you of, is at last come to\npass. I have not the smallest piece left of all the sums I have\nreceived from you for your expenses; the other funds you assigned me\nare all exhausted. The farmers, and those that owe you rent, have\nmade it so plainly appear to me, that you have assigned over to\nothers what they held of you, that it is impossible for me to get\nany more of them on your account. Here are my books; if you please,\nexamine them; and if you wish I should continue useful to you,\nassign me other funds, or else give me leave to quit your service.\nNoureddin was so astonished at his discourse, that he gave him no\nanswer.\n\nThe friend, who had been listening all this while, and had heard\nevery syllable of what the steward said, immediately came in, and\ntold the company what he had overheard. It is your business,\ngentlemen, said he, to make your use of this caution; for my part, I\ndeclare to you this is the last visit I design ever to make\nNoureddin. Nay, replied they, if matters go thus, we have as little\nbusiness here as you; and for the future shall take care not to\ntrouble him with our company.\n\nNoureddin returned presently after; yet, notwithstanding all his\nefforts to carry it pleasantly to his guests, he could not dissemble\nthe matter; but they plainly perceived the truth of what they had\nheard. He was scarce sat down in his place, but one of his friends\nrose up: Sir, said he, I am sorry I cannot have the honour of\nkeeping you company any longer; and therefore I hope you will excuse\nmy rudeness in leaving you so soon. What urgent affair, replied\nNoureddin, obliges you to be going so soon? My wife, sir, said he,\nis brought to bed to-day; and, upon such an occasion, you know, a\nhusband\u2019s company is always necessary. So, making a very low bow,\naway he went. A minute afterwards a second took his leave, with\nanother excuse. The rest did the same, one after another, till at\nlast not one of those ten friends, that had hitherto kept Noureddin\ncompany, was left in the room.\n\nAs soon as they were gone, Noureddin, little suspecting the\nresolution they had formed never to see him again, went directly to\nthe Fair Persian\u2019s apartment; to whom, in private, he related all\nthe steward had told him, and seemed extremely concerned at the ill\nstate of his affairs. Sir, said the Fair Persian to him, allow me to\nsay, you would never take my advice, but always managed your\nconcerns after your own way, and now you see the fatal consequence\nof it. I find I was not mistaken when I presaged to what a miserable\ncondition you would bring yourself at last: but what afflicts me the\nmore is, that at present you do not see the worst of your\nmisfortunes. Whenever I presumed freely to impart my thoughts to\nyou, Let us be merry, said you, and improve the time that Fortune\noffers us: perhaps she will not always be so prodigal in her\nfavours: but, was I now to blame in telling you that we are\nourselves the makers of our own fortunes by a prudent management of\nthem? You would not hearken to me, and I was forced to let you go\non, however reluctantly.\n\nI must own, replied Noureddin, I was extremely in the wrong in not\nfollowing the advice that you, out of your admirable prudence, gave\nme. It is true, I have spent my estate; but do you not consider, it\nis among a chosen set of friends whom I have long known, and who, I\nam persuaded, have more generosity and gratitude in them than to\nabandon me in distress? Sir, replied the Fair Persian, if you have\nnothing but the gratitude of your friends to depend on, your case is\ndesperate; for, believe me, that hope is ill-grounded, and you will\ntell me so yourself in time.\n\nTo this Noureddin replied, Charming Persian, I have a better opinion\nof my friends\u2019 generosity than you: to-morrow I design to make a\nvisit to them all, before the usual time of their coming hither; and\nyou shall see me return with a round sum, that they will assist me\nwith. I am resolved to alter my way of living, and, with the money\nthey lend me, set up in some business.\n\nNext morning Noureddin failed not to visit his ten friends, who\nlived in the very same street. He knocked at the first door he came\nat, where one of the richest of them lived. A slave came to the\ndoor: but before he would open it, he asked who was there. Tell your\nmaster, said he to the slave, it is Noureddin, the late vizier\nKahcan\u2019s son. The slave opened the door, and showed him into a\nhall, where he left him, to go tell his master, who was in an inner\nroom, that Noureddin was come to wait on him. Noureddin! cried he,\nin a disdainful tone, loud enough for Noureddin to hear it, with\nsurprise; go, tell him I am not at home; and, whenever he comes\nhither, be sure you give him the same answer. The slave came back,\nand told Noureddin he thought his master was within, but he was\nmistaken.\n\nNoureddin came away in the greatest confusion. Ah! base, ungrateful\nwretch! cried he, to treat me so to-day after the vows and\nprotestations of friendship that he made me yesterday. He went to\nanother door, but that friend ordered his slaves also to say he was\ngone out. He had the same answer at the third; and, in short, all\nthe rest denied themselves, though every one was at home at the same\ntime.\n\nNoureddin now began in earnest to reflect with himself, and see the\nfolly of relying upon the protestations of attachment that his false\nfriends had solemnly made him in the time of his prosperity, when he\ncould treat them so sumptuously, and load them with favours. It is\nvery true, said he to himself, with tears in his eyes, that a\nfortunate man, as I was, may be compared to a tree laden with fruit,\nwhich, as long as there is any on its boughs, people will be\ncrowding round, and gathering; but, as soon as it is stripped of\nall, they immediately leave it, and go to another. He smothered his\npassion as much as possible white he was abroad; but no sooner was\nhe got home, than he gave a loose to his affliction, and discovered\nit to the Fair Persian.\n\nThe Fair Persian, seeing him so extremely concerned, fancied he had\nnot found his friends so ready to assist him as he expected. Well,\nsir, said she, are you now convinced of the truth of what I told\nyou? Ah! cried he, my dear, thou hast been too true a prophetess;\nfor not one of them would know me, see me, or speak to me. Who could\never have believed, that persons so highly obliged to me, and on\nwhom I have spent my estate, could have used me so barbarously? I am\ndistracted; and I fear committing some action unworthy myself, in\nthe deplorable and desperate condition I am reduced to, without the\nassistance of your prudent advice. Sir, replied the Fair Persian, I\nsee no other way of supporting yourself in your misfortunes, but\nselling off your slaves and furniture, and living on the money they\nproduce, till Heaven points out some other means to deliver you from\nyour present misery.\n\nNoureddin was very loth to make use of this expedient; but what\ncould he do in the necessitous circumstances he was in? He first\nsold off his slaves, those unprofitable mouths, which would have\nbeen a greater expense to him than in his present condition he could\nbear. He lived on the money for some time; and when it was all\nspent, he ordered his goods to be carried into the market-place,\nwhere they were sold for half their worth, though there were among\nthem several valuable things that cost immense sums. Upon this he\nlived a considerable time; but that supply failing at last, he had\nnothing left by which he could raise any more money, of which he\ncomplained to the Fair Persian in the most sorrowful expressions.\n\nNoureddin little expected the answer this prudent woman made him.\nSir, said she, I am your slave: and you know that the late vizier\nyour father gave ten thousand pieces of gold for me. I know I am a\nlittle sunk in value since that time; but I believe I shall sell for\npretty near that sum. Let me entreat you then instantly to carry me\nto the market, and expose me to sale, and with the money that you\nget for me, which will be very considerable, you may turn merchant\nin some city where you are not known, and by that means find a way\nof living, if not in splendour, yet with happiness and content.\n\nLovely and adorable Persian, cried Noureddin, is it possible you can\nentertain such a thought? Have I given you such slender proofs of my\nlove, that you should think me capable of so base an action? But\nsuppose me so vile a wretch, could I do it without being guilty of\nperjury, after the oath I have taken to my late father never to sell\nyou? I could sooner die than break it, and part with you, whom I\nlove infinitely beyond myself: though, by the unreasonable proposal\nyou have made me, you show me that your love is by no means\nreciprocal.\n\nSir, replied the Fair Persian, I am convinced that your passion for\nme is as violent as you say it is; and Heaven, who knows with what\nreluctance I have made this proposal, that makes you think so hardly\nof me, is my witness, that mine is as great as yours; but to silence\nyour reasons at once, I need only bid you remember, that necessity\nhas no law. I love you to that degree, that it is impossible for you\nto love me more; and be assured, that to what master soever I shall\nbelong, my love for you will always continue the same; and if you\nare ever able to redeem me, as I hope you may, it will be the\ngreatest pleasure in the world to be restored to you again. I\nconfess it is a fatal and cruel necessity to which we are driven;\nbut I see no other way of freeing ourselves from the misery that\ninvolves us both.\n\nNoureddin, who was convinced of the truth of what the Fair Persian\nhad said, and that there was no other way of avoiding a shameful\npoverty, was forced to yield to her proposal. Accordingly he led her\nto the market where the women slaves are exposed to sale, with a\nregret that cannot easily be expressed. He applied himself to a\nbroker, named Hagi Hassan. Hagi Hassan, said he, here is a slave\nthat I have a mind to sell; prithee see what they will give for her.\n\nHagi Hassan desired Noureddin and the Fair Persian to walk into the\nroom; and when she pulled off the veil that covered her face, Sir,\nsaid Hagi Hassan to Noureddin, in a great surprise, if I am not\nmistaken, this is the slave your father, the late vizier, gave ten\nthousand pieces of gold for. Noureddin assured him it was the same;\nand Hagi Hassan gave him some hopes of selling her at a good rate,\nand promised to use all his art to raise her price as high as he\ncould.\n\nHagi Hassan and Noureddin went out of the room; and Hagi Hassan\nlocked the Fair Persian in. He went immediately after the merchants;\nbut they being busy in buying slaves that came from different\ncountries, Greeks, Franks, Africans, Tartars, and others, he was\nforced to stay till the market was done. When the sale was over, and\nthe greatest part of them were got together again, My masters, said\nhe to them, with an air of gaiety in his looks and actions, every\nthing that is round is not a nut: every thing that is long is not a\nfig; all that is red is not flesh, and all eggs are not fresh: it is\ntrue you have seen and bought a great many slaves in your lives, but\nyou never yet saw one comparable to her I am going to tell you of.\nShe is the very pearl of slaves. Come, follow me, and you shall see\nher yourselves, and judge at what rate I shall cry her.\n\nThe merchants followed Hagi Hassan into the apartment where the Fair\nPersian was; and as soon as they beheld her, they were so surprised\nat her beauty, that at the first word they unanimously agreed that\nfour thousand pieces of gold was the very lowest price they could\nset upon her. The merchants left the room; and Hagi Hassan, who came\nout with them, without going any farther, proclaimed with a loud\nvoice. \u2018Four thousand pieces of gold for the Persian slave.\u2019\n\nNone of the merchants had yet offered any thing, and they were\nconsulting together about what they might afford to give for her,\nwhen the vizier Saouy appeared. Perceiving Noureddin in the market,\nsaid he to himself, Noureddin is certainly still making money of his\ngoods (for he knew he had exposed them to sale,) and is come hither\nto buy a slave with it. He advanced forward just as Hagi Hassan\nbegan to proclaim a second time, \u2018Four thousand pieces of gold for\nthe Persian slave.\u2019\n\nThe vizier Saouy, who concluded by the high price, that the slave\nmust be extraordinarily beautiful, was very desirous to see her; so\nspurring his horse forward, he rode up to Hagi Hassan, who was\nsurrounded by the merchants. Open the door, said he, and let me see\nthe slave. It was not the custom to show a slave to a particular\nperson after the merchants had seen her and were treating for her;\nbut none of them durst dispute their right with the vizier: and Hagi\nHassan was obliged to open the door, and made a sign to the Fair\nPersian to come forward, that Saouy might have a sight of her,\nwithout alighting from his horse.\n\nThe vizier was astonished at the sight of so beautiful a slave; and\nknowing the broker\u2019s name, (having formerly dealt with him,) Hagi\nHassan, said he, is it not at four thousand pieces of gold that you\ncry her? Yes, sir, answered he; the merchants just now agreed that I\nshould put her up at that price. I wait their advance on it; and I\nquestion not but they will give a great deal more.\n\nIf nobody offers more, I will give that sum, replied Saouy, looking\nupon the merchants at the same time with a countenance that forbad\nthem to advance any more. He was so universally dreaded, that nobody\ndurst speak a word, even to complain of his encroaching upon their\nprivilege.\n\nThe vizier Saouy having staid some time, and finding none of the\nmerchants outbid him, What do you stay for? said he to Hagi Hassan.\nGo, look after the seller, and strike a bargain with him at four\nthousand pieces of gold, or inquire if he demands more; not knowing\nyet the slave belonged to Noureddin.\n\nHagi Hassan, having locked the chamber door, went to confer with\nNoureddin. Sir, said he to him, I am very sorry to bring you the ill\nnews of your slave\u2019s being just going to be sold for nothing. How\nso? replied Noureddin. Why, sir, said Hagi Hassan, you must know,\nthat the business at first went on well; for as soon as the\nmerchants had seen your slave, they ordered me, without hesitation,\nto cry her at four thousand pieces of gold: accordingly, I cried her\nat that price, and presently the vizier Saouy came, and his presence\nhas stopped the mouths of all the merchants, who seemed inclinable\nto raise her, at least to the same price your deceased father gave\nfor her. Saouy will give no more than four thousand pieces; and it\nis much against my inclination that I am come to tell you the\ndespicable price he offers. The slave indeed is your own; but I will\nnever advise you to part with her upon those terms, since you and\nevery body else are sensible of her being worth infinitely more;\nbesides, he is base enough to contrive a way to trick you out of the\nmoney.\n\nHagi Hassan, replied Noureddin, I am highly obliged to thee for thy\nadvice; do not think I will ever sell my slave to any enemy of our\nfamily: my necessities, indeed, are at present very great; but I\nwould sooner die in the utmost poverty than consent to the\ndelivering her up to him. I have only one thing to beg of thee, who\nart skilful in all the turns and shifts of sale, that thou wouldst\nput me in a way to prevent the sale of her.\n\nSir, said Hagi Hassan, there is nothing more easy: you must pretend,\nthat, being in a violent passion with your slave, you swore to\nexpose her in the market; and for the sake of your oath, you have\nnow brought her hither, without any intention of selling her. This\nwill satisfy every body, and Saouy will have nothing to say against\nit. Come along with me, then; and just as I am presenting her to\nSaouy, as if it were by your own consent, pull her to you, give her\ntwo or three blows, and send her home. I thank thee for thy counsel,\nsaid Noureddin: and thou shalt see I will make use of it.\n\nHagi Hassan went back to the chamber; and having in two words\nacquainted the Fair Persian with their design, that she might not be\nsurprised at it, he took her by the hand, and led her to the vizier\nSaouy, who was still on horseback at the door. Sir, said he, here is\nthe slave; she is yours; take her.\n\nThe words were scarce out of Hagi Hassan\u2019s mouth but Noureddin,\ncatching hold of the Fair Persian, pulled her to him, and giving her\na box on the ear, Come hither, impertinence, said he, and get you\nhome again; for though your ill humour obliged me to swear I should\nbring you hither, yet I never intended to sell you. I have business\nfor you to do yet; and it will be time enough to part with you when\nI have nothing else left.\n\nThis action of Noureddin put the vizier Saouy into a violent\npassion. Miserable debauchee, cried he, wouldst thou have me believe\nthou hast any thing else left to make money of but thy slave? And at\nthe same instant, spurring his horse directly against him,\nendeavoured to have carried off the Fair Persian. Noureddin, nettled\nto the quick at the affront the vizier had put upon him, quitted the\nFair Persian, and laying hold of his horse\u2019s bridle, made him run\ntwo or three paces backwards. Vile dotard, said he to the vizier, I\nwould tear thy soul out of thy body this moment, were it not out of\nrespect for the crowd of people here present.\n\nThe vizier Saouy being loved by nobody, but hated by all, there was\nnot one among them but was pleased to see Noureddin mortify him a\nlittle; and by signs they gave him to understand, that he might\nrevenge himself upon him as much as he pleased, for nobody would\ninterfere in their quarrel.\n\nSaouy endeavoured to make Noureddin quit the bridle; but he being a\nlusty, vigorous man, and encouraged by those that stood by, pulled\nhim off his horse, in the middle of a brook, gave him a thousand\nblows, and dashed his head against the stones, till it was all over\nblood. The slaves that waited upon the vizier would have drawn their\nscimitars, and have fallen upon Noureddin, but the merchants\ninterposing, prevented them. What do you mean? said they to him; do\nyou not see that one is a vizier, the other a vizier\u2019s son? Let\nthem fight it out between themselves; perhaps they will be\nreconciled one time or other: whereas, if you had killed Noureddin,\nyour master, with all his greatness, could not have been able to\nprotect you against the law.\n\nNoureddin, having given over beating the vizier Saouy, left him in\nthe middle of the brook; and taking the Fair Persian, marched home\nwith her, attended by the people, with shouts and acclamations for\nthe actions he had performed.\n\nThe vizier Saouy, cruelly bruised with the blows he had received,\nmade shift to get up, by the assistance of his slaves, and had the\nmortification to see himself besmeared with blood and dirt. He\nleaned upon the shoulders of two slaves, and in that condition went\nstraight to the palace, in the sight of all the people, with greater\nconfusion, because nobody pitied him. As soon as he reached the\nking\u2019s apartment, he began to cry out, and call for justice, after\na lamentable manner. The king ordered him to be admitted; and as\nsoon as he came, he asked him who it was that had abused and put him\ninto that miserable pickle. Sire, cried Saouy, it is the favour of\nyour majesty, and being admitted into your sacred counsels, that has\noccasioned me to have been so barbarously treated. Say no more of\nthat, replied the king; only let me hear the whole story simply as\nit is, and who the offender is; and if he is in the wrong, you may\ndepend upon it he shall be severely punished.\n\nSire, said Saouy then, telling the whole matter to his own\nadvantage, having an occasion for a cook-maid, I went to the market\nof women slaves to buy me one: when I came thither, there was a\nslave just cried at four thousand pieces of gold: I ordered them to\nbring the slave before me; and I think my eyes never did nor will\nbehold a more beautiful creature. I had no sooner examined her\nbeauty with the highest satisfaction, but I immediately asked to\nwhom she belonged; and upon inquiry I found that Noureddin, son to\nthe late vizier Khacan, had the disposing of her.\n\nSire, your majesty may remember, that about two or three years ago\nyou gave that vizier ten thousand pieces of gold, strictly charging\nhim to buy you a slave with it. The money, indeed, was laid out upon\nthis very slave; but instead of bringing her to your majesty,\nthinking his son deserved her better, he made him a present of her.\nNoureddin, since his father\u2019s death, having wasted his whole\nfortune in riot and feasting, has nothing left but this slave, which\nhe at last resolved to part with, and she was to be sold in his\nname. I sent for him; and without mentioning any thing of his\nfather\u2019s prevarication, or rather treachery, to your majesty, I in\nthe civilest manner said to him, Noureddin, the merchants, I\nperceive, have put your slave up at four thousand pieces of gold;\nand I question not, but in emulation of each other, they will raise\nthe price considerably; let me have her for the four thousand\npieces; I am going to buy her for the king, our lord and master:\nthis will be a handsome opportunity of making your court to him; and\nhis favour will be worth a great deal more than the merchants can\npropose to give you.\n\nInstead of returning me a civil answer, the insolent wretch,\nbeholding me with a fierce air, Decrepit villain, said he, I would\nrather give my slave to a Jew for nothing, than to thee for money.\nNoureddin, replied I, without passion, though I had some reason to\nbe a little warm, you do not consider, that in talking at this rate\nyou affront the king, who raised both your father and me to the\nhonours we have enjoyed.\n\nThis admonition, instead of softening him, only provoked him to a\nhigher degree: so that, falling upon me like a madman, without\nregard to my age or rank, he pulled me off my horse, beat me as long\nas he could stand over me, and has put me into this miserable plight\nyour majesty sees me in. I beseech you to consider, that upon your\naccount I have been so publicly affronted. At the end of these words\nhe held down his head and turned away, to shed a shower of tears.\n\nThe abused king, highly incensed against Noureddin by this relation,\nfull of malice and artifice, discovered by his countenance the\nviolence of his anger; and turning to the captain of his guards, who\nstood near him, Take forty of your soldiers, said he, and\nimmediately go plunder Noureddin\u2019s house; and having ordered it to\nbe razed to the ground, bring him and his slave along with you to me.\n\nThe captain of the guards was not gone out of the king\u2019s presence,\nwhen an officer belonging to the court, who overheard the order that\nhad been given, got before him. His name was Sangiar; and he had\nbeen formerly a slave of the vizier Khacan, who had introduced him\nat court, where by degrees be raised himself.\n\nSangiar, full of gratitude for his old master, and affection for\nNoureddin, whom he remembered a child, and being no stranger to\nSaouy\u2019s hatred to Khacan\u2019s family, could not hear the order\nwithout concern. This action of Noureddin\u2019s, said he to himself,\nmay not be altogether so black as Saouy has represented it. He has\nprejudiced the king against him, who will certainly put him to\ndeath, without allowing him time to justify himself. He made so much\nhaste to Noureddin\u2019s house, as to get thither soon enough to\nacquaint him with what had passed at court, and give him time to\nprovide for his own and the Fair Persian\u2019s safety. He knocked so\nviolently at the door, that Noureddin, who had been a great while\nwithout any servant, ran immediately to open it. My dear lord, said\nSangiar, here is no more safety for you in Balsora; you must lose no\ntime, but depart hence this moment.\n\nHow so? replied Noureddin. What is the reason I must be gone so\nsoon? Make haste away, sir, said Sangiar, and take your slave with\nyou. In short, Saouy has been just now acquainting the king, after\nhis own way of telling it, all that passed between you and him; and\nthe captain of the guard will be here in an instant, with forty\nsoldiers, to seize you and the Fair Persian. Take these forty pieces\nof gold to assist you in finding out some other place of safety. I\nwould give you more if I had it about me. Excuse my not staying any\nlonger; I leave you with great reluctance; but it is for the good of\nus both. I have so much interest with the captain of the guards,\nthat he will take no notice of me. Sangiar gave Noureddin but just\ntime to thank him, and away he went.\n\nNoureddin presently acquainted the Fair Persian with the absolute\nnecessity of their going that moment. She only stayed to put on her\nveil, and then they both stole out of the house together, and were\nso lucky as not only to get clear of the city without the least\nnotice being taken of their escape, but also safely to arrive at the\nmouth of the Euphrates, which was not far off, where they embarked\nin a vessel that lay ready to weigh anchor.\n\nThey were no sooner on shipboard, but the captain came on deck\namongst his passengers. Children, said he to them, are you all here?\nhave any of you any more business to do in the city, or have you\nleft any thing behind you? They were all there, they answered him,\nand ready; so that he might sail as soon as he pleased.\n\nWhen Noureddin came on board, the first question he asked was,\nwhither the ship was bound? and being told for Bagdad, he rejoiced\nat it. The captain, having weighed anchor, set sail; and the vessel,\nwith a very favourable wind, lost sight of Balsora.\n\nLet us now see how matters went at Balsora, while Noureddin and the\nFair Persian made their escape from the fury of the enraged king.\n\nThe captain of the guards came to Noureddin\u2019s house, and knocked\nat the door; but nobody coming to open it, he ordered his soldiers\nto break it open, who immediately obeyed him, and rushed in. They\nsearched every hold and comer of the house; but neither he nor the\nFair Persian was to be found. The captain of the guards made them\ninquire of the neighbours; and he himself asked if they had seen\nthem lately. It was all in vain; for if they had seen him go out of\nhis house, so universally beloved was Noureddin, that not one of\nthem would have said the least word to his prejudice. While they\nwere rifling the house, and levelling it to the ground, he went to\nacquaint the king with the news. Look for them, said he, every\nwhere; for I am resolved to have them.\n\nThe captain of the guards made a second search after them, and the\nking dismissed the vizier Saouy with honour. Go home, said he to\nhim; trouble yourself no farther to punish Noureddin: I will revenge\nhis insolence.\n\nWithout delay the king ordered to be proclaimed throughout the whole\ncity a reward of a thousand pieces of gold for any person that\nshould apprehend Noureddin and the Fair Persian, with a severe\npunishment upon whoever should conceal them. But after all his pains\nand diligence, no tidings could be heard of them; and the vizier\nSaouy had only the comfort of seeing the king espouse his quarrel.\n\nIn the mean time, Noureddin and the Fair Persian, after a prosperous\nvoyage, landed safe at Bagdad. As soon as the captain came within\nsight of that city, pleased that his voyage was at an end, Rejoice,\nmy children, cried he to the passengers, yonder is that great and\nwonderful city, where there is a perpetual concourse of people from\nall parts of the world: there you shall meet with innumerable\ncrowds, and never feel the extremity of cold in winter, nor the\nexcess of heat in summer, but enjoy an eternal spring with all it\nflowers, and the delicious fruits of autumn. When the vessel came to\nanchor, a little below the city, the passengers went ashore, each to\ntheir respective place of abode. Noureddin gave the captain five\npieces of gold for his passage, and went ashore also with the Fair\nPersian; but being a perfect stranger in Bagdad, he was at a loss\nfor a lodging. They rambled a considerable time along by the gardens\nthat bordered on the Tigris; and keeping close to one of them that\nwas enclosed with a very fine long wall at the end of it, they\nturned into a street well paved, where they perceived a garden-door,\nand a charming fountain near it.\n\nThe door, which was very magnificent, happened to be shut, but the\nporch was open; in which there was a sofa on each side. This is a\nvery convenient place for us, said Noureddin to the Fair Persian;\nnight comes on apace: and though we have eaten nothing since our\nlanding, I am for passing the night here, and to-morrow we shall\nhave time enough to look for a lodging: what say you to it? --Sir,\nreplied the Fair Persian, you know your wishes are mine; let us go\nno farther, since you are willing to stay here. Each of them having\ndrank a draught of water at the fountain, they laid themselves down\nupon one of these sofas; and after a little chat, being invited by\nthe agreeable murmur of the water, they fell fast asleep.\n\nThe garden belonged to the caliph: and in the middle of it there was\na pavilion, called the Pavilion of Pictures, because its chief\nornaments were pictures, after the Persian manner, drawn by the most\ncelebrated painters in Persia, whom the caliph had sent for on\npurpose. The stately hall within this pavilion was lighted by\nfourscore windows, with a lustre in each: but these were only\nlighted when the caliph came thither to spend the evening; and the\nweather was so very calm, that not a breath of air was stirring.\nThen they made a glorious illumination, and could be seen at a great\ndistance in the country on that side, and by great part of the city.\n\nThere was but one person that had the charge of this fine garden;\nand the office was at this time held by a very aged officer, named\nScheich Ibrahim, whom the caliph himself, for some important\nservice, put into that employment, with strict charge not to let all\nsorts of people in, but especially to suffer nobody either to sit or\nlie down on the sofas at the outward door, that they might always be\nclean; and whenever he found any body there, to punish them severely.\n\nSome business had obliged this officer to go abroad, and he was not\nyet returned. When he came back, there was just daylight enough for\nhim to discern two persons asleep upon one of the sofas, with both\ntheir heads under a piece of linen, to defend them from the gnats.\nVery well, said Scheich Ibrahim to himself, these people disobey the\ncaliph\u2019s orders: but I will take care to teach them better\nmanners. Upon this he opened the door very softly, and a moment\nafter returned with a swinging cane in his hand, and his sleeve\ntucked up to the elbow: he was just going to lay on them both with\nall his might, but withholding his arm, he began to reason with\nhimself after this manner: Thou wast going to strike, without\nreflection, these people, who perhaps are strangers, destitute of a\nlodging, and utterly ignorant of the caliph\u2019s order: so that it\nwould be advisable to know first who they are. Upon this he gently\nlifted up the linen that covered their heads, and was astonished to\nsee a young man so well shaped, and a young woman so beautiful; he\nthen waked Noureddin, by pulling him softly by the feet.\n\nNoureddin, presently lifting up his head, and seeing an old man with\na long white beard standing at his feet, got up, and throwing\nhimself upon his knees and taking his hand, kissed it. Good father,\nsaid he, Heaven preserve you! What do you want, my son? replied\nScheich Ibrahim; who are you, and whence came you? We are strangers\nnewly arrived, answered Noureddin, and we would fain tarry here till\nto-morrow. This is not a proper place for you, said Scheich Ibrahim;\ncome in with me, and I will find one fitter for you to sleep in than\nthis; and the sight of the garden which is very fine will please\nyou, when you see it to-morrow by day-light. Is this garden your\nown? said Noureddin. Yes, replied Scheich Ibrahim, smiling; it is an\ninheritance left me by my father; pray walk in, for I am sure you\nwill not repent seeing it.\n\nNoureddin rose up to thank Scheich Ibrahim for the civility he had\nshown them; and afterwards the Fair Persian and he went into the\ngarden. Scheich Ibrahim locked the door, and going before, led them\nto a spot from whence, at one view, they might see the disposition,\ngrandeur, and beauty of the whole garden.\n\nNoureddin had seen very fine gardens in Balsora, but never any\ncomparable to this. Having satisfied his curiosity, as he was\nwalking in one of the walks, he turned about to the officer that was\nwith him, and asked him what his name was. As soon as he told him it\nwas Scheich Ibrahim, Scheich Ibrahim, said he to him, I must confess\nthis is a charming garden indeed. Heaven send you long to enjoy the\npleasures of it! we cannot sufficiently thank you for the favour you\nhave done us by showing us a place so well worth seeing; however, it\nis but just that we should make you some amends for your kindness:\nhere are two pieces of gold; take them, and get us something to eat,\nthat we may be merry together.\n\nAt the sight of the two pieces of gold, Scheich Ibrahim, who was a\ngreat admirer of that metal, laughed in his sleeve: he took them,\nand leaving Noureddin and the Fair Persian by themselves, went to\nprovide what was necessary, for he was alone. Said he to himself\nwith great joy, These are generous people; I should have done very\nwrong, if, through imprudence, I had ill-treated and driven them\naway. A tenth part of the money will suffice to treat them; and the\nrest I will keep for my pains.\n\nWhile Scheich Ibrahim was gone to fetch something for his own\nsupper, as well as for his guests, Noureddin and the Fair Persian\nwalked up and down the garden, till at last they came to the\npavilion of pictures that was in the middle of it. They stood awhile\nto admire its wonderful structure, size, and loftiness; and after\ntaking a full view of it on every side, they went up a great many\nsteps of fine white marble, to the hall-door, which they found\nlocked.\n\nThey were but just got to the bottom of the steps as Scheich Ibrahim\nreturned loaded with provisions. Scheich Ibrahim, said Noureddin, in\ngreat surprise, did you not tell us that this was your garden? I\ndid, replied Scheich Ibrahim, and do so still. And does this\nmagnificent pavilion also belong to you? said Noureddin. Scheich\nIbrahim was staggered at this unexpected question. If, said he to\nhimself, I should say it is none of mine, they will ask me how I can\nbe master of the garden, and not of the pavilion. As he had made\nthem believe the garden was his, he said the same of the pavilion.\nMy son, said he, the pavilion is not distinct from the garden, but\nthey both belong to me. If so, said Noureddin, since you invite us\nto be your guests to-night, do us the favour to show us the inside\nof it; for if we may judge by the outward appearance, it must\ncertainly be extraordinarily magnificent.\n\nIt would have been a great piece of incivility in Scheich Ibrahim to\nhave refused Noureddin that favour, after what he had already done\nfor him: moreover, he considered that the caliph not having given\nhim notice, according to his usual custom, it was likely he would\nnot be there that night, and therefore resolved to treat his guests,\nand sup with them in that room. He laid the provisions upon the\nfirst step, while he went to his apartment for the key: he soon\nreturned with a light and opened the door.\n\nNoureddin and the Fair Persian entered the hall; and finding it so\nsurprising, were never tired with admiring the beauty and richness\nof the place. Indeed, without saying any thing of the pictures,\nwhich were admirably well drawn, the sofas were very noble and\ncostly; and besides lustres that were fixed to every window, there\nwas between each bar a silver arm, with a wax candle in it.\nNoureddin could not behold these glorious objects without\nrecollecting his former splendour, and sighing.\n\nIn the mean time Scheich Ibrahim was getting ready; and the cloth\nbeing laid upon a sofa, and every thing in order, Noureddin, the\nFair Persian, and he, sat down and eat together. When supper was\ndone, and they had washed their hands, Noureddin opened the\ncasement, and calling the Fair Persian to him, Come hither, my dear,\nsaid he, and with me admire the charming prospect and beauty of the\ngarden by moonlight; nothing can be more agreeable. She came to him;\nand they both enjoyed the view; while Scheich Ibrahim was busy in\ntaking away the cloth.\n\nWhen Scheich Ibrahim came to his guests again, Noureddin asked him\nwhether he had any liquor to treat them with. What liquor would you\nhave! replied Scheich Ibrahim: sherbet? I have the best in the\nworld; but sherbet, you know, my son, is never drank after supper.\n\nI know that very well, said Noureddin: It is not sherbet, but\nanother sort of liquor that we ask you for: and I am surprised at\nyour not understanding me. It is wine then you mean, said Scheich\nIbrahim. You guess right, replied Noureddin; and if you have any,\noblige us with a bottle: you know a bottle after supper is a very\nproper companion to spend the hours with till bed-time.\n\nHeaven defend me from keeping wine in my house, cried Scheich\nIbrahim, and from ever coming to a place where any is! A man who,\nlike me, has been a pilgrimage four times to Mecca, has renounced\nwine for ever.\n\nYou would do us a singular kindness, said Noureddin, in getting a\nlittle for our own drinking; and if it be not too much trouble, I\nwill put you in a way how you may do it, without going into an inn,\nor so much as laying your hand upon the vessel that contains it.\nUpon that condition I will do it, replied Scheich Ibrahim; only let\nme know what I am to do.\n\nWhy, then, said Noureddin to him, we just now saw an ass tied to the\nentrance of your garden, which certainly must be yours, and which\nyou may make use of in this extremity. Here are two pieces of gold\nmore: take them, and lead your ass with the panniers to the next\ninn; you may stand at as great a distance as you please; do but give\nsomething to the first person that comes by, and desire him to go\nwith your ass to the inn, and get two pitchers of wine: put one in\none pannier, and an other in another, which he must pay for out of\nthe money you give him, and so let him bring the ass back to you:\nyou will have nothing to do but to drive the beast hither before\nyou; we will take the wine out of the panniers. By this means you\nwill do nothing that will give you any scruple.\n\nThe two last pieces of gold that Scheich Ibrahim was going to\nreceive wrought wonderfully upon his mind. Ah! my son, cried he,\nafter Noureddin had done speaking, you have an excellent\ncontrivance; and had it not been for your invention, I should never\nhave thought of this way of getting you some wine without any\nscruple of conscience. Away he went to execute the orders, which he\ndid in a little time; and, upon his return, Noureddin went down the\nstairs, and taking the pitchers out of the panniers, carried them\ninto the hall.\n\nScheich Ibrahim, having led the ass back to the place from whence he\ntook him, came back again. Scheich Ibrahim, said Noureddin to him,\nwe cannot enough thank you for the trouble we have already given\nyou, but we want something yet. What is that, replied Scheich: what\nmore service can I do you? We have no cups to drink out of, said\nNoureddin; and a little fruit, if you had any, would be very\nacceptable. Do but say what you have a mind to, replied Scheich\nIbrahim, and you shall have every thing to your heart\u2019s content.\n\nDown went Scheich Ibrahim, and in a short time spread a table for\nthem with beautiful porcelain dishes, full of all sorts of delicious\nfruits, besides gold and silver cups to drink out of; and having\nasked them if they wanted any thing else, he withdrew, though they\npressed him earnestly to stay.\n\nNoureddin and the Fair Persian sat down again, and drank each a cup\na-piece. They were mightily pleased with the wine. Well, my dear,\nsaid Noureddin to the Fair Persian, are we not the most fortunate\npersons in the world, after so many dangers, to meet with so\ncharming and agreeable a place? Let us be merry, and think no more\non the hardships of our voyage. Can my happiness be greater in this\nworld, than to have you on one side of me, and my glass on the\nother? They drank freely, and diverted themselves with agreeable\nconversation, each singing a song.\n\nBoth having very good voices, but especially the Fair Persian, their\nsinging attracted Scheich Ibrahim, who had stood hearkening a great\nwhile on the steps, without discovering himself. He could contain\nhimself no longer, but thrusting his head in at the door, Courage,\nsir, said he to Noureddin, whom he took to be quite drunk, I am glad\nto see you so pleased.\n\nAh! Scheich Ibrahim, cried Noureddin, turning to him, you are a\nglorious man, and we are extremely obliged to you. We dare not ask\nyou to drink a cup; but walk in; come, sit down, and let us have the\nhonour at least of your company. Go on, go on, said Scheich Ibrahim;\nthe pleasure of hearing your songs is sufficient for me. Upon this\nhe immediately retired.\n\nThe Fair Persian perceiving Scheich Ibrahim, through one of the\nwindows, standing upon the steps without the door, told Noureddin of\nit. Sir, said she, you see what an aversion he has for wine; yet I\nquestion not in the least to make him drink some, if you will do as\nI would have you. Noureddin asked her what it was. Do but say the\nword, replied he, and I am ready to do what you please. Prevail with\nhim then only to come in, and bear us company; some time after fill\nup a bumper, and give it him; if he refuses it, drink it yourself,\npretend to be asleep, and leave the rest to me.\n\nNoureddin understood the Fair Persian\u2019s design, and called to\nScheich Ibrahim, who came again to the door. Scheich Ibrahim, said\nhe, we are your guests; you have entertained us in the most obliging\nmanner in the world, and will you now refuse our solicitations to\nhonour us with your company? We do not ask you to drink, but only\nthe favour of seeing you.\n\nScheich Ibrahim being at last prevailed upon, came into the hall,\nand sat down upon the edge of a sofa that stood nearest to the door.\nYou do not sit well there, said Noureddin, and we cannot have the\nhonour of seeing you; pray come nearer, and sit you down by the\nlady; she will like it much. I will obey you, replied Scheich\nIbrahim; so coming forward, simpering, to think he should be seated\nnear so beautiful a creature, he placed himself at some distance\nfrom the Fair Persian. Noureddin desired a song of her, in return\nfor the honour that Scheich Ibrahim had done them; and she sung one\nthat charmed him.\n\nWhen the Fair Persian had ended her song, Noureddin poured out a cup\nof wine, and presented it to Scheich Ibrahim, Scheich Ibrahim, said\nhe, I entreat you drink this to our healths. Sir, replied he,\nstarting back, as if he abhorred the very sight of the wine, I\nbeseech you to excuse me; I have already told you that I have\nforsworn the use of wine these many years. Then since positively you\nwill not drink our healths, said Noureddin, give me leave to drink\nyours.\n\nWhile Noureddin was drinking, the Fair Persian cut half an apple,\nand presented it to Scheich Ibrahim. Though you refused drinking,\nsaid she, yet I believe you will not refuse tasting this apple; it\nis very excellent. Scheich Ibrahim had no power to refuse it from so\nfair a hand, but taking it with a very low bow, put it in his mouth.\nShe said a great many pleasant things upon the occasion; and\nNoureddin, falling back upon the sofa, pretended to fall fast\nasleep. The Fair Persian presently advanced towards Scheich Ibrahim,\nand speaking in a low voice, Look at him, said she; thus, in all our\nmerry parties he constantly serves me; and no sooner has he drank a\ncup or two, but he falls asleep, and leaves me alone; but I hope you\nwill have the goodness to keep me company till he awakes.\n\nAt this the Fair Persian took a cup, and filling it with wine,\noffered it to Scheich Ibrahim. Here, said she, drink off this to my\nhealth; I am going to pledge you. Scheich Ibrahim made a great many\ndifficulties, and begged her to excuse him from drinking: but she\npressed him so, that, overcome by her charms and entreaties, he took\nthe cup, and drank off every drop of the wine.\n\nThe good old man loved a cheering cup in his heart, but was ashamed\nto drink among strangers. He often went to the tavern in private, as\nmany other people do; and he did not take the precaution Noureddin\nrecommended, but went directly to an inn, where he was well known\n(night serving him instead of a cloak), and saved the money that\nNoureddin had ordered him to give the messenger that was to have\ngone for it.\n\nWhile Scheich Ibrahim was eating the half apple after his draught,\nthe Fair Persian filled him out another, which he received with less\ndifficulty than the former, but made none at all at the third. In\nshort, a fourth was drank before Noureddin started up from his\npretended sleep; and bursting out into a violent fit of laughter,\nand looking upon him, Ha! ha! said he, Scheich Ibrahim, have I\ncaught you at last? Did you not tell me you had forsworn wine, and\nnow you have drank it all up from me.\n\nScheich Ibrahim, not expecting to be surprised after that manner,\nblushed a little; however, that did not spoil his draught; but when\nhe had done, Sir, said he to Noureddin, laughing, if there is any\ncrime in what I have done, it lies at this fair lady\u2019s door, not\nmine; for who could possibly resist so many charms?\n\nThe Fair Persian, who perfectly understood Noureddin, took Scheich\nIbrahim\u2019s part. Let him talk, said she: Scheich Ibrahim, take no\nnotice of him, but let us drink on and be merry. A while after,\nNoureddin filled out a cup for himself and the Fair Persian; but\nwhen Scheich Ibrahim saw that Noureddin had forgot him in his turn,\nhe took his cup, and presenting it to the Fair Persian, Madam, said\nhe, do you pretend I cannot drink as well as you?\n\nAt these words of Scheich Ibrahim, Noureddin and the Fair Persian\nwere ready to split their sides with laughing. Noureddin poured him\nout some wine, and they sat laughing, chatting, and drinking, till\npretty near midnight. About that hour the Fair Persian began to take\nnotice that there was but one candle upon the table. Scheich\nIbrahim, said she to the good old officer, you have afforded us but\none candle, when there are so many wax lights yonder; pray do us the\nfavour to light some of them, that we may see a little better what\nwe are doing.\n\nScheich Ibrahim, making use of the liberty that wine inspires when\nit gets into the head, and not caring to be interrupted in his\ndiscourse with Noureddin, bade the Fair Persian light them herself.\nIt is fitter for a young person like you to do it, said he, than for\nme; but be sure not to light above five or six, for that is enough.\nUp rose the Fair Persian immediately, and taking a wax candle in her\nhand, lighted it with that which stood upon the table; and, without\nany regard to Scheich Ibrahim\u2019s order, lighted up the whole\nfourscore.\n\nBy and by, while Scheich Ibrahim was entertaining the Fair Persian\nwith some other discourse, Noureddin took his turn to desire him to\nlight up some of the candles in the lustres, not taking notice that\nall the wax lights were already in a blaze. Certainly, replied\nScheich Ibrahim, you must be very lazy, or less vigorous than I am,\nthat you are not able to light them yourself: get you gone, and\nlight them; but be sure you light no more than three. To work he\nwent; but instead of that number, he lighted them all, and opened\nthe shutters of the fourscore windows, before Scheich Ibrahim, who\nwas deeply engaged with the Fair Persian, knew any thing of the\nmatter.\n\nThe caliph Haroun Alraschid being not yet gone to bed, was in a room\nat his palace by the river Tigris, from whence he could command a\nview both of the garden and pavilion. He accidentally opened the\ncasement, and was extremely surprised at seeing the pavilion\nilluminated; and at first by the greatness of the light, thought the\ncity was on fire. The grand vizier Giafar was still with him, who\nonly waited for his going to rest, and then designed to go home too.\nThe caliph, in a great rage, called the vizier to him. Careless\nvizier, said he, come hither, come hither; look upon the pavilion of\npictures, and tell me the reason of its being illuminated at this\nhour, now I am not there.\n\nThe grand vizier Giafar, upon this news, fell into a violent\ntrembling, fearing something else was the matter: but when he came\nnearer, and with his own eyes saw the truth of what the caliph had\ntold him, he was more alarmed than before. Some excuse must be made\nto appease the caliph\u2019s anger. Commander of the true believers,\nsaid he, all that I can say to your majesty about this matter is,\nthat some five or six days ago Scheich Ibrahim came to acquaint me,\nthat he had a design to assemble the ministers of his mosque, to\nassist at a ceremony he was ambitious of performing in your\nmajesty\u2019s auspicious reign. I asked him if I could be any way\nserviceable to him in this affair; upon which he entreated me to get\nleave of your majesty to perform the ceremony in the pavilion. I\nsent him away with leave to hold the assembly, telling him I would\ntake care to acquaint your majesty with it; and I ask pardon for\nhaving quite forgotten it Scheich Ibrahim, continued he, has\ncertainly made choice of this day for the ceremony; and after\ntreating the ministers of his mosque, he was willing to indulge them\nwith the sight of this illumination.\n\nGiafar, said the caliph, with a tone that plainly showed his anger\nwas a little mollified, according to your own account you have\ncommitted three faults that are unpardonable; the first, in giving\nScheich Ibrahim leave to perform this ceremony in my pavilion; for a\nperson in such an office as his is not worthy of so great an honour;\nthe second, in not acquainting me with it; and the third, in not\ndiving into the good old man\u2019s intention. For my part, I am\npersuaded he only did it to try if he could get any money towards\nbearing the charge of it; but that never came into your head; and\nsure I shall not wrong him in allowing him to revenge himself for\nnot having obtained the expense of the night\u2019s illumination.\n\nThe grand vizier Giafar, overjoyed to hear the caliph put the matter\nupon that footing, very willingly owned the faults he reproached him\nwith, and freely confessed he was to blame in not giving Scheich\nIbrahim a few pieces of gold. Since the case is so, added the\ncaliph, it is just that thou shouldst be punished for thy mistakes,\nbut thy punishment shall be light: thou shalt spend the remainder of\nthe night, as I mean to do, with these honest people, whose company\nI shall be well pleased with; and while I am putting on a\ncitizen\u2019s habit, go thou and disguise thyself with Mesrour, and\ncome both of you along with me. The vizier Giafar would have\npersuaded him it was late, and that all the company would be gone\nbefore he could get thither; but the caliph said he would positively\ngo. The vizier, who knew that not a syllable of what he had said was\ntrue, began to be in great consternation; but there was no reply to\nbe made, and go he must.\n\nThe caliph, then, disguised like a citizen, with the grand vizier\nGiafar and Mesrour, chief of the eunuchs, stole out of the palace\ntogether. They rambled through the streets of Bagdad till they came\nto the garden; the door, through the carelessness of Scheich\nIbrahim, was open, he having forgot to shut it when he came back\nfrom buying the wine. The caliph was very angry at it. Giafar, said\nhe to the grand vizier, what excuse have you for the door being open\nat this unseasonable hour? Is it possible that Scheich Ibrahim makes\na custom of leaving it thus all night? I rather believe the hurry of\nthe feast has been the occasion of this neglect.\n\nThe caliph went into the garden; and when he came to the pavilion,\nresolving not to go into the hall till he knew what was doing there,\nhe consulted with the grand vizier whether it was not his best way\nto climb up into one of the trees that was near it, to make a\ndiscovery. The grand vizier, casting his eyes upon the door,\nperceived it stood half open, and told the caliph. It seems Scheich\nIbrahim had left it so, when he was prevailed upon to come in and\nbear Noureddin and the Fair Persian company.\n\nThe caliph, laying aside his first design, stole softly up to the\nhall door, which standing half open, he could see all the company\nthat were within, without being discovered himself.\n\nBut how was he surprised, when he saw a lady of incomparable beauty\nand a handsome young man sitting at the table, with Scheich Ibrahim\nby them. Scheich Ibrahim held a cup in his hand. My fair lady, said\nhe to the Fair Persian, a true toper never drinks without singing a\nsong first: if you please to hear, I will give you one of my best\nsongs.\n\nScheich Ibrahim sung: and the caliph was the more surprised,\nbecause, till that moment, he never knew of his drinking wine, but\nalways took him for a grave, solid man, as he seemed to be to\noutward appearance. The caliph retired from the door with the same\ncaution as he made his approaches to it; and coming to the grand\nvizier Giafar, who was standing upon the steps a little lower, Come\nup, said he to him, and see if those within yonder are the ministers\nof the mosque, as you would have made me believe.\n\nBy the tone of voice in which the caliph spoke these last words, the\nvizier understood that things went ill on his side: however, he went\nup the steps; but when he had peeped in at the door, and saw all the\nthree sitting in that condition, he trembled for fear of his life.\nHe went back to the caliph, but in so great confusion, that he knew\nnot what to say. What riotous doings are here? said the caliph to\nhim: who are these people that have presumed to take the liberty of\ndiverting themselves in my garden and pavilion? I must however\nconfess, I never saw two persons more beautiful or better paired in\nmy life; and therefore, before I discover my anger, I will inform\nmyself better, and know who they are, and the reason of their being\nhere. He went to the door again to observe them more narrowly; and\nthe vizier, who followed, stood behind him, while he fixed his eyes\nupon them. They both plainly heard every word that Scheich Ibrahim\nsaid to the Fair Persian. Is there any thing, my charming lady,\nwanting to render the pleasure of the evening more complete? Nothing\nbut a lute, replied the Fair Persian; and methinks, if you could get\nme one, all would be very well. Can you play upon it? said Scheich\nIbrahim. Fetch me one, replied the Fair Persian; and you shall hear\nwhether I can or not.\n\nScheich Ibrahim, without stirring very far from his place, took a\nlute out of a press, and presented it to the Fair Persian, who began\nto tune it. The caliph, in the mean time, turning to the grand\nvizier, Giafar, said he, the young lady is going to play upon the\nlute; and if she performs well, I will forgive her, and the young\nman for her sake; but as for thee, I will have thee hanged.\nCommander of the true believers, replied the grand vizier, if that\nis your intention, I wish to God she may play ill. Why so? said the\ncaliph. Because, replied the grand vizier, the longer we live in\nthis world, the more reason we shall have to comfort ourselves with\nthe hopes of dying in good sociable company. The caliph, who loved a\nrepartee began to laugh at this; and putting his ear to the opening\nof the door, he listened to hear the Fair Persian play.\n\nThe Fair Persian began in a style, that, from the moment of her\ntouching the lute, the caliph perceived she did it with a masterly\nhand. Afterwards she began to sing an air; and accompanying the lute\nwith her voice, which was admirably fine, she sung and played with\nso much skill and sweetness, that the caliph was quite ravished to\nhear her.\n\nAs soon as the Fair Persian had finished her song, the caliph went\ndown the steps, and the vizier Giafar followed him. When he came to\nthe bottom, I never, said he, to the vizier, heard a more charming\nvoice, or a lute better touched in my life. Isaac, [88] whom I\nthought the most skilful player in the world, does not come up to\nher. I am so charmed with her music, that I will go in and hear her\nplay before me. We must, therefore, consider how I can do it.\n\nCommander of the true believers, said the grand vizier, if you\nshould go in, and Scheich Ibrahim chance to know you, he would\ninfallibly die with the fright. It is that hurts me, replied the\ncaliph; and I should be loth to be the occasion of his death, after\nso many years\u2019 service. A thought is just come into my head, that\nmay succeed: stay here with Mesrour, and wait for me in the next\nwalk.\n\nThe neighbourhood of the Tygris had given the caliph an opportunity\nof turning a sufficient quantity of water under a stately bridge\ninto his garden, to make a piece of water well terraced, whither the\nchoicest fish of the whole river used to retire. The fishermen knew\nit very well, and would have given the world to fish there; but the\ncaliph had expressly charged Scheich Ibrahim not to suffer any of\nthem to come near it. However, that very night, a fisherman, passing\nby the garden-door, which the caliph had left open as he found it,\nmade use of this opportunity, and, going in, went directly to the\ncanal.\n\nThe fisherman immediately fell to work with his casting nets, and\nwas just ready to draw them, when the caliph, fearing what would be\nthe effect of Scheich Ibrahim\u2019s negligence, but willing to make\nuse of it to bring his design about, came to the same place. The\nfisherman, in spite of his disguise, knew him, and, throwing himself\nat his feet, humbly implored his pardon, and excused himself upon\nthe account of his poverty. Rise, said the caliph, and be not\nafraid; only draw your nets, that I may see what fish you have got.\n\nThe fisherman, recovered of his fright, quickly obeyed the\ncaliph\u2019s orders. He drew out five or six very large fishes; and\nthe caliph choosing the two biggest, tied them together by the head\nwith the twig of a tree. After this, said he to the fisherman, Give\nme thy clothes, and here take mine. The exchange was soon made; and\nthe caliph being dressed like a fisherman, even to his boots and\nturban, Take thy nets, said he to the fisherman, and get thee about\nthy business.\n\nWhen the fisherman, very well pleased with his good fortune, was\ngone, the caliph, taking the two fishes in his hand, went to look\nafter the grand vizier Giafar and Mesrour; he stopped at the grand\nvizier, who not knowing him, asked him what he wanted, and bid him\ngo about his business. The caliph fell a laughing; by which the\nvizier finding it to be him, Commander of the true believers, said\nhe, is it possible it can be you? I knew you not; and I ask a\nthousand pardons for my rudeness. You are so disguised, that you may\nventure into the hall, without any fear of being discovered by\nScheich Ibrahim. Stay you here with Mesrour, said the caliph, while\nI go yonder and play my part.\n\nThe caliph went up to the hall, and knocked at the door. Noureddin\nhearing him first, told Scheich Ibrahim of it, who asked who was\nthere. The caliph opened the door, and stepping a little way into\nthe hall to show himself, Scheich Ibrahim, said he, I am the\nfisherman Kerim, who, being informed of your design to treat some of\nyour friends, have brought you two very fine fishes, fresh caught,\nto ask if you have any occasion for them.\n\nNoureddin and the Fair Persian, mightily pleased to hear him name\nfish, Pray, said she to Scheich Ibrahim, let him come in, that we\nmay look at them. Scheich Ibrahim, by this time, was incapable of\nasking this counterfeit fisherman how or which way he came thither,\nhis whole thought being only to oblige the Fair Persian. With much\nado he turned his head towards the door, being quite drunk, and, in\na stammering tone, calling to the caliph, whom he took to be a\nfisherman, Come hither, thou nightly thief, said he, and let us see\nwhat thou hast got.\n\nThe caliph went forwards, and counterfeiting all the actions of a\nfisherman to a nicety, presented the two fishes. These are very fine\nones indeed, said the Fair Persian; and if they were well dressed\nand seasoned, I should be glad to eat some of them. The lady is in\nthe right on it, answered Scheich Ibraham; but what can you do with\nyour fish, unless it were dressed? Go dress it thyself, and bring it\nto us; thou wilt find every thing necessary in my kitchen.\n\nThe caliph went back to the grand vizier, Giafar, said he, I have\nbeen very well received; but they want the fish to be dressed. I\nwill take care to dress it myself, said the grand vizier, and they\nshall have it in a moment. Nay, replied the caliph, so eager am I to\naccomplish my design, that I will take that trouble myself; for\nsince I have personated the fisherman so well, sure I can play the\ncook for once. In my younger days, I dealt a little in cookery, and\nalways came off with credit. So saying, he went directly towards\nScheich Ibrahim\u2019s lodgings, and the grand vizier and Mesrour\nfollowed him.\n\nThey all three fell to work; and though Scheich Ibrahim\u2019s kitchen\nwas not very large, yet there was every thing in it that they\nwanted. The fish was quickly cooked; and the caliph served it up,\nputting to every one\u2019s plate a lemon to squeeze in the sauce if\nthey thought proper. They all eat very heartily, but especially\nNoureddin and the Fair Persian: and the caliph stood before them.\n\nAs soon as the repast was over, Noureddin looking upon the caliph,\nFisherman, said he, there never was better fish eaten; and you have\ndone us the greatest favour in the world. At the same time, putting\nhis hand into his bosom, and pulling out a purse of thirty pieces of\ngold, the remainder of forty that Sangiar, the officer of the king\nof Balsora, had given him just upon his departure, Take it, said he\nto him; if I had any more, thou shouldst have it; had I known thee\nin my prosperity, I would have taken care to secure thee from ever\nwanting: do not refuse the small present I make thee, but accept of\nit as kindly as if it was much greater.\n\nThe caliph took the purse, and thanked Noureddin; and perceiving by\nthe weight that it contained gold, Sir, said he to him, I cannot\nenough thank you for your liberality, and I think myself very\nfortunate in having to do with a person of your generosity; but\nbefore I take my leave I have a favour to ask, which I beg you not\nto deny me. Yonder is a lute, which makes me believe that the lady\nunderstands playing upon it; and if you can prevail with her to play\nbut one tune, I shall go away perfectly satisfied; for a lute, sir,\nis an instrument I am particularly fond of.\n\nFair Persian, said Noureddin, immediately addressing himself to her,\nI ask that favour of you, and I hope you will not refuse me. She\ntook up the lute without more entreaties, and putting it presently\nin tune, played and sung with such an air, as charmed the very soul\nof the caliph. Afterwards she played upon the lute without singing,\nbut with so much strength and softness, that transported him into an\necstacy.\n\nWhen the Fair Persian had given over playing, the caliph cried out,\nWhat a voice! what a hand! what skill! was there ever finer singing,\nor better playing upon the lute? Never was there any seen or heard\nlike it.\n\nNoureddin, who was accustomed to give all that belonged to him to\npersons who praised him, Fisherman, said he, I find thou hast some\ntaste for music; since thou art so delighted with her performance,\nshe is thine; I make thee a present of her. At the same time he rose\nup, and taking his robe, which he had laid by, was going away, and\nleaving the caliph, whom he believed to be no other than a\nfisherman, in possession of the Fair Persian.\n\nThe Fair Persian was extremely surprised at Noureddin\u2019s\nliberality: she took hold of him, and, looking tenderly at him,\nWhither, sir, said she, are you going? Sit down in your place, I\nentreat you, and hearken to what I am going to sing and play. He did\nas she desired him; and then the Fair Persian, touching the lute,\nand looking upon him with tears in her eyes, sung some verses that\nshe had made extempore, to reproach him with his indifference, and\nthe easiness as well as cruelty with which he resigned her to Kerim.\nShe only hinted without explaining herself any farther to a\nfisherman as Kerim was; for she, as well as Noureddin, was ignorant\nof his being the caliph. When she had done playing, she put the lute\ndown by her, and clapped a handkerchief to her face, to hide the\ntears she could not help shedding.\n\nNoureddin made no answer to all these reproaches, but by his silence\nseemed to declare he did not repent of what he had done. The caliph,\nsurprised at what he had heard, Sir, said he, as far as I see, this\nbeautiful, rare, and accomplished lady, that so generously you have\nmade me a present of just now, is your slave, and you are her\nmaster. It is very true, Kerim, replied Noureddin; and thou wouldst\nbe more surprised than thou art now, should I tell thee all the\nmisfortunes that have happened to me upon her account. Ah! I beseech\nyou, sir, replied the caliph, still behaving like a fisherman,\noblige me so far as to let me hear part of your story.\n\nNoureddin, who had already obliged him in several things of more\nconsequence, was so complaisant as to relate the whole story to him.\nHe began with the vizier his father\u2019s buying the Fair Persian for\nthe king of Balsora, and omitted nothing of what he had done, or\nwhat had happened to him from that time to their arrival at Bagdad,\nand to that very moment he was talking to him.\n\nWhen Noureddin had ended his story And whither are you going now?\nsaid the caliph. Where Heaven shall direct me, answered Noureddin.\nIf you will believe me, replied the caliph, you shall go no farther,\nbut, on the contrary, you must return to Balsora. I will write a\nshort letter, which you shall give the king in my name: you shall\nsee, upon the reading it, he will give you a very handsome\nreception, and nobody will dare to speak against you.\n\nKerim, said Noureddin, what thou hast told me is very singular; I\nnever heard that a poor fisherman, as thou art, had any\ncorrespondence with a king. Be not astonished at that, replied the\ncaliph: you must know, that we both studied together under the same\nmasters, and were always the best friends in the world. It is true,\nfortune has not been equally favorable to us; she has made him a\nking, and me but a fisherman. But this inequality has not lessened\nour friendship: he has often expressed a readiness and desire to\nadvance my fortune, but I always refused it; and am better pleased\nwith the satisfaction of knowing that he will never deny me whatever\nI ask for the service and advantage of my friends: let me do it, and\nyou shall see the success.\n\nNoureddin consented to what the caliph had proposed; and there being\nevery thing necessary for writing in the hall, the caliph wrote a\nletter to the king of Balsora; at the top of which, near the edge of\nthe paper, he placed this form, in three small characters, \u2018In the\nname of the most merciful God,\u2019 to show he would be absolutely\nobeyed.\n\n\n\n\nThe letter of Caliph Haroun Alraschid to the King of Balsora.\n\n\n\u2018Haroun Alraschid, son of Mandi, sends this letter to Mahommed\nZinebi, his cousin. As soon as Noureddin, son to the late vizier\nKhacan, the bearer, has delivered you this letter, and you have read\nit, pull off the royal mantle, put it on his shoulders, and place\nhim in thy seat without fail. Farewell.\u2019\n\nThe caliph folded up the letter, and sealed it; and giving it to\nNoureddin, without saying any thing of what was in it, Go, said he,\nembark immediately in a vessel that is ready to go off, (as there\ndid constantly every every day at the same hour;) you may sleep when\nyou are abroad.\n\nNoureddin took the letter, and away he went, with the little money\nhe had about him when Sangiar gave him his purse; and the Fair\nPersian, distracted with grief at his departure, retired to one of\nthe sofas, and fell to weeping bitterly.\n\nNoureddin was scarce gone out of the hall, when Scheich Ibrahim, who\nhad been silent during the whole transaction, looking stedfastly\nupon the caliph, whom he still took for the fisherman Kerim,\nHark\u2019e, said he, Kerim, thou hast brought us two fishes that are\nworth twenty pieces of copper at most, and thou hast got a purse and\na slave; but dost thou think to have it all for thyself? I here\ndeclare, that I will go halves with thee in the slave; and as for\nthe purse, show me what is in the inside: if it is silver, thou\nshalt have one piece for thyself; but if it is gold, I will have it\nall, and give thee in exchange some pieces of copper which I have in\nmy purse.\n\nFor the better understanding of what follows, Scheherazade,\ninterrupting herself here, said, we must observe, that the caliph,\nbefore his serving up the fish, had despatched the grand vizier\nGiafar to his palace, with orders to get four slaves, with a rich\nhabit, and to wait on the other side of the pavilion till he gave a\nsignal with his finger against the window. The grand vizier\nperformed his commission, and he, Mesrour, and the four slaves,\nwaited at the appointed place, expecting the sign.\n\nBut to return to my story, said the sultaness. The caliph, still\npersonating the fisherman, answered Scheich Ibrahim boldly, I know\nnot what there is in the purse; gold or silver, you shall freely go\nmy halves; but as to the slave, I will have her all to myself; and\nif you will not accept these conditions, you shall have nothing.\n\nScheich Ibrahim, enraged to the last degree at this insolence,\nconsidering him only as a fisherman, snatched up one of the china\ndishes which were on the table, and flung it at the caliph\u2019s head.\nThe caliph easily avoided the blow, being thrown by a person in\nliquor; but the dish striking against the wall, was dashed into a\nthousand pieces. Scheich Ibrahim grew more enraged at having missed\nhis aim; and, catching up the candle that stood upon the table, rose\nfrom his seat, and went staggering down a pair of back stairs to\nlook for a cane.\n\nThe caliph took this opportunity, and striking his hands against the\nwindow, the grand vizier, Mesrour, and the four slaves, were with\nhim in a trice; the slaves quickly pulled off the fisherman\u2019s\nclothes, and put him on the habit they had brought. They had not\nquite dressed the caliph, who had seated himself upon the throne\nthat was in the hall, but were very busy about him, when Scheich\nIbrahim, spurred on by interest, came back, with a swinging cane in\nhis hand, with which he designed to pay the pretended fisherman\nsoundly; but instead of finding him, he saw his clothes in the\nmiddle of the hall, and the caliph upon his throne, with the grand\nvizier and Mesrour on each side of him. He stood awhile gazing upon\nthis unexpected sight, doubting whether he was awake or asleep. The\ncaliph fell a laughing at his astonishment; and calling to him,\nScheich Ibrahim, said he, what dost thou want? whom dost thou look\nafter?\n\nScheich Ibrahim, no longer doubting that it was the caliph,\nimmediately threw himself at his feet, with his face and long beard\nto the ground. Commander of the true believers, cried he, your vile\nslave has offended you; but he implores your clemency, and asks a\nthousand pardons for his offence. As soon as the slaves had made an\nend of dressing him, he came down from his throne, and advancing\ntowards him, Rise, said he; I forgive thee.\n\nThe caliph then addressed himself to the Fair Persian, who had\nsuspended her sorrow as soon as she understood that the garden and\npavilion belonged to that prince, and not to Scheich Ibrahim, as he\nhad all along made her believe, and that it was he himself disguised\nin the fisherman\u2019s clothes. Fair Persian, said he, rise, and\nfollow me: by what you have lately seen, you ought to know who I am,\nand to believe that I am above taking any advantage of the present\nwhich Noureddin, with a generosity not to be paralleled, has made me\nof your person. I have sent him to Balsora to be king there; and\nwhen I have given him the despatches necessary for his\nestablishment, you shall go thither and be queen. In the mean time,\nI am going to order an apartment for you in my palace, where you\nshall be treated according to your desert.\n\nThis discourse encouraged the Fair Persian, and comforted her very\nsensibly. The joy for the advancement of Noureddin, whom she\npassionately loved, to so high an honour, made her sufficient amends\nfor her affliction. The caliph kept his promise, and recommended her\nto the care of his lady Zobeide, whom he acquainted with the esteem\nhe had lately entertained for Noureddin.\n\nNoureddin\u2019s return to Balsora was more fortunate, and speedier by\nsome days, than he could have expected. Upon his arrival, without\nvisiting any of his friends or relations, he went directly to the\npalace, where the king at that time was giving public audience. With\nthe letter held up in his hand, he pressed through the crowd, who\npresently made way for him to come forward and deliver it. The king\ntook and opened it, and his colour changed in reading it: he kissed\nit thrice, and was just about to obey the caliph\u2019s orders, when he\nbethought himself of shewing it to the vizier Saouy, Noureddin\u2019s\nirreconcilable enemy.\n\nSaouy, who had discovered Noureddin, and began to conjecture, with\ngreat uneasiness, what might be the design of his coming, was no\nless surprised than the king at the order contained in the letter;\nand being as much concerned in it, he thought that very moment upon\na way to evade it. He pretended not to have read the letter quite\nthrough, and therefore, desiring a second view of it, he turned\nhimself a little on one side, as if he wanted a better light, and,\nwithout being perceived by any body, dexterously tore off from the\ntop of it the form that showed the caliph would be absolutely\nobeyed, and putting it into his mouth, swallowed it.\n\nAfter this egregious piece of villany, Saouy turned to the king, and\ngiving him the letter, Sir, said he to him, in a low voice, what\ndoes your majesty intend to do? What the caliph has commanded me,\nreplied the king. Have a care, sir, said the wicked vizier, what you\ndo. It is true, this is the caliph\u2019s hand, but the form is not to\nit. The king had observed that very well, but in his confusion, he\nthought his eyes deceived him when he saw it was gone.\n\nSir, continued the vizier, we have no reason to doubt but that the\ncaliph, upon the complaints he has made against your majesty and me,\nhas granted him this letter purely to get rid of him, and not with\nany intention of having the order contained in it executed. Besides,\nwe must consider he has sent no express with a patent; and without\nthat, the order is of no force. And since a king like your majesty\nwas never deposed without that formality, any other man as well as\nNoureddin might come with a forged letter: let who will bring such a\nletter as this, it ought not to be put in execution. --Your majesty\nmay depend upon it, that is never done; and I will take upon myself\nall the consequence of disobeying this order.\n\nKing Zinebi, easily persuaded by this pernicious counsel, left\nNoureddin entirely to the discretion of the vizier Saouy, who led\nhim to his house after a very insulting manner; where, after causing\nhim to be bastinadoed till he was almost dead, he ordered him to a\nprison, where he commanded him to be put in the darkest and deepest\ndungeon, with a strict charge to the gaoler to give him nothing but\nbread and water.\n\nWhen Noureddin, half dead with the strokes, came to himself, and\nfound what a nasty dungeon he was in, he bewailed his misfortunes in\nthe most pathetic manner. --Ah! fisherman, cried he, how hast thou\ncheated me, and how easy have I been in believing thee! Could I,\nafter the civility I showed thee, expect so inhuman and barbarous\nusage? However, may Heaven reward thee; for I cannot persuade myself\nthat thy intention was so base; and I will with patience wait the\nend of my afflictions.\n\nThe poor disconsolate Noureddin remained six whole days in this\nmiserable condition; and Saouy did not forget that he had confined\nhim there: but being resolved to put him to a shameful death, and\nnot daring to do it by his own authority, to accomplish his\nvillanous design, he loaded some of his slaves with rich presents,\nwhich he, at the head of them, went and presented to the king.\nBehold, sire, said he, with the blackest malice, what the new king\nhas sent you upon his accession to the crown, and begs your majesty\nto accept of it.\n\nThe king, taking the matter just as Saouy intended it, What! replied\nhe, is that wretch still living? I thought you had put him to death\nalready. Sire, I have no power, answered the vizier, to take any\nperson\u2019s life away; that only belongs to your majesty. Go, said\nthe king, behead him instantly; I give you full authority. Sire,\nreplied the vizier Saouy, I am infinitely obliged to your majesty\nfor the justice you do me; but since Noureddin has publicly\naffronted me, I humbly beg the favour that his execution may be\nperformed before the palace, and that the criers may publish in\nevery quarter of the city, that every body may be satisfied he has\nmade a sufficient reparation for the affront. The king granted his\nrequest; and the criers, in performing their office, diffused an\nuniversal sorrow through the whole city. The memory of his\nfather\u2019s virtues being yet very fresh among them, no one could\nhear without horror and indignation that the son was going to suffer\nan ignominious death, through the villany and instigation of the\nvizier Saouy.\n\nSaouy went in person to the prison, accompanied with twenty slaves,\nministers of his cruelty, who took Noureddin out of the dungeon, and\nput him upon a shabby horse without a saddle. When Noureddin saw\nhimself in the hands of his enemy, Thou triumphest now, said he, and\nabusest thy power; but I trust in the truth of what is written in\none of our books, \u2018You judge unjustly, and in a little time you\nshall be judged yourself.\u2019 The vizier Saouy, who really triumphed\nin his heart, What, insolent! said he, darest thou insult me yet?\n--but go, I pardon thee, and care not whatever happens to me, so I\nhave the pleasure of seeing thee lose thy head in the public view of\nall Balsora. Thou oughtest also to remember what another of our\nbooks says, \u2018What signifies if one dies the next day after the\ndeath of his enemy?\u2019\n\nThe vizier, still implacable in his hatred and enmity, surrounded by\npart of his slaves in arms, ordered Noureddin to be conducted by the\nother, and went himself towards the palace. The people were ready to\nfall upon him as he went along; and if any body had set the example,\nthey would certainly have stoned him to death. When he had brought\nhim to the place of suffering, which was to be in sight of the\nking\u2019s apartment, he left him in the executioner\u2019s hands, and\nwent straight to the king, who was in his closet, ready to glut his\neyes with the bloody spectacle he had prepared.\n\nThe king\u2019s guard and the vizier\u2019s slaves, which made a circle\nround Noureddin, had much ado to withstand the people, who made all\npossible efforts, but in vain, to break through them, and carry him\noff by force. The executioner coming up to him, Sir, said he, I hope\nyou will forgive me; I am but a slave, and cannot help doing my\nduty. If you have no occasion for any thing more, I beseech you\nprepare yourself; for the king is just going to give me orders to\nstrike the blow.\n\nThe poor unfortunate Noureddin, at that cruel moment, looking round\nupon the people, Will no charitable body, cried he, bring me a\nlittle water to quench my thirst? which immediately they did, and\nhanded it up to him upon the scaffold. The vizier Saouy, perceiving\nthis delay, called out to the executioner from the king\u2019s\ncloset-window, where he had planted himself, Strike! what dost thou\nstay for? At these barbarous and inhuman words the whole place\nechoed with loud imprecations against him; and the king, jealous of\nhis authority, made it appear, by enjoining him to stay awhile, that\nhe was angry at his presumption. But there was another reason; for\nthe king that very moment, casting his eye to a large street that\nfaced him, and joining to the place of execution, saw about the\nmiddle of it a troop of horsemen come gallopping full speed towards\nthe palace. Vizier, said the king immediately, look yonder; what is\nthe meaning of those horsemen? Saouy, who knew not what it might be,\nearnestly pressed the king to give the executioner the sign. No,\nreplied the king; I will first know who those horsemen are. It was\nthe vizier Giafar, with his train, who came in person from Bagdad by\nthe caliph\u2019s order.\n\nTo understand the occasion of this minister\u2019s coming to Balsora,\nwe must observe, that after Noureddin\u2019s departure with the\ncaliph\u2019s letter, the caliph, the next day, nor several days after,\nnever thought of sending him the patent that he mentioned to the\nFair Persian. He happened one day to be in the inner palace, which\nwas that of the women, and passing by the apartment, he heard the\nsound of a fine voice. He listened to it; and he had no sooner heard\nthe words of one complaining for the absence of somebody, than he\nasked the officer of the eunuchs that attended him, who that woman\nwas that belonged to that apartment? The officer told him it was the\nyoung stranger\u2019s slave, whom he had sent to Balsora to be king in\nthe room of Mohammed Zinebi.\n\nAh! poor Noureddin, cried the caliph presently, I had forgot thee:\nbut haste, said he to the officer, and bid Giafar come to me. The\nvizier was with him in an instant. As soon as he came, Giafar, said\nhe, I have hitherto neglected sending the patent to Noureddin, which\nwas to confirm him king of Balsora; but we have no time now to draw\nup one; therefore immediately take post-horses, and, with some of\nyour servants, make what haste you can to Balsora. If Noureddin is no\nlonger alive, but put to death by them, order the vizier Saouy to be\nhanged; but if he is living, bring him to me, with the king and the\nvizier.\n\nThe grand vizier stayed no longer than just to get on horseback; and\nbeing attended by a great train of officers belonging to his house,\nhe set off for Balsora, where he arrived in the manner and at the\ntime already mentioned. As soon as he came to the palace-yard, the\npeople cleared the way for him, crying out, A pardon for Noureddin!\nand with his whole train he rode into the palace, even to the very\nstairs, where he alighted.\n\nThe king of Balsora, knowing him to be the caliph\u2019s chief\nminister, went to meet him, and received him at the entrance of his\napartment. The first question the vizier asked, was, If Noureddin\nwas living? and if he was, that he might be sent for. The king made\nanswer he was alive, and gave orders to have him brought in.\nAccordingly he soon made his appearance as he was, tied and bound\nwith cords. The grand vizier Giafar caused him to be untied, and\nsetting him at liberty, ordered the vizier Saouy to be seized, and\nbound him with the same cords.\n\nThe grand vizier Giafar lay but one night in Balsora; the next day\nhe set out again for Bagdad; and, according to the order he had\nreceived, carried Saouy, the king of Balsora, and Noureddin, along\nwith him. As soon as he came to Bagdad, he presented them all to the\ncaliph: and after he had given him an account of his journey, and\nparticularly the miserable condition he found Noureddin in, and his\nill usage by the advice and malice of Saouy, the caliph desired\nNoureddin to behead the vizier himself. Commander of the true\nbelievers, said Noureddin, notwithstanding the injury this wicked\nman has done me, and the mischief he endeavoured to do my deceased\nfather, I should think myself the basest of mankind, if I were to\nstain my hands with his blood. The caliph was extremely pleased with\nhis generosity, and ordered justice to be done by the\nexecutioner\u2019s hand.\n\nThe caliph would fain have sent Noureddin back to Balsora to have\nbeen king there: but Noureddin humbly begged to be excused from\naccepting of the offer. Commander of the true believers, said\nNoureddin, the city of Balsora, after the misfortunes that have\nhappened to me there, will be so much my aversion, that I beseech\nyour majesty to give me leave to keep the oath that I have made, of\nnever returning thither again; and I shall think it my greatest\nglory to serve near your royal person, if you are pleased to allow\nme the honour. The caliph consented to it; and placing him among the\nnumber of those courtiers who were his greatest favourites restored\nthe Fair Persian to him again. To all these favours he added a\nplentiful fortune; and he and the Fair Persian lived together to\ntheir dying day, with all the happiness they could desire.\n\nAs for the king of Balsora, the caliph contented himself with only\nletting him see how careful he ought to be in the choice of his\nviziers, and so sent him back into his kingdom.\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of Beder, Prince of Persia, and Giahaure, Princess of\nSamandal.\n\n\nPersia is a country of so vast extent, that their ancient monarchs\nhave, not without some colour of reason, assumed the haughty title\nof King of Kings. For, not to mention those subdued by their arms,\nthere are kingdoms and provinces whose kings are not only tributary,\nbut also in as great subjection as governors in other nations are to\nkings.\n\nOne of these kings, who in the beginning of his reign had signalized\nhimself by many glorious and successful conquests, enjoyed so\nprofound a peace and tranquillity, as rendered him the happiest of\nmonarchs. The only thing in which he thought himself unfortunate\nwas, that amongst all his wives, not one of them ever brought him a\nson; and being now far advanced in years, he was desirous of an heir\nto succeed him after his death. However, he had above a hundred\nladies, all lodged in separate apartments, after a magnificent\nmanner, with women-slaves to wait upon, and eunuchs to guard them;\nyet, notwithstanding all his endeavours to please and gratify them\nin every thing, there was not one that answered his expectation. He\nhad women very often brought him from the most remote countries; and\nif they pleased him, he not only gave the merchants their full price\nat first word, but loaded them with honours, favours, and\nbenedictions, in hopes that at last he might be so happy as to meet\nwith one by whom he might have a son. There was scarce any act of\ncharity but what he performed, to prevail with Heaven. He gave\nimmense sums to the poor, besides large donatives to the religious\nof his religion; building for their use many noble colleges richly\nendowed, in hopes of obtaining by their prayers what he so earnestly\ndesired.\n\nOne day, according to the custom of his royal predecessors, during\ntheir residence in their capital city, he held an assembly of his\ncourtiers, at which all the ambassadors and strangers of quality\nabout the court were present; and where they not only entertained\none another with talking of news and politics, but also of the\nsciences, history, poetry, literature, and whatever else was capable\nof diverting the mind after the most agreeable manner. Upon that day\nan eunuch came to acquaint him with the arrival of a certain\nmerchant from a far country, who, having brought a slave along with\nhim, desired leave to show her to his majesty. Give him admittance\ninstantly, said the king, and after the assembly is over I will talk\nwith him. The merchant was introduced, and seated in a convenient\nplace, from whence he might easily have a full view of the king, and\nhear him talk familiarly to those that stood near his person. The\nking observed this rule to all strangers, with a design that by\ndegrees they might grow acquainted with him; so that, when they saw\nwith what freedom and civility he addressed himself to all, they\nmight be encouraged to talk with him in the same manner, without\nbeing the least surprised at the pomp and splendour of his\nappearance, which was enough to deprive those of their power of\nspeech that were not used to it. He treated the ambassadors also\nafter the same manner. He eat with them, and during the repast asked\nthem several questions concerning their health, their journey, and\nthe particularities of their country. After they had been thus\nencouraged, he gave them audience.\n\nWhen the assembly was over, and all the company retired, the\nmerchant, who was the only person left, fell prostrate before the\nking\u2019s throne with his face to the earth, wishing his majesty an\naccomplishment of all his desires. As soon as he rose up, the king\nasked him if the news of his having brought a slave for him was\ntrue, and whether she was handsome.\n\nSire, replied the merchant, I doubt not in the least but your\nmajesty has very beautiful women, since you search every corner of\nthe earth for them; but I may boldly affirm, without overvaluing my\nmerchandise, that you never yet saw a woman that could stand in\ncompetition with her for shape and beauty, agreeable qualifications,\nand all the perfections that she is mistress of. --Where is she?\nsaid the king: bring her to me instantly. --Sire, replied the\nmerchant, I have delivered her into the hands of one of your chief\neunuchs; and your majesty may send for her at your pleasure.\n\nThe fair slave was immediately brought in; and no sooner had the\nking cast his eyes on her, but he was charmed with her beautiful and\neasy shape. He went presently into a closet, whither the merchant,\nwith a few eunuchs, followed him. The fair slave wore a red satin\nveil striped with gold over her face; and when the merchant had\ntaken it off, the king of Persia beheld a lady that surpassed in\nbeauty, not only his present ladies, but all that he ever had\nbefore. He immediately fell passionately in love with her, and bid\nthe merchant name his price.\n\nSire, said he, I gave a thousand pieces of gold to the person of\nwhom I bought her; and in my three years\u2019 journey to your court, I\nreckon I have spent as much; but I shall forbear setting any price\nto so great a monarch; and therefore, if your majesty likes her, I\nhumbly beg you would accept of her as a present. I am highly obliged\nto you, replied the king; but it is never my custom to treat\nmerchants, who come hither purely for my pleasure, after so\nungenerous a manner: I am going to order thee ten thousand pieces of\ngold; will that be sufficient? Sire, answered the merchant, I should\nhave esteemed myself very happy in your majesty\u2019s acceptance of\nher for nothing, yet I dare not refuse so generous an offer. I shall\nnot fail to publish it in my own country, and in every place through\nwhich I pass. The money was presently paid; and before he departed,\nthe king made him put on a rich suit of cloth of gold.\n\nThe king caused the fair slave to be lodged in the finest apartment\nnext his own, and gave particular orders to the matrons, and the\nwomen-slaves appointed to attend her, that after bathing they should\ndress her in the richest habit they could find, and carry her the\nfinest pearl necklaces, the brightest diamonds, and other the\nrichest precious stones, that she might choose those she liked best.\n\nThe officious matrons, whose only care was to please the king, were\nastonished at her beauty; and being well versed therein, they told\nhis majesty, that if he would allow them but three days, they would\nengage to make her so much handsomer than she was at present, that\nhe could scarce know her again. The king could hardly deprive\nhimself of the pleasure of enjoying her so long; but at last he\nconsented, upon condition they would be as good as their word.\n\nThe king of Persia\u2019s capital was situated in an island: and his\npalace, which was very magnificent, was built upon the seashore: his\napartment looked upon that element; and the fair slave\u2019s, which\nwas pretty near it, had also the same prospect, and it was the more\nagreeable, upon the account of the sea\u2019s beating almost against\nthe foot of the wall.\n\nAt the three days\u2019 end, the fair slave, magnificently dressed and\nset off, was alone in her chamber, sitting upon a sofa, and leaning\nagainst one of the windows that faced the sea, when the king, being\ninformed that he might visit her, came in. The slave hearing\nsomebody walk in the room, with an air quite different from that of\nthe women-slaves, who had hitherto attended her, immediately turned\nher head about, to see who it was. She knew him to be the king; but\nwithout discovering the least surprise, or so much as rising from\nher seat to salute or receive him, as if he had been the most\nindifferent person in the world, she put herself in the same posture\nagain.\n\nThe king of Persia was extremely surprised to see a slave of so\nbeauteous a form so very ignorant of the world. He attributed this\nto the narrowness of her education, and the little care that was\ntaken of instructing her in the first rules of civility. He went to\nher at the window, where, notwithstanding the coldness and\nindifference with which she had just now received him, she suffered\nherself to be admired, caressed, and embraced as much as he pleased.\n\nIn the midst of these amorous embraces and tender endearments, this\nmonarch paused awhile, to gaze upon, or rather to devour her with\nhis eyes. My goddess! my angel! my charmer! cried the king; whence\ncame you, and where do those happy parents live that brought into\nthe world so surprising a master-piece of nature as you are? Ah! how\nI love you, and shall always continue to do so. Never did I feel for\na woman what I now feel for you; and though I have seen, and do see\nevery day, a vast number of beauties, yet never did my eyes behold\nso many charms in one single person, which have so transported me\nout of myself, that I shall entirely devote myself to you. My\ndearest life, continued he, you neither answer, nor by any visible\ntoken give me the least reason to believe that you are sensible of\nthe many demonstrations I have given you of the violence of my\npassion; neither will you turn your eyes on me to afford mine the\npleasure of meeting them, and to convince you that it is impossible\nto love more than I do you. Why will you still keep this obstinate\nsilence, which chills me? and whence proceeds the seriousness, or\nrather sorrow, that torments me to the soul? Do you mourn for your\ncountry, your friends, or your relations? Alas! is not the king of\nPersia, who loves and adores you, capable of comforting, and making\nyou amends for the loss of every thing in the world?\n\nWhat protestations of love soever the king of Persia made the fair\nslave, or all he could say to oblige her to speak to him, she\ncontinued her astonishing reserve; and keeping her eyes still fixed\nupon the ground, would neither look at him nor utter a word.\n\nThe king of Persia, charmed with the purchase he had made of a slave\nthat pleased him so well, pressed her no farther, in hopes that by\ntreating her kindly, he might prevail upon her to change her mind.\nHe presently clapped his hands; and the women that waited in an\noutward room entered: he commanded them to bring in supper. When it\nwas on the table, My soul, said he to the slave, come hither and sup\nwith me. She rose from her seat; and being seated over against the\nking, his majesty helped her, before he began eating himself; and so\nhe did of every dish during the whole supper. The slave eat as well\nas the king, but still with downcast eyes, and without speaking a\nword; though he often asked her how she liked the entertainment, and\nwhether it was dressed according to her taste.\n\nThe king, willing to change the discourse, asked her what her name\nwas, how she liked the clothes and the jewels she had on, what she\nthought of her apartment and the rich furniture, and whether the\nprospect of the sea was not very agreeable? but to all these\nquestions she answered not a word; so that the king was at a loss\nwhat to think of her silence. He imagined, at first, that perhaps\nshe might be dumb: but then, said he to himself, can it be possible\nthat Heaven should form a creature so beautiful, so perfect, and so\naccomplished, yet, at the same time, with so great an imperfection?\nWere it however so, I could not love her with a less passion than I\ndo.\n\nWhen the king of Persia rose from the table, he washed his hands on\none side, while the fair slave washed hers on the other. He took\nthat time to ask the women that held the basin and napkin, if ever\nthey had heard her speak. One of them presently made answer, Sire,\nwe have neither seen her open her lips, nor heard her speak any more\nthan your majesty has just now; we have rendered her our services in\nthe bath; we have combed and dressed her head, put on her clothes,\nand waited upon her in her chamber, but she has never opened her\nlips, so much as to say, that is well, or I like this. We have often\nasked her, Madam, do you want any thing? is there any thing you wish\nfor? Do but ask, and command us: but we have never been able to draw\na word from her. We cannot tell whether her silence proceeds from\npride, sorrow, stupidity, or dumbness; and this is all we can inform\nyour majesty of.\n\nThe king of Persia was more astonished at hearing this than he was\nbefore: however, believing the slave might have some cause of\nsorrow, he was willing to endeavour to divert and amuse her.\nAccordingly he made a very splendid assembly, to which all the\nladies of the court came; and those who were skilful in playing upon\nmusical instruments performed their parts, while others sung or\ndanced, or did both together; at last, they played at all sorts of\ngames, which mightily diverted the king. The fair slave was the only\nperson that took no pleasure in these diversions; she never stirred\nout of her place, but kept her eyes fixed on the ground with so much\nindifference, that all the ladies were no less surprised than the\nking. After the assembly was over, every one retired to her\napartment, and the king, who was left alone with the fair slave, lay\nwith her that night.\n\nThe next morning the king of Persia rose more pleased than ever he\nhad been with all his women he had seen before, and more enamoured\nwith the fair slave than he was the day before. Indeed, he soon made\nit appear, by resolving henceforth to attach himself only to her;\nand he performed his resolution. On the very same day he dismissed\nall his other women, giving every one of them their jewels, and\nother valuable things, besides a considerable fortune, with free\nleave to marry whom they thought fit; and only kept the matrons and\na few other elderly women to wait upon the fair slave. However, for\na whole year together, she never afforded him the pleasure of one\nsingle word; yet the king continued his assiduities to please her,\nwith all the complaisance imaginable, and to give her the most\nsignal proofs of a violent passion.\n\nThe year was now expired, when the king, sitting one day by his\nmistress, protested to her that his love, instead of being\ndiminished, grew every day more violent. My queen, said he, I cannot\ndivine what your thoughts are: but nothing is more true, and I swear\nto you, that having the happiness of possessing you, there remains\nnothing for me to desire: I esteem my kingdom, great as it is, less\nthan an atom, when I have the pleasure of beholding you, and of\ntelling you a thousand times, that I adore you. I desire not that my\nwords alone should oblige you to believe me. Surely you can no\nlonger doubt it, after the vast number of women who were in my\npalace, whom I have sacrificed to your beauty. You may remember it\nis about a year since I sent them all away; and I repent of it as\nlittle even now I am talking with you, as I did the first moment of\ntheir departure; and I never shall repent. Nothing would be wanting\nto complete my happiness and crown my joy, would you but speak one\nsingle word to me, by which I might be assured that you thought\nyourself at all obliged to me. But how can you speak to me if you\nare dumb? and alas! I feel too fearful this is the case. How can I\ndoubt, since you still torment me with silence, after a whole\nyear\u2019s entreating you continually to speak to me? If it is\nimpossible for me to obtain of you that consolation, may Heaven at\nleast grant me the blessing of a son by you, to succeed me after my\ndeath. I find myself growing old every day, and I begin already to\nwant one to assist me in bearing the weight of my crown. Still I\ncannot conceal the great desire I have of hearing you speak; for\nsomething within me tells me you are not dumb: and I beseech, I\nconjure you, dear madam, to break through this long silence, and\nspeak but one word to me; and after that I care not how soon I die.\n\nAt this discourse the fair slave, who, according to her usual\ncustom, had hearkened to the king with downcast eyes, and had given\nhim cause to believe not only that she was dumb, but that she had\nnever laughed in her life, began to smile a little. The king of\nPersia perceived it with a surprise that made him break forth into\nan exclamation of joy: and no longer doubting but that she was going\nto speak, he waited for that happy moment with an eagerness and\nattention that cannot easily be expressed.\n\nAt last the fair slave, breaking her long-kept silence, thus\naddressed herself to the king: Sire, said she, I have so many things\nto say to your majesty, that having once broke silence, I know not\nwhere to begin. However, in the first place, I think myself in duty\nbound to thank you for all the favours and honours you have been\npleased to confer upon me, and to implore Heaven to bless and\nprosper you, to prevent the wicked designs of your enemies, and not\nsuffer you to die, after hearing me speak, but to grant you a long\nlife. After this, sire, I cannot give you a greater satisfaction\nthan by acquainting you that I am with child; and I wish, as you do,\nit may be a son. Had it never been my fortune to have been pregnant,\nI was resolved (I beg your majesty to pardon the sincerity of my\nintention) never to have loved you, as well as to have kept an\neternal silence; but now I love you as I ought to do.\n\nThe king of Persia, ravished to hear the fair slave not only speak,\nbut tell him tidings in which he was so nearly concerned, embraced\nher tenderly. Shining light of my eyes, said he, it is impossible\nfor me to receive a greater joy than what you have now given me: you\nhave spoken to me, and you have declared your being with child,\nwhich I did not expect. After these two occasions of joy, I am\ntransported out of myself.\n\nThe king of Persia, in the transport of his joy, said no more to the\nfair slave. He left her, but in such a manner as made her perceive\nhis intention was speedily to return: and being willing that the\noccasion of his joys should be made public, he declared it to his\nofficers, and sent in all haste for the grand vizier. As soon as he\ncame, he ordered him to distribute a thousand pieces of gold among\nthe holy men of his religion, who made vows of poverty; as also\namong the hospitals and the poor, by way of returning thanks to\nHeaven: and his will was obeyed by the direction of that minister.\n\nAfter the king of Persia had given this order, he returned to the\nfair slave again. Madam, said he, pardon me for leaving you so\nabruptly, since you have been the occasion of it; but I hope you\nwill indulge me with some conversation, since I am desirous to know\nof you several things of much greater consequence. Tell me, my\ndearest soul, what were the powerful reasons that induced you to\npersist in that obstinate silence for a whole year together, though\nevery day you saw me, heard me talk to you, eat and drank with me,\nand every night lay with me? I shall pass by your not speaking; but\nhow you could carry yourself so as that I could never discover\nwhether you were sensible of what I said to you or no, I confess,\nsurpasses my understanding; and I cannot yet comprehend how you\ncould contain yourself so long; therefore I must conclude the\noccasion of it to be very extraordinary.\n\nTo satisfy the king of Persia\u2019s curiosity, replied this fair\nperson, think whether or no to be a slave, far from my own country,\nwithout any hopes of ever seeing it again, --to have a heart torn\nwith grief, for being separated for ever from my mother, my brother,\nmy friends, and my acquaintance, --are not these sufficient reasons\nfor my keeping a silence your majesty has thought so strange and\nunaccountable? The love of our native country is as natural to us as\nthat of our parents; and the loss of liberty is insupportable to\nevery one who is not wholly destitute of common sense, and knows how\nto set a value on it. The body indeed may be enslaved, and under the\nsubjection of a master, who has the power and authority in his\nhands; but the will can never be conquered, but remains free and\nunconfined, depending on itself alone, as your majesty has found an\ninstance of it in me: and it is a wonder that I have not followed\nthe example of abundance of unfortunate wretches, whom the loss of\nliberty has reduced to the melancholy resolution of procuring their\nown deaths a thousand ways, by a liberty which cannot be taken from\nthem.\n\nMadam, replied the king, I am convinced of the truth of what you\nsay; but till this moment I was of opinion, that a person beautiful,\nwell-shaped, of good understanding, like yourself, whom her evil\ndestiny had condemned to be a slave, ought to think herself very\nhappy in meeting with a king for her master.\n\nSire, replied the fair slave, whatever the slave is, as I have\nalready observed to your majesty, there is no king on earth can\ntyrannize over her will. But when you speak of a slave mistress of\ncharms enough to captivate a monarch, and induce him to love her; if\nshe is of a rank infinitely below him, I am of your opinion, she\nought to think herself happy in her misfortunes: but what happiness\ncan it be, when she considers herself only as a slave, torn from a\nparent\u2019s arms, and perhaps from those of a lover, her passion for\nwhom death only can extinguish? But when this very slave is in\nnothing inferior to the king that bought her, your majesty shall\nthen judge yourself of the rigour of her destiny, her misery, and\nher sorrow, and to what desperate attempts the anguish of despair\nmay drive her.\n\nThe king of Persia, astonished at this discourse, Madam, said he,\ncan it be possible that you are of royal blood, as by your words you\nseem to intimate? Explain the whole secret to me, I beseech you, and\nno longer augment my impatience. Let me instantly know who are the\nhappy parents of so great a prodigy of beauty; who are your\nbrothers, your sisters, and your relations; but, above all, what\nyour name is.\n\nSire, said the fair slave, my name is Gulnare [89] of the Sea; and\nmy father, who is now dead, was one of the most potent monarchs of\nthe ocean. When he died, he left his kingdom to a brother of mine,\nnamed Saleh, [90] and to the queen my mother, who is also a\nprincess, the daughter of another puissant monarch of the sea. We\nenjoyed a profound peace and tranquillity through the whole Kingdom,\ntill a neighbouring prince, envious of our happiness, invaded our\ndominions with a mighty army; and penetrating as far as our capital,\nmade himself master of it: and we had but just time enough to save\nourselves in an impenetrable and inaccessible place, with a few\ntrusty officers who did not forsake us in our distress.\n\nIn this retreat, my brother was not negligent in contriving all\nmanner of ways to drive the unjust invader from our dominions. One\nday taking me into his closet, Sister, said he, the events of the\nsmallest undertakings are always dubious. As for my own part, I may\nfail in the attempt I design to make to recover my kingdom; and I\nshall be less concerned for my own disgrace, than what may possibly\nhappen to you. To prevent it, and to secure you from all accident, I\nwould fain see you married first: but in the miserable condition of\nour affairs at present, I see no probability of matching you to any\nof the princes of the sea; and therefore I should be very glad if\nyou would concur with my opinion, and think of marrying to some of\nthe princes of the earth. I am ready to contribute all that lies in\nmy power towards it; and I am certain there is not one of them,\nhowever powerful, but, considering the beauty you are mistress of,\nwould be proud of sharing his crown with you.\n\nAt this discourse of my brother\u2019s, I fell into a violent passion.\nBrother, said I, you know that I am descended, as well as you, by\nboth father and mother\u2019s side, from the kings and queens of the\nsea, without any mixture of alliance with those of the earth;\ntherefore I do not design to marry below myself, any more than they\ndid; and I took an oath to that effect as soon as I had\nunderstanding to inquire into the nobleness and antiquity of our\nfamily. The condition to which we are reduced shall never oblige me\nto alter my resolution; and if you perish in the execution of your\ndesign, I am prepared to fall with you, rather than to follow the\nadvice I so little expected from you.\n\nMy brother, who was still earnest for the marriage, however improper\nfor me, endeavoured to make me believe, that there were kings of the\nearth who were nowise inferior to those of the sea. This put me into\na more violent passion, which occasioned him to say several bitter\nreflecting things, that nettled me to the quick. He left me, as much\ndissatisfied with myself as he could possibly be with me; and in\nthis peevish mood I gave a spring from the bottom of the sea, up to\nthe island of the moon.\n\nNotwithstanding the violent discontent that made me cast myself upon\nthat island, I lived content in retirement. But in spite of all my\nprecautions, a person of distinction, attended by his servants,\nsurprised me sleeping, and carried me to his own house. He expressed\nmuch love to me, and omitted nothing which he thought might induce\nme to make a return to his passion. When he saw that fair means\nwould not prevail upon me, he attempted to make use of force; but I\nsoon made him repent of his insolence. So at last he resolved to\nsell me; which he did to that very merchant who brought me hither\nand sold me to your majesty. He was a very prudent, courteous,\nhumane person; and during the whole of the long journey, never gave\nme the least reason to complain.\n\nAs for your majesty, continued the princess Gulnare, if you had not\nshown me all the respect you have hitherto paid, (for which I am\nextremely obliged to your goodness,) and given me such undeniable\nmarks of your affection, that I could no longer doubt of it; if you\nhad not immediately sent away your women, I hesitate not to tell you\nplainly, that I should not have remained with you. I would have\nthrown myself into the sea out of this very window, where you\naccosted me when you first came into this apartment, and I would\nhave gone in search of my mother, my brother, and the rest of my\nrelations. I should have persisted in that design, and I would\ninfallibly have put it in execution, if after a certain time I had\nfound myself deceived in the hopes of being with child; but now, in\nthe condition I am in, all I could say to my mother or brother,\nwould never convince them that I have been a slave to a king like\nyour majesty. They would never believe it, but would for ever\nupbraid me with the crime I have voluntarily committed against my\nhonour. However, sire, be it a prince or princess that I shall bring\ninto the world, it will be a pledge to engage me never to be parted\nfrom your majesty; and therefore I hope you will no longer look upon\nme as a slave, but as a princess worthy your alliance.\n\nAfter this manner the princess Gulnare discovered herself to the\nking of Persia, and finished her story. My charming, my adorable\nprincess, cried he, what wonders have I heard! and what ample matter\nfor my curiosity to ask a thousand questions concerning those\nstrange and unheard-of things which you have related to me! But\nfirst, I ought to thank you for your goodness and patience in making\ntrial of the truth and constancy of my passion. I thought it\nimpossible for me to love you more than I did; but since I know you\nto be so great a princess, I love you a thousand times more.\nPrincess! did I say? Madam, you are no longer so, but you are my\nqueen --the queen of Persia; and by that title you shall soon be\nproclaimed throughout the whole kingdom. To-morrow the ceremony\nshall be performed in my capital, with a pomp and magnificence that\nwas never yet beheld; which will plainly show that you are my queen\nand my lawful wife. This should long ago have been done, had you\nsooner convinced me of my error; for from the first moment of my\nseeing you. I have been of the same opinion as now, to love you\nalways, and never to place my affections on any other.\n\nBut that I may satisfy myself, and pay you all the respect that is\nyour due, I beseech you, madam, to inform me more particularly of\nthe kingdom and people of the sea, which are altogether unknown to\nme. I have heard much talk, indeed, of the inhabitants of the sea,\nbut I always looked upon it as nothing but a tale or fable; but, by\nwhat you have told me, I am convinced there is nothing more true;\nand I have a very good proof of it in your own person, who are one\nof them, and are pleased to condescend to be my wife; which is an\nhonour no other inhabitant on the earth can boast of besides myself.\nThere is one thing yet which puzzles me; therefore I must beg the\nfavour of you to explain it; that is, I cannot comprehend how it is\npossible for you to live or move in the water without being drowned.\nThere are very few amongst us who have the art of staying under\nwater; and they would surely perish, if, after a certain time,\naccording to their activity and strength, they did not come up again.\n\nSire, replied the queen Gulnare, I shall with pleasure satisfy the\nking of Persia. We can walk at the bottom of the sea with as much\nease as you can upon land; and we can breathe in the water as you do\nin the air; so that instead of suffocating us, as it does you, it\nabsolutely contributes to the preservation of our lives. What is yet\nmore remarkable is, that it never wets our clothes; so that when we\nhave a mind to visit the earth, we have no occasion to dry them. Our\ncommon language is the same with that of the writing engraved upon\nthe seal of the great prophet Solomon, the son of David.\n\nI must not forget to tell you further, that the water does not in\nthe least hinder us from seeing in the sea; for we can open our eyes\nwithout any inconvenience; and as we have quick, piercing sight, we\ncan discern any object as clearly in the deepest part of the sea, as\nupon land. We have also there a succession of day and night, the\nmoon affords us her light, and even the planets and the stars appear\nvisible to us. I have already spoken of our kingdoms; but as the sea\nis much more spacious than the earth, so there are a greater number\nof them, and of greater extent. They are divided into provinces; and\nin each province there are several great cities, well peopled. In\nshort, there are an infinite number of nations, differing in manners\nand customs, as well as upon the earth.\n\nThe palaces of the kings and princes are very sumptuous and\nmagnificent. Some of them are of marble of various colours; others\nof rock-crystal, with which the sea abounds, mother-of-pearl, coral,\nand of other materials more valuable; gold, silver, and all sorts of\nprecious stones, are more plentiful there than on earth. I say\nnothing of the pearls, since the largest that ever was seen upon\nearth, would not be valued amongst us; and none but the very lowest\nrank of citizens would wear them.\n\nAs we have a marvellous and incredible agility to transport\nourselves whither we please in the twinkling of an eye, we have no\noccasion for any carriages or riding-horses; not but the king has\nhis stables, and his stud of sea-horses; but they are seldom made\nuse of, except upon public feasts, or rejoicing days. Some, after\nthey have trained them, take delight in riding them, and show their\nskill and dexterity in races; others put them to chariots of\nmother-of-pearl, adorned with an infinite number of shells of all\nsorts, of the liveliest colours. These chariots are open; and in the\nmiddle there is a throne upon which the king sits, and shows himself\nto the public view of his subjects. The horses are trained up to\ndraw by themselves; so that there is no occasion for a charioteer to\nguide them. I pass over a thousand other curious particulars\nrelating to these marine countries, which would be very entertaining\nto your majesty; but you must permit me to defer it to future\nleisure, to speak of something of much greater consequence; which\nis, that the method of delivering, and the way of managing the women\nof the sea in their lying-in, is quite different from those of the\nwomen of the earth; and I am afraid to trust myself in the hands of\nthe midwives of this country: therefore since my safe delivery\nequally concerns us both, with your majesty\u2019s permission, I think\nit proper for greater security, to send for my mother and my\ncousins, to assist at my labour; at the same time to desire the king\nmy brother\u2019s company, to whom I have a great desire to be\nreconciled. They will be very glad to see me again, after I have\nrelated my story to them, and when they understand I am wife to the\nmighty king of Persia. I beseech your majesty to give me leave to\nsend for them: I am sure they will be happy to pay their respects to\nyou; and I venture to say you will be extremely pleased to see them.\n\nMadam, replied the king of Persia, you are mistress; do whatever you\nplease; I will endeavour to receive them with all the honours they\ndeserve. But I would fain know how you would acquaint them with what\nyou desire, and when they will arrive, that I may give orders to\nmake preparation for their reception, and go myself in person to\nmeet them. Sire, replied the queen Gulnare, there is no need of\nthese ceremonies; they will be here in a moment; and if your majesty\nwill but step into the closet, and look through the lattice, you\nshall see the manner of their arrival.\n\nAs soon as the king of Persia was in the closet, queen Gulnare\nordered one of her women to bring her a fire-pan with a little fire.\nAfter that she bid her retire and shut the door. When she was alone,\nshe took a piece of aloes out of a box, and put it into the\nfire-pan. As soon as she saw the smoke rise, she repeated some words\nunknown to the king of Persia, who observed with great attention all\nthat she did. She had no sooner ended, but the sea began to be\ndisturbed. The closet the king was in was so contrived, that looking\nthrough the lattice on the same side with the windows that faced the\nsea, he could plainly perceive it.\n\nAt length the sea opened at some distance; and presently there arose\nout of it a tall, handsome young man, with whiskers of a sea-green\ncolour; a little behind him, a lady, advanced in years, but of a\nmajestic air, attended by five young ladies, nothing inferior in\nbeauty to the queen Gulnare.\n\nQueen Gulnare immediately came to one of the windows, and saw the\nking her brother, the queen her mother, and the rest of her\nrelations, who at the same time perceived her also. The company came\nforward, borne, as it were, upon the surface of the waves. When they\ncame to the edge, they nimbly, one after another, sprung to the\nwindow, from whence the queen Gulnare had retired to make room for\nthem. King Saleh, the queen her mother, and the rest of her\nrelations, embraced her tenderly, with tears in their eyes, on their\nfirst entrance.\n\nAfter queen Gulnare had received them with all imaginable honour,\nand made them sit down upon a sofa, the queen her mother addressed\nherself to her: Daughter, said she, I am overjoyed to see you again\nafter so long an absence; and I am confident that your brother and\nyour relations are no less so. Your leaving us without acquainting\nany body with it, involved us in inexpressible concern; and it is\nimpossible to tell you how many tears we have shed upon that\naccount. We know of no other reason that could induce you to take\nsuch a surprising resolution, but what your brother told us of the\nconversation that passed between him and you. The advice he gave you\nseemed to him at that time very advantageous for settling you\nhandsomely in the world, and very suitable to the then posture of\nour affairs. If you had not approved of his proposal, you ought not\nto have been so much alarmed; and, give me leave to tell you, you\ntook the thing in a quite different light from what you ought to\nhave done. But no more of this discourse; it serves only to renew\nthe occasion of our sorrow and complaint, which we and you ought to\nbury for ever in oblivion: give us now an account of all that has\nhappened to you since we saw you last, and of your present\nsituation; but especially let us know if you are satisfied.\n\nQueen Gulnare immediately threw herself at her mother\u2019s feet; and\nafter rising and kissing her hand, Madam, said she, I own I have\nbeen guilty of a very great fault, and I am indebted to your\ngoodness for the pardon which you are pleased to grant me. What I am\ngoing to say, in obedience to your commands, will soon convince you,\nthat it is very often in vain for us to have an aversion for certain\nmeasures, I have myself experienced, that the only thing I had an\nabhorrence to, is just that to which my destiny has led me. She\nrelated the whole of what had befallen her since she quitted the sea\nin a violent passion for the earth. As soon as she had made an end,\nand had acquainted them with her having been sold to the king of\nPersia, in whose palace she was at present; Sister, said the king\nher brother, you have been very much to blame to suffer so many\nindignities, but you can blame nobody but yourself; you have it in\nyour power now to free yourself; and I cannot but admire your\npatience, that you could endure so long a slavery. Rise, and return\nwith us into my kingdom, that I have reconquered from the proud\nusurper who had made himself master of it.\n\nThe king of Persia, who heard these words from the closet where he\nstood, was in the utmost alarm. Ah! said he to himself. I am ruined;\nand if my queen, my Gulnare, hearkens to this advice, and leaves me,\nI shall surely die; for it is impossible for me to live without her,\nand they want to deprive me of her. Queen Gulnare soon put him out\nof his fears.\n\nBrother, said she smiling, what I have just now heard gives me a\ngreater proof than ever I had of the sincerity of your friendship\nfor me: I could not brook your proposing to me a match with a prince\nof the earth; now I can scarce forbear being angry with you for\nadvising me to break the engagement I have made with the most\npuissant and most renowned monarch in the world. I do not speak here\nof any engagement between a slave and her master; it would be easy\nto return the ten thousand pieces of gold that I cost him; but I\nspeak now of a contract between a wife and a husband, and a wife who\nhas not the least reason to complain. He is a religious, wise, and\ntemperate king, and has given me the most essential demonstrations\nof his love. What can be a greater instance of the violence of his\npassion, than sending away all his women (of which he had a great\nnumber) immediately upon my arrival, and confining himself only to\nme? I am now his wife, and he has lately declared me queen of\nPersia, to share with him in his councils; besides, I am pregnant,\nand if Heaven permits me to give him a son, that will be another\nmotive to engage my affections to him the more.\n\nSo that, brother, continued the queen Gulnare, instead of following\nyour advice, you see I have all the reason in the world, not only to\nlove the king of Persia as passionately as he loves me, but also to\nlive and die with him, more out of gratitude than duty. I hope then\nneither my mother, nor you, nor any of my cousins, will disapprove\nof the resolution or the alliance I have made, which will be an\nequal honour to the kings of the sea and earth. Excuse me for giving\nyou the trouble of coming hither from the bottom of the deep, to\ncommunicate it to you, and for the pleasure of seeing you after so\nlong a separation.\n\nSister, replied king Saleh, the proposal I made you of going back\nwith us into my kingdom, upon the recital of your adventures, (which\nI could not hear without concern,) was only to let you see how much\nwe all love you, and how much I in particular honour you, and that\nnothing in the world is so dear to me as your happiness. Upon the\nsame account then, for my own part, I cannot condemn a resolution so\nreasonable and so worthy of yourself, after what you have told us of\nthe king of Persia, your husband, and the great obligations you have\nto him; and I am persuaded that the queen our mother will be of the\nsame opinion.\n\nThe queen confirmed what her son had just spoken, and addressing\nherself to queen Gulnare, said, I am very glad to hear you are\npleased; and I have nothing else to add to what your brother has\njust said to you. I should have been the first to have condemned\nyou, if you had not expressed all the gratitude you owe to a monarch\nthat loves you so passionately, and has done such great things for\nyou.\n\nAs the king of Persia, who was still in the closet, had been\nextremely concerned for fear of losing his beloved queen, so now he\nwas transported with joy at her resolution never to forsake him; and\nhaving no room to doubt of her love after so open a declaration, he\nbegan to love her more than ever, and resolved to express his\ngratitude in every possible way.\n\nWhile the king was indulging incredible pleasure, queen Gulnare\nclapped her hands, and presently in came some of her slaves, whom\nshe had ordered to bring in a collation; as soon as it was served\nup, she invited the queen her mother, the king her brother, and her\ncousins, to sit down and take part of it. They began to reflect,\nthat without asking leave, they were got into the palace of a mighty\nking, who had never seen nor heard of them, and that it would be a\ngreat piece of rudeness to eat at his table without him. This\nreflection raised a blush in their faces, and in their emotion their\neyes glowing like fire, they breathed flames at their mouths and\nnostrils.\n\nThis unexpected sight put the king of Persia, who was totally\nignorant of the cause of it, into a dreadful consternation. Queen\nGulnare suspecting this, and understanding the intention of her\nrelations, rose from her seat, and told them she would be back in a\nmoment. She went directly to the closet, and by her presence\nrecovered the king of Persia from his surprise. Sir, said she, I\ndoubt not but that your majesty is well pleased with the\nacknowledgment I have lately made of the many favours for which I am\nindebted to you. I might have complied with the wishes of my\nrelations, and gone back with them into their dominions; but I am\nnot capable of such ingratitude, for which I should have been the\nfirst to have condemned myself. Ah! my queen, cried the king of\nPersia, speak no more of your obligations to me; you have none: I am\nunder so great to you, that I shall never be able to repay or\nexpress them. I never thought it possible you could have loved me so\ntenderly as you do, and as you have made appear to me in the most\nexpressive manner. Ah! sir, replied the queen Gulnare, could I do\nless than I have done? I fear I have not done enough, considering\nall the honours that your majesty has heaped upon me; and it is\nimpossible for me to remain insensible of your love, after so many\nconvincing proofs as you have given me.\n\nBut sir, continued queen Gulnare, let us drop this, and give me\nleave to assure you of the sincere friendship that the queen my\nmother, and the king my brother, are pleased to honour you with;\nthey earnestly desire to see you, and tell you so themselves; I\nintended to have some conversation with them by ordering a banquet\nfor them, before I introduced them to your majesty, but they are\nvery impatient to pay their respects to you; and therefore I desire\nyour majesty would be pleased to walk in, and honour them with your\npresence.\n\nMadam, said the king of Persia, I should be very glad to salute\npersons that have the honour to be so nearly related to you, but I\nam afraid of the flames that they breathe at their mouths and\nnostrils. Sir, replied the queen, laughing, you need not in the\nleast be afraid of those flames, which are nothing but a sign of\ntheir unwillingness to eat in your palace, without your honouring\nthem with your presence, and eating with them.\n\nThe king of Persia, encouraged by these words, rose up, and went\ninto the chamber with his queen Gulnare. She presented him to the\nqueen her mother, to the king her brother, and to her other\nrelations, who instantly threw themselves at his feet, with their\nfaces to the ground. The king of Persia ran to them, and lifting\nthem up, embraced them one after another. After they were all\nseated, king Saleh began: Sir, said he to the king of Persia, we are\nat a loss for words to express our joy, to think that the queen my\nsister, in her disgrace, should have the happiness of falling under\nthe protection of so powerful a monarch. We can assure you she is\nnot unworthy of the high rank you have been pleased to raise her to;\nand we have always had so much love and tenderness for her, that we\ncould never think of parting with her to any of the puissant princes\nof the sea, who have often demanded her in marriage before she came\nof age. Heaven has reserved her for you, sir, and we have no better\nway of returning thanks to it for the favour it has done her, than\nbeseeching it to grant your majesty a long and happy life with her,\nand to crown you with prosperity and satisfaction.\n\nCertainly, replied the king of Persia, Heaven reserved her purely\nfor me, as you observe. I love her with so tender and violent a\npassion, that I am satisfied I never loved any woman till I saw her.\nI cannot sufficiently thank either the queen her mother, or you,\nprince, or your whole family, for the generosity with which you have\nconsented to receive me into an alliance so glorious to me as yours.\nSo saying, he invited them to take part of the collation, and he and\nhis queen sat down at the table with them. After the collation was\nover, the king of Persia conversed with them till it was very late;\nand when they thought it convenient to retire, he waited upon them\nhimself to the several apartments he had ordered to be prepared for\nthem.\n\nThe king of Persia treated his illustrious guests with continual\nfeasts; in which he omitted nothing that might show his grandeur and\nmagnificence, and insensibly prevailed with them to stay with him\ntill the queen was brought to bed. When the time of her lying-in\ndrew near, he gave particular orders that nothing should be wanting\nthat was necessary upon such an occasion. At night she was brought\nto bed of a son, to the great joy of the queen her mother, who\nassisted at the labour; and as soon as he was dressed in\nswaddling-clothes, which were very magnificent, went and presented\nhim to the king.\n\nThe king of Persia received this present with a joy easier to be\nimagined than expressed. The young prince being of a beautiful\ncountenance, he thought no name so proper for him as that of\n_Beder_, which in the Arabian language signifies the _Full Moon_. To\nreturn thanks to Heaven, he was very liberal in his alms to the\npoor, and caused the prison doors to be set open, and gave all his\nslaves of both sexes their liberty. He distributed vast sums among\nthe ministers and holy men of his religion. He also gave large\ndonations to his courtiers, besides a great deal that was thrown\namongst the people; and by proclamation ordered rejoicing for\nseveral days to be kept through the whole city.\n\nOne day, after the queen was up again, as the king of Persia, queen\nGulnare herself, the queen her mother, king Saleh, her brother, and\nthe princesses their relations, were discoursing together in her\nmajesty\u2019s bedchamber, the nurse came in with the young prince\nBeder in her arms. King Saleh no sooner saw him, but he ran to\nembrace him; and taking him in his arms, fell to kissing and\ncaressing him with the greatest demonstration of tenderness. He took\nseveral turns with him about the room, dancing and tossing him\nabout, when all of a sudden, through a transport of joy, the window\nbeing open, he sprung out, and plunged with him into the sea.\n\nThe king of Persia, who expected no such sight, set up a hideous\ncry, verily believing he should either see the dear prince his son\nno more, or else that he should see him drowned; he was like to have\ndied of grief and affliction. Sir, said queen Gulnare, (with a quiet\nand undisturbed countenance, the better to comfort him,) let your\nmajesty fear nothing; the young prince is my son as well as yours,\nand I do not love him less than you do. You see I am not alarmed;\nneither in truth ought I to be so. He runs no risk, and you will\nsoon see the king his uncle appear with him again, and bring him\nback safe and sound. Although he was born of your blood, he is\nequally of mine, and will have the same advantage his uncle and I\nhave, of living equally in the sea and upon the land. The queen his\nmother, and the princesses his relations, confirmed the same thing;\nyet all they said had no effect on the king\u2019s fright, from which\nhe could not recover till he saw prince Beder appear again before\nhim.\n\nThe sea at length became troubled, when immediately king Saleh arose\nwith the young prince in his arms, and holding him up in the air, he\nre-entered at the same window he went out at. The king of Persia\nbeing overjoyed to see prince Beder again, and astonished that he\nwas as calm as before he lost sight of him; king Saleh said, Sir,\nwas not your majesty in a great fright, when you first saw me plunge\ninto the sea with the prince my nephew? Alas! prince, answered the\nking of Persia, I cannot express my concern. I thought him lost from\nthat very moment, and you now restore life to me by bringing him\nagain. I thought as much, replied king Saleh, though you had not the\nleast reason to apprehend any danger; for, before I plunged into the\nsea with him, I pronounced over him certain mysterious words which\nwere engraven on the seal of the great Solomon, the son of David. We\npractise the like in relation to all those children that are born in\nthe regions at the bottom of the sea, by virtue whereof they receive\nthe same privileges that we have over those people who inhabit the\nearth. From what your majesty has observed, you may easily see what\nadvantage your son prince Beder has acquired by his birth on the\npart of his mother, queen Gulnare my sister, for as long as he\nlives, and as often as he pleases, he will be at liberty to plunge\ninto the sea, and traverse the vast empires it contains in its bosom.\n\nHaving so spoke, king Saleh, who had restored prince Beder to his\nnurse\u2019s arms, opened a box he had fetched from his palace in the\nlittle time he had disappeared, which was filled with three hundred\ndiamonds, as large as pigeons\u2019 eggs, a like number of rubies of\nextraordinary size, as many emerald wands, each half a foot long,\nand with thirty strings or necklaces of pearl, consisting each of\nten feet. Sir, said he to the king of Persia, presenting him with\nthis box, when I was first summoned by the queen my sister, I knew\nnot what part of the earth she was in, or that she had the honour to\nbe married to so great a monarch. This made us come empty-handed. As\nwe cannot express how much we have been obliged to your majesty, I\nbeg you to accept this small token of gratitude in acknowledgment of\nthe many particular favours you have been pleased to show her,\nwherein we take equal interest.\n\nIt is impossible to express how greatly the king of Persia was\nsurprised at the sight of so much riches, inclosed in so little\ncompass. What! prince, cried he, do you call so inestimable a\npresent a small token of your gratitude, when you never have been\nindebted to me? I declare once more, you have never been in the\nleast obliged to me, neither the queen your mother, nor you. I\nesteem myself but too happy in the consent you have given to the\nalliance I have contracted with you. Madam, continued he, turning to\nGulnare, the king your brother has put me into the greatest\nconfusion; and I would beg of him to permit me to refuse his\npresent, were I not afraid of disobliging him: do you therefore\nendeavour to obtain his leave that I may be excused accepting it.\n\nSir, replied king Saleh, I am not at all surprised that your majesty\nthinks this present so extraordinary. I know you are not accustomed\nupon earth to see precious stones of this quality and quantity; but\nif you knew, as I do, the mines whence these jewels were taken, and\nthat it is in my power to form a treasure greater than those of all\nthe kings of the earth, you would wonder we should have the boldness\nto make you a present of so small a value. I beseech you, therefore,\nnot to regard it in that respect, but on account of the sincere\nfriendship which obliges us to offer it to you, and not give us the\nmortification of refusing it. These engaging expressions obliged the\nking of Persia to accept the present; for which he returned many\nthanks both to king Saleh and the queen his mother.\n\nA few days after, king Saleh gave the king of Persia to understand,\nthat the queen his mother, the princesses his relations, and\nhimself, could have no greater pleasure than to spend their whole\nlives at his court; but that having been so long absent from their\nown kingdom, where their presence was absolutely necessary, he\nbegged of him not to take it ill if they took leave of him and queen\nGulnare. The king of Persia assured them he was very sorry that it\nwas not in his power to return their visit in their own dominions;\nbut added, As I am verily persuaded you will not forget queen\nGulnare, but come and see her now and then, I hope I shall have the\nhonour to see you again more than once.\n\nMany tears were shed on both sides upon their separation. King Saleh\ndeparted first, but the queen his mother, and the princesses his\nrelations, were fain to force themselves, in a manner, from the\nembraces of queen Gulnare, who could not prevail with herself to let\nthem go. This royal company were no sooner out of sight, but the\nking of Persia said to queen Gulnare, Madam, I should have looked\nupon the person that had pretended to pass those upon me for true\nwonders, of which I myself have been eye-witness from the time I\nhave been honoured with your illustrious family at my court, as one\nwho would have abused my credulity. But I cannot refuse to believe\nmy own eyes, and shall remember it as long as I live, and never\ncease to bless heaven for directing you to me, in preference to any\nother prince.\n\nYoung prince Beder was brought up and educated in the palace, under\nthe care of the king and queen of Persia, who both saw him grow and\nincrease in beauty, to their great satisfaction. He gave them yet\ngreater pleasure as he advanced in years, by his continual\nsprightliness, by his agreeable manners, and by the justness and\nvivacity of his wit in whatever he said; and this satisfaction was\nthe more sensible, because king Saleh his uncle, the queen his\ngrandmother, and the princesses his relations, came from time to\ntime to partake of it.\n\nHe was easily taught to read and write, and was instructed with the\nsame facility in all the sciences that became a prince of his rank.\n\nWhen he arrived at the age of fifteen, he acquitted himself in all\nhis exercises with infinitely better address and grace than his\nmasters. He was withal very wise and prudent. The king, who had\nalmost from his cradle discovered in him these virtues, so necessary\nfor a monarch, and who moreover began to perceive the infirmities of\nold age coming upon himself every day, would not stay till death\ngave him possession of his throne, but purposed to resign it to him.\nHe had no great difficulty to make his council consent to it; and\nthe people heard this resolution with so much the more joy, as they\nconceived prince Beder worthy to govern them. In a word, as the king\nhad not for a long time appeared in public, they had all the\nopportunity to observe he had not that disdainful, proud, and\ncrabbed air, which most princes have, who look upon all below them\nwith scorn and contempt. They saw, on the contrary, that he treated\nall mankind with that goodness which invited them to approach him;\nthat he heard favourably all who had any thing to say to him; that\nhe answered every body with a goodness that was peculiar to him; and\nthat he refused nobody any thing that had the least appearance of\njustice.\n\nThe day for the ceremony was appointed; when, in the midst of the\nwhole assembly, which was then more numerous than ordinary, the king\nof Persia then sitting on his throne, came down from it, took the\ncrown from off his head, put it on that of prince Beder, and having\nseated him in his place, kissed his hand, as a token that he\nresigned his authority to him. After which he took his place among\nthe crowd of viziers and emirs below the throne.\n\nHereupon the viziers, emirs, and other principal officers, came\nimmediately and threw themselves at the new king\u2019s feet, taking\neach the oath of fidelity according to their rank. Then the grand\nvizier made a report of divers important matters, on which the young\nking gave judgment with that admirable prudence and sagacity, that\nsurprised all the council. He next turned out several governors\nconvicted of mal-administration, and put others in their room, with\nthat wonderful and just discernment, as exacted the acclamations of\nevery body; which were so much the more honourable, as flattery had\nno share in them. He at length left the council, accompanied by the\nlate king his father, and went to wait on his mother, queen Gulnare,\nat her apartment. The queen no sooner saw him coming with his crown\nupon his head, but she ran to him, and embraced him with a great\ndeal of tenderness, wishing him a long and prosperous reign.\n\nThe first year of his reign king Beder acquitted himself of all his\nroyal functions with great assiduity. Above all, he took care to\ninform himself of the state of his affairs, and all that might in\nany way contribute towards the happiness of his people. Next year,\nhaving left the administration to his council, under the direction\nof the old king his father, he went out of his capital city, under\npretence of diverting himself with hunting; but his real intention\nwas to visit all the provinces of his kingdom, that he might reform\nall abuses there, establish good order and discipline every where,\nand take from all ill-minded princes, his neighbours, any\nopportunities of attempting any thing against the security and\ntranquillity of his subjects, by showing himself on his frontiers.\n\nIt required no less than a whole year for this young king to execute\na design so worthy of him. Soon after his return, the old king his\nfather fell so dangerously ill, that he knew at once he should never\nrecover. He waited for his last moment with great tranquillity, and\nhis only care was to recommend to the ministers, and other lords of\nhis son\u2019s court, to persevere in the fidelity they had sworn to\nhim; and there was not one but willingly renewed his oath as freely\nas at first. He died, at length, to the great grief of king Beder\nand queen Gulnare, who caused his corpse to be borne to a stately\nmausoleum, worthy of his rank and dignity.\n\nThe funeral obsequies ended, king Beder found no difficulty to\ncomply with that ancient custom in Persia to mourn for the dead a\nwhole month, and not to be seen by any body during all that time. He\nhad mourned the death of his father his whole life, had he hearkened\nto his excessive affliction, and had it been right for a great\nprince thus to abandon himself to it. During this interval, the\nqueen, mother to queen Gulnare, and king Saleh, together with the\nprincesses their relations, arrived at the Persian court, and took a\ngreat part of their affliction, before they offered any consolation.\n\nWhen the month was expired, the king could not refuse admittance to\nthe grand vizier and the other lords of his court, who besought him\nto lay aside his mourning, to show himself to his subjects, and take\nupon him the administration of affairs as before.\n\nHe showed so great reluctance to their request, that the grand\nvizier was forced to take upon him to say to him, Sir, it were\nneedless to represent to your majesty, that it belongs only to women\nto persist in perpetual mourning. We doubt not but you are fully\nconvinced of that, and that it is not your intention to follow their\nexample. Neither our tears nor yours are capable of restoring life\nto the good king your father, though we should lament him all our\ndays. He has undergone the common law of all men, which subjects\nthem to pay the indispensable tribute of death. Yet we cannot say\nabsolutely that he is dead, since we see him in your sacred person.\nHe did not himself doubt, when he was dying, but he should revive in\nyou; and to your majesty it belongs to show that he was not deceived.\n\nKing Beder could no longer oppose such pressing instances: he laid\naside his mourning habit immediately; and, after he had resumed the\nroyal habit and ornaments, he began to provide for the necessities\nof his kingdom and subjects with the same assiduity as before his\nfather\u2019s death. He acquitted himself with universal approbation;\nand as he was exact in maintaining the ordinances of his\npredecessor, the people did not perceive they had changed their\nsovereign.\n\nKing Saleh, who was returned to his dominions in the sea with the\nqueen his mother and the princesses, no sooner saw that king Beder\nhad resumed the government, but he, at the end of the year, came\nalone to visit him; and king Beder and queen Gulnare were overjoyed\nto see him. One evening, when they rose from table, they talked of\nvarious matters.\n\nKing Saleh fell insensibly on the praises of the king his nephew,\nand expressed to the queen his sister how glad he was to see him\ngovern so prudently, which had acquired him so great reputation, not\nonly among his neighbours, but more remote princes. King Beder, who\ncould not bear to hear himself so well spoken of, and not being\nwilling, through good manners, to interrupt the king his uncle,\nturned on one side, and feigned to be asleep, leaning his head\nagainst a cushion that was behind him.\n\nFrom these commendations, which regarded only the wonderful conduct\nand surprising genius of king Beder, king Saleh came to speak of the\nperfections of his body, which he extolled as prodigies, having\nnothing equal to them upon earth, or in all the kingdoms under the\nwaters, with which he was acquainted.\n\nSister, said he, in an ecstacy, he is so handsome, as you well know,\nI wonder you have not thought of marrying him ere this: if I mistake\nnot, he is in his twentieth year; and, at that age, no prince like\nhim ought to be suffered to be without a wife. I will think of a\nmatch for him myself, since you will not, and marry him to some\nprincess of our lower world, that may be worthy of him.\n\nBrother, replied queen Gulnare, you call to my remembrance a thing,\nwhich I must own I have never thought of to this very moment. As he\nnever discovered any inclination for marriage, I never thought of\nmentioning it to him; and I am glad you have spoken of it to me. I\nlike your proposing one of our princesses; and I desire you to name\none so beautiful and accomplished, that the king my son may be\nobliged to love her.\n\nI know one that will suit, replied king Saleh, softly; but before I\ntell you who she is, let us see if the king my nephew be asleep or\nnot, and I will tell you afterwards why it is necessary we should\ntake that precaution. Queen Gulnare turned about and looked upon her\nson, and thought she had no reason to doubt but he was in a profound\nsleep. King Beder, nevertheless, far from sleeping, redoubled his\nattention, unwilling to lose any thing the king his uncle said with\nso much secrecy. There is no necessity for your speaking so low,\nsaid the queen to the king her brother; you may speak out with\nfreedom, without fear of being heard.\n\nIt is by no means proper, replied king Saleh, that the king my\nnephew should as yet have any knowledge of what I am going to say.\nLove, you know, sometimes enters at the ear; and it is not necessary\nhe should thus conceive a passion for this lady I am about to name.\nIndeed I see many difficulties to be surmounted, not on the lady\u2019s\npart, as I hope, but on that of her father. --I need only mention to\nyou the princess Giauhara, [91] daughter of the king of Samandal.\n\nHow! brother, replied queen Gulnare, is not the princess Giauhara\nyet married? I remember to have seen her a little before I left your\npalace; she was then about eighteen months old, and surprisingly\nbeautiful, and must needs be the wonder of the world, if her charms\nhave increased equally with her years. The few years she is older\nthan the king my son ought not to prevent us from doing our utmost\nto bring the match about. Let me but know the difficulties that are\nto be surmounted, and we will surmount them.\n\nSister, replied king Saleh, the greatest difficulty is, that the\nking of Samandal is insupportably vain, looking upon all others as\nhis inferiors; it is not likely we shall easily get him to enter\ninto this alliance. For my part, I will go to him in person, and\ndemand of him the princess his daughter; and, in case he refuses\nher, we will address ourselves elsewhere, where we shall be more\nfavourably heard. For this reason, as you may perceive, added he, it\nis as well for the king my nephew not to know any thing of our\ndesign, till we have got the consent of the king of Samandal, lest\nhe should fall in love with the princess Giauhara, and we afterwards\nnot be able to obtain her for him. They discoursed a little longer\nupon this point, and before they parted, agreed that king Saleh\nshould forthwith return to his own dominions, and demand the\nprincess Giauhara of the king of Samandal her father, for the king\nof Persia his nephew.\n\nThis done, queen Gulnare and king Saleh, who verily believed king\nBeder asleep, agreed to awake him before they retired; and he\ndissembled so well, that he seemed to wake from a profound sleep. He\nhad heard every word they said, and the character they gave of the\nprincess Giauhara had inflamed his heart with a new passion. He had\nconceived such an idea of her beauty, that the desire of possessing\nher made him pass the night very uneasy, without closing his eyes.\n\nNext day king Saleh would take leave of queen Gulnare and the king\nhis nephew. The young king, who knew the king his uncle would not\nhave departed so soon but to go and promote without loss of time his\nhappiness, changed colour when he heard him mention his departure.\nHis passion was become so violent, it would not suffer him to wait\nso long time for the sight of his mistress as would be required to\naccomplish the marriage. He more than once resolved to desire his\nuncle to bring her away with him: but as he did not care to let the\nqueen his mother understand he knew any thing of what had passed, he\ndesired him only to stay with him one day more, that they might hunt\ntogether, intending to take an opportunity to discover his mind to\nhim.\n\nThe day for hunting was set, and king Beder had many opportunities\nof being alone with his uncle to declare his mind to him; but he had\nnot the courage to open his mouth to acquaint him with his design.\n\nIn the heat of the chase, when king Saleh was separated from him,\nand not one of his officers and attendants were near him, he\nalighted near a rivulet; and having tied his horse to a tree, which,\nwith several others growing along the banks, afforded a very\npleasing shade, he laid himself down on the grass, and gave free\ncourse to his tears, which flowed in great abundance, accompanied\nwith many sighs. He remained a good while in this condition,\nabsorbed in thought, without speaking a word.\n\nKing Saleh, in the mean time, missing the king his nephew, began to\nbe much concerned to know what was become of him; but could meet no\none who could give any tidings of him. He therefore left his company\nto go in search of him, and at length perceived him at a distance.\nHe had observed the day before, and more plainly that day, that he\nwas not so lively as he used to be; that he was more pensive than\nordinary; and that, if he was asked a question, he either answered\nnot at all, or nothing to the purpose; but he never in the least\nsuspected the cause of all this alteration. As soon as he saw him\nlying in that disconsolate posture, he immediately guessed he had\nnot only heard what passed between him and queen Gulnare, but was\nbecome passionately in love. He hereupon alighted at some distance\nfrom him, and having tied his horse to a tree, took a compass, and\ncame upon him so softly, that he heard him pronounce the following\nwords:\n\nAmiable princess of the kingdom of Samandal, cried he aloud, I have\nno doubt had but an imperfect sketch of your incomparable beauty; I\nhold you to be still more beautiful in preference to all the\nprincesses in the world, and to excel them as much as the sun does\nthe moon and stars. I would this moment go and offer you my heart,\nif I knew where to find you: it belongs to you, and no princess\nshall be possessor of it but you.\n\nKing Saleh would hear no more; he advanced immediately, and\ndiscovered himself to king Beder. From what I see, nephew, said he,\nyou heard what the queen your mother and I said the other day of the\nprincess Giauhara. It was not our intention you should have known\nany thing, and we thought you were asleep. My dear uncle, replied\nking Beder, I heard every word, and have sufficiently experienced\nthe effect you foretold; which it was not in your power to prevent.\nI detained you on purpose to acquaint you with my love before your\ndeparture; but the shame to disclose to you my weakness, if it be\nany to love a princess so worthy of my love, sealed up my mouth. I\nbeseech you, then, by the friendship you profess for a prince who\nhas the honour to be so nearly allied to you, that you would pity\nme, and not wait to procure me the consent of the divine Giauhara,\ntill you have gained the consent of the king of Samandal that I may\nmarry his daughter, unless you had rather see me die with love for\nher, before I have a sight of her.\n\nThese words of the king of Persia greatly embarrassed king Saleh. He\nrepresented to him how difficult it was to give him the satisfaction\nhe desired, and that he could not well do it without carrying him\nalong with him; which might be of dangerous consequence, since his\npresence was so absolutely necessary in his kingdom. He conjured\nhim, therefore, to moderate his passion, till such time as he had\nput things into a train to satisfy him, assuring him he would use\nhis utmost diligence, and would come to acquaint him in a few days.\nBut these reasons were not sufficient to satisfy the king of Persia.\nCruel uncle, said he, I find you do not love me so much as you\npretended, and that you had rather see me die than grant the first\nrequest I ever made you.\n\nI am ready to convince your majesty, replied king Saleh, that I\nwould do any thing to serve you; but as for carrying you along with\nme, I cannot do that till I have spoken to the queen your mother.\nWhat would she say of you and me? If she consents, I am ready to do\nall you would have me, and I will join my entreaties to yours. You\ncannot be ignorant, replied the king of Persia, that the queen my\nmother would never willingly part with me; and therefore, this\nexcuse of yours does but farther convince me of your unkindness. If\nyou do realty love me, as you would have me to believe you do, you\nmust return to your kingdom immediately, and carry me along with you.\n\nKing Saleh, finding himself obliged to yield to his nephew\u2019s\nimportunity, drew from his finger a ring, on which were engraven the\nsame mysterious names of God that were upon Solomon\u2019s seal, that\nhad wrought so many wonders by their virtue. Here, take this ring,\nsaid he, put it upon your finger, and fear neither the waters of the\nsea, nor their depth. The king of Persia took the ring, and when he\nhad put it on his finger, king Saleh said to him, Do as I do. At the\nsame time they both mounted lightly up into the air, and made\ntowards the sea, which was not far distant, whereinto they plunged.\n\nThe sea-king was not long getting to his palace, with the king of\nPersia, whom he immediately carried to the queen\u2019s apartment, and\npresented him to her. The king of Persia kissed the queen his\ngrandmother\u2019s hands, and she embraced him with great\ndemonstrations of joy. I do not ask you how you do, said she to him;\nI see you are very well, and I am rejoiced at it; but I desire to\nknow how my daughter, your mother, queen Gulnare, does? The king of\nPersia took great care not to let her know he came away without\ntaking leave of her; on the contrary, he told her the queen his\nmother was in perfect health, and had enjoined him to pay her duty\nto her. Then the queen presented him to the princesses; and while he\nwas in conversation with them, she left him and went with king Saleh\ninto a closet, who told her how the king of Persia had fallen in\nlove with the princess Giauhara, upon the bare relation of her\nbeauty, and contrary to his intention; that he had brought him along\nwith him, without being able to hinder it; and that he was going to\nconcert measures to procure the princess for him in marriage.\n\nAlthough king Saleh was, to do him justice, perfectly innocent of\nthe king of Persia\u2019s passion, yet the queen could hardly forgive\nhis indiscretion in mentioning the princess Giauhara before him.\nYour imprudence is not to be forgiven, said she to him: can you\nthink that the king of Samandal, whose character is so well known,\nwill have greater consideration for you, than the many kings he has\nrefused his daughter to, with such evident contempt? would you have\nhim send you away with the same confusion?\n\nMadam, replied king Saleh, I have already told you it was contrary\nto my intention that the king my nephew heard what I related of the\nbeauty of the princess Giauhara to the queen my sister. The fault is\ncommitted, and we must consider what a violent passion he has for\nthis princess, and that he will die with grief and affliction, if we\ndo not speedily use every possible means to obtain her for him. For\nmy part, I shall omit nothing that can contribute to it, since I\nwas, though innocently, the cause of the malady; I will therefore do\nall that I can to remedy it. I hope, madam, you will approve of my\nresolution, to go myself and wait upon the king of Samandal, with a\nrich present of precious stones, and demand the princess his\ndaughter of him for the king of Persia your grandson. I have some\nreason to believe he will not refuse me, but will be pleased at an\nalliance with one of the greatest potentates of the earth.\n\nIt were to have been wished, replied the queen, that we had not been\nunder a necessity of making this demand, since the success of our\nattempt is not so certain as we could desire; but since my\ngrandson\u2019s peace and content depend upon it, I freely give my\nconsent to it. But, above all, I charge you, since you well know the\nhumour of the king of Samandal, that you take care to speak to him\nwith due respect and in a manner that cannot possibly offend him.\n\nThe queen prepared the present herself, composing it of diamonds,\nrubies, emeralds, and strings of pearls; all which she put into a\nvery neat and very rich box. Next morning king Saleh took leave of\nher majesty and the king of Persia, and departed with a chosen and\nsmall troop of officers, and other attendants. He soon arrived at\nthe kingdom and the palace of the king of Samandal, who delayed not\nto give him audience immediately upon his arrival. He rose from his\nthrone as soon as he perceived him; and king Saleh, forgetting his\ncharacter for some moments, knowing whom he had to deal with,\nprostrated himself at his feet, wishing him the accomplishment of\nall his desires. The king of Samandal immediately stooped to take\nhim up, and after he had placed him by him on his left hand, he told\nhim he was welcome, and asked him if there was any thing he could do\nto serve him.\n\nSir, answered king Saleh, though I should have no other motive than\nthat of paying my respects to the most potent, most prudent, and\nmost valiant prince in the world, feeble would be my expressions how\nmuch I honour your majesty. Could you penetrate into my inmost soul,\nyou would be convinced of the great veneration I have for you, and\nthe ardent desire to testify my attachment. Having spoke these\nwords, he took the box of jewels from one of his servants, and\nhaving opened it, presented it to the king, imploring him to accept\nof it for his sake.\n\nPrince, replied the king of Samandal, you would not make me such a\npresent without you had a request proportionable to it to propose.\nIf there be any thing in my power, you may freely command it, and I\nshall feel the greatest pleasure in granting it. Speak, and tell me\nfrankly wherein I can serve you.\n\nI must own ingenuously, replied king Saleh, I have a boon to ask of\nyour majesty; and I shall take care to ask nothing but what is in\nyour power to grant. The thing depends so absolutely on yourself,\nthat it would be to no purpose to ask it of any other. I ask it then\nwith all possible earnestness, and I beg of you not to refuse it me.\nIf it be so, replied the king of Samandal, you have nothing to do\nbut acquaint me what it is, and you shall see after what manner I\ncan oblige when it is in my power.\n\nSir, said king Saleh, after the confidence your majesty has been\npleased to encourage me to put in your good-will, I will not\ndissemble any longer, that I came to beg of you to honour our house\nwith your alliance by the marriage of your honourable daughter the\nprincess Giauhara, and to strengthen the good understanding that has\nso long subsisted between our two crowns.\n\nAt these words the king of Samandal burst out a laughing, falling\nback in his throne against a cushion that supported him, and with an\nimperious and scornful air, said to king Saleh, King Saleh, I have\nalways hitherto thought you a prince of great sense, wisdom, and\nprudence; but what you say convinces me how much I was mistaken.\nTell me, I beseech you, where was your wit or discretion, when you\nformed to yourself so great a chimera as you have but now proposed\nto me? Could you conceive a thought only of aspiring in marriage to\na princess, the daughter of so great and powerful a king as I am?\nYou ought to have considered better beforehand the great distance\nbetween us, and not run the risk of losing in a moment the esteem I\nalways had for your person.\n\nKing Saleh was extremely nettled at this affronting answer, and had\nmuch ado to restrain his resentment; however, he replied with all\npossible moderation, God reward your majesty as you deserve! I have\nthe honour to inform you, I do not demand the princess your daughter\nin marriage for myself: had I done so, your majesty and the princess\nought to have been so far from being offended, that you should have\nthought it an honour done to both. Your majesty well knows I am one\nof the kings of the sea as well as yourself; that the kings my\nancestors yield not in antiquity to any other royal families; and\nthat the kingdom I inherit from them is no less potent and\nflourishing than it has ever been. If your majesty had not\ninterrupted me, you had soon understood that the favour I ask of you\nwas not for myself, but for the young king of Persia my nephew,\nwhose power and grandeur, no less than his personal good qualities,\ncannot be unknown to you. Every body acknowledges the princess\nGiauhara to be the most beautiful person under heaven: but it is no\nless true, that the young king of Persia my nephew, is the best made\nand most accomplished prince on the land. Thus the favour that is\nasked being likely to redound both to the honour of your majesty and\nthe princess your daughter, you ought not to doubt that your consent\nto an alliance so equal will be unanimously approved in all the\nkingdoms of the sea. The princess is worthy of the king of Persia,\nand the king of Persia is no less worthy of her. No king or prince\nin the world can dispute her with him.\n\nThe king of Samandal had not let king Saleh go on so long after this\nrate, had not the rage he put him in deprived him of all power of\nspeech. He was some time longer before he could find his tongue, so\nmuch was he transported with passion. At length, however, he broke\nout into outrageous and injurious expressions, unworthy of a great\nking. Dog! cried he, dare you talk to me after this manner, and so\nmuch as mention my daughter\u2019s name in my presence? Can you think\nthe son of your sister Gulnare worthy to come in competition with my\ndaughter? Who are you? Who was your father? Who is your sister? And\nwho your nephew? Was not his father a dog, and a son of a dog, like\nyou? Guards, seize the insolent wretch, and cut off his head!\n\nThe few officers that were about the king of Samandal were\nimmediately going to obey his orders, when king Saleh, who was in\nthe flower of his age, nimble and vigorous, got from them, before\nthey could draw their sabres; and having reached the palace-gate, he\nthere found a thousand men of his relations and friends, well armed\nand equipped, who were just arrived. The queen his mother having\nconsidered the small number of attendants he took with him, and\nmoreover foreseeing the bad reception he would probably have from\nthe king of Samandal, had sent these troops to protect and defend\nhim in case of danger, ordering them to make haste. Those of his\nrelations who were at the head of this troop had reason to rejoice\nat their seasonable arrival, when they beheld him and his attendants\ncome running in great disorder, and pursued. Sire, cried his\nfriends, the moment he joined them, what is the matter? We are ready\nto revenge you: you need only command us.\n\nKing Saleh related his case to them in as few words as he could, and\nputting himself at the head of a large troop, he, while some seized\non the gates, re-entered the palace as before. The few officers and\nguards who had pursued him, being soon dispersed, he re-entered the\nking of Samandal\u2019s apartment, who, being abandoned by his\nattendants, was soon seized. King Saleh left sufficient guards to\nsecure his person, and then went from apartment to apartment, to\nsearch after the princess Giauhara. But that princess, on the first\nalarm, had, together with her women, sprung up to the surface of the\nsea, and escaped to the desert island.\n\nWhile this passed in the palace of the king of Samandal, those of\nking Saleh\u2019s attendants who had fled at the first menaces of that\nking, put the queen mother into terrible consternation, upon\nrelating the danger her son was in. King Beder, who was by at that\ntime, was the more concerned, in that he looked upon himself as the\nprincipal author of all the mischief that might ensue: therefore,\nnot caring to abide the queen\u2019s presence any longer, he, while she\nwas giving the orders necessary at that conjuncture, darted up from\nthe bottom of the sea; and, not knowing how to find his way to the\nkingdom of Persia, he happened to light on the same island where the\nprincess Giauhara had saved herself.\n\nThe prince, not a little disturbed in mind, went and seated himself\nunder the shade of a large tree, surrounded with divers others.\nWhilst he was endeavouring to recover himself, he heard somebody\ntalking, but was too far off to understand what was said. He arose,\nand advanced softly towards the place whence the sound came, where,\namong the branches, he perceived a beauty that dazzled him.\nDoubtless, said he, within himself, stopping and considering her\nwith great attention, this must be the princess Giauhara, whom fear\nhas obliged to abandon her father\u2019s palace; or, if it be not, she\nno less deserves my hearty love. This said, he came forward, and\ndiscovering himself approached the princess with profound reverence.\nMadam, said he, I can never sufficiently thank Heaven for the favour\nit has done me in presenting to my eyes this day so much beauty. A\ngreater happiness could not have befallen me, than this opportunity\nto offer you my most humble services. I beseech you, therefore,\nmadam, to accept them, it being impossible that a lady in this\nsolitude should not want assistance.\n\nTrue, my lord, replied Giauhara very sorrowfully; it is not a little\nextraordinary for a lady of my quality to be in this situation. I am\na princess, daughter of the king of Samandal, and my name is\nGiauhara. I was at ease in my father\u2019s palace, and my apartment,\nwhen all of a sudden I heard a dreadful noise: news was immediately\nbrought me, that king Saleh, I know not for what reason, had forced\nthe palace, seized the king my father, and murdered all the guards\nthat made any resistance. I had only time to save myself, and escape\nhither from his violence.\n\nAt these words of the princess, king Beder began to be concerned\nthat he had quitted his grandmother so hastily, without staying to\nhear from her an explanation of the news that had been brought her.\nBut he was on the other hand, overjoyed to find that the king his\nuncle had rendered himself master of the king of Samandal\u2019s\nperson, not doubting but he would consent to give up the princess\nfor his liberty. Adorable princess, continued he, your concern is\nmost just, but it is easy to put an end both to that and your\nfather\u2019s captivity. You will agree with me, when I shall tell you\nthat I am Beder king of Persia, and king Saleh is my uncle: I assure\nyou, madam, he has no design to seize upon the king your father\u2019s\ndominions; his only intent is to obtain of him that I may have the\nhonour and happiness of being his son-in-law. I had already given my\nheart to you, upon the bare relation of your beauty and charms; and\nnow, far from repenting of what I have done, I beg of you to accept\nit, and to be assured that I will love you as long as I live. I dare\nflatter myself you will not refuse this favour, but be ready to\nacknowledge that a king, that quitted his dominions purely on your\naccount, deserves some acknowledgment. Permit me, then, beauteous\nprincess, to have the honour to go and present you to the king my\nuncle; and the king your father shall no sooner have consented to\nour marriage, but king Saleh will leave him sovereign of his\ndominions as before.\n\nThis declaration of king Beder did not produce the effect he\nexpected. It is true, the princess no sooner saw him, than his\nperson and air, and the good grace wherewith he accosted her, led\nher to look on him as one who would not have been disagreeable to\nher; but when she heard from his own mouth that he had been the\noccasion of the ill treatment her father had suffered, of the grief\nand fright she had endured, and especially the necessity she was\nreduced to of flying her country; she looked upon him as an enemy\nwith whom she ought to have no manner of converse. Whatever\ninclination she might have to consent to this marriage, which he\ndesired, she determined never to yield to it, in consideration that\none of the reasons that her father might have had against this match\nmight be, that king Beder was son of a king of the earth; and\ntherefore she resolved to submit entirely to his will in that\nparticular.\n\nShe would not, however, let king Beder know her resentment, and only\nsought an occasion to deliver herself dexterously out of his hands;\nand seeming in the mean time to have a great kindness for him: Are\nyou then, sir, said she, with all possible civility, son of the\nqueen Gulnare, so famous for her wit and beauty? I am glad of it,\nand rejoice that you are the son of so worthy a mother. The king my\nfather was much in the wrong so strongly to oppose our union: he\ncould not have seen you, but he must have consented to make us both\nhappy. Saying so, she reached forth her hand to him as a token of\nfriendship.\n\nKing Beder, believing himself arrived at the very pinnacle of\nhappiness, held forth his hand and taking that of the princess,\nstooped down to kiss it, when she, pushing him back, and spitting in\nhis face for want of water to throw at him, said, \u2018Wretch, quit\nthat form of a man, and take that of a white bird, with a red bill\nand feet.\u2019 Upon her pronouncing these words, king Beder was\nimmediately changed into a bird of that sort, to his great surprise\nand mortification. Take him, said she, to one of her women, and\ncarry him to the Dry Island. This island was only one frightful\nrock, where there was not a drop of water to be had.\n\nThe waiting-woman took the bird, and in executing her princess\u2019s\norders, had compassion on king Beder\u2019s destiny. It would be great\npity, said she to herself, to let a prince, so worthy to live, die\nof hunger and thirst. The princess, so good and gentle, will, it may\nbe, repent of this cruel order when she comes to herself: it were\nbetter that I carried him to a place where he may die a natural\ndeath. She accordingly carried him to a well-frequented island, and\nleft him in a charming plain, planted with all sorts of fruit-trees,\nand watered by divers rivulets.\n\nLet us return to king Saleh. After he had sought a good while for\nthe princess Giauhara, and ordered others to seek for her to no\npurpose, he caused the king of Samandal to be shut up in his own\npalace, under a strong guard; and having given the necessary orders\nfor governing the kingdom in his absence, he returned to give the\nqueen his mother an account of what he had done. The first thing he\nasked upon his arrival was, Where the king his nephew was? and he\nlearned with great surprise and vexation that he had disappeared.\nNews being brought me, said the queen, of the danger you was in at\nthe palace of the king of Samandal, whilst I was giving orders to\nsend you other troops to avenge you, he disappeared. He must have\nbeen frightened at hearing of your being in so great danger, and did\nnot think himself in sufficient security with us.\n\nThis news exceedingly afflicted king Saleh, who now repented of his\nbeing so easily wrought upon by king Beder as to carry him away with\nhim without his mother\u2019s consent. He sent every where after him,\nbut whatever diligence was used, he could hear no tidings of him;\nand instead of the joy he conceived at having carried on so far the\nmarriage, which he looked upon as his own work, his grief for this\naccident was more mortifying. Whilst he was under this suspense\nabout his nephew, he left his kingdom under the administration of\nhis mother, and went to govern that of the king of Samandal, whom he\ncontinued to keep with great vigilance, though with all due respect\nto his character.\n\nThe same day that king Saleh returned to the kingdom of Samandal,\nqueen Gulnara, mother to king Beder, arrived at the court of the\nqueen her mother. The princess was not at all surprised to find her\nson did not return the same day he set out; it being not uncommon\nfor him to go farther than he proposed in the heat of the chase; but\nwhen she saw he neither returned the next day, nor the day after,\nshe began to be alarmed, as may easily be imagined from her\naffection for him. This alarm was augmented, when the officers, who\nhad accompanied the king, and were obliged to return after they had\nfor a long time sought in vain both for him and his uncle, came and\ntold her majesty they must of necessity have come to some harm, or\nmust be together in some place which they could not guess, since,\nwhatever diligence they had used, they could hear no tidings of\nthem. Their horses indeed they had found, but as for their persons,\nthey knew not where to look for them. The queen, hearing this, had\nresolved to dissemble and conceal her affliction, bidding the\nofficers to search once more with their utmost diligence; but in the\nmean time, saying nothing to any body, she plunged into the sea, to\nsatisfy herself as to the suspicion she had that king Saleh must\nhave carried away his nephew along with him.\n\nThis great queen would have been more affectionately received by the\nqueen her mother, had she not, upon first sight of her, guessed the\noccasion of her coming. Daughter, said she, I plainly perceive you\nare not come hither to visit me; you come to inquire after the king\nyour son; and the only news I can tell you will augment both your\ngrief and mine. I no sooner saw him arrive in our territories, but I\nrejoiced; yet, when I came to understand he had come away without\nyour knowledge, I began to participate with you in the concern you\nmust needs suffer. Then she related to her with what zeal king Saleh\nwent to demand the princess Giauhara in marriage for king Beder, and\nwhat happened upon it, till her son disappeared. I have sent\ndiligently after him, added she, and the king my son, who is but\njust gone to govern the kingdom of Samandal, has done all that lay\nin his power. All our endeavours have hitherto proved unsuccessful,\nbut we must hope nevertheless to see him again, perhaps when we\nleast expect it.\n\nQueen Gulnare was not satisfied with this hope: she looked upon the\nking her dear son as lost, and she lamented him bitterly, laying all\nthe blame upon the king his uncle. The queen her mother made her\nconsider the necessity of her not yielding too much to her grief.\nThe king your brother, said she, ought not, it is true, to have\ntalked to you so inconsiderately about that marriage, nor ever have\nconsented to carry away the king my grandson, without acquainting\nyou before; yet since it is not certain that the king of Persia is\nabsolutely lost you ought to neglect nothing to preserve his kingdom\nfor him: lose, then, no more time, but return to your capital; your\npresence there will be necessary, and it will not be hard for you to\npreserve the public peace, by causing it to be published that the\nking of Persia was gone to visit his grandmother.\n\nThis was sufficient to oblige queen Gulnare to yield to it. She took\nleave of the queen her mother, and got back to the palace of the\ncapital of Persia before she had been missed. She despatched\nimmediately persons to recall the officers she had sent after the\nking, and to tell them she knew where his majesty was, and that they\nshould soon see him again. She also caused the same report to be\nspread throughout the city; and governed, in concert with the prime\nminister and council, with the same tranquillity as if the king had\nbeen present.\n\nTo return to king Beder, whom the princess Giauhara\u2019s\nwaiting-woman had taken and left in the island before mentioned;\nthat monarch was not a little surprised when he found himself alone,\nand under the form of a bird. He esteemed himself yet more unhappy,\nin that he knew not where he was, nor in what part of the world the\nkingdom of Persia lay. But if he had known, and sufficiently knew\nthe force of his wings, to hazard the traversing so extensive watery\nregions, and had reached it, what could he have gained, but the\nmortification to continue still in the same ill plight, not to be\naccounted so much as a man, in lieu of being acknowledged for king\nof Persia. He was forced to remain where he was, and live upon such\nfood as birds of his kind were wont to have, and to pass the night\non a tree.\n\nA few days after, a peasant that was skilled in taking birds with\nnets chanced to come to the place where he was; when perceiving so\nfine a bird, the like of which he had never seen, though he had\nfollowed that sport for a long while, he began greatly to rejoice.\nHe employed all his art to become master of him; and at length\nsucceeded and took him. Overjoyed at so great a prize, which he\nlooked upon to be of more worth than all the other birds he commonly\ntook, by reason of its being so great a rarity, he shut it up in a\ncage, and carried it to the city. As soon as he was come into the\nmarket, a citizen stopt him, and asked him how much he would have\nfor that bird.\n\nInstead of answering, the peasant demanded of the citizen, what he\nwould do with him in case he should buy him? What wouldst thou have\nme to do with him, answered the citizen, but roast and eat him? If\nthat be the case, replied the peasant, I suppose you would think me\nvery well paid, if you should give me the smallest piece of silver\nfor him. I set a much higher value upon him, and you should not have\nhim for a piece of gold. Although I am advanced in years, I never\nsaw such a bird in my life. I intend to make a present of him to the\nking; he will know the value of him better than you.\n\nWithout staying any longer in the market the peasant went directly\nto the palace, and placed himself exactly before the king\u2019s\napartment. His majesty being at a window where he could see all that\npassed in the court, no sooner cast his eyes on this beautiful bird,\nthan he sent an officer of his eunuchs to buy it for him. The\nofficer going to the peasant, demanded of him how much he would have\nfor that bird? If it is for his majesty, answered the peasant, I\nhumbly beg of him to accept it of me as a present and I desire you\nto carry it to him. The officer took the bird to the king, who found\nit so great a rarity, that he ordered the same officer to take ten\npieces of gold, and carry them to the peasant, who departed very\nwell satisfied. The king ordered the bird to be put into a\nmagnificent cage, and gave it corn and water in rich vessels.\n\nHis majesty being then ready to mount on horseback to go a hunting,\nhad not time to consider the bird, therefore had it brought to him\nas soon as he came back. The officer brought the cage, and the king,\nthat he might the better view the bird, took it out himself, and\nperched it upon his hand. Looking earnestly upon it, he demanded of\nthe officer, if he had seen it eat. Sir, replied the officer, your\nmajesty may observe the vessel with his food is still full, and I\nhave not observed that he has touched any of it. Then the king\nordered him meat of divers sorts, that he might take what he liked\nbest.\n\nThe table being spread, and dinner served up just as the king had\ngiven these orders, as soon as the plates were placed, the bird\nclapping his wings, leaped off the king\u2019s hand, flew upon the\ntable, where he began to peck the bread and victuals, sometimes on\none plate, and sometimes on another. The king was so surprised, that\nhe immediately sent the officer of the eunuchs to desire the queen\nto come and see this wonder. The officer related it to her majesty,\nand she came forthwith: but she no sooner saw the bird, than she\ncovered her face with her veil, and would have retired. The king,\nsurprised at her proceeding, as there were none present in the\nchamber but the eunuchs and the women that followed her, asked the\nreason of it.\n\nSir, answered the queen, your majesty will no longer be surprised,\nwhen you understand this bird is not, as you take it, a bird, but a\nman. Madam, said the king, more astonished than before, you mean to\nbanter me; but you shall never persuade me that a bird can be a man.\nSir, replied the queen, far be it from me to banter your majesty;\nnothing is more certain than what I have had the honour to tell you.\nI can assure your majesty, it is the king of Persia, named Beder,\nson of the celebrated Gulnare, princess of one of the largest\nkingdoms of the sea, nephew of Saleh, king of that kingdom, and\ngrandson of queen Farasche, mother of Gulnare and Saleh: and it was\nthe princess Giauhara, daughter of the king of Samandal, who thus\nmetamorphosed him into a bird. That the king might no longer doubt\nof what she affirmed, she told him the whole story, how and for what\nreason the princess Giauhara had thus revenged herself for the ill\ntreatment which king Saleh had used towards the king of Samandal her\nfather.\n\nThe king had the less difficulty to believe this assertion of the\nqueen, in that he knew her to be a skilful magician, one of the\ngreatest in the world. And as she knew every thing which passed in\nit, he was always by her means timely informed of the designs of the\nkings his neighbours against him, and prevented them. His majesty\nhad compassion on the king of Persia, and earnestly besought his\nqueen to break the enchantment, that he might return to his own form.\n\nThe queen consented to it with great willingness. Sir, said she to\nthe king, be pleased to take the bird into your closet, and I will\nshow you a king worthy of the consideration you have for him. The\nbird, which had ceased eating, and attended to what the king and\nqueen said, would not give his majesty the trouble to take him, but\nhopped into the closet before him; and the queen came in soon after,\nwith a vessel full of water in her hand. She pronounced over the\nvessel some words unknown to the king, till the water began to boil;\nwhen she took some of it in her hand, and sprinkling a little upon\nthe bird, said, \u2018By virtue of these holy and mysterious words I\nhave just pronounced, and in the name of the Creator of heaven and\nearth, who raises the dead, and supports the universe, quit that\nform of a bird, and re-assume that which thou hast received from thy\nCreator.\u2019\n\nThe words were scarce out of the queen\u2019s mouth, but, instead of a\nbird, the king saw a young prince of good shape, air, and mien. King\nBeder immediately fell upon his knees, and thanked God for the\nfavour that had been bestowed upon him. Then he took the king\u2019s\nhand, who helped him up, and kissed it in token of gratitude; but\nthe king embraced him with great joy, and testified to him the\nsatisfaction he had to see him. He would then have made his\nacknowledgments to the queen, but she was already retired to her\napartment. The king made him sit at the table with him, and after\ndinner was over, he prayed him to relate to him how the princess\nGiauhara could have the inhumanity to transform into a bird so\namiable a prince as he was; and the king of Persia immediately\nsatisfied him. When he had done, the king, provoked at the\nproceeding of the princess, could not help blaming her. It was\ncommendable, said he, in the princess of Samandal not to be\ninsensible of the king her father\u2019s ill treatment; but to carry\nher vengeance so far, and especially against a prince who was not\nculpable, was what she could never be able to justify herself for.\nBut let us have done with this discourse, and tell me, I beseech\nyou, in what I can farther serve you.\n\nSir, answered king Beder, my obligation to your majesty is so great,\nthat I ought to remain with you all my life to testify my gratitude;\nbut since your majesty sets no limits to your generosity, I entreat\nyou to grant me one of your ships to transport me to Persia; where I\nfear my absence, which has been but too long, may have occasioned\nsome disorder, and that the queen my mother, from whom I concealed\nmy departure, may be dead of grief, under the uncertainty whether I\nam alive or dead.\n\nThe king granted what he desired with the best grace imaginable, and\nimmediately gave orders for equipping one of his largest ships, and\nthe best sailer in his numerous fleet. The ship was soon furnished\nwith all its complement of men, provisions, and ammunition; and as\nsoon as the wind became fair, King Beder embarked, after having\ntaken leave of the king, and thanked him for all his favours.\n\nThe ship sailed before the wind for ten days together, which made it\nadvance considerably without interruption: the eleventh day the wind\nchanged, and, becoming very violent, there followed a furious\ntempest. The ship was not only driven out of its course, but so\nviolently tossed, that all its masts were brought by the board; and\ndriving along at the pleasure of the wind, it at length struck\nagainst a rock and bulged.\n\nThe greatest part of the people were instantly drowned. Some few\nwere saved by swimming, and others by getting on pieces of the\nwreck. King Beder was among the latter, when after having been\ntossed about for some time by the waves and currents, under great\nuncertainty of his fate, he at length perceived himself near the\nshore, and not far from a city that seemed large. He exerted his\nremaining strength to reach the land, and was at length so fortunate\nto come so near as to be able to touch the ground with his feet. He\nimmediately abandoned his piece of wood, which had been of so great\nservice to him; but when he came pretty near the shore, he was\ngreatly surprised to see horses, camels, mules, asses, oxen, cows,\nbulls, and other animals crowding to the shore, and putting\nthemselves in a posture to oppose his landing. He had the utmost\ndifficulty to conquer their obstinacy and force his way; but at\nlength he succeeded, and sheltered himself among the rocks till he\nhad recovered his breath, and dried his clothes in the sun.\n\nWhen the prince advanced to enter the city, he met with the same\nopposition from these animals, who seemed to intend to make him\nforego his design, and give him to understand it was dangerous to\nproceed.\n\nKing Beder, however, got into the city soon after, and saw many fair\nand spacious streets, but was surprised to find no man there. This\nmade him think it was not without cause that so many animals had\nopposed his passage. Going forward, nevertheless, he observed divers\nshops open; which gave him reason to believe the place was not so\ndestitute of inhabitants as he imagined. He approached one of these\nshops, where several sorts of fruits were exposed to sale, and\nsaluted very courteously an old man that was sitting there.\n\nThe old man, who was busy about something, lifted up his head, and\nseeing a youth who had an appearance of grandeur in his air,\nstarted, and asked him whence he came, and what business had brought\nhim there. King Beder satisfied him in a few words; and the old man\nfurther asked him if he had met any body on the road. You are the\nfirst person I have seen, answered the king; and I cannot comprehend\nhow so fine and large a city comes to be without inhabitants. Come\nin, sir; stay no longer upon the threshold, replied the old man, or\nperadventure some misfortune may happen to you. I will satisfy your\ncuriosity at leisure, and give you a reason why it is necessary you\nshould take this precaution.\n\nKing Beder would not be bid twice: he entered the shop, and sat down\nby the old man. The latter, who had learnt from him an account of\nhis misfortunes, knew he must want nourishment, therefore\nimmediately presented him what was necessary to recover his\nstrength; and although king Beder was very earnest to know why he\nhad taken the precaution to make him enter the shop, he would\nnevertheless not be prevailed upon to tell him any thing till he had\ndone eating, for fear the sad things he had to relate might balk his\nappetite. In a word, when he found he eat no longer, he said to him,\nYou have great reason to thank God you got hither without any ill\naccident. Alas! why? replied king Beder, very much surprised and\nalarmed.\n\nBecause, answered he, this city is called the _City of\nEnchantments_, and governed not by a king but a queen; who is not\nonly one of the finest of her sex, but likewise a notorious and\ndangerous sorceress. You will be convinced of this, added he, when\nyou know that these horses, mules, and other animals that you have\nseen, are so many men, like you and me, whom she has transformed by\nher diabolical art. And when young men like you enter the city, she\nhas persons planted to stop and bring them, either by fair means or\nforce, before her. She receives them in the most obliging manner;\nshe caresses them, regales them, and lodges them magnificently, and\ngives them so many reasons to believe that she loves them, that she\nnever fails of success. But she does not suffer them long to enjoy\nthis happiness. There is not one of them but she has transformed\ninto some animal or bird at the end of forty days. You told me all\nthese animals presented themselves to oppose your landing, and\nhinder your entering the city. This was the only way they could make\nyou comprehend the danger you were going to expose yourself to, and\nthey did all in their power to divert you.\n\nThis account exceedingly afflicted the young king of Persia. Alas!\ncried he, to what extremities has my ill fortune reduced me! I am\nhardly freed from one enchantment, which I look back upon with\nhorror, but I find myself exposed to another much more terrible.\nThis gave him occasion to relate his story to the old man more at\nlength, and to acquaint him of his birth, quality, his passion for\nthe princess of Samandal, and her cruelty in changing him into a\nbird the very moment he had seen her and declared his love to her.\n\nWhen the prince came to speak of his good fortune in finding a queen\nwho broke the enchantment, the old man, to encourage him, said,\nNotwithstanding all I have told you of the magic queen be true, that\nought not to give you the least disquiet, since I am generally\nbeloved throughout the city, and am not unknown to the queen\nherself, who has much respect for me; therefore it was your peculiar\nhappiness led you to address yourself to me rather than elsewhere.\nYou are secure in my house, where I advise you to continue, if you\nthink fit; and provided you do not stray from hence, I dare assure\nyou, you will have no just cause to complain of my insincerity; so\nthat you are under no sort of constraint whatsoever.\n\nKing Beder thanked the old man for his kind reception, and the\nprotection he was pleased so readily to afford him. He sat down at\nthe entrance of the shop; where he no sooner appeared, but his youth\nand good person drew the eyes of all that passed that way. Many\nstopped and complimented the old man on his having acquired so fine\na slave, as they imagined the king to be; and they were the more\nsurprised, as they could not comprehend how so beautiful a youth\ncould escape the queen\u2019s knowledge. Believe not, said the old man,\nthis is a slave; you all know that I am not rich enough, nor of rank\nto have one of this consequence. He is my nephew, son of a brother\nof mine that is dead; and as I had no children of my own, I sent for\nhim to keep me company. They congratulated his good fortune in\nhaving so fine a young man for his relation; but could not help\ntelling him they feared the queen would take him from him. You know\nher well, said they to him, and you cannot be ignorant of the danger\nto which you are exposed, after all the examples you have seen. How\ngrieved would you be, if she should serve him as she has done so\nmany others that we know of!\n\nI am obliged to you, replied the old man, for your good-will towards\nme, and I heartily thank you for the care you seem to take of my\ninterest; but I shall never entertain the least thought that the\nqueen will do me any injury, after all the kindness she has\nprofessed for me. In case she happens to hear of this young man, and\nspeaks to me about him, I doubt not she will cease to think of him,\nas soon as she comes to know he is my nephew.\n\nThe old man was exceedingly glad to hear the commendations they\nbestowed on the young king of Persia. He was as much affected with\nthem as if he had been his own son; and he conceived such a kindness\nfor him, as augmented every day during the stay he made with him.\nThey had lived about a month together, when king Beder sitting at\nthe shop door, after his ordinary manner, queen Labe (so was this\nmagic queen named) happened to come by with great pomp. The young\nking no sooner perceived the guards coming before her, but he arose,\nand going into the shop, asked the old man what all that show meant.\nThe queen is coming by, answered he; but stand still, and fear\nnothing.\n\nThe queen\u2019s guards, clothed in purple uniform, and well armed and\nmounted, marched in four files, with their sabres drawn, to the\nnumber of a thousand, and every one of their officers, as they\npassed by the shop, saluted the old man: then followed a like number\nof eunuchs, habited in brocaded silk, and better mounted, whose\nofficers did the old man the like honours. Next came as many young\nladies on foot, equally beautiful, richly dressed, and set off with\nprecious stones. They marched gravely, with half pikes in their\nhands; and in the midst of them appeared queen Labe, on a horse\nglittering with diamonds, with a golden saddle, and a housing of\ninestimable value. All the young ladies saluted the old man as they\npassed by him; and the queen, struck with the good mien of king\nBeder, stopped as soon as she came before the shop. Abdallah, (so\nwas the old man named,) said she to him, tell me, I beseech thee,\ndoes that beautiful and charming slave belong to thee? and is it\nlong that thou hast been in possession of him?\n\nAbdallah, before he answered the queen, threw himself on the ground,\nand rising again, said, Madam, it is my nephew, son of a brother I\nhad, who has not long been dead. Having no children, I look upon him\nas my son, and sent for him to come and comfort me, intending to\nleave him what I have when I die.\n\nQueen Labe who had never yet seen any one to compare with king\nBeder, and began to conceive a mighty passion for him, thought\nimmediately of getting the old man to abandon him to her. Father,\nquoth she, will you not oblige me so far as to make me a present of\nthis young man? Do not refuse me, I conjure you; and I swear by the\nfire and the light, I will make him so great and powerful, that no\nindividual in the world ever arrived at such good fortune. Although\nmy purpose were to do evil to all mankind, yet he shall be the sole\nexception. I trust you will grant me what I desire, more on the\naccount of the friendship I know you have for me, than for the\nesteem you know I always had, and shall ever have, for your person.\n\nMadam, replied the good Abdallah, I am infinitely obliged to your\nmajesty for all the kindness you have for me, and the honours you\npropose to do my nephew. He is not worthy to approach so great a\nqueen, and I humbly beseech your majesty to excuse him.\n\nAbdallah, replied the queen, I all along flattered myself you loved\nme; and I could never have thought you would have given me so\nevident a token of your slighting my request. But I here swear once\nmore by the fire and light, and even by whatsoever is most sacred in\nmy religion, that I will pass on no farther till I have conquered\nyour obstinacy. I understand very well what raises your\napprehensions; but I promise you shall never have occasion to repent\nhaving obliged me in so sensible a manner.\n\nOld Abdallah was exceedingly grieved, both on his own account and\nking Beder\u2019s, for being in a manner forced to obey the queen.\nMadam, replied he, I would not willingly have your majesty entertain\nan ill opinion of the respect I have for you, and my zeal always to\ncontribute whatever I can to oblige you. I put an entire confidence\nin your royal word, and I do not in the least doubt but you will\nkeep it. I only beg of your majesty to delay doing this great honour\nto my nephew till you shall again pass this way. That shall be\nto-morrow, said the queen; who inclined her head, as a token of her\nbeing pleased, and so went forward towards her palace.\n\nWhen queen Labe and all her attendants were out of sight, the good\nAbdallah said to king Beder, Son (for so he was wont to call him,\nfor fear of some time or other discovering him when he spoke of him\nin public,) it has not been in my power, as you may have observed,\nto refuse the queen what she demanded of me with so great\nearnestness, to the end I might not force her to employ her magic\nboth against you and myself openly or secretly, and treat you, as\nmuch from resentment to you as to me, with more signal cruelty than\nall those she has had in her power till now, as I have already told\nyou. But I have some reason to believe she will use you well, as she\npromised me, on account of that particular esteem she professes for\nme. This you may have seen by the respect shewn, and the honours\npaid me by all her court. She would be a cursed creature indeed, if\nshe should deceive me; but she shall not deceive me unrevenged, for\nI know how to be even with her.\n\nThese assurances, which appeared very doubtful, were not sufficient\nto support king Beder\u2019s spirits. After all you have told me of\nthis queen\u2019s wickedness, replied he, you cannot wonder if I am\nsomewhat fearful to approach her: I should, it may be, slight all\nyou could tell me of her, and suffer myself to be dazzled by the\nlustre of grandeur that surrounds her, did I not know by experience\nwhat it is to be at the mercy of a sorceress. The condition I was\nin, through the enchantment of the princess Giauhara, and from\nwhence I was delivered only to enter almost immediately into\nanother, has made me look upon such a fate with horror. His tears\nhindered him from going on, and sufficiently showed with what\nrepugnance he beheld himself in a manner under a fatal necessity of\nbeing delivered to queen Labe.\n\nSon, replied old Abdallah, do not afflict yourself; for though I\nmust own there is no great stress to be laid upon the promises and\noaths of so perfidious a queen, yet I must withal acquaint you, her\npower extends not to me. She knows it full well herself; and that is\nthe reason, and no other, that she pays me so great respect. I can\nquickly hinder her from doing you the least harm, if she should be\nperfidious enough to attempt it. You may depend upon me; and,\nprovided you follow exactly the advice I shall give you, before I\nabandon you to her, she shall have no more power over you than she\nhas over me.\n\nThe magic queen did not fail to pass by the old man\u2019s shop the\nnext day, with the same pomp as the day before, and Abdallah waited\nfor her with great respect. Father, cried she, stopping just against\nhim, you may judge of my impatience to have your nephew with me, by\nmy punctual coming to put you in mind of your promise. I know you\nare a man of your word, and I cannot think you will break it with me.\n\nAbdallah, who fell on his face as soon as he saw the queen\napproaching, rose up when she had done speaking; and as he would\nhave nobody hear what he had a mind to say to her, he advanced with\ngreat respect as far as her horse\u2019s head and then said softly,\nPuissant queen! I am persuaded your majesty will not be offended at\nmy seeming unwillingness to trust my nephew with you yesterday,\nsince you cannot be ignorant of the reasons I had for it; but I\nconjure you to lay aside the secrets of that art which you possess\nin so wonderful a degree. I regard my nephew as my own son; and your\nmajesty would reduce me to despair, if you should deal with him as\nyou have done with others.\n\nI promise you I will not, replied the queen; and I once more repeat\nthe oath I made yesterday, that neither you nor your nephew shall\nhave any cause to be offended at me. I see plainly, added she, you\nare not yet well enough acquainted with me: you never saw me yet but\nthrough a veil; but as I find your nephew worthy of my friendship, I\nwill show you I am not any way unworthy of his. With that she threw\non her veil, and discovered to king Beder, who came near her with\nAbdallah, an incomparable beauty. But king Beder was little charmed.\nIt is not enough, said he within himself, to be beautiful; one\u2019s\nactions ought to correspond in regularity with one\u2019s features.\n\nWhilst king Beder was making these reflections, with his eyes fixed\non queen Labe, the old man turned towards him, and taking him by the\narm, presented him to her majesty. Here he is, madam, said he; and I\nbeg of your majesty once more to remember he is my nephew, and to\nlet him come and see me sometimes. The queen promised he should; and\nto give a farther mark of her gratitude, she caused a bag of a\nthousand pieces of gold to be given him. He excused himself at first\nfrom receiving them, but she insisted absolutely upon it, and he\ncould not refuse her. She had caused a horse to be brought as richly\nharnessed as her own, for the king of Persia. Whilst he was mounting\nhim, I forgot, said the queen to Abdallah, to ask you your\nnephew\u2019s name: pray how is he called? He answered, his name was\nBeder (the full moon:) her majesty replied, Sure your ancestors were\nmistaken; they ought to have given you the name of Shems (the sun.)\n\nWhen king Beder was mounted, he would have taken his post behind the\nqueen, but she would not suffer him, and made him ride on her left\nhand. She looked upon Abdallah, and after having made him an\ninclination with her head, she set forward on her march.\n\nInstead of observing a satisfaction in the people\u2019s faces at the\nsight of their sovereign, king Beder took notice that they looked at\nher with contempt, and even cursed her. The sorceress, said some,\nhas got a new subject to exercise her wickedness upon: will Heaven\nnever deliver the world from her tyranny? Poor stranger! cried out\nothers, thou art much deceived if thou thinkest thine happiness will\nlast long. It is only to render thy fall more terrible, that thou\nart raised so high. This talk gave king Beder to understand Abdallah\nhad told him nothing but the truth of queen Labe: but as it now\ndepended no longer on himself to escape the mischief, he committed\nhimself to divine Providence, and the will of Heaven respecting his\nfate.\n\nThe magic queen arrived at her palace; whither she was no sooner\ncome, out she alighted, and giving her hand to king Beder, entered\nwith him, accompanied by her women and the officers of her eunuchs.\nShe herself showed him all her apartments, where there was nothing\nto be seen but massy gold, precious stones, and furniture of\nwonderful magnificence. When she had carried him into her closet,\nshe led him out into a balcony, from whence he observed a garden of\nsurprising beauty. King Beder commended all he saw with a great deal\nof wit, but nevertheless so that he might not be discovered to be\nany other than old Abdallah\u2019s nephew. They discoursed of\nindifferent matters, till the queen was informed that dinner was\nupon table.\n\nThe queen and king Beder arose, and went to place themselves at the\ntable, which was of massy gold, and the dishes of the same metal.\nThey began to eat, but drank hardly at all till the dessert came,\nwhen the queen caused a cup to be filled for her with excellent\nwine. She took it and drank to king Beder\u2019s health; and then,\nwithout putting it out of her hand, caused it to be filled again,\nand presented it to him. King Beder received it with profound\nrespect, and by a very low bow signified to her majesty that he in\nreturn drank to her health.\n\nAt the same time ten of queen Labe\u2019s women entered with musical\ninstruments, with which and their voices they made an agreeable\nconcert, while they continued drinking till late at night. At length\nboth began so to be heated with wine, that king Beder insensibly\nforgot he had to do with a magic queen, and looked upon her only as\nthe most beautiful queen he ever saw. As soon as the queen perceived\nshe had wrought him to the pitch she desired, she made a sign to her\neunuchs and women to retire. They obeyed, and king Beder and she lay\ntogether.\n\nNext morning the queen and king Beder, as soon as they rose, went to\nthe bath; and when they came out, the women who had served the king\nthere presented him with fine linen and a magnificent habit. The\nqueen likewise, who was more splendidly dressed than the day before,\ncame to receive him; and they went together to her apartments, where\nthey had a good repast brought them, and spent the remainder of the\nday in walking in the garden, and in various other amusements.\n\nQueen Labe treated king Beder after this manner for forty days, as\nshe had been accustomed to do all her lovers. The fortieth night, as\nthey were in bed together, she, believing he was really asleep,\narose without making any noise; but he was awake, and, perceiving\nshe had some design upon him, watched all her motions. Being up, she\nopened a chest, from whence she took a little box full of a certain\nyellow powder; taking some of the powder, she laid a train of it\nacross the chamber, and it immediately flowed in a rivulet of water,\nto the great astonishment of king Beder. He trembled with fear, but\nstill pretended to sleep, that he might not discover to the\nsorceress he was awake.\n\nQueen Labe next took up some of the water in a vessel, and poured it\ninto a basin, where there was flour; with which she made a paste,\nand kneaded it for a long time; then she mixed with it certain\ndrugs, which she took from different boxes, and made a cake, which\nshe put into a covered baking-pan. --As she had taken care first of\nall to make a good fire, she took some of the coals and set the pan\nupon them; and while the cake was baking, she put up the vessels and\nboxes in their places again; and on her pronouncing certain words,\nthe rivulet, which run along the end of the room, appeared no more.\nWhen the cake was baked, she took it off the coals, and carried it\ninto her closet, and afterwards returned to bed again to king Beder,\nwho dissembled so well, that she had not the least suspicion that he\nhad seen any thing of what she had done.\n\nKing Beder, whom the pleasures and amusements of a court had made to\nforget his good host Abdallah, began now to think of him again, and\nbelieved he had more than ordinary occasion for his advice, after\nall he had seen the queen do that night. As soon as he was up,\ntherefore, he expressed a great desire to go up and see his uncle,\nand begged of her majesty to permit him. What! my dear Beder, cried\nthe queen, are you then already tired, I will not say with living in\nso superb a palace as mine is, where you must find so many\npleasures, but with the company of a queen, who loves you so\npassionately as I do, and has given you many marks of affection?\n\nGreat queen, answered king Beder, how can I be tired of so many\nfavours and graces as your majesty perpetually heaps upon me? So far\nfrom it, that I desire this permission, madam, purely to go and give\nmy uncle an account of the mighty obligations I have to your\nmajesty. I must own likewise, it is partly for this farther reason,\nthat my uncle, loving me so tenderly, as I well know he does, and I\nhaving been absent from him now forty days, without once seeing him,\nI would not give him reason to think that I consent to remaining\nlonger without seeing him. Go, said the queen, you have my consent;\nbut you will not be long before you return, if you consider I cannot\npossibly live without you. This said, she ordered him a horse richly\ncaparisoned, and he departed.\n\nOld Abdallah was overjoyed to see king Beder. Without regard to his\nquality, he embraced him tenderly, and king Beder returned the like,\nthat nobody might doubt but that he was his nephew. As soon as they\nwere sat down, Well, said Abdallah to the king, how have you done,\nand how have you passed your time with that infidel sorceress?\n\nHitherto, answered king Beder, I must needs own she has been\nextraordinary kind to me, and has done all she could to persuade me\nthat she loves me entirely; but I observed something last night,\nwhich gives me just reason to suspect that all her kindness hitherto\nis but dissimulation. Whilst she thought me asleep, although I was\nreally awake, she stole from me with a great deal of precaution,\nwhich made me suspect her intention, and therefore I resolved to\nwatch her, still feigning myself asleep. Going on with his\ndiscourse, he related to Abdallah how and after what manner he had\nseen her make the cake; and then added, Hitherto, said he, I must\nneeds confess, I had almost forgotten, not only you, but all the\nadvice you gave me concerning the wickedness of this queen; but this\nlast action of hers gives me reason to fear she neither intends to\nobserve any of her promises or solemn oaths to you. I thought of you\nimmediately, and I esteem myself happy in that I have obtained\npermission to come to you.\n\nYou are not mistaken, replied old Abdallah, with a smile, which\nshowed he did not himself believe she would have acted otherwise;\nnothing is capable of obliging a perfidious woman to amend. But fear\nnothing; I know the way to make the mischief she intends you fall\nupon herself. You are alarmed in time; and you could not have done\nbetter than to have recourse to me. It is her ordinary practice to\nkeep her lovers only forty days; and after that time, instead of\nsending them home, to turn them into animals, to stock her forests\nand parks; but I thought of measures yesterday to prevent her doing\nyou the same harm. The earth has borne this monster long enough, and\nit is now high time she should be treated as she deserves.\n\nSo saying, Abdallah put two cakes into king Beder\u2019s hands, bidding\nhim to keep them to make use of as he should direct. You told me,\ncontinued he, the sorceress made a cake last night; it was for you\nto eat, depend upon it; but take great care you do not touch it.\nNevertheless, do not refuse to receive it when she offers it to you;\nbut, instead of tasting it, break off part of one of the two I shall\ngive you unobserved, and eat that. As soon as she thinks you have\nswallowed it, she will not fail to attempt transforming you into\nsome animal, but she shall not succeed; which when she sees, she\nwill immediately turn the thing into pleasantry, as if what she had\ndone was only out of joke to frighten you; but she will conceal a\nmortal grief in her heart, and think she omitted something in the\ncomposition of her cake. As for the other cake, you shall make a\npresent of it to her, and press her to eat it; which she will not\nrefuse to do, were it only to convince you she does not mistrust\nyou, though she has given you so much reason to mistrust her. When\nshe has eat of it, take a little water in the hollow of your hand,\nand throwing it in her face, say, \u2018Quit that form you now wear,\nand take that of such or such animal,\u2019 as you shall think fit;\nwhich done, come to me with the animal, and I will tell you what you\nshall do afterward.\n\nKing Beder told Abdallah, in the most expressive terms, the great\nobligations he had to him, for his endeavours to defend him from the\npower of a pestilent sorceress; and after some farther discourse,\ntook his leave of him, and returned to the palace. --Upon his\narrival, he understood that the queen waited for him with great\nimpatience in the garden. He went to her, and she no sooner\nperceived him, but she came in great haste to meet him. My dear\nBeder, said she, it is said, with a great deal of reason, that\nnothing shows more the force and excess of love than absence from\nthe object beloved. I have had no quiet since I saw you, and it\nseems ages since I have been separated from you. If you had stayed\never so little longer, I was preparing to come and fetch you once\nmore to my arms.\n\nMadam, replied king Beder, I can assure your majesty I was no less\nimpatient to rejoin you; but I could not refuse to stay a little\nlonger with an uncle that loves me, and had not seen me for so long\ntime. He would have kept me still longer, but I tore myself away\nfrom him, to come where love calls me. Of all the collations he\nprepared for me, I have only brought away this cake, which I desire\nyour majesty to accept. --King Beder had wrapped up one of the two\ncakes in a handkerchief very neatly, took it out and presented it to\nthe queen, saying, I beg your majesty to accept of it.\n\nI do accept it with all my heart, replied the queen, receiving it,\nand will eat it with pleasure for yours and your good uncle\u2019s\nsake; but before I taste of it, I desire you for my sake will eat a\npiece of this, which I have made for you during your absence. Fair\nqueen, answered king Beder, receiving it with great respect, such\nhands as your majesty\u2019s can never make any thing but what is\nexcellent; and I cannot sufficiently acknowledge the favour you do\nme.\n\nKing Beder then artfully substituted in the place of the queen\u2019s\ncake the other which old Abdallah had given him; and having broken\noff a piece, he put it in his mouth, and cried while he was eating,\nAh! queen, I never tasted any thing so charming in my life. They\nbeing near a cascade, the sorceress seeing him swallow one bit of\nthe cake, and ready to eat another, took a little water in the palm\nof her hand, and throwing it in the king\u2019s face, said, \u2018Wretch!\nquit that form of a man, and take that of a vile horse, blind and\nlame.\u2019\n\nThese words not having the desired effect, the sorceress was\nstrangely surprised to find king Beder still in the same form, and\nthat he only started for fear. Her cheeks reddened; and as she saw\nthat she had missed her aim, Dear Beder, cried she, this is nothing,\nrecover yourself. I did not intend you any harm; I only did it to\nsee what you would say. I should be the most miserable and most\nexecrable of women, should I attempt so black a deed; I do not only\nsay, after all the oaths I have sworn, but even after so many\ntestimonies of love as I have given you.\n\nPuissant queen, replied king Beder, persuaded as I am that what your\nmajesty did was only to divert yourself, yet I could not help being\nsurprised. What could hinder me from being a little moved at the\npronouncing of so strange a transformation? But, madam, continued\nhe, let us drop this discourse; and since I have eat of your cake,\nwould you do me the favour to taste mine?\n\nQueen Labe, who could not better justify herself than by showing\nthis mark of confidence in the king of Persia, broke off a piece of\nhis cake, and eat it. She had no sooner swallowed it, but she\nappeared much troubled, and remained, as it were, motionless. King\nBeder lost no time, but took water out of the same basin, and\nthrowing it in her face, cried, \u2018Abominable sorceress! quit that\nform of a woman, and be turned instantly into a mare.\u2019\n\nThe same instant queen Labe was transformed into a very beautiful\nmare; and her confusion was so great to find herself in that\ncondition, that she shed tears in great abundance, which perhaps no\nmare before had ever been known to do. She bowed her head to the\nfeet of king Beder, thinking to move him to compassion; but though\nhe could have been so moved, it was absolutely out of his power to\nrepair the mischief he had done. He led her into the stable\nbelonging to the palace, and put her into the hands of a groom, to\nbridle and saddle; but of all the bridles which the groom tried upon\nher, not one would fit her. This made him cause two horses to be\nsaddled, one for the groom, and the other for himself; and the groom\nled the mare after him to old Abdullah\u2019s.\n\nAbdallah, seeing at a distance king Beder coming with the mare,\ndoubted not but he had done what he advised him. Cursed sorceress!\nsaid he immediately to himself, in a transport of joy, Heaven has at\nlength punished thee as thou deservest. King Beder alighted at\nAbdallah\u2019s door, and entered with him into the shop, embracing and\nthanking him for all the signal services he had done him. He related\nto him the whole matter, with all its circumstances, and moreover\ntold him he could find no bridle fit for the mare. Abdallah, who had\none for every horse, bridled the mare himself; and as soon as king\nBeder had sent back the groom with the two horses, he said to him,\nMy lord, you have no reason to stay any longer in this city; mount\nthe mare, and return to your kingdom. I have but one thing more to\nrecommend to you, and that is, if you should ever happen to part\nwith the mare, be sure not to give up the bridle. King Beder\npromised to remember it; and having taken leave of the good old man,\nhe departed.\n\nThe young king of Persia no sooner got out of the city, but he began\nto reflect with joy on the deliverance he had had, and that he had\nthe sorceress in his power, who had given him so much cause to\ntremble. Three days after he arrived at a great city, where,\nentering the suburbs, he met a venerable old man, walking on foot\ntowards a pleasure house he had there. Sir, said the old man,\nstopping him, may I presume to ask from what part of the world you\ncome? The king stopped to satisfy him; and as they were discoursing\ntogether, an old woman came up, who, stopping likewise, wept and\nsighed bitterly at the sight of the mare.\n\nKing Beder and the old man left off discoursing to look on the old\nwoman, whom the king asked what cause she had to lament so much?\nAlas! sir, replied she, it is because your mare resembles so\nperfectly one my son had, and which I still mourn the loss of on his\naccount, and should think your\u2019s were the same, did I not know she\nwas dead. Sell her to me, I beseech you; I will give you more than\nshe is worth, and thank you too.\n\nGood woman, replied king Beder, I am heartily sorry I cannot comply\nwith your request; my mare is not to be sold. Alas! sir, continued\nthe old woman, do not refuse me this favour for the love of God. My\nson and I shall certainly die with grief if you do not grant it.\nGood woman, replied the king, I would grant it with all my heart,\nill was disposed to part with so good a beast; but if I were so\ndisposed, I believe you would hardly give a thousand pieces of gold\nfor her, and I could not sell her for less. Why should I not give so\nmuch? replied the old woman; if that be the lowest price, you need\nonly say you will take it, and I will fetch you the money.\n\nKing Beder, seeing the old woman so poorly dressed, could not\nimagine she could find the money; therefore to try her, he said, Go\nfetch the money, and the mare is yours. The old woman immediately\nunloosed a purse she had fastened to her girdle, and desiring him to\nalight, bid him tell over the money; and in case he found it came\nshort of the sum demanded, she said her house was not far off, and\nshe could quickly fetch the rest.\n\nThe surprise king Beder was in at the sight of this purse was not\nsmall. Good woman, said he, do you not perceive I have bantered you\nall this while? I will assure you the mare is not to be sold.\n\nThe old man who had been witness to all that was said, now began to\nspeak. Son, quoth he to king Beder, it is necessary you should know\none thing, which I find you are ignorant of, and that is, that in\nthis city it is not permitted to any one to tell a lie, on any\naccount whatsoever, on pain of death. You cannot refuse taking this\ngood woman\u2019s money, and delivering your mare, when she gives you\nthe sum according to the agreement; and this you had better do\nwithout any noise, than expose yourself to what may ensue.\n\nKing Beder, sorely afflicted to find himself thus trapped by his\nrash proffer, alighted with great regret. The old woman stood ready\nto seize the bridle, and immediately unbridled the mare; and taking\nsome water in her hand from the stream that ran in the middle of the\nstreet, she threw it in the mare\u2019s face, uttering these words:\n\u2018Daughter, quit that strange shape, and re-assume thy own.\u2019 The\ntransformation was effected in a moment; and king Beder, who swooned\nas soon as he saw queen Labe appear, would have fallen to the\nground, if the old man had not hindered him.\n\nThe old woman, who was mother to queen Labe, and had instructed her\nin all her magic secrets, had no sooner embraced her daughter, but\nto show her fury, in an instant she, by whistling, caused to rise a\ngenie of a gigantic form and stature. This genie immediately took\nking Beder on one shoulder, and the old woman with the magic queen\non the other, and transported them in a few minutes to the palace of\nqueen Labe in the city of Enchantments.\n\nThe magic queen immediately fell upon king Beder, reproaching him\ngrievously in the following manner: is it thus, ungrateful wretch,\nthat thy unworthy uncle and thou repay me for all the kindnesses I\nhave done for you? I shall soon make you both feel what you deserve.\nShe said no more, but taking water in her hand, threw it in his face\nwith these words: \u2018Come out of that shape, and take that of a vile\nowl.\u2019 These words were soon followed by the effect; and\nimmediately she commanded one of her women to shut up the owl in a\ncage, and give him neither meat nor drink.\n\nThe woman took the cage, and, without regarding what the queen\nordered, gave him both meat and drink; and being old Abdallah\u2019s\nfriend, she sent him word privately how the queen had treated his\nnephew, and her design to destroy both him and king Beder, that he\nmight give orders to prevent it, and secure himself.\n\nAbdallah knew no common measures would do with queen Labe: he\ntherefore did but whistle after a certain manner, and there\nimmediately arose a vast giant, with four wings, who, presenting\nhimself before him, asked what he would have with him? Lightning,\nsaid Abdallah to him, (for so was the genie called,) I command you\nto preserve the life of king Beder, son of queen Gulnare. Go to the\npalace of the magic queen, and transport immediately to the capital\nof Persia the compassionate woman who has the cage in custody, to\nthe end she may inform queen Gulnare of the danger the king her son\nis in, and the occasion he has for her assistance. Take care not to\nfrighten her when you come before her, and acquaint her from me what\nshe ought to do.\n\nLightning immediately disappeared, and got in an instant to the\npalace of the magic queen. He instructed the woman, lifted her up\ninto the air, and transported her to the capital of Persia, where he\nplaced her on the terrace that was near the apartment where queen\nGulnare was. She went down stairs to the apartment, and she there\nfound queen Gulnare and queen Farasche, her mother, lamenting their\nmutual misfortunes. She made them a profound reverence; and by the\nrelation she gave them, they soon understood the great need king\nBeder was in of their assistance.\n\nQueen Gulnare was so overjoyed at the news, that, rising from her\nseat, she went and embraced the good woman, telling her how much she\nwas obliged to her for the service she had done her.\n\nThen going immediately out, she commanded the trumpets to sound and\nthe drums to beat, to acquaint the city that the king of Persia\nwould suddenly return safe to his kingdom. She then went again, and\nfound king Saleh her brother, whom Farasche had caused to come\nspeedily thither by a certain fumigation. Brother, said she to him,\nthe king your nephew, my dear son, is in the city of Enchantments,\nunder the power of queen Labe. Both you and I must go to deliver\nhim, for there is no time to be lost.\n\nKing Saleh forthwith assembled a puissant body of his marine troops,\nwho soon rose out of the sea. He also called to his assistance the\ngenies his allies, who appeared with a much more numerous army than\nhis own. As soon as the two armies were joined, he put himself at\nthe head of them with queen Farasche, queen Gulnare, and the\nprincesses, who would all have their share in this action. They then\nlifted themselves up into the air, and soon poured down on the\npalace and city of Enchantments, where the magic queen, her mother,\nand all the adorers of fire, were destroyed in an instant.\n\nQueen Gulnare had ordered the woman who brought her the news of\nqueen Labe\u2019s transforming and imprisoning her son to follow her\nclose, and bid her, in the confusion, only go and seize the cage,\nand bring it to her. This order was executed as she wished; and\nqueen Gulnare was no sooner in possession of the cage, but she\nopened it, and took out the owl, saying, as she sprinkled a little\nwater upon him, \u2018My dear son, quit that strange form, and resume\nthy natural one of a man.\u2019\n\nIn a moment, queen Gulnare no more saw the hideous owl, but king\nBeder her son. She immediately embraced him with an excess of joy,\nher tears supplying more forcibly the place of words. She could not\nfind in her heart to let him go; and queen Farasche was obliged to\nforce him from her in her turn. After her, he was likewise embraced\nby the king his uncle and his relations.\n\nQueen Gulnare\u2019s first care was to look out for old Abdallah, to\nwhom she had been obliged for the recovery of the king of Persia,\nand who being brought to her, she said to him, My obligations to\nyou, sir, have been so great, that there is nothing within my power\nbut I would freely do for you as a token of my acknowledgment. Do\nbut satisfy me in what I can serve you. Great queen, replied\nAbdallah, if the lady whom I sent to your majesty will but consent\nto the marriage I offer her, and the king of Persia will give me\nleave to reside at his court, I will spend the remainder of my days\nin his service. Then the queen turned to the lady, who was present,\nand finding by her modest shame that she was not averse to the match\nproposed, she caused them to join hands, and the king of Persia and\nshe took care of their fortune.\n\nThis marriage occasioned the king of Persia to speak thus to the\nqueen: Madam, said he, I am heartily glad of this match which his\nmajesty has just made. There remains one more which I desire you to\nthink of. Queen Gulnare did not at first comprehend what marriage he\nmeant; but after a little considering, she said, Of yours, you mean,\nson? I consent to it with all my heart. Then turning, and looking on\nher brother\u2019s sea attendants, and the genies who were still\npresent, Go, said she, and traverse both sea and land, to find out\nthe most lovely and amiable princess, worthy of the king my son, and\ncome and tell us.\n\nMadam, replied king Beder, it is to no purpose for them to take all\nthat pains. You have no doubt heard that I have already given my\nheart to the princess of Samandal, upon the bare relation of her\nbeauty. I have seen her, and do not repent of the present I then\nmade her. In a word, neither earth nor sea, in my opinion, can\nfurnish a princess like her. It is true, upon my declaring my love\nto her, she treated me in a way that would have extinguished any\nflame less strong than mine. But I hold her excused; she could not\ntreat me with less rigour, after imprisoning the king her father, of\nwhich I was the innocent cause. But, it may be, the king of Samandal\nmay have changed his resolution; and his daughter the princess may\nconsent to love me, when she sees her father has agreed to it.\n\nSon, replied queen Gulnare, if only the princess Giauhara can make\nyou happy, it is not my design to oppose you. The king your uncle,\nneed only have the king of Samandal brought, and we shall soon see\nwhether he be still of the same untractable temper.\n\nStrictly as the king of Samandal had been kept during his captivity\nby king Saleh\u2019s orders, yet he always had great respect shown him,\nand was become very familiar with the officers who guarded him. King\nSaleh caused a chafing-dish of coals to be brought, into which he\nthrew a certain composition, uttering at the same time some\nmysterious words. As soon as the smoke began to arise, the palace\nshook, and immediately the king of Samandal, with king Saleh\u2019s\nofficers, appeared. The king of Persia cast himself at the king of\nSamandal\u2019s feet, and kneeling said, It is no longer king Saleh\nthat demands of your majesty the honour of your alliance for the\nking of Persia; it is the king of Persia himself that humbly begs\nthat boon; and I persuade myself your majesty will not persist in\nbeing the cause of the death of a king, who can no longer live if he\ndoes not share life with the amiable princess Giauhara.\n\nThe king of Samandal did not long suffer the king of Persia to\nremain at his feet. He embraced him, and obliging him to rise, said,\nI should be very sorry to have contributed in the least to the death\nof a monarch who is so worthy to live. If it be true that so\nprecious a life cannot be preserved without the possession of my\ndaughter, live, sir, said he; she is yours. She has always been\nobedient to my will, and I cannot think she will now oppose it.\nSpeaking these words, he ordered one of his officers, whom king\nSaleh had permitted to be about him, to go and look for the princess\nGiauhara, and bring her to him immediately.\n\nThe princess continued where the king of Persia had left her. The\nofficer perceived her, and brought her soon with her women. The king\nof Samandal embraced her, and said, Daughter, I have provided a\nhusband for you; it is the king of Persia you see there, the most\naccomplished monarch at present in the universe. The preference he\nhas given you to all other princesses, obliges us both to express\nour gratitude.\n\nSir, replied the princess Giauhara, your majesty well knows I never\nhave presumed to disobey your will in any thing: I shall always be\nready to obey you; and I hope the king of Persia will forget my\nill-treatment of him, and consider it was duty, not inclination,\nthat forced me to it.\n\nThe nuptials were celebrated in the palace of the City of\nEnchantments, with the greater solemnity, that all the lovers of the\nmagic queen, who resumed their pristine forms, as soon as ever that\nqueen ceased to live, assisted at them, and came to return their\nthanks to the king of Persia, queen Gulnare, and king Saleh. They\nwere all sons of kings or princes, or persons of high rank.\n\nKing Saleh at length conducted the king of Samandal to his\ndominions, and put him in possession of them. The king of Persia, at\nthe height of his wishes, returned to his capital with queen\nGulnare, queen Farasche, and the princesses; and queen Farasche and\nthe princesses continued there till king Saleh came to re-conduct\nthem to his kingdom under the waves of the sea.\n\n\n\n\nThe History of Ganem, Son to Abou Ayoub, and known by the surname of\nLove\u2019s Slave.\n\n\nSir, said Scheherazade to the sultan of the Indies, there was\nformerly at Damascus a merchant, who had by care and industry\nacquired great wealth, on which he lived in a very honourable\nmanner. His name was Abou Ayoub, and he had one son and a daughter.\nThe son was at first called Ganem, but afterwards surnamed _Love\u2019s\nSlave_. His person was graceful, and the excellent natural qualities\nof his mind had been improved by able masters, whom his father had\ntaken care to provide him. The daughter\u2019s name was Alcolomb,\nsignifying _Ravisher of Hearts_, because her beauty was so perfect,\nthat whoever saw her could not but love 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 of it. The loads were ready made up, and on every bale was\nwritten in large characters, \u2018For Bagdad.\u2019\n\nMahommed, the son of Soliman, surnamed Zinebi, reigned at that time\nat Damascus, the capital of Syria. His kinsman Haroun Alraschid,\nwhose residence was at Bagdad, had bestowed that kingdom on him as\nhis tributary.\n\nSoon after the death of Abou Ayoub, Ganem discoursing with his\nmother about their domestic affairs, and amongst the rest concerning\nthe loads of merchandize in the warehouse, asked her the meaning of\nwhat was written 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, to\nwrite the name of the city he designed to repair to on every bale.\nHe had provided all things to take a journey to Bagdad, and was upon\nthe point of setting out, when death --She had not power to finish;\nthe lively remembrance of the loss of her husband would not permit\nher to say more, and drew from her a shower of tears.\n\nGanem could not see his mother so sensibly affected, without being\nhimself equally so. They continued some time silent: but at length\nhe recovered himself, and as soon as he found his mother calm enough\nto listen to him, he directed his discourse to her; and said, Since\nmy father designed these goods for Bagdad, and is no longer in\nbeing, to put his design into execution, I will prepare myself to\nperform that journey; and I am of opinion it will be proper for me\nto hasten my departure, for fear those commodities should perish, or\nthat we lose the opportunity of selling them to the best advantage.\n\nAbou Ayoub\u2019s widow, who tenderly loved her son, was much surprised\nat this resolution, and replied, My dear child, I cannot but commend\nyou for designing to follow your father\u2019s example; but consider\nthat you are too young, inexperienced, and unaccustomed to the\nfatigue of travelling. Besides, can you think of leaving me, and\nadding to that sorrow with which I am already oppressed? Is it not\nbetter to sell those goods to the merchants of Damascus, and take up\nwith a moderate profit, than to expose yourself to the danger of\nperishing?\n\nIt was in vain for her to oppose Ganem\u2019s resolution by the\nstrongest arguments; they had no weight with him. An inclination to\ntravel, and to accomplish himself by a thorough knowledge of the\nworld, urged him to set out, and prevailed over all his mother\u2019s\nremonstrances, her entreaties, and even her tears. He went to the\nmarket where the slaves are sold, and bought such as were\nable-bodied, hired a hundred camels, and having provided all other\nnecessaries, he entered upon his journey with five or six merchants\nof Damascus, who were going to trade at Bagdad.\n\nThose merchants, attended by all their slaves, and accompanied by\nseveral other travellers, made up such a considerable caravan, that\nthey had nothing to fear from the Bedouin Arabs, who make it their\nonly profession to range the country, and to attack and plunder the\ncaravans when they are not strong enough to repulse them. They had\nno other difficulty to encounter, but the usual fatigues of a long\njourney, which were easily forgotten when they came in sight of the\ncity of Bagdad, where they arrived in safety.\n\nThey alighted at the most magnificent and most frequented khan in\nthe city; but Ganem, who chose to be lodged conveniently, and by\nhimself took no apartment there. He only left his goods there in a\nwarehouse for their greater security, and hired a very fine house in\nthe neighbourhood, richly furnished, having a garden which was very\ndelightful, on account of the many water-works and shady groves that\nwere in it.\n\nSome days after this young merchant had been settled in his house,\nand perfectly recovered of the fatigue of his journey, he dressed\nhimself genteelly, and repaired to the public place, where the\nmerchants met to buy and sell. A slave followed him, carrying a\nparcel of fine stuffs and silks.\n\nThe merchants received Ganem very courteously, and their syndic, or\nchief, to whom he first made application, took and bought all his\nparcel, at the price set down in the ticket annexed to every piece\nof stuff. Ganem continued his trade so successfully, that he sold\nall the goods he exposed daily.\n\nHe had but one bale left, which he had caused to be carried from the\nwarehouse to his own house, and then went to the public rendezvous,\nwhere he found all the shops shut. This seemed somewhat\nextraordinary to him, and having asked the cause of it, was told\nthat one of the first merchants whom he knew, was dead, and that all\nhis brother traders were gone to his funeral.\n\nGanem inquired for the mosque where the prayer was to be made, and\nwhence the body was to be conducted to the grave; and having been\ntold, sent back his slave with the goods, and walked towards the\nmosque. He got thither before the prayers were ended, which were\nsaid in a hall hung with black satin. The corpse was taken up, and\nfollowed by the kindred, the merchants, and Ganem, to the place of\nburial, which was at a great distance without the city. It was a\nstone structure, in form of a dome, purposely built to receive the\nbodies of all the family of the deceased; and being very small, they\nhad pitched tents all about it, that all the company might be\nsheltered during the ceremony. The monument was opened, and the\ncorpse laid into it, after which it was shut up again. Then the\niman, and other ministers of the mosque, sat down in a ring on\ncarpets, in the largest tent, and said the rest of the prayers. They\nalso read the chapter of the Koran appointed for the burial of the\ndead. The kindred and merchants sat round, in the same manner,\nbehind the ministers.\n\nIt was near night before all was ended: Ganem, who had not expected\nsuch a long ceremony, began to be uneasy, and the more so, when he\nsaw meat served up in memory of the deceased, according to the\ncustom of Bagdad. He was also told that the tents had not been set\nup only against the heat of the sun, but also against the evening\ndew, because they should not return to the city before the next\nmorning. Those words perplexed Ganem; I am a stranger, said he to\nhimself, and have the reputation of being a rich merchant; thieves\nmay take the opportunity of my absence, and go rob my house. My\nslaves may be tempted by so favourable an opportunity; they may run\naway with all the gold I have received for my goods, and whither\nshall I go to look for them? Full of these thoughts, he eat a few\nmouthfuls hastily, and dexterously slipped away from the company.\n\nHe made all possible haste; but, as it often happens that the more a\nman puts on, the less he advances, he mistook his way, and went\nastray in the dark, so that it was near midnight when he came to the\ncity gate; which, to add to his misfortune, was shut. That\ndisappointment was a fresh affliction to him, and he was obliged to\nlook for some convenient place to pass the rest of the night in, and\nwait till the gate was opened. He went into a burial-place, so\nspacious, that it reached from the city to the very place he was\ncome from. He advanced to some high walls, which enclosed a small\nfield, being the peculiar burial-place of a family, and in which\nthere was a palm-tree. There was an infinite number of other\nparticular burial-places, the doors whereof they did not take care\nto fasten. Ganem, finding that the burial-place where the palm-tree\ngrew was open, went into it, and shut the door after him. He lay\ndown on the grass, and did all he could to sleep; but the uneasiness\nat being absent from home would not permit him. He got up, and after\nhaving passed before the door several times, he opened it, without\nknowing why, and immediately perceived at a distance a light, which\nseemed to come towards him. He was startled at that sight, put to\nthe door, which had nothing to secure it but a latch, and got up as\nfast as he could to the top of the palm-tree; looking upon that as\nthe safest retreat under his present apprehensions.\n\nNo sooner was he got up, than by the help of the light, which had\nfrightened him, he plainly perceived three men, whom, by their\nhabit, he knew to be slaves, come into the burial-place. One of them\nwent foremost with a lanthorn, and the two others followed him,\nbeing loaded with a chest, between five and six feet long, which\nthey carried on their shoulders. They set it down, and then one of\nthe three slaves said to his comrades, Brothers, if you will be\nadvised by me, we will leave the chest here, and return to the city.\n--No, no, replied another, that is not executing our mistress\u2019s\norders; we may have cause to repent not doing as we were commanded.\nLet us bury the chest, since we are so enjoined to do. The two other\nslaves complied. They began to break ground with the tools they had\nbrought for that purpose. When they had made a deep trench, they put\nthe chest into it, and covered it with the earth they had taken out;\nthen departed, and returned home.\n\nGanem, who from the top of the palm-tree had heard every word the\nslaves had spoken, could not tell what to think of that adventure.\nHe concluded that the chest must contain something of value, and\nthat the person to whom it belonged had some particular reasons for\ncausing it to be buried in that cemetery. He resolved immediately to\nsatisfy his curiosity, came down from the palm-tree, the departure\nof the slaves having dissipated his fear, and fell to work upon the\npit, plying his hands and feet so well, that in a short time he\nuncovered the chest, but found it secured with a great padlock. This\nnew obstacle to the satisfying of his curiosity was no small\nmortification to him, yet he was not discouraged; but the day\nbeginning then to appear, he saw several great pebbles about the\nburial-place. He picked out one, with which he easily knocked off\nthe padlock, and then with much impatience opened the chest. Ganem\nwas strangely surprised, when, instead of finding money in it, he\ndiscovered a young lady of incomparable beauty. Her fresh and rosy\ncomplexion, and her gentle regular breathing, satisfied him she was\nalive; but he could not conceive why, if she were only asleep, she\nhad not waked at the noise he made in forcing off the padlock. Her\nhabit was so costly, with bracelets and pendants of diamonds, and a\nnecklace of true pearl, so large, that he made not the least doubt\nof her being one of the principal ladies about the court. At the\nsight of so beautiful an object, not only compassion and natural\ninclination to relieve persons in danger, but something more\npowerful, which Ganem could not then account for, prevailed on him\nto afford that young beauty 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 out of the\nchest, and laid her on the soft earth he had thrown off the said\nchest. As soon as the lady was laid down, and exposed to the air,\nshe sneezed, and by the motion in turning her head, there came from\nher mouth a liquor, with which her stomach seemed to have been\nloaded; then opening and rubbing her eyes, she with such a voice as\ncharmed Ganem, whom she did not see, cried out, Zohoreb Bostan,\nSchagrom Margian, Casabos Souccar, Nouron Nihar, Naginatos Sohi,\nNouzetos Zaman, why do you not answer? where are you? These were the\nnames of six female slaves, that used to wait on her, and signified,\nFlower of the Garden, Branch of Coral, Sugar Cane, Light of the Day,\nMorning Star, and Delight of the Season. She called them, and\nwondered that nobody answered; but at length looking about, and\nperceiving she was in a burial-place, she was seized with fear.\nWhat! cried she, much louder than before, are the dead raised? Is\nthe day of judgment come? What a wonderful change is this from\nevening to morning!\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 am not\nable to express my joy for having happened to be here to do you the\nservice I have done, and to offer you all the assistance you may\nstand in need of under your present circumstances.\n\nIn order to persuade the lady to repose a confidence in him, he, in\nthe first place, told her who he was, and what accident had brought\nhim into that place. Next he acquainted her with the coming of the\nthree slaves, and how they had buried the chest. The lady, who had\ncovered her face with her veil as soon as Ganem appeared, was\nextremely sensible of the obligations she owed him. I return thanks\nto God, said she, for having sent so worthy a person as you are to\ndeliver me from death, but since you have begun so charitable a\nwork, I conjure you not to leave it imperfect. Let me beg of you to\ngo into the city, and provide a muleteer, to come with his mule, and\ncarry me to your house in this chest; for, should I go with you on\nfoot, my dress being different from that of the city ladies, some\none might take notice of it, and follow me, which it highly concerns\nme to prevent. When I shall be in your house, I will give you an\naccount of myself; and in the mean time be assured that you have not\nobliged an ungrateful person.\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 chest,\nand shut it in such a manner, that it did not look as if the padlock\nhad been forced off; but for fear of stifling her, he did not put it\nquite close, leaving room for the air to get in. Going out of the\nburial-place, he drew the door after him; and the city gate being\nthen open, soon found what he sought for. He returned with speed to\nthe burial-place, and helped the muleteer to lay the chest across\nhis mule, telling him, to remove all cause of suspicion, that he\ncame to that place the night before, with another muleteer, who,\nbeing in haste to return home, had laid down the chest in the\nburial-place.\n\nGanem, who, since his arrival at Bagdad, had minded nothing but his\nbusiness, was still unacquainted with the power of love, and now\nfelt the first attacks of it. 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 any\naccident might happen by the way, that should deprive him of his\nconquest, taught him to unravel his thoughts. It was an\nextraordinary satisfaction to him, when, being arrived safe at home,\nhe saw the chest unloaded. He dismissed the muleteer, and having\ncaused a slave to shut the door of his house, he opened the chest,\nhelped the lady out, gave her his hand, and conducted her to his\napartment, lamenting how much she must have endured in that 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\u2019s apartment was very richly furnished, the lady did\nnot so much regard that as she did the handsome presence and\nengaging mien of her deliverer, whose politeness and obliging\nbehaviour heightened her gratitude. She sat down on a sofa, and to\nbegin to give the merchant to understand how sensible she was of the\nservice done her, she took off her veil. Ganem, on his part, was\nsensible of the favour so lovely a lady did in uncovering her face\nto him, or rather felt he had already a most violent passion for\nher. Whatever obligations she owed him, he thought himself more than\nrequited by so singular a favour.\n\nThe lady dived into Ganem\u2019s 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 the\ncare of entertaining so charming a guest, went out with a slave to\nan eating-house, to give directions for a treat. From thence he went\nto a fruiterer, where he chose the finest and best fruit; buying\nalso the choicest wine, and the same bread that was eaten at the\ncaliph\u2019s table.\n\nAs soon as he returned home, he, with his own hands, made a pyramid\nof the fruit he had bought, and serving it up himself to the lady in\na large dish of the finest china-ware. Madam, said he, be pleased to\nmake choice of some of this fruit, while a more solid entertainment,\nand more worthy yourself, is made ready. He would have continued\nstanding before her, but she declared she would not touch any thing,\nunless he sat down and eat with her. He obeyed; and when they had\neaten some small matter, Ganem observing that the lady\u2019s veil,\nwhich she laid down by her on a sofa, was embroidered along the edge\nwith golden letters, begged her leave to look on that embroidery.\nThe lady immediately took up the veil, and delivered it to him,\nasking him whether he could read. Madam, replied he, with a modest\nair, a merchant would be ill qualified to manage his business if he\ncould not at least read and write. Well, then, said she, read the\nwords which are embroidered on that veil, which gives me an\nopportunity of telling you my story.\n\nGanem took the veil, and read these words, \u2018I am yours, and you\nare mine, thou descendant from the prophet\u2019s uncle.\u2019 That\ndescendant from the prophet\u2019s uncle was the caliph Haroun\nAlraschid, who then reigned, and was descended from Abbas,\nMahomet\u2019s uncle.\n\nWhen Ganem perceived the meaning of these words, Alas! madam, said\nhe in a melancholy tone, I have just saved your life, and this\nwriting is 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 of telling you this. It was impossible for me to see\nyou without giving you my heart. You are not ignorant yourself, that\nit was not in my power to refuse it you, and that makes my\npresumption excusable. I proposed to myself to touch your heart by\nmy respectful behaviour, my care, my complaisance, my assiduity, my\nsubmission, my constancy; and no sooner had I formed the flattering\ndesign, than I am robbed of all my hopes. I cannot long survive so\ngreat a misfortune. But, be that as it will, I shall have the\nsatisfaction of dying entirely yours. Proceed, madam, I conjure you,\nand give me full information of my unhappy fate.\n\nHe could not utter those words without letting fall some tears. The\nlady was moved, but was so far from being displeased at the\ndeclaration he made, that she felt secret joy; for her heart began\nto yield. However, she concealed it, and as if she had not regarded\nwhat Ganem said, I should have been very cautious, answered she, of\nshowing you my veil, had I thought it would have given you so much\nuneasiness; and I do not perceive that what I have to say to you can\nmake your condition so deplorable as you imagine.\n\nYou must understand, proceeded she, in order to acquaint you with my\nstory, that my name is Fetnah (which signifies _torments_,) which\nwas given me at my birth, because it was judged that the sight of me\nwould one day occasion many calamities. You cannot be a stranger to\nit, since there is nobody in Bagdad but knows that the caliph Haroun\nAlraschid, my sovereign lord and yours, had a favourite so called.\n\nI was carried into his palace in my tenderest years, and I have been\nbrought up there with all the care that is usually taken with such\npersons of my sex as are destined to reside there. I made no little\nprogress in all they took the pains to teach me; and that, with some\nshare of beauty, gained me the affection of the caliph, who allotted\nme a particular apartment adjoining to his own. That prince was not\nsatisfied with such a mark of distinction; he appointed twenty women\nto wait on me, and as many eunuchs; and ever since he has made me\nsuch considerable presents, that I saw myself richer than any queen\nin the world. You may judge by what I have said, that Zobeide, the\ncaliph\u2019s wife and kinswoman, could not but be jealous of my\nhappiness. Though Haroun has all the regard imaginable for her, she\nhas taken every possible opportunity to ruin me.\n\nHitherto I had secured myself against all her snares, but at length\nI fell under the last effort of her jealousy, and, were it not for\nyou, I had now been exposed to inevitable death. I question not but\nshe had corrupted one of my slaves, who last night, in some\nlemonade, gave me a drug, which causes such a dead sleep, that it is\neasy to dispose of those who have taken it; for that sleep is so\nprofound, that nothing can dispel it for the space of seven or eight\nhours. I have the more reason to judge so, because naturally I am a\nvery bad sleeper, and apt to wake at the least noise.\n\nZobeide, the better to put her design in execution, has laid hold of\nthe opportunity 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 to make war on him. 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 she\nwill do to conceal this action from the caliph, but you see it\nhighly concerns me that you should keep my secret. My life depends\non it I shall be safe in your house, as long as the caliph is from\nBagdad. It concerns you to keep my adventure private; for should\nZobeide know the obligation I owe you, she would punish you for\nhaving saved me.\n\nWhen 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 Haroun Alraschid\u2019s beautiful favourite had done\nspeaking, Ganem began, and said, Madam, I return you a thousand\nthanks for having given me the information I took the liberty to\ndesire of you; and I beg of you to believe, that you are here in\nsafety; the sentiments you have inspired in me are a pledge of my\nsecrecy.\n\nAs for my slaves, I own there is cause to suspect them; they may\nperhaps fail of the fidelity they owe me, should they know by what\naccident, and in what place I had the happiness to find you; but it\nis impossible they should guess at that. Nay, I dare assure you,\nthat they will not have the curiosity to inquire after it. It is so\nnatural for young men to purchase beautiful slaves, that it will be\nno way surprising to them to see you here, as believing you to be\none, and that I have bought you. They will also believe that I had\nsome particular reasons for bringing you home as they saw I did. Set\nyour heart, therefore, at rest, as to that point, and remain\nsatisfied that you shall be served with all the respect that is due\nto the favourite of so great a monarch as ours is. But how great\nsoever he is, give me leave, madam, to declare, that nothing will be\ncapable of making me recall the present I have made you of my heart.\nI know, and shall never forget, that \u2018what belongs to the master\nis forbidden to the slave,\u2019 but I loved you before you told me\nthat you were engaged to the caliph; it is not in my power to\novercome a passion which, though now in its infancy, has all the\nforce of a love strengthened by a perfect correspondence. I wish\nyour august and most fortunate lover may avenge you of the malice of\nZobeide, by calling you back to him; and when you shall be restored\nto his wishes, that you may remember the unfortunate Ganem, who is\nno less 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 I\nshall never cease to sigh for you, into whatever part of the world I\ngo to expire, after having lost you.\n\nFetnah perceived that Ganem was under the greatest of afflictions,\nand it affected her; but considering the uneasiness she was likely\nto bring upon herself, by prosecuting the discourse upon that\nsubject, which might insensibly lead her to discover the inclination\nshe felt in herself for him; I perceive, said she, that this\nconversation gives you too much uneasiness; let us change the\ndiscourse, and talk of the infinite obligation I owe you. I can\nnever sufficiently express my satisfaction, when I reflect that,\nwithout your assistance, I should never again have beheld the light\nof the sun.\n\nIt was happy for them both that somebody just then knocked at the\ndoor: Ganem went to see who it was, and found it was one of his\nslaves, to acquaint him that the entertainment was ready. Ganem, who\nby way of precaution, would have none of his slaves come into the\nroom where Fetnah was, took what was brought, and served it up\nhimself to his beautiful guest, whose soul was ravished to behold\nwhat attention he paid her.\n\nWhen they had eaten, Ganem took away as he covered the table; and\nhaving delivered all things at the chamber-door to his slaves,\nMadam, said he to Fetnah, you may now perhaps desire to take some\nrest; I will leave you, and when you have reposed yourself, you\nshall find me ready to receive your commands.\n\nHaving spoken these words, he left her, and went to purchase two\nwomen-slaves. 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 for\nthe caliph\u2019s favourite. Having conducted home the two\nwomen-slaves, he presented them to Fetnah, saying, Madam, a person\nof your quality cannot be without two waiting maids, at least, to\nserve you; be pleased to accept of these.\n\nFetnah admiring Ganem\u2019s attention, My lord, said she, 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 put me into a\ncondition to return all your acts of generosity.\n\nWhen the women-slaves were withdrawn into a chamber adjoining, where\nthe young merchant sent them, he sat down on the sofa where Fetnah\nwas, but at some distance from her, in token of the greater respect.\nHe then began again to discourse of his passion, and said very\nmoving things on the invincible obstacles which robbed him of all\nhis hopes. I dare not so much as hope, said he, by my passion, to\nexcite the least sensibility in a heart like yours, destined for the\ngreatest prince in the world. Alas! it would be a comfort to me in\nmy misfortunes, if I could flatter myself that you have not looked\nupon the excess of my love with indifference. My lord, answered\nFetnah --Alas! madam, said Ganem, interrupting her at the word lord,\nthis is the second time you have done me the honour to call me lord:\nthe presence of the women-slaves hindered me the first time from\ntaking notice of it to you: in the name of God, madam, do not give\nme this title of honour; it does not belong to me: treat me, I\nbeseech you, as your slave: I am, and shall never cease to be so.\n\nNo, no, replied Fetnah, interrupting him in her turn, I shall be\ncautious how I treat after that manner a man to whom I owe my life.\nI should be ungrateful, could I say or do any thing that did not\nbecome you. Leave me, therefore, to follow the dictates of my\ngratitude, and do not require it of me that I misbehave myself\ntowards you, in return for the benefits I have received. I shall\nnever be guilty of it; I am too sensible of your respectful\nbehaviour to abuse it; and I will not hesitate to own, that I do not\nlook upon all your care with indifference. You know the reasons that\ncondemn me to silence.\n\nGanem was ravished at that declaration; he wept for joy, and not\nbeing 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, was\nnot ignorant that \u2018what belongs to the master is forbidden to the\nservant.\u2019\n\nNight drawing on, he rose up to fetch a light, which he brought in\nhimself, as also some collation, as is the custom in the city of\nBagdad, where, having made a good meal at noon, they passed the\nevening with eating some fruit, and drinking a glass of wine, and\nagreeable conversation till bed-time.\n\nThey both sat down at table, and at first complimented each other on\nthe fruit as they presented it reciprocally. The excellency of the\nwine insensibly drew them both on to drink; and having drank two or\nthree glasses, they agreed that neither should take another glass\nwithout singing some air first. Ganem sung verses he composed\n_extempore_, expressive of the vehemence of his passion; and Fetnah,\nencouraged by his example, composed and sung verses relating to her\nadventure, and always containing something which Ganem might take in\na sense favourable to him; except this, she most exactly observed\nthe fidelity due to the caliph. The collation held till very late,\nand the night was far advanced before they thought of parting. Ganem\nthen withdrew to another apartment, leaving Fetnah where she was,\nthe women-slaves he had bought coming in to wait upon her.\n\nThey lived together after this manner several days. The young\nmerchant went not abroad, unless upon business of the utmost\nconsequence, and even for that took the time when the lady was at\nher rest; for he could not prevail upon himself to lose a moment\nthat might be spent in her company. All his thoughts were taken up\nwith his dear Fetnah, who, on her side, giving way to her\ninclination, confessed she had no less affection for him than he had\nfor her. However, fond as they were of each other, their respect for\nthe caliph kept them within due bounds, which still heightened their\npassion.\n\nWhilst Fetnah, thus snatched from the jaws of death, passed her time\nso agreeably with Ganem, Zobeide was not without some apprehensions\nin Haroun Alraschid\u2019s palace.\n\nNo sooner had the three slaves, entrusted with the execution of her\nrevenge, carried away the chest, without knowing what was in it, or\nhaving the least curiosity to inquire into it (as being used to pay\na blind obedience to her commands), than she was seized with a\ntormenting uneasiness; a thousand perplexing thoughts disturbed her\nrest; sleep fled from her eyes, and she spent the night in\ncontriving how to conceal her crime. My consort, said she, loves\nFetnah more than ever he did any of his favourites. What shall I say\nto him at his return, when he inquires of me after her? Many\ncontrivances occured to her, but none were satisfactory. Still she\nmet with difficulties, and knew not where to fix. There lived with\nher an ancient lady, who had bred her up from her infancy. As soon\nas it was day she sent for her, and having entrusted her with the\nsecret, said, My good mother, you have always assisted me with your\nadvice; if ever I stood in need of it, it is now, when the business\nbefore you is to still my thoughts, distracted by a mortal anxiety,\nand to show me some way to satisfy the caliph.\n\nMy dear mistress, replied the old woman, it had been much better not\nto have run yourself into the difficulties you labour under; but\nsince the thing is done, the best is to say no more of it. All that\nmust now be thought of is how to deceive the commander of the\nbelievers; and I am of opinion, that you immediately cause a wooden\nimage resembling a dead body to be carved. We will shroud it up in\nold linen, and when shut up in a coffin, it shall be buried in some\npart of the palace; then shall you immediately cause a marble\nmonument to be built, in the form of a dome, over the burial-place,\nand erect a figure, which shall be covered with a black cloth, and\nset about with great candlesticks and large wax tapers. There is\nanother thing, added the old lady, which ought not to be forgot: you\nmust put on mourning, and cause the same to be done by all your own\nand Fetnah\u2019s women, your eunuchs, and all the officers of the\npalace. When the caliph returns, and sees you all and the palace in\nmourning, he will not fail to ask the occasion of it. Then will you\nhave an opportunity of insinuating yourself into his favour, by\nsaying it was out of respect to him that you paid the last honours\nto Fetnah, snatched away by sudden death. You may tell him you have\ncaused a mausoleum to be built, and in short, that you have paid all\nthe last honours to his favourite, as he would have done himself had\nhe been present. His passion for her being extraordinary, he will\ncertainly go to shed tears upon her grave; and perhaps, added the\nold woman, he will not believe she is really dead. He may, perhaps,\nsuspect you have turned her out of the palace through jealousy, and\nlook upon all the mourning as an artifice to deceive him, and\nprevent his making search after her. It is likely he will cause the\ncoffin to be taken up and opened, and it is certain he will be\nconvinced of her death, as soon as he shall see the figure of a dead\nbody buried. He will be pleased with all you shall have done, and\nexpress his gratitude. As for the wooden image, I will undertake to\nhave it cut myself by a carver in the city, who shall not know what\nuse it is to be put to. As for your part, madam, order Fetnah\u2019s\nwoman, who yesterday gave her the lemonade, to give out, among her\ncompanions, that she has just found her mistress dead in her bed;\nand to the end that they may only think of lamenting, without\noffering to go into her chamber, let her add, she has already\nacquainted you with it, and that you have ordered Mesrour to cause\nher to be buried.\n\nAs soon as the old lady had spoken these words, Zobeide took a rich\ndiamond ring out of her casket, and putting it on her finger, and\nembracing her in a transport of joy, said, How infinitely am I\nbeholden to you, my good mother! I should never have thought of so\ningenious a contrivance. It cannot fail of success, and I begin to\nrecover my peace of mind. I leave the care of the wooden figure to\nyou, 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\u2019s bed-chamber, where she dressed it like a dead body, and\nput it into a coffin. Then Mesrour, who was himself deceived by it,\ncaused the coffin and the representation of Fetnah to be carried\naway, and buried with the usual ceremonies, in the place appointed\nby Zobeide, the favourite\u2019s women weeping and lamenting, she who\nhad given her the lemonade setting them an example by her cries and\nhowlings.\n\nThat very day Zobeide sent for the architect of the palace and of\nthe caliph\u2019s other houses, and, according to the orders he\nreceived from her, the mausoleum was finished in a very 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\u2019s death was quickly spread all\nover the 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\u2019s fair favourite, you\nare believed in Bagdad to be dead, and I do not question but that\nZobeide herself believes it. I bless Heaven that I am the cause, and\nthe happy witness of your being alive: and would to God, that,\ntaking the 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 Haroun Alraschid is worthy of you. Supposing you could resolve\nto give him up for me, and that you would follow me, ought I to\nconsent to it? No, it is my part always to remember, that \u2018what\nbelongs to the master is forbidden to the slave.\u2019\n\nThe lovely Fetnah, though moved by the tenderness of the passion he\nexpressed, yet prevailed with herself not to answer it. My lord,\nsaid she to him, we cannot obstruct Zobeide\u2019s triumphing. I am not\nat all surprised at the artifice she makes use of to conceal her\nguilt: but let her go on; I flatter myself that sorrow will soon\nfollow her triumph. The caliph will return, and we shall find the\nmeans privately to inform him of all that has happened. In the mean\ntime, let us be more cautious than ever, that she may not know I am\nalive. I have already told you the consequences.\n\nAt the end of three months the caliph returned to Bagdad with glory,\nhaving vanquished all his enemies. He entered the palace with\nimpatience to see Fetnah, and to lay all his new laurels at her\nfeet; but was amazed to see all the officers he had left behind him\nin mourning. He was struck without knowing the cause; and his\nconcern was redoubled, when coming into the apartment of Zobeide, he\nespied that princess coming to meet him in mourning, with all her\nwomen. He immediately asked her the cause of it with much agitation.\nCommander of the believers, answered Zobeide, I am in mourning for\nyour slave Fetnah; who died so suddenly, that it was impossible to\napply any remedy for her distemper. She would have proceeded, but\nthe caliph did not give her time, being so surprised at the news,\nthat he cried out, and fainted in the arms of Giafar, his grand\nvizier, who attended him. But soon recovering himself, he with a\nfeeble voice, which sufficiently expressed his extreme grief, asked\nwhere his dear Fetnah had been buried. Sir, said Zobeide, I myself\ntook care of her funeral, and spared no cost to make it magnificent.\nI have caused a marble mausoleum to be built over her grave, and\nwill attend you thither, if you desire it.\n\nThe caliph would not permit Zobeide to take that trouble, but\ncontented himself to have Mesrour conduct him. He went thither just\nas he was, that is, in his camp dress. When he saw the figure\ncovered with a black cloth, the wax lights round it, and the\nmagnificence of the mausoleum, he was amazed that Zobeide should\nhave performed the obsequies of her rival with so much pomp; and\nbeing naturally of a jealous temper, he suspected his wife\u2019s\ngenerosity, and fancied his mistress might perhaps be yet alive;\nthat Zobeide, taxing the advantage of his long absence, might have\nturned her out of the palace, ordering those she had entrusted to\nconduct her, to convey her so far off that she might never more be\nheard of. This was all he suspected; for he did not think Zobeide\nwicked enough to have attempted the life of his favourite.\n\nThe better to discover the truth himself, this prince ordered the\nfigure to be removed, and caused the grave and the coffin to be\nopened in his presence; but when he saw the linen wrapped round the\nwooden image, he durst not proceed any farther. This religious\ncaliph thought it would be an irreligious act to suffer the body of\nthe dead lady to be touched; and this scrupulous fear prevailed over\nhis love and curiosity. He doubted not of Fetnah\u2019s death. He\ncaused the coffin to be shut up again, the grave to be filled, and\nthe figure to be placed as it was before.\n\nThe caliph, thinking himself obliged to pay some respect to the tomb\nof his favourite, sent for the ministers of religion, the officers\nof the palace, and the readers of the Koran; and, whilst they were\ncollecting together, he remained in the mausoleum, moistening with\nhis tears the earth that covered the phantom of his mistress. When\nall the persons he had sent for were come, he stood before the\nfigure, and they about it recited long prayers; after which, the\nreaders of the Koran read several chapters.\n\nThe same ceremony was performed every day for a whole month, morning\nand evening, the caliph being always present, with Giafar the grand\nvizier, and the principal officers of the court, all of them in\nmourning, as well as the caliph himself, who all the time ceased not\nto honour the memory of Fetnah with his tears, and would not hear of\nany business.\n\nThe last day of the month, the prayers and reading of the Koran\nlasted from morning till break of day the next morning; and at\nlength, when all was done, every man returned home. Haroun\nAlraschid, being tired with sitting up so long, went to take some\nrest in his apartment, and fell asleep on a sofa, between two of the\ncourt ladies, one of them sitting at the bed\u2019s head, and the other\nat the feet, who, whilst he slept, were working some embroidery, and\nobserved a profound silence.\n\nShe who sat at the bed\u2019s head, and whose name was Nouron-Nihar\n(that is, Dawn of the Day,) perceiving the caliph was asleep,\nwhispered to the other, called Negmatos Sohi (signifying\nMorning-Star,) There is great news! The commander of the believers,\nour master, will be overjoyed when he awakes, and hears what I have\nto tell him: Fetnah is not dead; she is in perfect health. O\nheavens! cried Morning-Star, in a transport of joy, is it possible\nthat the beautiful, the charming, the incomparable Fetnah, should be\nstill among the living? Morning Star uttered these words with so\nmuch vivacity, and so loud, that the caliph awaked. He asked why\nthey had disturbed his rest? Alas! my sovereign lord, answered\nMorning-Star, pardon me this indiscretion; I could not without\ntransport hear that Fetnah is still alive; it caused such emotion in\nme, that I could not conceal it. What then is become of her, said\nthe caliph, if she is not dead? Chief of the believers, replied Dawn\nof the Day, I this evening received a note, not signed, from a\nperson unknown, but written with Fetnah\u2019s own hand, who gives me\nan account of her melancholy adventure, and orders me to acquaint\nyou with it. I thought fit, before I fulfilled my commission, to let\nyou take some few moments\u2019 rest, believing you must stand in need\nof it, after your fatigue; and-- Give me that note, said the caliph,\ninterrupting her eagerly; you were wrong to defer delivering it to\nme.\n\nDawn of the Day immediately presented to him the note, which he\nopened with much impatience, and in it Fetnah gave a particular\naccount of all that had befallen her, but enlarged a little too much\non the care Ganem took of her. The caliph, who was naturally\njealous, instead of being provoked at the inhumanity of Zobeide, was\nmore concerned at the infidelity he fancied Fetnah had been guilty\nof towards 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 are\npast since my return to Bagdad, and she now bethinks herself of\nsending me news of herself. Ungrateful creature! whilst I spend the\ndays in bewailing her, she passes them in betraying me. Go to; let\nus take vengeance of a false woman, and that bold youth who affronts\nme. Having spoken these words, that prince rose up, and went into a\ngreat hall where he used to appear in public, and give audience to\nthe great men of his court. The first gate was opened, and\nimmediately all the courtiers, who were waiting without, entered.\nThe grand vizier came in, and prostrated himself before the throne\nthe caliph sat on. Then rising, he stood before his master, who, in\na tone which denoted he would be instantly obeyed, said to him,\nGiafar, your presence is requisite for putting in execution an\nimportant affair I am about to commit to you. Take four hundred men\nof my guards along with you, and first inquire where a merchant of\nDamascus lives, whose name is Ganem, the son of Ayoub. When you have\nlearnt it, repair to his house, and cause it to be razed to the\nfoundation; but first secure Ganem, and bring him hither, with my\nslave Fetnah, who has lived with him these four months. I will\npunish her, and make an example of that insolent man, who has\npresumed to fail in respect to me.\n\nThe grand vizier having received this positive command, made a low\nbow to the caliph, having his hand on his head, in token that he\nwould rather lose it than disobey him, and departed. The first thing\nhe did was to send to the syndic of the dealers in foreign stuffs\nand fine silks for the new ones bought of Ganem, with strict orders,\nabove all things, to find out the street and house he lived in. The\nofficer he sent with these orders brought him back word, that he had\nscarce been seen for some months, and no man knew what could keep\nhim at home, if he was there. The same officer likewise told Giafar\nwhere Ganem lived, and the name of the widow who had let him the\nhouse.\n\nUpon this exact information, that minister, without losing time,\nmarched with the soldiers the caliph had ordered him to take, went\nto the judge of the police, whom he caused to bear him company, and\nattended by a great number of carpenters and masons, with the\nnecessary tools for razing a house, came to that where Ganem lived;\nand finding it stood single, he posted his soldiers round it, to\nprevent the young merchant\u2019s 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 draw near, with all his\nattendants, she concluded she was their object as well as Ganem. She\nperceived her note had been received, but had not expected such an\nanswer, having hoped that the caliph would have taken the matter in\na different light. She knew not how long that prince had been come\nhome; and though she was acquainted with his jealous temper, yet she\napprehended nothing on that account. However, the sight of the grand\nvizier and the soldiers made her tremble, not indeed for herself,\nbut for Ganem; she did not question clearing herself, provided the\ncaliph would but hear her. As for Ganem, whom she loved less out of\ngratitude than inclination, she plainly foresaw that his incensed\nrival would see, and might be apt to condemn him, upon account of\nhis youth and person. Full of that thought, she turned to the young\nmerchant, and said, Alas! Ganem, we are undone! it is you and I that\nare sought after. He presently looked through the lattice, and was\nseized with dread when he beheld the caliph\u2019s guards, with their\nnaked scimitars, and the grand vizier, with the civil magistrate, at\nthe head of them. At that sight he stood motionless, and had not\npower to utter one word. Ganem, said the favourite, there is no time\nto be lost; if you love me, put on the habit of one of your slaves\nimmediately, and daub your face and arms with soot; --then put some\nof these dishes on your head, you may be taken for a servant\nbelonging to the eating-house, and they will let you pass. If they\nhappen to ask you where the master of the house is, answer, without\nany hesitation, that he is within. Alas! madam, answered Ganem, less\nconcerned for himself than for Fetnah, you only take care of me\n--what will become of you? Let not that trouble you, replied Fetnah;\nit is my part to look to that. As for what you leave in this house,\nI will take care of it, and I hope it will be one day faithfully\nrestored to you, when the caliph\u2019s anger shall be over; but do you\navoid his fury. The orders he gives in the heat of passion are\nalways fatal. The young merchant\u2019s affliction was so great, that\nhe knew not what course to fix upon, and would certainly have\nsuffered himself to have been seized by the caliph\u2019s soldiers, had\nnot Fetnah pressed him to disguise himself. He submitted to her\npersuasions, put on the habit of a slave, daubed himself with soot;\nand it was high time, for they were knocking at the door, and all\nthey could do was to embrace each other tenderly. They were both so\noverwhelmed with sorrow, that they could not utter one word. Thus\nthey parted. Ganem went out with some dishes on his head; he was\ntaken for the servant of an eating house, and nobody offered to stop\nhim. On the contrary, the grand vizier, who was the first that met\nhim, gave way and let him pass, little thinking that he was the man\nhe looked for. Those who were behind the grand vizier made way as he\nhad done, and thus favoured his escape. He got speedily to one of\nthe city gates, and so clear away.\n\nWhilst he was making the best of his way from the grand vizier\nGiafar, that minister came into the room where Fetnah was sitting on\na sofa, and where there were many chests full of Ganem\u2019s 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 fell\nflat on her face, and continuing in that posture, as it were, ready\nto receive her death, My lord, said she, I am ready to undergo the\nsentence passed against me by the commander of the believers; you\nneed only make it known to me. Madam, answered Giafar, falling also\ndown till she had raised herself, God forbid any man should presume\nto lay profane hands on you. I do not intend to offer you the least\nharm. I have no farther orders than to entreat you will be pleased\nto go with me to the palace, and to conduct you thither, with the\nmerchant that lives in this house. My lord, replied the favourite,\nlet us go; I am ready to follow you. As for the young merchant, to\nwhom I am indebted for my life, he is not here; he has been gone\nabout a month since to Damascus, whither his business called him,\nand he has left these chests you see under my care till he returns.\nI conjure you to cause them to be carried to the palace, and order\nthem to be secured, that I may perform the promise I made him to\ntake all possible care of them.\n\nYou shall be obeyed, said Giafar; and immediately sent for porters,\nwhom he commanded to take up the chests, and carry them to Mesrour.\n\nAs soon as the porters were gone, he whispered the civil magistrate,\ncommitting to him the care of seeing the house razed, but first to\ncause diligent search to be made for Ganem, who, he suspected, might\nbe hid, notwithstanding what Fetnah had told him. Then he went out,\ntaking this young lady with him, attended by the two slaves that\nwaited on her. As for Ganem\u2019s slaves, they were not regarded; they\nran in among the crowd, and it was not known what became of them.\n\nNo sooner was Giafar out of the house, than the masons and\ncarpenters began to raze it, and did their business so effectually,\nthat, in a few hours, none of it remained. But the civil magistrate,\nnot finding Ganem, after the strictest search, sent to acquaint the\ngrand vizier with it, before that minister reached the palace. Well,\nsaid Haroun Alraschid, seeing him come into his closet, have you\nexecuted my orders? Yes, sir, answered Giafar; the house Ganem lived\nin is levelled with the ground, and I have brought you your\nfavourite Fetnah; she is at your closet door, and I will call her\nin, if you command me. As for the young merchant, we could not find\nhim, though every place has been searched; and Fetnah affirms that\nhe has been gone a month to Damascus.\n\nNever was any man in such a passion as the caliph, when he heard\nthat Ganem had made his escape. As for his favourite, being\npossessed that she had been false to him, he would neither see nor\nspeak to her. Mesrour, said he to the chief of the eunuchs, who was\nthen present, take the ungrateful, the perfidious Fetnah, and go\nshut her up in the dark tower. That tower was within the precinct of\nthe palace, and commonly served as a prison for the favourites who\nany way offended the caliph.\n\nMesrour being used to execute his sovereign\u2019s orders, though never\nso unjust, without making any answer, obeyed this with some\nreluctance. He signified his concern to Fetnah, who was the more\ngrieved at it, because she had reckoned that the caliph would not\nrefuse to speak to her. She was obliged to submit to her hard fate,\nand to follow Mesrour, who conducted her to the dark tower, and\nthere left her.\n\nIn the mean time, the enraged caliph dismissed his grand vizier,\nand, only hearkening to his passion, writ the following letter with\nhis own hand to the king of Syria, his cousin and tributary who\nresided at Damascus:--\n\n\n\n\nThe Letter from the Caliph Haroun Alraschid to Mohammed Zinebi, King\nof Syria.\n\n\n\u2018Cousin,\n\n\u2018This letter is to inform you, that a merchant of Damascus, whose\nname is Ganem, the son of Abou Ayoub, has seduced the most amiable\nof my women slaves, called Fetnah, and is fled. It is my will, that\nwhen you have read my letter, you cause search to be made for Ganem,\nand secure him. When he is in your power, you shall cause him to be\nloaded with irons, and, for three days successively, let him receive\nfifty strokes with a bull\u2019s pizzle. Then let him be led through\nall parts of the city, with a crier, crying, This is the smallest\npunishment the commander of the believers inflicts on him that\noffends his lord, and debauches one of his slaves. After that, you\nshall send him to me under a strong guard. It is my will that you\ncause his house to be plundered; and when it shall be razed, order\nthe materials to be carried out of the city into the middle of the\nplain. Besides this, if he has father, mother, sister, wives,\ndaughters, or other kindred, cause them to be stripped; and when\nthey are naked, expose them three days to the whole city, forbidding\nany person, on pain of death, to afford them any shelter. I expect\nyou will without delay execute my command.\n\n    \u2018Haroun Alraschid.\u2019\n\nThe caliph having written this letter, sent it away by an express,\nordering him to make all possible speed, and to take pigeons along\nwith him, that he might the sooner hear what had been done by\nMohammed Zinebi.\n\nThe pigeons of Bagdad have this peculiar quality, that, though they\nbe carried never so far, they return to Bagdad as soon as they are\nturned loose, especially when they have young ones. A letter rolled\nup is made fast under their wing, and by that means, advice is\nspeedily received from such places as it is desired.\n\nThe caliph\u2019s courier travelled night and day, as his master\u2019s\nimpatience required; and being come to Damascus, went directly to\nking Zinebi\u2019s palace, who sat upon his throne to receive the\ncaliph\u2019s letter. The courier having delivered it, Mohammed,\nlooking upon it, and knowing the hand, stood up to show his respect,\nkissed the letter, and laid it on his head, to denote he was ready\nsubmissively to obey the orders contained in it. He opened it, and\nhaving read it, immediately descended from his throne, and, without\nlosing time, mounted on horseback, with the principal officers of\nhis household. He also sent for the civil magistrate, who came to\nhim; and then he went directly to Ganem\u2019s house, attended by all\nhis guards.\n\nThat young merchant\u2019s mother had never heard or received any\nletter from him since he left Damascus; but the other merchants with\nwhom he went to Bagdad were returned, and all of them told her they\nhad left her son in perfect health. However, seeing he did not\nreturn himself, and neglecting to write, the tender mother could not\nbut be persuaded that he was dead, and was so fully convinced of it\nin her imagination, that she went into mourning. She bewailed Ganem\nas if she had seen him die, and had herself closed his eyes; never\nmother expressed greater sorrow; and so far was she from seeking any\ncomfort, that she delighted in indulging her sorrow. She caused a\ndome to be built in the middle of the court belonging to her house,\nin which she placed a figure representing her son, and covered it\nwith black cloth. She spent the greatest part of the days and nights\nin weeping under that dome, as if her son had been buried there; the\nbeautiful Alcolomb, or Ravisher of Hearts, her daughter, bore her\ncompany, and mixed her tears with hers.\n\nIt was now some time since they had thus devoted themselves to\nsorrow, and since the neighbourhood, hearing their cries and\nlamentations, pitied such tender relations, when king Mohammed\nZinebi knocked at the door, which being opened by a slave belonging\nto the family, he went briskly into the house, inquiring for Ganem,\nthe son of Abou Ayoub.\n\nThough the slave had never seen king Zinebi, she easily guessed by\nhis retinue that this must be one of the principal officers in\nDamascus. My lord, said she, that Ganem you inquire for is dead; my\nmistress, his mother, is in that monument you see there, actually\nlamenting the loss of him. The king, not regarding what was said by\nthe slave, caused all the house to be diligently searched by his\nguards for Ganem. Then he advanced towards the monument, where he\nsaw the mother and daughter sitting on a mat by the figure which\nrepresented Ganem, and their faces appeared to him bathed in tears.\nThese poor women immediately veiled themselves as soon as they\nbeheld a man at the door of the dome; but the mother, knowing the\nking of Damascus, got up, and ran to cast herself at his feet. My\ngood lady, said he, I was looking for your son Ganem; is he here?\nAlas! sir, cried the mother, it is a long time since he has ceased\nto be; would to God I had at least put him into his coffin with my\nown hands, and had the comfort of having his bones in this monument!\nO my son, my dear son! She would have said more, but was oppressed\nwith so violent sorrow, that she was not able.\n\nZinebi was moved, for he was a prince of a mild nature, and had much\ncompassion for the sufferings of the unfortunate. If Ganem alone is\nguilty, thought he to himself, why should the mother and the\ndaughter, who are innocent, be punished? Ah! cruel Haroun Alraschid!\nwhat a mortification do you put upon me, in making me the\nexecutioner of your vengeance, obliging me to persecute persons who\nhave not offended you!\n\nThe guards whom the king had ordered to search for Ganem came and\ntold him their search was without any success. He was fully\nconvinced of this --the tears of those two women would not leave him\nany room to doubt. It distracted him to be obliged to execute the\ncaliph\u2019s order. My good lady, said he to Ganem\u2019s mother, come\nout of this monument with your daughter; it is no place of safety\nfor you. They went out, and he, to secure them against any insult,\ntook off his own robe, which was very large, and covered them both\nwith it, bidding them keep close to him. Then he ordered the\npopulace to be let in to plunder, which was performed with the\nutmost rapaciousness, and with shouts, which terrified Ganem\u2019s\nmother and sister the more, because they knew not the reason of it.\nThe rabble carried off the richest goods, chests full of wealth, the\nfine Persian and Indian carpets, cushions covered with cloth of gold\nand silver, fine china ware; in short, all was taken away; nothing\nwas left but the bare walls of the house; and it was a dismal\nspectacle for the unhappy ladies to see all their goods plundered,\nwithout knowing why they were so cruelly treated.\n\nWhen the house was plundered, Mohammed ordered the civil magistrate\nto raze the house and monument; and while that was doing, he carried\naway Alcolomb and her mother to his palace. There it was he\nredoubled their affliction, acquainting them with the caliph\u2019s\nwill. He commands me, said he to them, to cause you to be stripped,\nand exposed stark naked for three days to the view of the people. It\nis with the utmost reluctance that I execute that cruel and\nignominous sentence. The king delivered these words with such an\nair, as plainly made it appear his heart was really pierced with\ngrief and compassion. Though the fear of being dethroned prevented\nhis following the dictates of his pity, yet he in some measure\nmoderated the rigour of Haroun Alraschid\u2019s orders, causing large\nshifts, without sleeves, to be made of coarse horsehair for\nGanem\u2019s mother and his sister Alcolomb.\n\nThe next day, these two victims of the caliph\u2019s rage were stripped\nof their clothes, and their horse-hair shifts put upon them; their\nhead-dress was also taken away, so that their dishevelled hair hung\nfloating on their backs. Alcolomb had the finest hair in the world,\nand it hung down to the ground. In that condition they were exposed\nto the people. The civil magistrate, attended by his officers, went\nalong with them, and they were conducted through the city. A crier\nwent before them, who every now and then cried, \u2018This is the\npunishment due to those who have drawn on themselves the indignation\nof the commander of the believers.\u2019\n\nWhilst they walked in this manner along the streets of Damascus,\nwith their arms and feet naked, clad in such a strange garment, and\nendeavouring to hide their confusion under their hair, with which\nthey covered their faces, all the people were dissolved in tears;\nmore especially the ladies, looking on them as innocent persons,\nthrough their lattice-windows, and being particularly moved by\nAlcolomb\u2019s youth and beauty, made the air ring with their dreadful\nshrieks as they passed before their houses. The very children,\nfrightened at those shrieks, and at the spectacle that occasioned\nthem, mixed their cries with that general lamentation, and added new\nhorror to it. In short, had an enemy been in Damascus, putting all\nto fire and sword, the consternation could not have been greater.\n\nIt was near night when that dismal scene concluded. The mother and\ndaughter were both conducted back to king Mohammed\u2019s palace. Not\nbeing used to walk barefoot, they were so spent, that they lay a\nlong time in a swoon. The queen of Damascus, highly afflicted at\ntheir misfortune, notwithstanding the caliph\u2019s prohibition to\nrelieve them, sent some of her women to comfort them, with all sorts\nof refreshments and wine to recover their spirits.\n\nThe queen\u2019s women found them still in a swoon, and almost past\nreceiving any benefit by what they offered them. However, with much\ndifficulty, they were brought to themselves. Ganem\u2019s mother\nimmediately returned them thanks for their courtesy. --My good\nladies, said one of the queen\u2019s ladies to her, we are highly\nconcerned at your affliction, and the queen of Syria, our mistress,\nhas done us a favour in employing us to assist you. We can assure\nyou, that princess is much afflicted at your misfortunes, as well as\nthe king her consort. Ganem\u2019s mother entreated the queen\u2019s women\nto return her majesty a thousand thanks from her and her daughter\nAlcolomb; and then directing her discourse to the lady that spoke to\nher, Madam, said she to her, the king has not told me why the chief\nof the believers inflicts so many outrages on us; pray be pleased to\ntell us what crimes we have been guilty of. My good lady, answered\nthe other, the origin of your misfortunes proceeds from your son\nGanem. He is not dead, as you imagine. He is accused of having\nstolen the beautiful Fetnah, the best beloved of all the king\u2019s\nfavourites; and he having, by timely flight, withdrawn himself from\nthat prince\u2019s indignation, the punishment is fallen on you. All\nthe world condemns the caliph\u2019s resentment, but all the world\nfears him; and you see king Zinebi himself dares not resist his\norders, for fear of incurring his displeasure. All we can do is to\npity you, and exhort you to have patience.\n\nI know my son, answered Ganem\u2019s mother; I have educated him very\ncarefully and in that respect which is due to the commander of the\nbelievers. He has not committed the crime he is accused of: I dare\nanswer for his innocence. But I will give over murmuring and\ncomplaining, since it is for him that I suffer, and he is not dead.\nO Ganem! added she, in a transport of love and joy, my dear son\nGanem! is it possible that you are still alive? I am no longer\nconcerned for the loss of my goods; and how extravagant soever the\ncaliph\u2019s orders may be, I forgive him all the severity of them,\nprovided Heaven has preserved my son. I am only concerned for my\ndaughter; her sufferings alone afflict me: yet I believe her to be\nso good a sister as to follow my example.\n\nAt hearing these words, Alcolomb, who, till then, had appeared\ninsensible, turned to her mother, and clasping her arms about her\nneck, Yes, dear mother, said she, I will always follow your example,\nwhatever extremity your love for my brother brings you to.\n\nThe mother and daughter thus interchanging their sighs and tears,\ncontinued a considerable time in such moving embraces. In the mean\ntime the queen\u2019s women, who were much moved at that spectacle,\nomitted no persuasions to prevail with Ganem\u2019s mother to take some\nsustenance. She eat a morsel out of complaisance, and Alcolomb did\nthe like.\n\nThe caliph having ordered that Ganem\u2019s kindred should be exposed\nthree days successively to the sight of the people in the condition\nalready mentioned, Alcolomb and her mother afforded the same\nspectacle the second time next day, from morning till night. But\nthat day and the following, things did not pass after the same\nmanner: the streets, which at first had been full of people, were\nnow quite empty. All the merchants, incensed at the ill usage of\nAbou Ayoub\u2019s widow and daughter, shut up their shops and kept\nthemselves close within their houses. The ladies, instead of looking\nthrough their lattice windows, withdrew into the back parts of their\nhouses. There was not a soul to be seen in the public places those\nunfortunate women were carried through. It looked as if all the\ninhabitants of Damascus had abandoned their city.\n\nOn the fourth day, king Mahommed Zinebi, who was resolved punctually\nto obey the caliph\u2019s orders, though he did not approve of them,\nsent criers into all quarters of the city to make proclamation,\nstrictly forbidding all the inhabitants of Damascus, and strangers,\nof what condition soever, upon pain of death, and having their\nbodies cast to the dogs to be devoured, to receive Ganem\u2019s mother\nand sister into their houses, or to give them a morsel of bread or a\ndrop of water, and, in a word, to afford them the least support, or\nhold the least correspondence with them.\n\nWhen the criers had performed what the king had enjoined them, that\nprince ordered the mother and the daughter to be turned out of the\npalace, and left to their choice to go where they thought fit. As\nsoon as they appeared, all persons fled from them, so great an\nimpression had the late prohibition made upon them all. They easily\nperceived that every body shunned them; but not knowing the reason\nof it, were much surprised; and their amazement was the greater,\nwhen coming into any street, or among many persons, they recollected\nsome of their best friends, who presently vanished with as much\nhaste as the rest. What is the meaning of this? said Ganem\u2019s\nmother; do we carry the plague about us? Must the unjust and\nbarbarous usage we have received render us odious to our\nfellow-citizens? Come, my child, added she, let us depart from\nDamascus with all speed; let us not stay any longer in a city where\nwe are become frightful to our very friends.\n\nThe two wretched ladies, discoursing after this manner, came to one\nof the extremities of the city, and retired to a ruined house, there\nto pass the night. Thither some Musselmen, out of charity and\ncompassion, resorted to them after the day was shut in. They carried\nthem provisions, but durst not stay to comfort them, for fear of\nbeing discovered, and punished for disobeying the caliph\u2019s orders.\n\nIn the mean time king Zinebi had let fly a pigeon to give Haroun\nAlraschid an account of his exact obedience. He informed him of all\nthat had been done, and conjured him to direct what he would have\ndone with Ganem\u2019s mother and sister. He soon received the\ncaliph\u2019s answer the same way, which was, that he banish them from\nDamascus for ever. Immediately the king of Syria sent men to the old\nhouse, with orders to take the mother and daughter, and to conduct\nthem three days journey from Damascus, and there to leave them,\nforbidding them ever to return to the city.\n\nZinebi\u2019s men executed their commission, but being less exact than\ntheir master, in the strict performance of every tittle of Haroun\nAlraschid\u2019s orders, they in pity gave Alcolomb and her mother some\nsmall pieces of money to buy them some subsistence, and each of them\na bag, which they hung about their necks, to carry their provisions.\n\nIn this miserable condition they came to the first village. The\npeasants\u2019 wives flocked about them, and as it appeared through\ntheir disguise that they were people of some fashion, they asked\nthem what was the occasion of their travelling after that manner, in\na habit that did not seem to belong to them. Instead of answering\nthe question put to them, they fell to weeping, which only served to\nheighten the curiosity of the peasants, and to move their\ncompassion. Ganem\u2019s mother told them what she and her daughter had\nendured; at which the good countrywomen were sensibly afflicted, and\nendeavoured to comfort them. They treated them as well as their\npoverty would permit, took off their horse-hair shifts, which were\nvery uneasy to them, and put on them others which they gave them,\nwith shoes, and something to cover their heads, and save their hair.\n\nHaving expressed their gratitude to those charitable women, Alcolomb\nand her mother departed from that village, taking short journeys\ntowards Aleppo. They used at night to retire near or into the\nmosques, where they passed the night on the mat, if there was any,\nor else on the bare pavement; and sometimes put up in the public\nplaces appointed for the use of travellers. As for sustenance, they\ndid not want it, for they often came to places where bread, boiled\nrice, and other provisions, are distributed to all travellers who\ndesire it.\n\nAt length they came to Aleppo, but would not stay there, and\ncontinuing their journey towards the Euphrates, crossed that river,\nand entered into 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 there, though they ought not to\nhave fancied that he was in the city where the caliph resided: but\nthey hoped, because they wished it; their affection for him\nincreasing instead of diminishing, in spite of their misfortunes.\nTheir conversation was generally about him, and they inquired for\nhim of all they met. But let us leave Alcolomb and her mother, and\nreturn to Fetnah.\n\nShe was still confined close in the dark tower, ever since the day\nthat had been so fatal to Ganem and her. However, as disagreeable as\nher prison was to her, it was much less grievous than the thoughts\nof Ganem\u2019s misfortune, the uncertainty of whose fate was a killing\naffliction to her. There was scarce a moment in which she did not\nlament him.\n\nThe caliph was accustomed to walk frequently at night within the\nenclosure of his palace, for he was the most inquisitive prince in\nthe world, and sometimes by those night-walks, he came to the\nknowledge of things that happened in his palace, which would\notherwise never have come to his ear: one of those nights, in his\nwalk, he happened to pass by the dark tower, and fancying he heard\nsomebody talk, he stopt, and drew near the door to listen, and\ndistinctly heard these words, which Fetnah, whose thoughts were\nalways on Ganem, uttered with a loud voice: O Ganem, too unfortunate\nGanem! where are you at this time? whither has thy cruel fate led\nthee? Alas! it is I that have made you wretched! Why did you not let\nme perish miserably, rather than afford me your generous relief?\nWhat melancholy reward have you received for your care and respect!\nThe commander of the faithful, who ought to have rewarded,\npersecutes you; and in return for having always regarded me as a\nperson reserved for his bed, you lose all your goods, and are\nobliged to seek for safety in flight. O caliph, barbarous caliph,\nwhat will you say for yourself, when you shall appear with Ganem\nbefore the tribunal of the Supreme Judge, and the angels shall\ntestify the truth before your face? All the power you are now\ninvested with, and which makes almost the whole world tremble, will\nnot prevent your being condemned and punished for your violent and\nunjust proceedings. Here Fetnah ceased her complaints, her sighs and\ntears putting a stop to her utterance.\n\nThis was enough to make the caliph reflect. He plainly perceived,\nthat if what he heard was true, his favourite must be innocent, and\nthat he had been too hasty in giving such orders against Ganem and\nhis family. Being resolved to be rightly informed in an affair which\nso nearly concerned him in point of equity, on which he valued\nhimself, he immediately returned to his apartment, and that moment\nordered Mesrour to repair to the dark tower, and bring Fetnah to him.\n\nBy this command, and much more by the caliph\u2019s manner of speaking,\nthe chief of the eunuchs guessed that his master designed to pardon\nhis favourite, and take her to himself again. He was overjoyed at\nit, for he loved Fetnah, and had been much concerned at her\ndisgrace; and therefore flying instantly to the tower, Madam, said\nhe to the favourite, with such an air as expressed his satisfaction,\nbe pleased to follow me; I hope you will never more return to this\nvile dark tower: the commander of the faithful wishes to speak with\nyou, and I draw from it a happy omen.\n\nFetnah followed Mesrour, who conducted her into the caliph\u2019s\ncloset. She prostrated herself before that prince, and so continued,\nher face bathed in tears. Fetnah, said the caliph, without bidding\nher rise, I think you charge me with violence and injustice. Who is\nhe, that notwithstanding the regard and respect he had for me, is in\na miserable condition? Speak freely; you know the natural goodness\nof my disposition, and that I love to do justice.\n\nBy these words the favourite saw plainly that the caliph had heard\nwhat she had said, and laying hold on so favourable an opportunity\nto clear her dear Ganem, Commander of the true believers, said she,\nif I have let fall any word that is not agreeable to your majesty, I\nmost humbly beseech you to forgive me; but he whose innocence and\nwretched state you desire to be informed of, is Ganem, the unhappy\nson of Abou Ayoub, merchant of Damascus. He is the man that saved my\nlife, and afforded me a safe sanctuary in his house. I must own,\nthat, from the first moment he saw me, he perhaps designed to devote\nhimself to me, and conceived hopes of engaging me to admit his\nservices. I guessed at this, by the eagerness he showed in\nentertaining me, and doing me all the good offices which I wanted\nunder the circumstances I was then in; but as soon as he heard that\nI had the honour to belong to you, Ah, madam, said he, that which\nbelongs to the master is forbidden to the slave. From that moment, I\nowe this justice to his virtue, his behaviour was always suitable to\nhis words. However, you, commander of the true believers, well know\nwith what rigour you have treated him, and you will answer for it\nbefore the tribunal of God.\n\nThe caliph was not displeased with Fetnah for the freedom of those\nwords; but may I, answered he, rely on the assurance you give me of\nGanem\u2019s virtue? Yes, replied Fetnah, you may. I would not for the\nworld conceal the truth from you: and to prove to you that I am\nsincere, I must make a confession to you, which perhaps may\ndisplease you; but I beg pardon of your majesty beforehand. Speak,\ndaughter, said Haroun Alraschid; I forgive you all, provided you\nconceal nothing from me. Well, then, replied Fetnah, let me inform\nyou, that Ganem\u2019s respectful behaviour, joined to all the good\noffices he did me, gained him my esteem. I went farther yet: you\nknow the tyranny of love. I felt some tender inclination rising in\nmy breast. He perceived it, but far from availing himself of my\nfrailty, and notwithstanding the flame which consumed him, he still\nremained steady in his duty; and all that his passion could force\nfrom him was those words I have already told your majesty; \u2018That\nwhich belongs to the master is forbidden to the slave.\u2019\n\nThis ingenuous confession might have provoked any other man than the\ncaliph; but it completely appeased that prince. He commanded her to\nrise, and making her sit by him, Tell me your story, said he, from\nthe beginning to the end. She did so with much art and spirit,\npassing slightly over what regarded Zobeide and enlarging on the\nobligation she owed to Ganem; the expense he had been at for her;\nand above all, she highly extolled his discretion, endeavouring by\nthat means to make the caliph sensible that she had been under the\nnecessity of remaining concealed in Ganem\u2019s house, to deceive\nZobeide. She concluded with the young merchant\u2019s escape, which she\nplainly told the caliph she had compelled him to, that he might\navoid his indignation.\n\nWhen she had done speaking, that prince said to her, I believe all\nyou have told me; but why was it so long before you let me hear from\nyou? Was there any need of staying a whole month after my return,\nbefore you sent me word where you were? Commander of the true\nbelievers, answered Fetnah, Ganem went abroad so very seldom, that\nyou need not wonder we were not the first that heard of your return.\nBesides that, Ganem, who took upon him to deliver the letter I wrote\nto Nouron Nihar, was a long time before he could find an opportunity\nof putting it into her own hands.\n\nIt is enough, Fetnah, replied the caliph; I acknowledge my fault,\nand would willingly make amends for it, by heaping favours on that\nyoung merchant of Damascus. Consider, therefore, what I can do for\nhim. Ask what you think fit, and I will grant it. Hereupon the\nfavourite fell down at the caliph\u2019s feet, with her face to the\nground; and rising again, said, Commander of the true believers,\nafter returning your majesty thanks for Ganem, I most humbly intreat\nyou to cause it to be published throughout your dominions, that you\npardon the son of Abou Ayoub, and that he may safely come to you. I\nwill do more, rejoined that prince; in requital for having saved\nyour life, and the respect he has shown me, to make amends for the\nloss of his goods, and in short, to repair the wrong I have done to\nhis family, I give him to you for a husband. Fetnah had not words\nexpressive enough to thank the caliph for his generosity: she then\nwithdrew into the apartment she had occupied before her melancholy\nadventure. The same furniture was still in it; nothing had been\nremoved: but that which pleased her most, was to find there\nGanem\u2019s chests and packs, which Mesrour had taken care to convey\nthither.\n\nThe next day Haroun Alraschid 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 effect,\nfor a long time elapsed without any news of that young merchant\nFetnah concluded, that he had not been able to survive the pain of\nlosing her. A dreadful uneasiness seized her mind; but as hope is\nthe last thing which forsakes lovers, she entreated the caliph to\ngive her leave to seek for Ganem herself; which being granted, she\ntook a purse with a thousand pieces of gold out of her casket, and\nwent one morning out of the palace, mounted on a mule she had out of\nthe caliph\u2019s stables, very richly accoutred. Black eunuchs\nattended her, with their hands on each side upon the mule\u2019s rump.\n\nThus she went from mosque to mosque, bestowing her alms among the\ndevotees of the Mahometan religion, desiring their prayers for the\naccomplishment of an affair, on which the happiness of two persons,\nshe told them, depended. She spent the whole day and the thousand\npieces of gold in giving alms at the mosques, and returned to the\npalace 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 place where all the\njewellers\u2019 shops were, and stopping at the door without alighting,\nsent one of her black eunuchs for the syndic or chief of them. That\nsyndic, who was a most charitable man, and spent above two-thirds of\nhis income in relieving poor strangers, whether they happened to be\nsick or in distress, did not make Fetnah wait, knowing by her dress\nthat she was a lady belonging to the palace. I apply myself to you,\nsaid she, putting the purse into his hands, as a person whose piety\nis cried up throughout the city. I desire you to distribute that\ngold among the poor strangers you relieve; for I know you make it\nyour business to assist poor strangers who apply to your charity. I\nam also satisfied that you prevent their wants, and that nothing is\nmore agreeable to you than to have an opportunity of relieving their\nmisery. Madam, answered the syndic, I shall obey your commands with\npleasure, but if you desire to exercise your charity in person, and\nwill be pleased to step to my house, you will there see two women\nworthy of your compassion: I met them yesterday as they were coming\ninto the city; they were in a deplorable condition, and it moved me\nthe more, because I thought they were persons of rank. --Through all\nthe rags that covered them, notwithstanding the impression the sun\nhas made on their faces, I discovered a noble air, not to be\ncommonly found in those poor people I relieve. I carried them both\nto my house, and delivered them to my wife, who was of the same\nopinion with me. She caused her slaves to provide them good beds,\nwhilst she herself washed their faces, and gave them clean linen. We\nknow not as yet who they are, because we wish to let them take some\nrest 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 give\nhim the trouble, and was satisfied that a slave of his should show\nher the way. She alighted at the door, and followed the syndic\u2019s\nslave, who was gone before to give notice to his mistress, she being\nthen in the chamber with Alcolomb and her mother; for they were the\npersons the syndic had been speaking of to Fetnah.\n\nThe syndic\u2019s wife, being informed by the slave that a lady from\nthe palace was in her house, was going out of the room to meet her;\nbut Fetnah, who had followed the slave close, did not give her time:\nand coming into the chamber, the syndic\u2019s wife prostrated herself\nbefore her, to express the respect she had for all that belonged to\nthe caliph. Fetnah took her up, and said, My good lady, I desire you\nwill let me speak with those two strangers that arrived at Bagdad\nlast night. Madam, answered the syndic\u2019s wife, they lie in those\ntwo little beds you see close by each other. The favourite\nimmediately drew near the mother\u2019s, and viewing her carefully,\nGood woman, said she, I come to offer you my assistance: I have a\nconsiderable interest in this city, and may be of service to you and\nyour companion. Madam, answered Ganem\u2019s mother, I perceive by your\nobliging offers, that Heaven has not quite forsaken us, though we\nhad cause to believe it, after so many misfortunes as have befallen\nus. Having uttered these words, she wept so bitterly that Fetnah and\nthe syndic\u2019s wife could not forbear letting fall some tears.\n\nThe caliph\u2019s favourite having dried up here, said to Ganem\u2019s\nmother, Be so kind as to tell us your misfortune, and recount your\nstory. You cannot give the relation to any persons better disposed\nthan we are to use all possible means to comfort you. Madam, replied\nAbou Ayoub\u2019s disconsolate widow, a favourite of the commander of\nthe true believers, a lady whose name is Fetnah, is the occasion of\nall our misfortunes. These words were like a thunderbolt to the\nfavourite; but suppressing her agitation and concern, she suffered\nGanem\u2019s mother to proceed in the following manner:-- I am the\nwidow of Abou Ayoub, a merchant of Damascus: I had a son called\nGanem, who coming to trade at Bagdad, has been accused of having\ncarried off that Fetnah. The caliph has caused search to be made for\nhim every where, to put him to death; and not finding him, has\nwritten to the king of Damascus, to cause our house to be plundered\nand razed, and to expose my daughter and me three days successively\nstark-naked to the populace, and then to banish us out of Syria for\never. But how unworthy soever our usage has been, I should still be\ncomforted, were my son alive, and I could meet with him. What a\npleasure would it be for his sister and me to see him again!\nEmbracing him, we should forget the loss of our goods, and all the\nevils we have suffered for him. Alas! I am fully persuaded he is\nonly the innocent cause of them, and that he is no more guilty\ntowards the caliph than his sister and I.\n\nNo doubt of it, said Fetnah, interrupting her there, he is no more\nguilty than you are: I can assure you of his innocence; for I am\nthat very Fetnah you so much complain of; who, through some fatality\nin my stars, have occasioned you so many misfortunes. To me you must\nimpute the loss of your son, if he is no more; but if I have\noccasioned your misfortune, I can in some measure relieve it. I have\nalready justified Ganem to the caliph; that prince has caused it to\nbe proclaimed throughout his dominions, that he pardons the son of\nAbou Ayoub; and doubt not he will do you as much good as he has done\nyou harm. You are no longer his enemies. He waits for Ganem to\nrequite the service he has done me, by uniting our fortunes; he\ngives me to him for his consort; therefore look on me as your\ndaughter, and permit me to vow eternal friendship to you. Having so\nsaid, she bowed down on Ganem\u2019s mother, who was so astonished,\nthat she could return no answer. Fetnah held her a long time in her\narms, and only left her to run to the other bed to embrace Alcolomb,\nwho sitting up, held out her arms to receive her.\n\nWhen the caliph\u2019s charming favourite had given the mother and\ndaughter all the tokens of affection they could expect from\nGanem\u2019s wife, she said to them, Cease both of you to afflict\nyourselves: the wealth Ganem had in this city is not lost; it is in\nmy apartment in the palace: I know all the treasure of the world\ncannot comfort you without Ganem: I judge so of his mother and\nsister, if I may judge of them by myself. Blood is no less powerful\nthan love in great minds; but why should we despair of seeing him\nagain? We shall find him; the happiness of meeting with you makes me\nconceive fresh hopes. Perhaps this is the last day of your\nsufferings, and the beginning of a greater felicity than you enjoyed\nin Damascus, when Ganem was with you.\n\nFetnah would have gone on, when the syndic of the jewellers came in:\nMadam, said he to her, I come from seeing a very moving object; it\nis a young man, whom a camel-driver has just carried to the hospital\nat Bagdad: he was bound with cords on a camel, because he had not\nstrength enough to sit on him. They had already unbound him, and\nwere carrying him into the hospital, when I happened to pass by. I\nwent up to the young man, viewed him attentively, and fancied his\ncountenance was not altogether unknown to me. I asked him some\nquestions concerning his family and his country; but all the answers\nI could get were only sighs and tears. I took pity on him, and by\nbeing so much used to sick people, perceived that he had need to\nhave particular care taken of him. I would not permit him to be put\ninto the hospital; for I am too well acquainted with their way of\nmanaging the sick, and am sensible of the incapacity of the\nphysicians. I have caused him to be brought home to my house, by my\nslaves; and they are now, by my orders, in a private room where I\nplaced him, putting on some of my own linen, and treating him as\nthey would do me.\n\nFetnah\u2019s heart leaped at these words of the jeweller, and she felt\na sudden emotion, for which she could not account: Show me, said she\nto the syndic, into that sick man\u2019s room; I should be glad to see\nhim. The syndic conducted her, and whilst she was going thither,\nGanem\u2019s mother said to Alcolomb, Alas! daughter, wretched as that\nsick stranger is, your brother, if he be living, is not perhaps in a\nmore happy condition.\n\nThe caliph\u2019s favourite, coming into the chamber where the sick man\nwas, drew near the bed, in which the syndic\u2019s slaves had already\nlaid him. She saw a young man, whose eyes were closed, his\ncountenance pale, disfigured, and bathed in tears. She gazed\nearnestly on him, her heart beat, and she fancied she beheld Ganem;\nbut yet she would not believe her eyes. Though she found something\nof Ganem in the object she beheld, yet in other respects he appeared\nso different, that she durst not imagine it was he that lay before\nher. Unable, however, to withstand the earnest desire of being\nsatisfied, Ganem, said she, with a trembling voice, is it you I\nbehold? Having spoken these words, she stopped to give the young man\ntime to answer; but observing that he seemed insensible, Alas!\nGanem, added she, it is not you that I talk to. My imagination being\novercharged with your image, has given this stranger a deceitful\nresemblance. The son of Abou Ayoub, though never so sick, would know\nthe voice of Fetnah. At the name of Fetnah, Ganem (for it was really\nhe) opened his eyes, and turned his face towards the person that\nspoke to him; and knowing the caliph\u2019s favourite, Ah! madam, said\nhe, by what miracle --He could say no more; such a sudden transport\nof joy seized him, that he fainted away. Fetnah and the syndic did\nall they could to bring him to himself; but as soon as they\nperceived he began to revive, the syndic desired the lady to\nwithdraw, for fear lest the sight of her should heighten Ganem\u2019s\ndistemper.\n\nThe young man, having recovered his senses, looked all around, and\nnot seeing what he looked for, cried out, What is become of you,\ncharming Fetnah? Did you really appear before my eyes, or was it\nonly an illusion? No, sir, said the syndic, it was no illusion. It\nwas I that caused that lady to withdraw, but you shall see her\nagain, as soon as you are in a condition to bear her sight. You now\nstand in need of rest, and nothing ought to obstruct your taking it.\nThe situation of your affairs is altered, since you are, as I\nsuppose, that Ganem, in favour of whom the commander of the true\nbelievers has caused a proclamation to be made in Bagdad, declaring\nthat he forgives him what is passed. Be satisfied for the present\nwith knowing so much; the lady who just now spoke to you will\nacquaint you with the rest, therefore think of nothing but\nrecovering your health; I will contribute all in my power towards\nit. Having spoken these words, he left Ganem to take his rest, and\nwent himself to provide for him all such medicines as were proper to\nrecover his strength, exhausted by hard living and toil.\n\nDuring that time Fetnah was in the room with Alcolomb and her\nmother, where almost the same scene was acted over again; for when\nGanem\u2019s mother understood that the sick stranger whom the syndic\nhad just brought into his house was Ganem himself, she was so\noverjoyed, that she also swooned away; and when, with the assistance\nof Fetnah and the syndic\u2019s wife, she was again come to herself,\nshe would have got up, to go and see her son; but the syndic coming\nin, hindered her, representing that Ganem was so weak and emaciated,\nthat it would endanger his life to excite in him those emotions\nwhich must be the consequence of the unexpected sight of a beloved\nmother and sister. There was no occasion for the syndic\u2019s saying\nany more to Ganem\u2019s mother; as soon as she was told that she could\nnot converse with her son, without hazarding his life, she ceased\ninsisting to go and see him. Then Fetnah said, Let us bless Heaven\nfor having brought us all together into one place. I will return to\nthe palace to give the caliph an account of all these adventures,\nand to-morrow morning I will return to you. This said, she embraced\nthe mother and the daughter, and went away. As soon as she came to\nthe palace, she sent Mesrour to request a private audience of the\ncaliph, which was immediately granted; and being brought into that\nprince\u2019s closet, where he was alone, she prostrated herself at his\nfeet, with her hands on the ground, according to custom. He\ncommanded her to rise, and having made her sit down, asked whether\nshe had heard any news of Ganem? Commander of the true believers,\nsaid she, I have been so successful, that I have found him, as also\nhis mother and sister. The caliph was curious to know how she could\nfind them in so short a time, and she satisfied his curiosity,\nsaying so many things in commendation of Ganem\u2019s mother and\nsister, that he desired to see them, as well as the young merchant.\n\nThough Haroun Alraschid was passionate, and in his heat sometimes\nguilty of cruel actions; yet in return, he was just, and the most\ngenerous prince in the world, as soon as his anger was over, and he\nwas made sensible of the wrong he had done. Having therefore no\nlonger cause to doubt but that he had unjustly persecuted Ganem and\nhis family, and having publicly wronged them, he resolved to make\nthem public satisfaction. I am overjoyed, said he to Fetnah, that\nyour search has proved so successful; it is a mighty satisfaction to\nme, not so much for your sake as for my own. I will keep the promise\nI have made you. You shall marry Ganem, and I here declare you are\nno longer my slave; you are free. Go back to that young merchant,\nand as soon as he has recovered his health, you shall bring him to\nme, with his mother and sister.\n\nThe next morning early Fetnah repaired to the syndic of the\njewellers, being impatient to hear of Ganem\u2019s health, and to tell\nthe mother and daughter the good news she had for them. The first\nperson she met with was the syndic, who told her that Ganem had\nrested very well that night; and that his distemper proceeded\naltogether from melancholy, and the cause being removed, he would\nsoon recover his health.\n\nAccordingly the son of Abou Ayoub was much amended. Rest, and the\ngood medicines he had taken, but, above all, the different situation\nof his mind, had wrought so good an effect, that the syndic thought\nhe might without danger see his mother, his sister, and his\nmistress, provided he was prepared to receive them; because there\nwas ground to fear, that, not knowing his mother and sister were at\nBagdad, the sight of them might occasion too great surprise and joy.\nIt was therefore resolved, that Fetnah should first go alone into\nGanem\u2019s chamber, and then make a sign to the two other ladies to\nappear, when she thought it was proper.\n\nMatters being so ordered, the syndic announced Fetnah\u2019s coming to\nthe sick man, who was so transported to see her, that he was again\nnear fainting away. Well, Ganem, said she, drawing near to his bed,\nyou have again found your Fetnah, whom you thought you had lost for\never. Ah, madam, eagerly interrupting her, what miracle has restored\nyou to my sight? I thought you were in the caliph\u2019s palace; that\nprince has doubtless listened to you. You have dispelled his\njealousy, and he has restored you to his favour.\n\nYes, my dear Ganem, answered Fetnah, I have cleared myself before\nthe commander of the true believers, who, to make amends for the\nwrong he has done you, bestows me on you for a wife. These last\nwords occasioned such an excess of joy in Ganem, that he knew not\nfor a while how to express himself, otherwise than by that\npassionate silence so well known to lovers. At length he broke out\nin these words: Beautiful Fetnah, cried he, may I give credit to\nwhat you tell me? May I believe that the caliph really resigns you\nto Abou Ayoub\u2019s son? Nothing is more certain, answered the lady.\nThat prince, who before caused search to be made for you, to take\naway your life, and who in his fury caused your mother and your\nsister to suffer a thousand indignities, desires now to see you,\nthat he may reward the respect you had for him; and there is no\nquestion to be made but that he will load your family with his\nfavours.\n\nGanem asked what the caliph had done to his mother and sister, which\nFetnah told him; and he could not forbear letting fall some tears at\nthat relation, notwithstanding the thoughts which arose in his mind\nat the news of being married to his mistress. But when Fetnah\ninformed him that they were actually in Bagdad, and in the same\nhouse with him, he appeared so impatient to see them, that the\nfavourite could no longer defer giving him that satisfaction; and\naccordingly called them in. They were at the door, only waiting for\nthat moment. They came in, went up to Ganem, and embracing him in\ntheir turns, kissed him a thousand times. What tears were shed\namidst those embraces! Ganem\u2019s face was bathed with them, as well\nas his mother\u2019s and sister\u2019s; and Fetnah let fall abundance. The\nsyndic himself and his wife were so moved at the spectacle, that\nthey could not forbear weeping, nor sufficiently admire the secret\nworkings of Providence, which brought together into their house four\npersons, whom fortune had so cruelly parted.\n\nWhen they had all dried up their tears, Ganem drew fresh torrents,\nby the recital of all he had suffered from the day he left Fetnah\ntill the moment the syndic brought him to his house. He told them,\nthat having taken refuge in a small village, he there fell sick;\nthat some charitable peasants had taken care of him, but finding he\ndid not recover, a camel-driver had undertaken to carry him to the\nhospital at Bagdad. Fetnah also told them all the uneasiness of her\nimprisonment; how the caliph, having heard her talk in the tower,\nhad sent for her into his closet, and how she had cleared herself.\nIn conclusion, when they had related what accidents had befallen\nthem, Fetnah said, Let us bless Heaven, which has brought us all\ntogether again, and let us think of nothing but the happiness that\nattends us. As soon as Ganem has recovered his health, he must\nappear before the caliph, with his mother and sister; but as they\nare not in a condition to be seen, I will make some provision for\nthem. I desire you to stay a moment.\n\nThis said, she went away to the palace, and soon returned to the\nsyndic\u2019s with a purse containing a thousand pieces of gold, which\nshe delivered to the syndic, desiring him to buy clothes for the\nmother and daughter. The syndic, who was a man of good taste, chose\nsuch as were very handsome, and had them made up with all speed.\nThey were finished in three days, and Ganem finding himself strong\nenough to go abroad, prepared for it; but on the day he had\nappointed to pay his respects to the caliph, when he was making\nready, with his mother and sister, the grand vizier Giafar came to\nthe syndic\u2019s house.\n\nThat minister came on horseback, attended by a great number of\nofficers. Sir, said he to Ganem, as soon as he came in, I am come\nfrom the commander of the true believers, my master and yours; the\norders I have differ very much from those which I do not care to\nrevive in your memory; I am to bear you company, and to present you\nto the caliph, who is desirous to see you. Ganem returned no other\nanswer to the vizier\u2019s compliment, than by profoundly bowing his\nhead, and then mounted a horse brought from the caliph\u2019s stables,\nwhich he managed very gracefully. The mother and daughter were\nmounted on mules belonging to the palace, and whilst Fetnah on\nanother mule led them a by-way to the prince\u2019s court, Giafar\nconducted Ganem another way, and brought him into the hall of\naudience. The caliph was there sitting on his throne, encompassed\nwith emirs, viziers, and other attendants and courtiers, Arabs,\nPersians, Egyptians, Africans, and Syrians, of his own dominions,\nnot to mention strangers.\n\nWhen the vizier had conducted Ganem to the foot of the throne, that\nyoung merchant paid his obeisance, prostrating himself with his face\nto the ground, and then rising, made a handsome compliment in verse,\nwhich, though _extempore_, met with the approbation of the whole\ncourt. After his compliment, the caliph caused him to draw near, and\nsaid to him, I am glad to see you, and desire to hear from your own\nmouth where you found my favourite, and all that you have done for\nher. Ganem obeyed, and appeared so sincere, that the caliph was\nconvinced of his sincerity. That prince ordered a very rich vest to\nbe given him, according to the custom observed with those who are\nadmitted to audience. After which he said to him, Ganem, I will have\nyou live in my court. Commander of the true believers, answered the\nyoung merchant, a slave has no will but his master\u2019s, on whom his\nlife and fortune depend. The caliph was highly pleased with\nGanem\u2019s answer, and assigned him a considerable pension. Then the\nprince came down from his throne, and causing only Ganem and the\ngrand vizier to follow him, went into his own apartment.\n\nNot questioning but that Fetnah was there, with Abou Ayoub\u2019s widow\nand daughter, he caused them to be called in. They prostrated\nthemselves before him; he made them rise; and was so taken with\nAlcolomb\u2019s beauty, that after viewing her very attentively, he\nsaid, I am so sorry for having treated your charms so unworthily,\nthat I owe them such a satisfaction as may surpass the injury I have\ndone them. I take you to wife; and by that means shall punish\nZobeide, who shall become the first cause of your good fortune, as\nshe was of your past sufferings. This is not all, added he, turning\ntowards Ganem\u2019s mother: you are still young; I believe you will\nnot disdain to be allied to my grand vizier: I give you to Giafar,\nand you, Fetnah, to Ganem. Let a cadi and witnesses be called, and\nthe three contracts be drawn up and signed immediately. Ganem would\nhave represented to the caliph, that it would be honour enough for\nhis sister to be one of his favourites; but that prince was resolved\nto marry her.\n\nHe thought this such an extraordinary story, that he ordered a\nfamous historian to commit it to writing with all its circumstances.\nIt was afterwards laid up in his library, and many copies being\ntranscribed from that original, it became public.\n\nAfter Scheherazade had finished the history of Ganem, son of Abou\nAyoub, the sultan of the Indies expressed his satisfaction: Sir,\nsaid the sultaness, since this story has pleased you, I humbly\nintreat your majesty to be pleased to hear that of Zeyn Alasnam and\nthe King of the Genii, which will afford you equal pleasure:\nSchahriar consented; but as day began to appear, it was deferred\ntill the following night, when she began as follows:\n\n\n\n\nThe History of Prince Zeyn Alasnam and the King of the Genii.\n\n\nA king of Balsora, who possessed great wealth, and was well beloved\nby his subjects, had no children, which was a great affliction to\nhim; and therefore he made presents to all the holy persons in his\ndominions, to engage them to beg a son for him of heaven: and their\nprayers being effectual, the queen proved with child, and was\nhappily delivered of a prince, who was named Zeyn Alasnam, which\nsignifies Ornament of the Statues.\n\nThe king caused all the astrologers in his kingdom to be assembled,\nand ordered them to calculate the infant\u2019s nativity. They found by\ntheir observations that he would live long, and be very brave; but\nthat all his courage would be little enough to carry him through the\nmisfortunes that threatened him. The king was not daunted at this\nprediction: My son, said he, is not to be pitied, since he will be\nbrave: it is fit that princes should have a taste of misfortunes;\nfor adversity tries virtue, and they are the better qualified to\nreign.\n\nHe rewarded the astrologers, and dismissed them; and caused Zeyn to\nbe educated with the greatest care imaginable, appointing him able\nmasters as soon as he was of age to receive their instructions. In\nshort, he proposed to make him an accomplished prince, when on a\nsudden this good king fell sick of a distemper, which all the skill\nof his physicians could not cure. Perceiving his disease was mortal,\nhe sent for his son, and among other things advised him rather to\nendeavour to be beloved than to be feared by his people; not to give\near to flatterers; to be as slow in rewarding as in punishing,\nbecause it often happens that monarchs, misled by false appearances,\nload wicked men with favours, and oppress the innocent.\n\nAs soon as the king was dead, prince Zeyn went into mourning, which\nhe wore seven days, and the eighth he ascended the throne, taking\nhis father\u2019s seal off the royal treasury, and putting on his own,\nbeginning thus to taste the sweets of ruling, the pleasure of seeing\nall his courtiers bow down before him, and make it their whole study\nto show their zeal and obedience. In a word, the sovereign power was\ntoo agreeable to him. He only regarded what his subjects owed to\nhim, without considering what was his duty towards them, and\nconsequently took little care to govern them well. He wallowed in\nall sorts of debauchery among the voluptuous youth, on whom he\nconferred the prime employments of the kingdom. He lost all command\nof his power. Being naturally prodigal, he set no bounds to his\ngrants, so that his women and his favourites insensibly drained his\ntreasury.\n\nThe queen his mother was still living, a discreet wise princess. She\nhad several times unsuccessfully tried to check her son\u2019s\nprodigality and debauchery, giving him to understand, that, if he\ndid not soon take another course, he would not only squander his\nwealth, but would also alienate the minds of his people, and\noccasion some revolution, which perhaps might cost him his crown and\nhis life. What she had foretold was very near falling out: the\npeople began to murmur against the government, and their murmurs had\ncertainly been followed by a general revolt, had not the queen had\nthe address to prevent it. But that princess being acquainted with\nthe ill posture of affairs, informed the king, who at last suffered\nhimself to be prevailed upon. He committed the government to\ndiscreet aged men, who knew how to keep the people within the bounds\nof duty.\n\nZeyn, seeing all his wealth consumed, repented that he had made no\nbetter use of it. He fell into a deadly melancholy, and nothing\ncould comfort him. One night he saw in a dream a venerable old man\ncoming towards him, who with a smiling countenance said, Know, Zeyn,\nthat there is no sorrow but what is followed by mirth, no misfortune\nbut what in the end brings some happiness. If you desire to see the\nend of your affliction, get up, set out for Egypt, go to Grand\nCairo; a great fortune attends you there.\n\nThe prince, when he awaked in the morning, was struck with this\ndream, and spoke of it very seriously to his mother, who only\nlaughed at it. My son, said she to him, would you now go into Egypt\non the faith of that fine dream? Why not, madam? answered Zeyn: do\nyou imagine all dreams are chimerical? No, no, some of them are\nmysterious. My preceptors have told me a thousand stories, which\nwill not permit me to doubt of it. Besides, though I were not\notherwise convinced, I could not forbear giving some credit to my\ndreams. The old man that appeared to me had something supernatural:\nhe was not one of those men whom nothing but age makes venerable;\nthere appeared a divine air about his person. In short, he was such\na one as our great prophet is represented; and it you will have me\ntell you what I think, I believe it was he, who, pitying my\naffliction, designs to relieve it. I rely on the confidence he has\ninspired me with. I am full of his promises, and have resolved to\nfollow his advice. The queen endeavoured to dissuade him, but in\nvain. The prince committed to her the government of the kingdom, set\nout one night very privately from his palace, and took the road to\nCairo, without suffering any person to attend him.\n\nAfter much trouble and fatigue, he arrived at that famous city, like\nwhich there are few in the world, either for extent or beauty. He\nalighted at the gate of a mosque, where, being spent by weariness,\nhe lay down. No sooner was he fallen asleep, than he saw the same\nold man, who said to him, I am pleased with you, my son; you have\ngiven credit to my words. You have come hither without being\ndeterred by the length or the difficulties of the way: but know I\nhave not put you upon undertaking such a long journey with any other\ndesign than to try you. I find you have courage and resolution. You\ndeserve I should make you the richest and happiest prince in the\nworld. Return to Balsora, and you shall find immense wealth in your\npalace. No king ever possessed so much as there is.\n\nThe prince was not pleased with that dream. Alas! thought he to\nhimself, when he awaked, how much was I mistaken? That old man, whom\nI took for our prophet, is no other than the production of my\ndisturbed imagination. My fancy was so full of him, that it is no\nwonder I have seen him again. I had best return to Balsora: what\nshould I do here any longer? It is very happy that I told none but\nmy mother the motive of my journey: I should become a jest to my\npeople, if they knew it.\n\nAccordingly, he set out again for his kingdom, and as soon as he\narrived there, the queen asked him whether he returned well pleased?\nHe told her all that had happened, and was so much concerned for\nhaving been so credulous, that the queen, instead of adding to his\nvexation, by reproving or laughing at him, comforted him. Forbear\nafflicting yourself, my son, said she: if God has appointed you\nriches, you will have them without any trouble. Be easy; all that I\nrecommend to you is, to be virtuous; renounce the delights of\ndancing, music, and high coloured wine: shun all these pleasures;\nthey have already almost ruined you; apply yourself to make your\nsubjects happy; by securing their happiness, you will establish your\nown.\n\nPrince Zeyn swore he would for the future follow his mother\u2019s\nadvice, and be directed by the wise viziers she had made choice of\nto assist him in supporting the weight of the government. But the\nvery night after he returned to his palace, he saw the old man the\nthird time in a dream, who said to him, The time of your prosperity\nis come, brave Zeyn: to-morrow morning, as soon as you are up, take\na little pick-axe, and go dig in the late king\u2019s closet; you will\nthere find a mighty treasure.\n\nAs soon as the prince awaked, he got up, ran to the queen\u2019s\napartment, and with much eagerness told her the new dream of that\nnight. Really, my son, said the queen, smiling, that is a very\npositive old man; he is not satisfied with having deceived you\ntwice; have you a mind to believe him again? No, madam, answered\nZeyn, I give no credit to what he has said; but I will, for my own\nsatisfaction, search my father\u2019s closet. I really fancied so,\ncried the queen, laughing heartily; go, my son, satisfy yourself; my\ncomfort is, that work is not so fatiguing as the journey to Egypt.\n\nWell, madam, answered the king, I must own that this third dream has\nrestored my confidence, for it is connected with the two others: let\nus examine the old man\u2019s words. He first directed me to go into\nEgypt; there he told me he had put me upon taking that journey only\nto try me. Return to Balsora, said he; that is the place where you\nare to find treasures: this night he has exactly pointed out to me\nthe place where they are: these three dreams, in my opinion, are\nconnected. After all, they may be chimerical: but I would rather\nsearch in vain than blame myself as long as I live, for having\nperhaps missed of great riches by being unseasonably incredulous.\n\nHaving spoken these words, he left the queen\u2019s apartment, caused a\npick-axe to be brought him, and went alone into the late king\u2019s\ncloset. He fell to breaking up the ground, and took up above half\nthe square stones it was paved with, and yet saw not the least\nappearance of what he sought after. He ceased working to take a\nlittle rest, thinking within himself, I am much afraid my mother had\ncause enough to laugh at me. However, he took heart, and went on\nwith his labour, nor had he cause to repent; for on a sudden he\ndiscovered a white stone, which he took up, and under it found a\ndoor, made fast with a steel padlock; this he broke with the\npick-axe, and opened the door, which covered a staircase of white\nmarble. He immediately lighted a candle, and went down those stairs\ninto a room, the floor whereof was laid with tiles of china-ware,\nand the roof and walls were of crystal; but he particularly fixed\nhis eyes upon four shelves, a little raised above the rest of the\nfloor, on each of which there were ten urns of porphyry. He fancied\nthey were full of wine: Well, said he, that wine must be very old; I\ndo not question but it is excellent. He went up to one of the urns,\ntook off the cover, and with no less joy than surprise perceived it\nwas full of pieces of gold. [92] He searched all the forty, one\nafter another, and found them full of the same coin, took out a\nhandful, and carried it to the queen.\n\nThat princess, it may be imagined, was amazed when the king gave her\nan account of what he had seen. O! my son, said she, take heed you\ndo not lavish away all that treasure foolishly, as you have already\ndone the royal treasure. Let not your enemies have so much occasion\nto rejoice. No, madam, answered Zeyn, I will from henceforward live\nafter such a manner as shall be pleasing to you.\n\nThe queen desired the king her son to conduct her to that wonderful\nsubterraneous place, which the late king her husband had made with\nsuch secrecy, that she had never heard the least of it. Zeyn led her\nto the closet, down the marble stairs, and into the chamber where\nthe urns were. She observed every thing with the eye of curiosity,\nand in a corner spied a little urn of the same sort of stone as the\nothers. The prince had not before taken notice of it, but opening,\nfound in it a golden key. My son, said the queen, this key certainly\nbelongs to some other treasure: let us look all about; perhaps we\nmay discover the use it is designed for.\n\nThey examined the chamber with the utmost exactness, and at length\nfound a key-hole in one of the pannels of the wall, and guessed it\nto be that to which the key belonged. The king immediately tried,\nand as readily opened the door, which led into a chamber, in the\nmidst of which were nine pedestals of massy gold, on eight of which\nstood as many statues, each of them made of a single diamond, and\nfrom them came such a brightness, that the whole room was perfectly\nlight.\n\nO Heavens! cried Zeyn, in astonishment, where could my father find\nsuch rarities? The ninth pedestal redoubled this amazement, for it\nwas covered with a piece of white satin, on which were written these\nwords, \u2018Dear son, it cost me much toil to get these eight statues;\nbut though they are extraordinarily beautiful, you must understand\nthat there is a ninth in the world, which surpasses them all: that\nalone is worth more than a thousand such as these: if you desire to\nbe master of it, go to the city of Cairo in Egypt: one of my old\nslaves, whose name is Mobarec, [93] lives there; you will easily\nfind him; the first person you meet will show you his house; find\nhim out, and tell him all that has befallen you: he will know you to\nbe my son, and he will conduct you to the place where that wonderful\nstatue is, which you will get with safety.\u2019\n\nThe prince having read these words, said to the queen, I should be\nsorry to be without that ninth statue; it must certainly be a very\nrare piece, since all these together are not of so great value. I\nwill set out for Grand Cairo; nor do I believe, madam, that you will\noppose my design. No, my son, answered the queen, I am not against\nit: you are certainly under the special protection of our great\nprophet; he will not suffer you to perish in this journey. Set out\nwhen you think fit: your viziers and I will take care of the\ngovernment during your absence. The prince made ready his equipage,\nbut would take only a small number of slaves with him.\n\nNothing remarkable befell him by the way, but arriving at Cairo, he\ninquired for Mobarec. The people told him he was one of the\nwealthiest inhabitants of the city; that he lived like a great lord;\nand that his house was open, especially for strangers. Zeyn was\nconducted thither, knocked at the gate, which a slave opened, and\nsaid, What is it you want, and who are you? I am a stranger,\nanswered the prince, and having heard much of the lord Mobarec\u2019s\ngenerosity, am come to take up my lodging with him. The slave\ndesired Zeyn to stay awhile, and went to acquaint his master, who\nordered him to desire the stranger to walk in. The slave returned to\nthe gate, and told the prince he was welcome.\n\nZeyn went in, crossed a large court, and entered into a hall\nmagnificently furnished, where Mobarec expected him, and received\nhim very courteously, returning thanks for the honour he did him in\naccepting a lodging in his house. The prince, having answered his\ncompliment, said to Mobarec, I am son to the late king of Balsora,\nand my name is Zeyn Alasnam. That king, said Mobarec, was formerly\nmy master; but, my lord, I never knew of any children he had: what\nis your age? I am twenty years old, answered the prince. How long is\nit since you left my father\u2019s court? Almost two and twenty years,\nreplied Mobarec: but how can you convince me that you are his son?\nMy father, rejoined Zeyn, had a subterraneous place under his\ncloset, in which I have found forty porphyry urns of gold. And what\nmore is there? said Mobarec. There are, answered the prince, nine\npedestals of massive gold; on eight whereof there are eight diamond\nstatues; and on the ninth is a piece of white satin, on which my\nfather has written what I am to do to get another statue, more\nvaluable than all those together. You know where that statue is; for\nit is mentioned on the satin that you will conduct me to it.\n\nAs soon as he had spoke these words, Mobarec fell down at his feet,\nand kissing one of his hands several times, said, I bless God for\nhaving brought you hither: I know you to be the king of Balsora\u2019s\nson. If you will go to the place where the wonderful statue is, I\nwill conduct you; but you must first rest here a few days. This day\nI treat the great men of the court; we were at table when word was\nbrought me of your being at the door. Will you vouchsafe to come and\nbe merry with us? I shall be very glad, replied Zeyn, to be admitted\nto your feast. Mobarec immediately led him under a dome where the\ncompany was, seated him at the table, and served him on the knee.\nThe great men of Cairo were surprised, and whispered to one another,\nWho is this stranger, to whom Mobarec pays so much respect?\n\nWhen they had dined, Mobarec, directing his discourse to the\ncompany, said, Great men of Cairo, do not think much to see me serve\nthis young stranger after this manner; know that he is the son of\nthe king of Balsora, my master. His father purchased me with his\nmoney, and died without making me free; so that I am still a slave,\nand consequently all I have of right belongs to this young prince,\nhis sole heir. Here Zeyn interrupted him: Mobarec, said he, I\ndeclare, before all these lords, that I make you free from this\nmoment, and that I renounce all right to your person, and all you\npossess. Consider what you would have me do more for you. Mobarec\nthen kissed the ground, and returned the prince most hearty thanks.\nWine was then brought in; they drank all day; and towards the\nevening presents were distributed among the guests, who then went\naway.\n\nThe next day Zeyn said to Mobarec, I have taken rest enough. I came\nnot to Cairo to take my pleasure: my design is to get the ninth\nstatue; it is time for us to set out in search of it. Sir, said\nMobarec, I am ready to comply with your desires; but you know not\nwhat dangers you must encounter to make this precious conquest.\nWhatsoever the danger may be, answered the prince, I have resolved\nto undertake it: I will either perish or succeed. All that happens\nin this world is by God\u2019s direction. Do you but bear me company,\nand let your resolution be equal to mine.\n\nMobarec, finding him determined to set out, called his servants, and\nordered them to make ready his equipage. Then the prince and he\nperformed the ablution, or washing, and the prayer enjoined, which\nis called Farz; and that done, they set out. By the way they took\nnotice of abundance of strange and wonderful things, and travelled\nmany days; at the end whereof, being come to a delightful spot, they\nalighted from their horses. Then Mobarec said to all the servants\nthat attended them, Do you stay in this place, and take care of our\nequipage till we return. Then he said to Zeyn, Now, sir, let us two\ngo on by ourselves. We are near the dreadful place, where the ninth\nstatue is kept. You will stand in need of all your courage.\n\nThey soon came to a lake: Mobarec sat down on the brink of it,\nsaying to the prince, We must cross this sea. How can we cross it,\nanswered Zeyn, when we have no boat? You will see one appear in a\nmoment, replied Mobarec; the enchanted boat of the king of the genii\nwill come for us. But do not forget what I am going to say to you:\nyou must observe a profound silence: do not speak to the boatman,\nthough his figure seem never so strange to you: whatsoever\nextraordinary circumstance you observe, say nothing; for I tell you\nbeforehand, that if you utter the least word, when we are embarked,\nthe boat will sink down. I shall take care to hold my peace, said\nthe prince, you need only tell me what I am to do, and I will\nstrictly observe it.\n\nWhile they were talking, he spied on a sudden a boat in the lake,\nand it was made of red sandal wood. It had a mast of fine amber, and\na blue satin flag: there was only one boatman in it, whose head was\nlike an elephant\u2019s, and his body like a tiger\u2019s. When the boat\nwas come up to the prince and Mobarec, the monstrous boatman took\nthem up one after another with his trunk, and put them into his\nboat, and carried them over the lake in a moment. He then again took\nthem up with his trunk, set them on shore, and immediately vanished\nwith his boat.\n\nNow we may talk, said Mobarec: the island we are on belongs to the\nking of the genii; there are no more such in the world. Look round\nyou, prince: can there be a more delightful place? It is certainly a\nlively representation of the charming place God has appointed for\nthe faithful observers of our law. Behold the fields adorned with\nall sorts of flowers and odoriferous plants; admire those beautiful\ntrees, whose delicious fruit makes the branches bend down to the\nground; enjoy the pleasures of those harmonious songs formed in the\nair, by a thousand birds of as many various sorts unknown in other\ncountries. Zeyn could not sufficiently admire the beauties of those\nwith which he was surrounded, and still found something new, as he\nadvanced farther into the island.\n\nAt length they came before a palace made of fine emeralds,\nencompassed with a ditch, on the banks whereof at certain distances,\nwere planted such tall trees, that they shaded the whole palace.\nBefore the gate, which was of massy gold, was a bridge, made of one\nsingle shell of a fish, though it was at least six fathoms long, and\nthree in breadth. At the head of the bridge stood a company of\ngenii, of a prodigious height, who guarded the entrance into the\ncastle with great clubs of China steel.\n\nLet us go no farther, said Mobarec; these genii will knock us down:\nand in order to prevent their coming to us, we must perform a\nmagical ceremony. He then drew out of a purse, which he had under\nhis garment, four long slips of yellow taffety; one he put about his\nmiddle, and laid the other on his back, giving the other two to the\nprince, who did the like. Then Mobarec laid on the ground two large\ntable-cloths, on the edges whereof he scattered some precious\nstones, musk, and amber. Then he sat down on one of those cloths,\nand Zeyn on the other; and Mobarec said to the prince, I shall now,\nsir, conjure the king of the genii, who lives in the palace that is\nbefore us: may he come in a peaceable mood to us! I confess I am not\nwithout apprehension about the reception he may give us. If our\ncoming into this island is displeasing to him, he will appear in the\nshape of a dreadful monster; but if he approves of your design, he\nwill show himself in the shape of a handsome man. As soon as he\nappears before us, you must rise and salute him, without going off\nyour cloth; for you would certainly perish should you stir off it.\nYou must say to him, Sovereign lord of the genii, my father, who was\nyour servant, has been taken away by the angel of death: I wish your\nmajesty may protect me, as you always protected my father. If the\nking of the genii, added Mobarec, ask you what favour you desire of\nhim, you must answer, Sir, I must humbly beg of you to give me the\nninth statue.\n\nMobarec, having thus instructed prince Zeyn, began his conjuration.\nImmediately their eyes were dazzled with a long flash of lightning,\nwhich was followed by a clap of thunder. The whole island was\ncovered with a thick darkness, a furious storm of wind blew, a\ndreadful cry was heard, the island felt a shock, and there was such\nan earthquake as that which Asrayel is to cause on the day of\njudgment.\n\nZeyn was startled, and began to look upon that noise as a very ill\nomen; when Mobarec, who knew better than he what to think of it,\nbegan to smile, and said, Take courage, my prince; all goes well. In\nshort, that very moment the king of the genii appeared in the shape\nof a very handsome man, yet there was something of a sternness in\nhis air.\n\nAs soon as prince Zeyn had made him the compliment he had been\ntaught by Mobarec, the king of the genii smiling, answered, My son,\nI loved your father, and every time he came to pay me his respects,\nI presented him with a statue, which he carried away with him. I\nhave no less kindness for you. I obliged your father some days\nbefore he died, to write that which you read on the piece of white\nsatin. I promised him to receive you under my protection, and to\ngive you the ninth statue, which in beauty surpasses those you have\nalready. I have begun to perform my promise to him. It was I whom\nyou saw in a dream, in the shape of an old man: I caused you to open\nthe subterraneous place, where the urns and the statues are: I have\na great share in all that has befallen you, or rather am the\noccasion of it. I know the motive that brought you hither: you shall\nobtain what you desire. Though I had not promised your father to\ngive it, I would willingly grant it to you: but you must first swear\nto me by all that is sacred, that you will return to this island,\nand that you will bring a maid that is in her fifteenth year, and\nwho has never known man, nor desired to know any. She must also be\nperfectly beautiful; and you so much a master of yourself, as not\neven to desire to enjoy her, as you are conducting her hither.\n\nZeyn took the rash oath that was required of him. But, my lord, said\nhe then, suppose I should be so fortunate as to meet with such a\nmaid as you require, how shall I know that I have found her? I own,\nanswered the king of the genii, smiling, that you might be mistaken\nin her appearance: that knowledge is above the sons of Adam, and\ntherefore I do not mean to depend upon your judgment in that\nparticular: I will give you a looking-glass, which will be more\ncertain than your conjectures. When you shall have seen a maiden\nfifteen years of age, perfectly beautiful, you shall only need look\ninto the glass, in which you shall see her figure. If she be chaste,\nthe glass will remain clean and unsullied; but if, on the contrary,\nit sullies, that will be a certain sign that she has not always been\nprudent, or at least that she has desired to cease to be so. Do not\nforget the oath you have taken: keep it like a man of honour;\notherwise I will take away your life, as much kindness as I have for\nyou. Prince Zeyn Alasnam protested again that he would faithfully\nkeep his word.\n\nThen the king of the genii delivered to him a looking-glass, saying,\nMy son, you may return when you please; there is the glass you are\nto make use of. Zeyn and Mobarec took leave of the king of the\ngenii, and went towards the lake. The boatman with the elephant\u2019s\nhead brought the boat, and carried them over the lake as he had done\nbefore. They joined their servants, and returned with them again to\nCairo.\n\nPrince Alasnam rested a few days at Mobarec\u2019s house, and then said\nto him, Let us go to Bagdad to seek a maiden for the king of the\ngenii. Why, are we not at Grand Cairo? said Mobarec: shall we not\nthere find beautiful maidens enough? You are in the right, answered\nthe prince; but how shall we do to find where they are? Do not\ntrouble yourself about that, sir, answered Mobarec; I know a very\nshrewd old woman, whom I will entrust with that affair, and she will\nacquit herself well.\n\n[Illustration: ZEYN ALASNAM & THE KING OF THE GENII.]\n\nAccordingly the old woman found means to show the prince a\nconsiderable number of beautiful maidens of fifteen years of age;\nbut when he had viewed them, and came to consult his looking-glass,\nthe faithful touchstone of their virtue, the glass always appeared\nsullied. All the maidens in the court and city, that were in their\nfifteenth year, underwent the trial one after another, and the glass\nnever remained bright and clear.\n\nWhen they saw there were no chaste maids to be found in Cairo, they\nwent to Bagdad, where they hired a magnificent palace in one of the\nchief quarters of the city, and began to live splendidly. They kept\nopen house; and after all people had eaten in the palace, the\nfragments were carried to the dervises, who by that means had\ncomfortable subsistence.\n\nThere lived in that quarter an iman, whose name was Boubekir Muezin,\na vain, haughty, and envious person: he hated the rich, only because\nhe was poor, his misery making him angry at his neighbour\u2019s\nprosperity. He heard talk of Zeyn Alasnam, and of the plenty his\nhouse afforded. This was enough for him to take an aversion to that\nprince; and it proceeded so far, that one day after the evening\nprayer in the mosque, he said to the people, Brethren, I have been\ntold there is come to live in our ward a stranger, who every day\ngives away immense sums. How do we know but that this unknown person\nis some villain, who has committed a great robbery in his own\ncountry, and comes hitherto enjoy himself? Let us take care,\nbrethren: if the caliph should be informed that such a man is in our\nward, it is to be feared he will punish us for not acquainting him\nwith it. I declare, for my part, I wash my hands of it; and if any\nthing should happen amiss, it shall not lie at my door. The\nmultitude, who are easily led away, with one voice cried to\nBoubekir, It is your business, doctor: do you acquaint the council\nwith it. The iman went home well pleased, and drew up a memorial,\nresolving to present it to the caliph next day.\n\nBut Mobarec, who had been at prayers, and heard all that was said by\nthe doctor, as well as the rest of the company, put five hundred\npieces of gold into a handkerchief, made up with a parcel of several\nsilks, and went away to Boubekir\u2019s house. The doctor asked him in\na harsh tone, what he wanted. Doctor, answered Mobarec, with an\nobliging air, and at the same time putting into his hand the gold\nand the silk, I am your neighbour and your servant: I come from\nprince Zeyn, who lives in this ward: he has heard of your worth, and\nhas ordered me to come and tell you that he desires to be acquainted\nwith you, and in the mean time desires you to accept of this small\npresent. Boubekir was transported with joy, and answered Mobarec\nthus: Be pleased, sir, to beg the prince\u2019s pardon for me: I am\nashamed I have not yet been to see him, but I will atone for my\nfault, and wait on him to-morrow.\n\nAccordingly the next day, after morning prayer, he said to the\npeople, You must understand, brethren, that no man is without some\nenemies: envy pursues those chiefly who are very rich. The stranger\nI spoke to you about yesterday in the evening is no ill man, as some\nill-designing persons would have persuaded me: he is a young prince\nendowed with every virtue. It behoves us to take care how we go and\ngive any ill account of him to the caliph.\n\nBoubekir having thus wiped off the ill impression he had the day\nbefore given the people concerning Zeyn, returned home, put on his\nbest apparel, and went to visit that young prince, who gave him a\ncourteous reception. After several compliments had passed on both\nsides, Boubekir said to the prince, sir, do you design to stay long\nat Bagdad? I shall stay, answered Zeyn, till I can find a maid,\nfifteen years of age, perfectly beautiful, and so chaste, that she\nhas not only never known a man, but even never desired to know him.\nYou seek after a great rarity, replied the iman; and I should be apt\nto fear your search would prove unsuccessful, did I not know where\nthere is a maid of that character. Her father was formerly vizier;\nbut he has left the court; and lived a long time in a house by\nitself, where he applies himself solely to the education of his\ndaughter. If you please, I will go ask her of him for you: I do not\nquestion but he will be overjoyed to have a son-in-law of your\nquality. Not so fast, said the prince, I shall not marry that maid\nbefore I know whether I like her. As for her beauty, I can depend on\nyou: but what assurance can you give me in relation to her virtue?\nWhat assurance do you require? said Boubekir. I must see her face,\nanswered Zeyn; that is enough for me to form a resolution. You are\nskilful then in physiognomy? replied the iman, smiling. Well, come\nalong with me to her father\u2019s: I will desire him to let you see\nher one moment in his presence.\n\nMuezin conducted the prince to the vizier\u2019s; who, as soon as he\nwas acquainted with the prince\u2019s birth and design, called his\ndaughter, and made her take off her veil. Never had the young king\nof Balsora beheld such a perfect and striking beauty. He stood\namazed, and since he could then try whether the maid was as chaste\nas fair, he pulled out his glass, which remained bright and\nunsullied.\n\nWhen he perceived he had at length found such a person as he\ndesired, he entreated the vizier to grant her to him. Immediately\nthe lady was sent for, and came; the contract was signed, and the\nmarriage prayer said. After which ceremony, Zeyn carried the vizier\nto his house, where he treated him magnificently, and gave him\nconsiderable presents. Next he sent a prodigious quantity of jewels\nto the bride by Mobarec, who brought her to his house, where the\nwedding was kept with all the pomp that became Zeyn\u2019s quality.\nWhen all the company was dismissed, Mobarec said to his master, Let\nus begone, sir; let us not stay any longer at Bagdad, but return to\nCairo; remember the promise you made the king of the genii. Let us\ngo, answered the prince; I must take care to perform it exactly: yet\nI must confess, my dear Mobarec, that if I obey the king of the\ngenii, it is not without reluctance. The person I have married is\ncharming, and I am tempted to carry her to Balsora, and place her on\nthe throne. Alas! sir, answered Mobarec, take heed how you give way\nto your inclination: make yourself master of your passions, and\nwhatsoever it cost you, be as good as your word to the king of the\ngenii. Well, then, Mobarec, said the prince, do you take care to\nconceal that lovely maid from me; let her never appear in my sight;\nperhaps, I have already seen too much of her.\n\nMobarec made all ready for their departure; they returned to Cairo,\nand thence set out for the island of the king of the genii. When\nthey were there, the maid who had performed the journey in a\nhorse-litter, and whom the prince had never seen since his\nwedding-day, said to Mobarec, where are we? Shall we be soon in the\ndominions of the prince, my husband? Madam, answered Mobarec, it is\ntime to undeceive you. Prince Zeyn married you only in order to get\nyou from your father: he did not engage his faith to you, to make\nyou sovereign of Balsora, but to deliver you to the king of the\ngenii, who asked of him a virgin of your character. At these words\nshe began to weep bitterly, which moved the prince and Mobarec. Take\npity on me, said she; I am a stranger; you will be accountable to\nGod for your treachery towards me.\n\nHer tears and complaints were of no effect, for she was presented to\nthe king of the genii, who having gazed on her with attention, said\nto Zeyn, Prince, I am satisfied with your behaviour; the virgin you\nhave brought me is beautiful and chaste, and I am pleased with the\nforce you have put upon yourself to be as good as your word to me.\nReturn to your dominions, and when you shall enter the subterraneous\nroom, where the eight statues are, you shall find the ninth which I\npromised you. I will make my genii carry it thither. Zeyn thanked\nthe king, and returned to Cairo with Mobarec, but did not stay long\nthere; his impatience to see the ninth statue made him hasten his\ndeparture. However, he could not but often think of the young virgin\nhe married; and blaming himself for having deceived her, he looked\nupon himself as the cause and instrument of her misfortune. Alas,\nsaid he to himself, I have taken her from a tender father, to\nsacrifice her to a genie. Oh, incomparable beauty! you deserve a\nbetter fate.\n\nPrince Zeyn, disturbed with these thoughts, at length reached\nBalsora, where his subjects made extraordinary rejoicings for his\nreturn. He went directly to give an account of his journey to his\nmother, who was in a rapture to hear he had obtained the ninth\nstatue. Let us go, my son, said she, let us go see it, for it is\ncertainly in the chamber under ground, since the king of the genii\ntold you you should find it there. The young king and his mother,\nbeing both impatient to see that wonderful statue, went down to the\nsubterraneous place, and into the room of the statues; but how great\nwas their surprise, when, instead of a statue of diamonds, they\nespied on the ninth pedestal a most beautiful virgin, whom the\nprince knew to be the same he had conducted to the island of the\ngenii! Prince, said the young maid, you are surprised to see me\nhere; you expected to have found something more precious than me,\nand I question not but that you now repent having taken so much\ntrouble: you expected a better reward. Madam, answered Zeyn, Heaven\nis my witness, that I more than once was like to have broken my word\nwith the king of the genii, to keep you to myself. Whatsoever be the\nvalue of a diamond statue, is it worthy the satisfaction of enjoying\nyou? I love you above all the diamonds and wealth in the world.\n\nJust as he was done speaking, a clap of thunder was heard, which\nshook that subterraneous place. Zeyn\u2019s mother was frightened, but\nthe king of the genii immediately appearing, dispelled her fear,\nMadam, said he to her, I protect and love your son: I had a mind to\ntry whether, at his age, he could subdue his passions. I know the\ncharms of this young lady have wrought on him, and that he did not\npunctually keep the promise he had made me, not to desire to enjoy\nher; but I am too well acquainted with the frailty of the human\nnature. This is the ninth statue I designed for him; it is more rare\nand precious than the others. Live, said he, directing his discourse\nto the young prince, live happy, Zeyn, with this young lady, who is\nyour wife; and if you would have her true and constant to you, love\nher always, and love her only. Give her no rival, and I will answer\nfor her fidelity. Having spoke these words, the king of the genii\nvanished, and Zeyn, enchanted with that young lady, consummated the\nmarriage the same day, and caused her to be proclaimed queen of\nBalsora. Those two ever-faithful and loving consorts lived together\nmany years.\n\n\n\n\nThe History of Codadad and his Brothers.\n\n\nThose who have written the history of the kingdom of Diarbekir\ninform us, that there formerly reigned in the city of Harran a most\nmagnificent and potent king, who loved his subjects, and was equally\nbeloved by them. He was endued with all virtues, and wanted nothing\nto complete his happiness but an heir. Though he had the finest\nwomen in the world in his seraglio, yet was he destitute of\nchildren. He continually prayed to heaven for them; and one night in\nhis sleep, a comely person, or rather a prophet, appeared to him,\nand said, Your prayers are heard; you have obtained what you\ndesired: rise as soon as you awake, go to your prayers, and make two\ngenuflexions; then walk into the garden of your palace, call your\ngardener, and bid him bring you a pomegranate; eat as many of the\nseeds as you please, and your wishes shall be accomplished.\n\nThe king calling to mind his dream when he awaked, returned thanks\nto heaven, got up, went to prayers, made two genuflexions, and then\nwent down into his garden, where he took fifty pomegranate seeds,\nwhich he counted, and eat. He had fifty wives who shared his bed;\nthey all proved with child; but there was one called Pirouze, who\ndid not appear to be pregnant. He took an aversion to that lady, and\nwould have her put to death. Her barrenness, said he, is a certain\ntoken that Heaven does not judge Pirouze worthy to bear a prince; it\nis my duty to deliver the world from an object that is odious to the\nLord. He had taken this cruel resolution, but his vizier diverted\nhim from putting it in execution; representing to him, that all\nwomen were not of the same constitution, and that it was not\nimpossible but that Pirouze might be with child, though it did not\nyet appear. Well, answered the king, let her live; but let her\ndepart my court, for I cannot endure her. Your majesty, replied the\nvizier, may send her to prince Samer, your cousin. The king approved\nof his advice; he sent Pirouze to Samaria, with a letter, in which\nhe ordered his cousin to treat her well, and in case she proved with\nchild, to give him notice of her being brought to bed.\n\nNo sooner was Pirouze arrived in that country, but it appeared that\nshe was with child, and at length she was delivered of a most\nbeautiful prince. The prince of Samaria wrote immediately to the\nking of Harran, to acquaint him with the birth of that son, and to\ncongratulate him on that occasion. The king was much rejoiced at it,\nand answered prince Samer as follows: \u2018Cousin, all my other wives\nhave each been delivered of a prince; so that we have a great number\nof children here. I desire you to breed up that of Pirouze, to give\nhim the name of Codadad, [94] and to send him to me when I send for\nhim.\u2019\n\nThe prince of Samaria spared nothing that might improve the\neducation of his nephew. He taught him to ride, draw the bow, and\nall the other things becoming the son of a king: so that Codadad, at\neighteen years of age, was looked upon as a prodigy. The young\nprince being inspired with a courage worthy his birth, said one day\nto his mother, Madam, I begin to grow weary of Samaria; I feel a\npassion for glory; give me leave to go seek it amidst the perils of\nwar. My father, the king of Harran, has many enemies: some\nneighbouring princes wish to disturb his repose. Why does he not\ncall me to his assistance? Why does he leave me here so long in\ninfancy! Must I spend my life here in sloth, when all my brothers\nhave the happiness to be fighting by his side? --My son, answered\nPirouze, I am no less impatient to have your name become famous; I\ncould wish you had already signalized yourself against your\nfather\u2019s enemies; but we must wait till he requires it. No, madam,\nreplied Codadad; I have already waited but too long. I long to see\nthe king, and am tempted to go offer him my service, as a young\nstranger: no doubt but he will accept of it, and I will not discover\nmyself till I have performed a thousand glorious actions: I desire\nto merit his esteem before he knows who I am. Pirouze approved of\nhis generous resolution, and Codadad one day departed from Samaria,\nas if he had been going a hunting, without acquainting prince Samer,\nfor fear he should thwart his design.\n\nHe was mounted on a white horse, who had a gold bit and shoes; his\nhousing was of blue satin embroidered with pearls; the hilt of his\nscimitar was of one single diamond, and the scabbard of sandal-wood,\nall adorned with emeralds and rubies, and on his shoulder he carried\nhis bow and quiver. In this equipage, which greatly set off his good\nperson, he arrived at the city of Harran, and soon found means to\noffer his service to the king; who, being charmed with his beauty\nand advantageous presence, and perhaps, indeed by natural sympathy,\ngave him a favourable reception, and asked his name and quality.\nSir, answered Codadad, I am son to an emir of Grand Cairo: an\ninclination to travel has made me quit my country, and\nunderstanding, in my passage through your dominions, that you were\nengaged in war with some of your neighbours, I am come to your court\nto offer your majesty my service. The king showed him extraordinary\nkindness, and gave him an employment in his troop.\n\nThe young prince soon signalized his bravery. He gained the esteem\nof the officers, and was admired by the soldiers. And having no less\nwit than courage, he so far advanced himself in the king\u2019s\naffection, as to become his favourite. All the ministers and other\ncourtiers daily resorted to Codadad, and were so eager to purchase\nhis friendship, that they neglected the king\u2019s other sons. Those\nprinces could not but resent it; and imputing it to the stranger,\nthey all conceived an implacable hatred against him; but the\nking\u2019s affection daily increasing, he was never weary of giving\nhim fresh testimonies of it. He always would have him near him; he\nadmired his discourse, ever full of wit and discretion; and to show\nhis high opinion of his wisdom and prudence, he committed to his\ncare the other princes, though he was of the same age as they; so\nthat Codadad was made governor of his brothers.\n\nThis only served to heighten their hatred. Is it come to this, said\nthey, that the king, not satisfied with loving a stranger more than\nus, will have him to be our governor, and not allow us to do any\nthing without his leave? This is not to be endured. We must rid\nourselves of this stranger. Let us go together, said one of them,\nand despatch him. No, no, answered another; we had better be\ncautious how we sacrifice ourselves. His death would render us\nodious to the king, who in return would declare us all unworthy to\nreign. Let us destroy the stranger artfully. We will ask his leave\nto go hunting, and when at a distance from the palace, we will\nproceed to some other city, and stay there some time. The king will\nwonder at our absence, and perceiving we do not return, he may\nperhaps put the stranger to death, or at least will turn him out of\nthe court, for suffering us to leave the palace.\n\nAll the princes applauded this artifice. They went together to\nCodadad, and desired him to give them leave to take the diversion of\nhunting, promising to return the same day. Pirouze\u2019s son was taken\nin the snare, and granted the leave his brothers desired. They set\nout, but never returned. They had been three days absent, when the\nking asked Codadad where the princes were, for it was long since he\nhad seen them. Sir, answered Codadad, after making a profound\nreverence, they have been hunting these three days, but they\npromised me they would return sooner. The king grew uneasy, and his\nuneasiness increased when he perceived the princes did not return\nthe next day. He could not check his anger: Indiscreet stranger,\nsaid he to Codadad, why did you let my sons go without bearing them\ncompany? Is it thus you discharge the trust I have reposed in you?\nGo seek them immediately, and bring them to me, or you are a dead\nman.\n\nThese words chilled with fear Pirouze\u2019s unfortunate son. He armed\nhimself, went out of the city, and, like a shepherd who had lost his\nflock, searched all the country for his brothers, inquiring at every\nvillage whether they had been seen: and hearing no news of them,\nabandoned himself to the most lively grief. Alas! my brothers, said\nhe, what is become of you? Are you fallen into the hands of our\nenemies? Am I come to the court of Harran to be the occasion of\ngiving the king so much anxiety? He was inconsolable for having\ngiven the princes leave to go a hunting, or for not having borne\nthem company.\n\nAfter some days spent in fruitless search, he came to a plain of\nprodigious extent, in the midst whereof was a palace built of black\nmarble. He drew near, and at one of the windows spied a most\nbeautiful lady, but set off with no other ornament than her own\nbeauty; for her hair was dishevelled, her garments torn, and on her\ncountenance appeared all the marks of the greatest affliction. As\nsoon as she saw Codadad, and judged he might hear her, she directed\nher discourse to him, saying, Young man, get away from this fatal\nplace, or you will soon fall into the hands of the monster that\ninhabits it: a black, who feeds only on human blood, resides in this\npalace; he seizes all persons whom their ill fate conducts to this\nplain, and shuts them up in his dark dungeons, whence they are never\nreleased but to be devoured by him.\n\nMadam, answered Codadad, tell me who you are, and be not concerned\nfor any more. I am a young woman of quality of Grand Cairo, replied\nthe lady; I was passing by this castle yesterday, in my way to\nBagdad, and met with the black, who killed all my servants, and\nbrought me hither: I wish I had nothing but death to fear; but to\nadd to my calamity, this monster would persuade me to love him, and,\nin case I do not yield to-morrow to his brutality, I must expect the\nlast violence. Once more, added she, make your escape: the black\nwill soon return; he is gone out to pursue some travellers he espied\nat a distance on the plain. Lose no time; I know not whether you can\nescape him by a speedy flight.\n\nShe had scarce done speaking these words, before the black appeared.\nHe was a man of monstrous bulk, and of a dreadful aspect, mounted on\na mighty Tartar horse, and bore such a large and heavy scimitar,\nthat none but himself could make use of it. The prince seeing him,\nwas amazed at his monstrous stature, directed his prayers to Heaven\nto assist him, then drew his scimitar, and firmly awaited the black;\nwho, despising so inconsiderable an enemy, called to him to yield\nhimself without fighting: but Codadad by his countenance showed that\nhe was resolved to defend his life; for he drew near, and gave him a\ngreat cut on the knee. The black, feeling himself wounded, uttered\nsuch a dreadful shriek as made all the plain resound. He grew\nfurious, and foamed with rage, and raising himself in his stirrups,\nmade at Codadad with his dreadful scimitar. The blow was so violent,\nthat it would have put an end to the young prince, had not he\navoided it by a sudden spring which he made his horse take. The\nscimitar made a horrible hissing in the air: but before the black\ncould have time to make a second blow, Codadad let fall one on his\nright arm with such fury, that he cut it off. The dreadful scimitar\nfell with the hand that held it, and the black, yielding under the\nviolence of the stroke, lost his stirrups, and made the earth shake\nwith the noise of his fall. The prince alighted at the same time,\nand cut off his enemy\u2019s head. Just then the lady, who had been a\nspectator of that combat, and was still offering up her earnest\nprayers to Heaven for that young hero, whom she admired, gave a\nshriek of joy, and said to Codadad, Prince (for the dangerous\nvictory you have obtained convinces me, as well as your noble air,\nthat you are of no common rank,) finish the work you have begun: the\nblack has the keys of this castle; take them, and deliver me out of\nprison. The prince searched the wretch\u2019s pockets, as he lay\nstretched on the ground, and found several keys.\n\nHe opened the first door, and went into a court, where he met the\nlady coming to meet him: she would have cast herself at his feet,\nthe better to express her gratitude; but he would not permit it. She\ncommended his valour, and extolled him above all the heroes in the\nworld. He returned her compliments, and she appeared still more\nlovely to him near at hand than at a distance. I know not whether\nshe felt more joy at being delivered from the desperate danger she\nhad been in, than he for having done so considerable a service to so\nbeautiful a person.\n\nTheir discourse was interrupted by dismal cries and groans. What do\nI hear? said Codadad: Whence come those miserable cries, which\npierce my ears? My lord, said the lady to him, pointing to a little\ndoor in the court, they come from thence. There are I know not how\nmany wretched persons whom fate has made to fall into the hands of\nthe black. They are all chained, and the monster drew out one every\nday to devour.\n\nIt is an addition to my joy, answered the young prince, to\nunderstand that my victory will save the lives of those unfortunate\npersons. Come along with me, madam, to partake in the satisfaction\nof giving them their liberty. You may judge by yourself how welcome\nwe shall be to them. Having so said, they advanced towards the door\nof the dungeon, and the nearer they drew, the more distinctly they\nheard the complaints of the prisoners. Codadad pitying them, and\nimpatient to put an end to their sufferings, presently put one of\nthe keys into the lock. He did not take the right at first, and\ntherefore he took another; which noise made all those unfortunate\ncreatures, concluding it was the black who came, according to\ncustom, to bring them some meat, and at the same time to seize one\nof them to eat himself, redoubled their cries and groans. Lamentable\nvoices were heard, which seemed to come from the centre of the earth.\n\nIn the mean time, the prince had opened the door, and went down a\nvery steep staircase into a large and deep vault, which received\nsome feeble light from a little window, and in which there were\nabove a hundred persons, bound to stakes, and their hands tied.\nUnfortunate travellers, said he, to them, wretched victims, who only\nexpected the moment of an approaching cruel death, give thanks to\nHeaven, which has this day delivered you by my means. I have slain\nthe black by whom you were to be devoured, and am come to knock off\nyour irons. The prisoners hearing these words, all together gave a\nshout mingled with joy and surprise. Codadad and the lady began to\nunbind them; and as soon as any of them were loose, they helped to\ntake off the fetters from the rest; so that in a short time they\nwere all at liberty.\n\nThey then kneeled down, and having returned thanks to Codadad for\nwhat he had done for them, went out of that dungeon; and when they\nwere come into the court, how was the prince surprised to see among\nthe prisoners those he was in search of, and almost without hopes to\nfind! Princes, cried he, am I not deceived? Is it you whom I behold?\nMay I flatter myself that it will be in my power to restore you to\nthe king your father, who is inconsolable for the loss of you? But\nwill he not have some one to lament? Are you all here alive? Alas!\nthe death of one of you will suffice to damp the joy I feel for\nhaving delivered you.\n\nThe forty-nine princes all made themselves known to Codadad, who\nembraced them one after another, and told them how uneasy their\nfather was on account of their absence. They gave their deliverer\nall the commendations he deserved, as did the other prisoners, who\ncould not find words expressive enough to declare their gratitude.\nCodadad, with them, took a view of the whole castle, where was\nimmense wealth; curious silks, gold brocades, Persian carpets, China\nsatins, and an infinite quantity of other goods, which the black had\ntaken from the caravans he had plundered; a considerable part\nwhereof belonged to the prisoners Codadad had then set free. Every\nman knew and claimed his property. The prince restored them their\nown, and divided the rest of the merchandize among them. Then he\nsaid to them, How will you do to carry away your goods? We are here\nin a desert place, and there is no likelihood of your getting\nhorses. My lord, answered one of the prisoners, the black robbed us\nof our camels as well as our goods, and perhaps they may be in the\nstables of this castle. This is not unlikely, replied Codadad; let\nus see. Accordingly they went to the stables, where they not only\nfound the camels, but also the horses belonging to the king of\nHarran\u2019s sons. There were some black slaves in the stables, who,\nseeing all the prisoners released, and guessing thereby that their\nmaster had been killed, fled through by-ways well known to them.\nNobody minded to pursue them. All the merchants, overjoyed that they\nhad recovered their goods and camels, together with their liberty,\nthought of nothing but prosecuting their journey; but first repeated\ntheir thanks to their deliverer.\n\nWhen they were gone, Codadad, directing his discourse to the lady,\nsaid, What place, madam, do you desire to go to? Whither were you\nbound when you were seized by the black? I intend to bear you\ncompany to the place you shall choose for your retreat, and I\nquestion not but that all these princes will do the same. The king\nof Harran\u2019s sons protested to the lady that they would not leave\nher till she was restored to her friends.\n\nPrinces, said she, I am of a country too remote from hence; and,\nbesides that, it would be abusing your generosity to oblige you to\ntravel so far. I must confess that I have left my native country for\never. I told you awhile ago that I was a lady of Grand Cairo; but\nsince you have shown me so much favour, and I am so highly obliged\nto you, added she, looking upon Codadad, I should be much in the\nwrong in concealing the truth from you. I am a king\u2019s daughter. An\nusurper has possessed himself of my father\u2019s throne, after having\nmurdered him, and I have been forced to fly to save my life.\n\nThen Codadad and his brothers desired the princess to tell them her\nstory, assuring her they felt a particular interest in her\nmisfortunes, and were determined to spare for nothing that might\ncontribute to render her more happy. After thanking them for their\nrepeated protestations of readiness to serve her, she could not\nrefuse to satisfy their curiosity, and began the recital of her\nadventures in the following manner:--\n\n\n\n\nHistory of the Princess of Deryabar.\n\n\nThere is in a certain island a great city called Deryabar; it has\nbeen long governed by a potent, magnificent, and virtuous king. That\nprince had no children, which was the only thing wanting to make him\nhappy. He continually addressed his prayers to Heaven, but Heaven\ngranted his requests by halves; for the queen his wife, after a long\nexpectation, brought forth a daughter.\n\nI am the unfortunate princess: my father was rather troubled than\npleased at my birth; but he submitted to the will of God, and caused\nme to be educated with all possible care, being resolved, since he\nhad no son, to teach me the art of ruling, that I might supply his\nplace after his death.\n\nOne day, when he was taking the diversion of hunting, he espied a\nwild ass, which he chased, lost his company, and was carried away so\nfar by his eagerness, as to ride on till night. He then alighted,\nand sat down at the entrance of a wood, into which he observed the\nass had taken. No sooner was the day shut in than he discovered\namong the trees a light, which made him conclude that he was not far\nfrom some village. He rejoiced at it, hoping that he might pass the\nnight there, and find some person to send to his followers to\nacquaint them where he was; and accordingly he got up and walked\ntowards the light, which served to guide him.\n\nHe soon found he had been deceived, that light being no other than a\nfire lighted in a hut; however, he drew near, and, with amazement,\nbeheld a great black man, or rather a dreadful giant, sitting on a\nsofa. Before the monster was a great pitcher of wine, and he was\nroasting an ox he had newly killed. Sometimes he drank out of the\npitcher, and sometimes he cut slices off the ox, and eat them. But\nthat which most drew the king my father\u2019s attention was a\nbeautiful woman whom he saw in the hut. She seemed overwhelmed with\ngrief; her hands were bound, and at her feet was a little child,\nabout two or three years old, who, as if he was sensible of his\nmother\u2019s misfortunes, wept without ceasing, and rent the air with\nhis cries.\n\nMy father, moved with that pitiable object, thought at first to have\ngone into the hut, and attacked the giant; but considering how\nunequal the combat would be, he stopped, and resolved, since he had\nnot strength enough to prevail by open force, to use art. In the\nmean time, the giant having emptied the pitcher, and devoured above\nhalf the ox, turned to the woman, and said, Beautiful princess, why\ndo you oblige me by your obstinacy to treat you with severity? It is\nin your own power to be happy. You need only to resolve to love and\nbe true to me, and I shall treat you with more mildness. Thou\nhideous satyr, answered the lady, never expect that time should wear\naway my abhorrence of thee. Thou wilt ever be a monster in my eyes.\nTo these words she added so many reproaches, that the giant grew\nenraged. This is too much, cried he, in a furious tone; my love\ndespised is turning into rage. Your hatred has at last excited mine;\nI find it triumphs over my desires, and that I now wish your death\nmore ardently than your enjoyment. Having spoken these words, he\ntook the wretched lady by the hair, held her up with one hand in the\nair, and drawing his scimitar with the other, was just going to\nstrike off her head, when the king my father let fly an arrow which\npierced the giant\u2019s breast, so that he staggered and dropped down\ndead.\n\nMy father entered the hut, unbound the lady\u2019s hands, inquired who\nshe was, and how she came thither. My lord, said she, there are\nalong the sea-coast some families of Saracens, who live under a\nprince, who is my husband: this giant you have killed was one of his\nprincipal officers. The wretch fell desperately in love with me, but\ntook especial care to conceal his passion till he could put in\nexecution the design he had formed of stealing me away. Fortune\noftener favours wicked designs than virtuous resolutions. The giant\none day surprised me and my child in a by-place. He seized us both,\nand, to disappoint the search he well knew my husband would cause to\nbe made for me, he removed from the country inhabited by those\nSaracens, and brought us into this wood, where he has kept me some\ndays. Deplorable as my condition is, it is still a great\nsatisfaction to me to think that the giant, though so brutal and\namorous, never used force to obtain what I always refused to his\nentreaties. Not but that he has a hundred times threatened that he\nwould have recourse to the worst of extremities, in case he could\nnot otherwise prevail upon me; and I must confess to you, that\nawhile ago, when I provoked his anger by my words, I was less\nconcerned for my life than for my honour.\n\nThis, my lord, said the prince of the Saracens\u2019 wife, is the\nfaithful account of my misfortunes; and I question not but you will\nthink me worthy of your compassion, and that you will not repent\nhaving so generously relieved me. Madam, answered my father, be\nassured your troubles have affected me, and I will do all in my\npower to make you happy again. To-morrow, as soon as day appears, we\nwill quit this wood, and endeavour to fall into the road which leads\nto the great city of Deryabar, of which I am sovereign; and if you\nthink fit, you shall be lodged in my palace, till the prince your\nhusband comes to claim you.\n\nThe Saracen lady accepted the offer, and the next day followed the\nking my father, who found all his retinue upon the skirts of the\nwood, they having spent the night in searching after him, and being\nvery uneasy because they could not find him. They were no less\nrejoiced to meet with than amazed to see him with a lady, whose\nbeauty surprised them. He told them how he had found her, and the\nrisk he run in approaching the hut, where he must certainly have\nlost his life had the giant spied him. One of his servants took up\nthe lady behind him, and another carried the child.\n\nThus they arrived at the palace of the king my father, who assigned\nthe beautiful Saracen lady an apartment, and caused her child to be\ncarefully educated. The lady was not insensible of the king\u2019s\ngoodness to her, and expressed as much gratitude as he could desire.\nShe had at first appeared very uneasy, and impatient that her\nhusband did not claim her; but by degrees she lost that uneasiness.\nThe respect my father paid her dispelled her impatience; and I am of\nopinion she would at last have blamed fortune more for restoring her\nto her kindred than she did for removing her from them.\n\nIn the mean time, the lady\u2019s son grew up; he was very handsome,\nand not wanting wit, found means to please the king my father, who\nconceived a great friendship for him. All the courtiers perceived\nit, and guessed that that young man might in the end be my husband.\nIn this idea, and looking on him already as heir to the crown, they\nmade their court to him, and every one endeavoured to gain his\nfavour. He soon saw into their designs, grew conceited of himself,\nand, forgetting the distance there was between our conditions,\nflattered himself with the hopes that my father was fond enough of\nhim to prefer him before all the princes in the world. He went\nfarther; for the king not being forward enough in offering me to him\nas soon as he could have wished, he had the boldness to ask me of\nhim. Whatsoever punishment his insolence deserved, my father was\nsatisfied with telling him he had other thoughts in relation to me,\nand showed him no farther resentment. The youth was incensed at this\nrefusal; the vain fellow resented the contempt, as if he had asked\nsome maid of ordinary extraction, or as if his birth had been equal\nto mine. Nor did he stop here, but resolved to be revenged on the\nking, and, with unparalleled ingratitude, conspired against him. In\nshort, he murdered him, and caused himself to be proclaimed king of\nDeryabar, by a great number of malecontents, whom he encouraged. The\nfirst thing he did, after ridding himself of my father, was to come\ninto my apartment, at the head of a party of the conspirators. His\ndesign was either to take my life, or oblige me to marry him. Whilst\nhe was busy murdering my father, the grand vizier, who had been\nalways loyal to his master, came to carry me away from the palace,\nand secured me in a friend\u2019s house, till a vessel he had provided\nwas ready to sail. I then left the island, attended only by a\ngoverness and that generous minister, who chose rather to follow his\nmaster\u2019s daughter, and share in her misfortunes, than to submit to\na tyrant.\n\nThe grand vizier designed to carry me to the courts of the\nneighbouring kings to implore their assistance, and excite them to\nrevenge my father\u2019s death; but Heaven did not approve a resolution\nwe thought so just. When we had been but a few days at sea, there\narose such a furious storm, that, in spite of all the mariners\u2019\nart, our vessel, carried away by the violence of the winds and\nwaves, was dashed in pieces against a rock. I will not spend time in\ndescribing our shipwreck. I can but faintly represent to you how my\ngoverness, the grand vizier, and all that attended me, were\nswallowed up by the sea. The dread I was seized with did not permit\nme to observe all the horror of our condition. I lost my senses; and\nwhether I was thrown upon the coast upon any part of the wreck of\nour ship, or whether Heaven, which reserved me for other\nmisfortunes, wrought a miracle for my deliverance, I found myself on\nshore when my senses returned.\n\nMisfortunes very often make us forget our duty. Instead of returning\nthanks to God for so singular a favour shewn me, I only lifted up my\neyes to Heaven, to complain because I had been preserved. I was so\nfar from bewailing the vizier and my governess, that I envied their\nfate; and dreadful imaginations by degrees prevailing over my\nreason, I resolved to cast myself into the sea: I was upon the point\nof doing so, when I heard behind me a great noise of men and horses.\nI looked about to see what it might be, and espied several armed\nhorsemen, among whom was one mounted on an Arabian horse. He had on\na garment embroidered with silver, a girdle set with precious\nstones, and a crown of gold on his head. Though his habit had not\nconvinced me that he was chief of the company, I should have judged\nit by the air of grandeur which appeared in his person. He was a\nyoung man extraordinarily well shaped, and perfectly beautiful.\nSurprised to see a young lady alone in that place, he sent some of\nhis officers to ask who I was. I answered only by weeping. The shore\nbeing covered with the wreck of our ship, they concluded some vessel\nhad been cast away there, and that I was certainly some person that\nhad escaped with my life. This conjecture, and my inconsolable\ncondition, excited the curiosity of those officers; who began to ask\nme a thousand questions, with assurances that their king was a\ngenerous prince, and that I should receive consolation in his court.\n\nThe king, impatient to know who I was, grew weary of expecting the\nreturn of his officers, and drew near to me. He gazed on me very\nearnestly, and observing that I did not give over weeping and\nafflicting myself, without being able to return an answer to their\nquestions, he forbid them troubling me any more: and directing his\ndiscourse to me, Madam, said he, I conjure you to moderate your\nexcessive affliction. Though Heaven in its wrath has laid this\ncalamity upon you, it does not behove you to despair. I beseech you\nshow more resolution. Fortune, which has hitherto persecuted you, is\ninconstant, and may soon change. I dare assure you, that if your\nmisfortunes are capable of receiving any relief, you shall find it\nin my dominions. My palace is at your service. You shall live with\nthe queen my mother, who will endeavour by her kindness to ease your\naffliction. I know not yet who you are; but I find I already take an\ninterest in you.\n\nI thanked the young king for his goodness to me, accepted the\nobliging offers he made me; and to convince him that I was not\nunworthy of them, told him my condition. I described to him the\ninsolence of the young Saracen, and found it was enough to recount\nmy misfortunes, to excite compassion in him, and all his officers\nwho heard me. When I had done speaking, the prince began again,\nassuring me that he was deeply concerned at my misfortunes. Then he\nconducted me to his palace, and presented me to the queen his\nmother, to whom I was obliged again to repeat my misfortunes, and to\nrenew my tears. The queen seemed very sensible of my trouble, and\nconceived extreme affection for me. On the other hand, the king her\nson fell desperately in love with me, and soon offered me his person\nand his crown. I was so taken up with the thoughts of my calamities,\nthat the prince, though so lovely a person, did not make so great an\nimpression on me as he might have done at another time. However,\ngratitude prevailed on me, I did not refuse to make him happy, and\nour wedding was kept with all imaginable splendour.\n\nWhen all the people were taken up with the celebration of their\nsovereign\u2019s nuptials, a neighbouring prince, his enemy, made a\ndescent by night on the island with a great number of troops. That\nformidable enemy was the king of Zanguebar. He surprised those\npeople, and cut to pieces all the king my husband\u2019s subjects. He\nwas very near taking us both. We escaped very narrowly, for he had\nalready entered the palace with some of his followers; but we found\nmeans to slip away, and to get to the sea-coast, where we threw\nourselves into a fishing-boat we had the good fortune to meet with.\nTwo days we were driven about by the winds, without knowing what\nwould become of us. The third day we espied a vessel making towards\nus under sail. We rejoiced at first, believing it had been a\nmerchant ship which might take us aboard; but what was our\nastonishment, when, as it drew near, we saw ten or twelve armed\npirates appear on the deck. Having boarded, five or six of them\nleaped into our boat, seized us, bound the prince, and conveyed us\ninto their ship, where they immediately took off my veil. My youth\nand features touched them, and they all declared how much they were\ncharmed at the sight of me. Instead of casting lots, each of them\nclaimed the preference, and me as his right. The dispute grew warm,\nand they came to blows about me, and fought like madmen. The deck\nwas soon covered with dead bodies, and they were all killed but one,\nwho being left sole possessor of me, said, You are mine. I will\ncarry you to Grand Cairo, to deliver you to a friend of mine, to\nwhom I have promised a beautiful slave. But who, added he, looking\nupon the king my husband, is that man? What relation does he bear to\nyou? Are you allied by blood or love? Sir, answered I, he is my\nhusband. If so, replied the pirate, in pity I must rid myself of\nhim: it would be too great an affliction to him to see you in my\nfriend\u2019s arms. Having spoken these words, he took up the unhappy\nprince, who was bound, and threw him into the sea, notwithstanding\nall my endeavours to hinder him.\n\nI shrieked in a dreadful manner at the sight of that cruel action,\nand had certainly cast myself headlong into the sea, but that the\npirate held me. He plainly saw that was my design, and therefore\nbound me with cords to the main-mast, and then hoisting sail, made\ntowards the land, and got ashore. He unbound me, and led me to a\nlittle town, where he bought camels, tents, and slaves, and then set\nout for Grand Cairo, designing, as he still said, to present me to\nhis friend, according to his promise.\n\nWe had been several days upon the road, when, as we were crossing\nthis plain yesterday, we espied the black who inhabited this castle.\nAt a distance we took him for a tower, and when near us could scarce\nbelieve him to be a man. He drew his vast scimitar, and summoned the\npirate to yield himself prisoner, with all his slaves, and the lady\nhe was conducting. The pirate was daring, and being seconded by all\nhis slaves, who promised to stand by him, he attacked the black. The\ncombat lasted a considerable time; but at length the pirate fell\nunder his enemy\u2019s deadly blows, as did all his slaves, who chose\nrather to die than to forsake him. The black then conducted me to\nthe castle, whither he also brought the pirate\u2019s body, which he\neat that night for his supper. After that inhuman meal, perceiving\nthat I ceased not weeping, he said to me, Young lady, prepare to\nsatisfy my desires, rather than continue thus to afflict yourself.\nMake a virtue of necessity, and comply: I will give you till\nto-morrow to consider. Let me then find you comforted for all your\nmisfortunes, and overjoyed for having been reserved for my bed.\nHaving spoke these words, he conducted me to a chamber, and went to\nbed in his own, after locking up all the castle doors. He opened\nthem this morning, and presently locked them again, to pursue some\ntravellers he perceived at a distance; but it is likely they made\ntheir escape, since he was coming alone, and without any booty, when\nyou attacked him.\n\nAs soon as the princess had put an end to the recital of her\nadventures, Codadad declared to her that he was deeply concerned at\nher misfortunes. But, madam, added he, it shall be your own fault if\nyou do not live at ease for the future. The king of Harran\u2019s sons\noffer you a safe retreat in the court of the king their father; be\npleased to accept of it. You will be there cherished by that prince,\nand respected by all; and if you do not disdain the affection of\nyour deliverer, permit me to make you a present of it, and to marry\nyou before all these princes; let them be witnesses to our contract.\nThe princess consented to it, and the marriage was concluded that\nvery day in the castle, where they found all sorts of provisions.\nThe kitchens were full of flesh and other eatables the black used to\nfeed on when he was weary of feeding on human bodies. There was also\na variety of fruits excellent in their kinds; and to complete their\npleasure, abundance of delicious wine and other liquors.\n\nThey all sat down at table; and after having eaten and drank\nplentifully, they took along with them the rest of the provisions,\nand set out for the king of Harran\u2019s court; they travelled several\ndays, encamping in the pleasantest places they could find, and they\nwere within one day\u2019s journey of Harran, when, having halted and\ndrank all their wine, being no longer under concern to make it hold\nout, Codadad directing his discourse to all his company, Princes,\nsaid he, I have too long concealed from you who I am. Behold your\nbrother Codadad! I have received my being, as well as you, from the\nking of Harran; the prince of Samaria has brought me up, and the\nprincess Pirouze is my mother. Madam, added he, addressing himself\nto the princes, of Deryabar, do you also forgive me for having\nconcealed my birth from you? Perhaps, by discovering it sooner, I\nmight have prevented some disagreeable reflections, which may have\nbeen occasioned by a match you may have thought unequal. No, sir,\nanswered the princess, the opinion I at first conceived of you\nheightened every moment, and you did not stand in need of the\nextraction you now discover to make me happy.\n\nThe princes congratulated Codadad on his birth, and expressed much\nsatisfaction at the knowledge of it. But in reality, instead of\nrejoicing, their hatred of so amiable a brother was increased. They\nmet together at night in a by-place, whilst Codadad and the princess\nhis wife lay last asleep in their tent. Those ungrateful, those\nenvious brothers, forgetting that, had it not been for the brave son\nof Pirouze, they must have been devoured by the black, agreed among\nthemselves to murder him. We have no other course to choose, said\none of those wicked brethren; for the moment our father shall come\nto understand that this stranger he is already so fond of, is our\nbrother, and that he alone has been able to destroy a giant, whom we\ncould not all of us together conquer, he will heap favours and a\nthousand praises on him, and declare him his heir, to the prejudice\nof all his brothers, who will be obliged to obey and fall down\nbefore him. Besides those, he added many other words, which made\nsuch an impression on their jealous minds, that they immediately\nrepaired to Codadad, then fast asleep, stabbed him in a thousand\nplaces, and leaving him for dead in the arms of the princess of\nDeryabar, proceeded on their journey for the city of Harran, where\nthey arrived the next day.\n\nThe king, their father, conceived the greater joy at their return,\nbecause he had despaired of ever seeing them again: he asked what\nhad been the occasion of their stay? But they took care not to\nacquaint him with it, making no mention either of the black or of\nCodadad; and only said, that being curious to see different\ncountries, they had spent some time in the neighbouring cities.\n\nIn the mean time Codadad lay in his tent drowned in his own blood,\nand little differing from a dead man, with the princess his wife,\nwho seemed to be in not much better condition than he. She rent the\nair with her dismal shrieks, tore her hair, and bathing her\nhusband\u2019s body with her tears, --Alas! Codadad, my dear Codadad,\ncried she, is it you whom I behold just departing this life? What\ncruel hands have put you into this condition? Can I believe these\nare your brothers who have treated you so unmercifully, these\nbrothers whom thy valour has saved? No, they are rather devils, who\nunder the characters so dear, came to murder you. O barbarous\nwretches! whosoever you are, how could you make so ungrateful a\nreturn for the service he has done you? But why should I complain of\nyour brothers, unfortunate Codadad! I alone am to blame for your\ndeath. You would join your fate with mine, and all the ill-fortune\nthat attends me since I left my father\u2019s palace, has fallen upon\nyou. O Heaven! which has condemned me to lead a life full of\nadventures and calamities, if you will not permit me to have a\nconsort, why do you permit me to find one? Behold, you have now\nrobbed me of two, just as I began to be attached to them.\n\nBy these and other moving expressions, the wretched princess of\nDeryabar vented her sorrow, fixing her eyes on the deplorable\nCodadad, who could not hear her; but he was not dead, and his\nconsort observing that he still breathed, ran to a large town she\nespied in the plain, to inquire for a surgeon. She was directed to\none, who went immediately with her; but when they came to the tent\nthey could not find Codadad, which made them conclude he had been\ndragged away by some wild beast to devour him. The princess renewed\nher complaints and lamentations in a most dismal manner. The surgeon\nwas moved, and being unwilling to leave her in that frightful\ncondition, proposed to her to return to the town, offering her his\nhouse and service.\n\nShe suffered herself to be prevailed on. The surgeon conducted her\nto his house, and without knowing, as yet, who she was, treated her\nwith all imaginable courtesy, and respect. He used all his rhetoric\nto comfort her, but it was in vain to think of removing her sorrow,\nwhich was rather heightened than diminished. Madam, said he to her\none day, be pleased to recount to me your misfortunes; tell me your\ncountry and your condition. Perhaps I may give you some advice, when\nI am acquainted with all the circumstances of your calamity. You do\nnothing but afflict yourself, without considering that remedies may\nbe found for the most desperate diseases.\n\nThe surgeon\u2019s words were so efficacious that they wrought on the\nprincess, who recounted to him all her adventures; and when she had\ndone, the surgeon directed his discourse to her: Madam, said he,\nsince they are so, give me leave to tell you that you ought not thus\nto give way to your sorrow; you ought rather to arm yourself with\nresolution, and perform what the name and the duty of a wife require\nof you. You are bound to avenge your husband. If you please, I will\nwait on you as your squire. Let us go to the king of Harran\u2019s\ncourt; he is a good and a just prince. You need only represent to\nhim in lively colours, how prince Codadad has been treated by his\nbrothers; I am persuaded he will do you justice. I submit to your\nreasons, answered the princess; it is my duty to endeavour to avenge\nCodadad; and since you are so obliging and so generous as to offer\nto bear me company, I am ready to set out. No sooner had she fixed\nthis resolution, than the surgeon ordered two camels to be made\nready, on which the princess and he mounted and repaired to Harran.\n\nThey alighted at the first caravansera they found, and inquiring of\nthe host what news at court: It is, said he, in very great\nperplexity. The king had a son, who lived a long time with him as a\nstranger, and none can tell what is become of that young prince. One\nof the king\u2019s wives, called Pirouze, is his mother; she has made\nall possible inquiry, but to no purpose. All men are concerned at\nthe loss of that prince, because he had great merit. The king has\nforty-nine other sons, all by different mothers, but not one of them\nhas virtue enough to comfort the king for the death of Codadad; I\nsay his death, because it is impossible he should be still alive,\nsince no news has been heard of him, notwithstanding so much search\nhas been made after him.\n\nThe surgeon having heard this account from the host, concluded that\nthe best course the princess of Deryabar could take was to wait upon\nPirouze: but that step was not without some danger, and required\nmuch precaution; for it was to be feared, that if the king of\nHarran\u2019s sons should happen to hear of the arrival of their\nsister-in-law, and her design, they might cause her to be conveyed\naway before she could speak to Codadad\u2019s mother. The surgeon\nweighed all these circumstances, and considered what risk he might\nrun himself; and therefore that he might manage matters with\ndiscretion, he desired the princess to stay in the caravansera,\nwhilst he went to the palace, to observe which might be the safest\nway to conduct her to Pirouze.\n\nHe went accordingly into the city, and was walking towards the\npalace, like one led only by curiosity to see the court, when he\nespied a lady mounted on a mule richly accoutred. She was followed\nby several ladies mounted also on mules, with a great number of\nguards and black slaves. All the people made a lane to see her pass\nalong, and saluted her by prostrating themselves on the ground. The\nsurgeon paid her the same respect, and then asked a calendar, who\nhappened to stand by him, whether that lady was one of the king\u2019s\nwives? Yes, brother, answered the calender, she is one of the\nking\u2019s wives, and the most honoured and beloved by the people,\nbecause she is mother to prince Codadad, of whom you must have heard.\n\nThe surgeon asked no more questions, but followed Pirouze to a\nmosque, into which she went to distribute alms, and assist at the\npublic prayers the king had ordered to be made for the safe return\nof Codadad. The people, who were highly concerned for that young\nprince, ran in crowds to join their vows to the prayers of the\npriests, so that the mosque was quite full. The surgeon broke the\nthrong, and advanced towards Pirouze\u2019s guards. He stayed out the\nprayers and when that princess went out he stepped up to one of her\nslaves, and whispered him in the ear, Brother, I have a secret of\nmoment to impart to the princess Pirouze; may not I, by your means,\nbe introduced into her apartment? If that secret, answered the\nslave, relates to prince Codadad, I dare promise you shall have\naudience of her this very day; but if it concerns not him, it is\nneedless for you to endeavour to be introduced to her; for her\nthoughts are all engrossed by her son, and she will not hear talk of\nany other subject. It is only about that dear son, replied the\nsurgeon, that I wish to speak to her. If so, said the slave, you\nneed only follow us to the palace, and you shall soon speak to her.\n\nAccordingly, as soon as Pirouze was returned to her apartment, that\nslave acquainted her that a person unknown had some important matter\nto communicate to her, and that it related to prince Codadad. No\nsooner had he uttered these words, than Pirouze expressed her\nimpatience to see that stranger. The slave immediately conducted him\ninto the princess\u2019s closet, who ordered all her women to withdraw,\nexcept two, from whom she concealed nothing. As soon as she saw the\nsurgeon, she asked him eagerly what news he had to tell her of\nCodadad? Madam, answered the surgeon, after having prostrated\nhimself on the ground, I have a long account to give you, and such\nas will surprise you. Then he told her all the particulars of what\nhad passed between Codadad and his brothers, which she listened to\nwith eager attention; but when he came to speak of the murder, that\ntender mother fainted away on the sofa, as if she had herself been\nstabbed like her son. Her two women used proper means, and soon\nbrought her to herself. The surgeon continued his relation; and when\nhe had ended it, Pirouze said to him. Go back to the princess of\nDeryabar, and assure her from me that the king shall soon own her\nfor his daughter-in-law; and as for yourself be assured that your\nservices shall be well rewarded.\n\nWhen the surgeon was gone, Pirouze remained on the sofa, in such a\nstate of affliction as may easily be imagined; and yielding to her\ntenderness at the recollection of Codadad, O! my son, said she, I\nmust never then expect to see you more! Alas! when I gave you leave\nto depart from Samaria, and you took leave of me, I did not imagine\nthat so unfortunate a death awaited you at such a distance from me.\nUnfortunate Codadad! Why did you leave me! You would not, it is\ntrue, have acquired so much renown; but you had been still alive,\nand not have cost your mother so many tears. While she uttered these\nwords, she wept bitterly; and her two confidants, moved by her\ngrief, mingled their tears with hers.\n\nWhilst they were all three, as it were, vying in affliction, the\nking came into the closet, and seeing them in that condition, asked\nPirouze whether she had received any bad news concerning Codadad?\nAlas! sir, said she, all is over; my son has lost his life, and to\nadd to my sorrow, I cannot pay him the funeral rites; for, in all\nappearance, the wild beasts have devoured him. Then she told him all\nthat she had heard from the surgeon, and did not fail to enlarge on\nthe inhuman manner in which Codadad had been murdered by his\nbrothers.\n\nThe king did not give Pirouze time to finish her relation, but\ntransported with anger, and giving way to his passion, Madam, said\nhe, to the princess, those perfidious wretches who cause you to shed\nthese tears, and are the occasion of mortal grief to their father,\nshall soon feel the punishment due to their guilt. The king having\nspoken these words, with indignation in his countenance, went\ndirectly to the presence-chamber, where all his courtiers attended,\nand such of the people as had any petitions to present to him. They\nwere all astonished to see him in that passion, and thought his\nanger had been kindled against his people. Their hearts were chilled\nwith fear. He ascended the throne, and causing his grand vizier to\ndraw near, Hassan, said he, I have some orders for you: go\nimmediately, take a thousand of my guards, and seize all the\nprinces, my sons; shut them up in the tower appointed as a prison\nfor murderers, and let this be done in a moment. All who were\npresent trembled at hearing this extraordinary command; and the\ngrand vizier, without answering one word, laid his hand on his head,\nto express his obedience, and went out of the hall to execute his\norders, which very much surprised him. In the mean time the king\ndismissed those who attended for audience, and declared he would not\nhear of any business for a month to come. He was still in the hall\nwhen the vizier returned. Are all my sons, said that prince, in the\ntower? They are, sir, answered the vizier: I have obeyed your\norders. This is not all, replied the king, I have farther commands\nfor you; and so saying, he went out of the hall of audience, and\nreturned to Pirouze\u2019s apartment, with the vizier following him. He\nasked that princess where Codadad\u2019s widow had taken up her\nlodging? Pirouze\u2019s women told him, for the surgeon had not forgot\nthat in his relation. Then the king turning to his minister, Go,\nsaid he, to that caravansera, and bring a young princess, who lodges\nthere, but treat her with all the respect due to her quality.\n\nThe vizier was not long in performing what he was ordered. He\nmounted on horseback with all the emirs and courtiers, and repaired\nto the caravansera, where the princess of Deryabar was, whom he\nacquainted with his orders; and presented her from the king a fine\nwhite mule, whose saddle and bridle were adorned with gold, rubies,\nand diamonds. She mounted it, and went to the palace, attended by\nall those great men. The surgeon bore her company, mounted on a\nbeautiful Tartar horse, which the vizier had provided for him. All\nthe people were at their windows, or in the streets, to see that\nnoble cavalcade; and it being given out that the princess, whom they\nconducted in such state to court, was Codadad\u2019s wife, the city\nresounded with acclamations, the air rung with shouts of joy, which\nwould have been turned into lamentations, had that prince\u2019s fatal\nadventure been known; so much was he beloved by all.\n\nThe princess of Deryabar found the king at the palace gate, waiting\nto receive her. He took her by the hand, and led her to Pirouze\u2019s\napartment, where a very moving scene took place. Codadad\u2019s wife\nfound her affliction redouble upon her at the sight of her\nhusband\u2019s father and mother: as, on the other hand, those parents\ncould not look on their son\u2019s wife without being much affected.\nShe cast herself at the king\u2019s feet, and having bathed them with\ntears, was so overcome with grief that she was not able to speak one\nword. Pirouze was in no better state. She seemed to be penetrated\nwith sorrow; and the king, moved by those affecting objects, gave\nway to his own weakness. Those three persons, mingling their tears\nand sighs, for some time observed a silence, which appeared equally\ntender and pitiful. At length the princess of Deryabar, being\nsomewhat recovered, recounted the adventure of the castle, and\nCodadad\u2019s disaster. Then she demanded justice for the treachery of\nthe princes. --Yes, madam, said the king to her, those ungrateful\nwretches shall perish; but Codadad\u2019s death must first be made\npublic, that the punishment of his brothers may not cause my\nsubjects to rebel; and though we have not my son\u2019s body, we will\nnot omit paying him the last duties. This said, he directed his\ndiscourse to the vizier, and ordered him to build a dome of white\nmarble, in a delightful plain, in the midst of which the city of\nHarran stands. Then he appointed the princess of Deryabar a handsome\napartment in his palace, acknowledging her for his daughter-in-law.\n\nHassan caused the work to be carried on with such diligence, and\nemployed so many workmen, that the dome was soon finished. Within it\nwas erected a tomb, on which was placed a figure representing\nCodadad. When all was completed, the king ordered prayers to be\nsaid, and appointed a day for the obsequies of his son.\n\nOn that day all the inhabitants of the city went out upon the plain\nto see the ceremony performed, which was after the following manner.\nThe king, attended by his vizier and the principal lords of the\ncourt, proceeded towards the dome, and being come to it, he went in\nand sat down with them on carpets made of black satin with gold\nflowers. A great body of horse-guards, hanging their heads and\nlooking down, drew up close about the dome, and marched round it\ntwice, observing a profound silence; but at the third round they\nhalted before the door, and all of them with a loud voice pronounced\nthese words: O prince! son to the king, could we by dint of sword,\nand human valour, relieve your misfortune, we would bring you back\nto life; but the King of kings has commanded, and the angel of death\nhas obeyed. Having uttered these words, they drew off to make way\nfor a hundred old men, all of them mounted on black mules, and\nwearing long grey beards. These were anchorites, who lived all their\ndays concealed in caves. They never appeared in the sight of the\nworld but when they were to assist at the obsequies of the kings of\nHarran, and of the princes of their family. Each of these venerable\npersons carried on his head a book, which he held with one hand.\nThey took three turns round the dome without uttering one word; then\nstopping before the door, one of them said, O prince! what can we do\nfor thee? If thou couldst be restored to life by prayer or learning,\nwe would rub our grey beards at thy feet, and recite prayers; but\nthe King of the universe has taken thee away for ever.\n\nThis said, the old men moved to a distance from the dome, and\nimmediately fifty beautiful young maidens drew near to it: each of\nthem was mounted on a little white horse; they wore no veils, and\ncarried gold baskets, full of all sorts of precious stones. They\nalso rode thrice round the dome, and halting at the same place as\nthe others had done, the youngest of them spoke in the name of all,\nas follows: O prince! once so beautiful, what relief can you expect\nfrom us? If we could restore you to life by our charms, we would\nbecome your slaves. But you are no longer sensible to beauty, and\nhave no more occasion for us.\n\nWhen the young maids were withdrawn, the king and his courtiers\narose, and having walked thrice round the figure representing\nCodadad, the king spoke as follows: O my dear son, light of my eyes,\nI have then lost thee for ever! He accompanied these words with\nsighs, and watered the tomb with his tears; his courtiers weeping\nwith him. Then the gate of the dome was shut, and all the people\nreturned to the city. Next day there were public prayers in all the\nmosques, and the same was continued for eight days successively. On\nthe ninth the king resolved to cause the princes his sons to be\nbeheaded. All the people, incensed at their cruelty towards Codadad,\nimpatiently expected to see them executed. The scaffolds were\nerecting, but the execution was respited, because, on a sudden, news\nwas brought that the neighbouring princes, who had before made war\non the king of Harran, were advancing with more numerous forces than\nthe first time, and were not then far from the city. It had been\nlong known that they were preparing for war, but their preparations\ncaused no alarm. This news occasioned a general consternation, and\ngave new cause to lament the loss of Codadad, who had signalized\nhimself in the former war against those enemies. Alas! said they,\nwere the brave Codadad alive, we should little regard those princes\nwho are coming to surprise us. The king, nothing dismayed, raised\nmen with all possible speed, formed a considerable army, and being\ntoo brave to await the enemy\u2019s coming to attack him within his\nwalls, marched out to meet them. They, on their side, being informed\nby their advanced parties, that the king of Harran was marching to\nengage them, halted in the plain and formed their army.\n\nAs soon as the king discovered them, he also drew up his forces, and\nranged them in order of battle. The signal was given, and he\nattacked them with extraordinary vigour; nor was the opposition\ninferior. Much blood was shed on both sides, and the victory\nremained long dubious; but at length it seemed to incline to the\nking of Harran\u2019s enemies, who, being more numerous, were upon the\npoint of surrounding him, when a great body of horse appeared on the\nplain, and drew near the two armies in good order. The sight of that\nfresh party daunted both sides, not knowing what to think of them;\nbut their doubts were soon cleared; for those horsemen flew upon the\nflank of the king of Harran\u2019s enemies with such a furious charge,\nthat they soon broke and routed them. Nor did they stop here; they\npursued them, and cut most of them in pieces.\n\nThe king of Harran, who had attentively observed all that passed,\nadmired the bravery of those horsemen, whose unexpected arrival had\ngiven the victory to his side. But, above all, he was charmed with\ntheir chief, whom he had seen fighting with more than ordinary\nvalour. He longed to know the name of that generous hero. Impatient\nto see and thank him, he advanced towards him, but perceived he was\ncoming to prevent him. The two princes drew near, and the king of\nHarran discovering Codadad in that brave warrior, who had just\nassisted him, or rather defeated his enemies, became motionless with\njoy and surprise. Sir, said Codadad, to him, you have sufficient\ncause to be astonished at the sudden appearance before your majesty\nof a man whom perhaps you concluded to be dead. I should have been\nso had not Heaven preserved me still to serve you against your\nenemies. O! my son, cried the king, is it possible that you are\nrestored to me? Alas! I despaired of seeing you any more. So saying,\nhe stretched out his arms to the young prince, who flew to such a\ntender embrace.\n\nI know all, my son, said the king again, after having long held him\nin his arms. I know what return my sons have made you for the\nservice you did in delivering them out of the hands of the black;\nbut you shall be revenged to-morrow. Let us now go to the palace:\nyour mother, whom you have cost so many tears, expects me, to\nrejoice with us for the defeat of our enemies. What a joy will it be\nto her to be informed that my victory is your work! Sir, said\nCodadad, give me leave to ask you, how you could know the adventure\nof the castle? Have any of my brothers, repenting, owned it to you?\nNo, answered the king; the princess of Deryabar has given us an\naccount of every thing, for she is in my palace, and came thither to\ndemand justice against your brothers. Codadad was transported with\njoy to understand that the princess his wife was at the court. Let\nus go, sir, cried he to his father in a rapture; let us go see my\nmother, who waits for us. I am impatient to dry up her tears, as\nwell as those of the princess of Deryabar.\n\nThe king immediately returned to the city with his army, which he\ndismissed, and re-entered his palace victorious, amidst the\nacclamations of the people, who followed him in crowds, praying to\nHeaven to prolong his life, and extolling Codadad to the skies.\nThese two princes found Pirouze and her daughter-in-law waiting for\nthe king to congratulate him; but words cannot express the\ntransports of joy they felt when they saw the young prince come with\nhim: their embraces were mingled with tears of a very different kind\nfrom those they had before shed for him. When these four persons had\nsufficiently yielded to all the emotions that the ties of blood and\nlove inspired, they asked Pirouze\u2019s son by what miracle he came to\nbe still alive?\n\nHe answered, that a peasant mounted on a mule happening accidentally\nto come into the tent, where he lay senseless, and perceiving him\nalone, and stabbed in several places, had made him fast on his mule\nand carried him to his house, where he applied to his wounds certain\nherbs chewed, which recovered him in a few days. When I found myself\nwell, added he, I returned thanks to the peasant, and gave him all\nthe diamonds I had. Then I drew near to the city of Harran; but\nbeing informed by the way that some neighbouring princes had\ngathered forces, and were coming to fall upon the king\u2019s subjects,\nI made myself known to the villagers, and stirred up those people to\nundertake his defence. I armed a great number of young men, and\nheading them, happened to come in at that time when the two armies\nwere engaged.\n\nWhen he had done speaking, the king said, Let us return thanks to\nGod for having preserved Codadad; but it is requisite that the\ntraitors, who would have destroyed him, should perish this day. Sir,\nanswered the generous son of Pirouze, though they are wicked and\nungrateful, consider they are your own flesh and blood: they are my\nbrothers; I forgive their offence, and beg you to pardon them. This\ngenerosity drew tears from the king, who caused the people to be\nassembled, and declared Codadad his heir. Then he ordered the\nprinces, who were prisoners, to be brought loaded with irons.\nPirouze\u2019s son struck off their chains, and embraced them all\nsuccessively, with as much sincerity as he had done in the court of\nthe black castle. The people were charmed with Codadad\u2019s good\ndisposition, and loaded him with applause. The surgeon was next\nnobly rewarded, in requital of the services he had done the princess\nof Deryabar.\n\nThe sultaness Scheherazade, having related the previous stories with\nso much address, and in so agreeable a manner, that the sultan of\nthe Indies could not forbear showing the pleasure that relation gave\nhim, said to that monarch, I doubt not but your majesty is very well\nsatisfied to find the caliph Haroun Alraschid change his sentiments\nin favour of Ganem, his mother and sister; and I believe you may be\nsensibly affected with their misfortunes, and the ill treatment they\nreceived: but I am persuaded, if your majesty would hear the story\nof the Sleeper awakened, it would, instead of exciting all those\nemotions of indignation and compassion in your breast, on the\ncontrary, afford you much mirth and diversion. The sultan, who\npromised himself some new adventures from the title of this story,\nwould have heard it that morning, but perceiving day approach,\ndeferred it till the next; when Dinarzade called upon her sister,\nwho began her story in these words.\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of the Sleeper awakened.\n\n\nIn the reign of the caliph Haroun Alraschid, there lived at Bagdad a\nvery rich merchant, who, having married a woman advanced in years,\nhad but one son, whom he named Abon Hassan, and educated with great\nrestraint: when his son was thirty years old, the merchant died, and\nleft him his sole heir, and master of great riches, which his father\nhad amassed together by much frugality and close application to\nbusiness.\n\nAbon Hassan, whose views and inclinations were very different from\nthose of his father, determined to make another use of his wealth;\nfor as his father had never allowed him any money but what was just\nnecessary for subsistence, and he had always envied those young\npersons of his age who wanted for nothing, and who debarred\nthemselves from none of those pleasures to which youth are too much\naddicted, he resolved in his turn to distinguish himself by\nextravagances proportionable to his fortune. To this end he divided\nhis riches into two parts: with one half he bought houses in town,\nand land in the country, with a promise to himself, never to touch\nthe income of his estate which was considerable enough to live upon\nvery handsomely, but lay it all by as he received it: with the other\nhalf, which consisted in ready money, he designed to make himself\namends for the time he had lost in the severe restraint in which his\nfather had always kept him.\n\nWith this intent, Abon Hassan formed a society in a few days with\npeople of his age and condition, and thought of nothing but how to\nmake their time pass agreeably. Every day he gave them splendid\nentertainments, at which the most delicate meats were served up, and\nthe most exquisite wines flowed in plenty, while concerts of the\nbest vocal and instrumental music by performers of both sexes\nheightened their pleasures, and this young band of debauchees, with\nthe glasses in their hands, joined their songs with the music, thus\nforming a concert with the instruments; and these feasts generally\nended with balls, to which the best dancers of Bagdad of both sexes\nwere invited. These entertainments, renewed every day, were so\nexpensive to Abon Hassan, that he could not support the extravagance\nabove a year: and the great sum which he had consecrated to this\nprodigality, and the year, ended together. As soon as he left off\nkeeping this table, his friends forsook him; whenever they saw him\nthey avoided him, and if by chance he met any of them, and went to\nstop them, they always excused themselves on some pretence or other.\n\nAbon Hassan was touched more by this strange behaviour of his\nfriends, who had forsaken him so basely and ungratefully, after all\nthe protestations of friendship they had made him, and their\ninviolable attachment to his service, than for all the money he had\nso foolishly squandered away: he went melancholy and thoughtful, his\nhead hanging down, and his countenance expressive of deep vexation,\ninto his mother\u2019s apartment, and sat down at the end of a sofa at\na distance from her. What\u2019s the matter with you, son? said his\nmother, seeing him in this condition. Why are you so altered, so\ndejected, and so different from yourself? You could not certainly be\nmore concerned, if you had lost all you had in the world. I know you\nhave lived very profusely, and believe all your money is spent; you\nhave yet a good estate; and the reason that I did not so very much\noppose your irregular way of living was, that I knew the wise\nprecaution you had taken to preserve half your substance. I do not,\ntherefore, see why you should plunge yourself into this deep\nmelancholy.\n\nAt these words Abon Hassan melted into tears; and in the midst of\nhis sighs, cried out, Ah! mother, I see at last, by sad experience,\nhow insupportable poverty is; I am sensible that it deprives us of\njoy, as the setting of the sun does of light. As poverty makes us\nforget all the commendations and fine things said of us before our\nfall, it makes us endeavour to conceal ourselves, and spend our\nnights in tears and sorrow. In short, a poor man is looked upon,\nboth by friends and relations, as a stranger. You know, mother, how\nI have treated my friends for this year past; I have entertained\nthem with all imaginable generosity, till I have spent all my money,\nand now they have left me, when I can treat them no longer. When I\ntell them that I have no more means to continue their mirth, I mean\nthe money I laid by to employ in such purposes. For my estate, I\nthank Heaven for having given me the grace to keep the oath I have\nmade, not to enter upon that, to spend it so foolishly: and now I\nshall keep that oath, and know how to make good use of what is left.\nBut first I will try how far my friends, who deserve not that I\nshould call them so, will carry their ingratitude. I will go to them\none after another, and when I have represented to them what I have\ndone for their sakes, I will ask them among them to make me up a sum\nof money, to relieve me out of the miserable condition I have\nreduced myself, to please them; but as I have already said, I will\nnot take these steps, but to try if I can find any sentiment of\ngratitude remaining in them.\n\nI do not pretend, son, said Abon Hassan\u2019s mother, to dissuade you\nfrom executing your design; but I can tell you beforehand, that you\nhave no ground for hope. Believe me, you will find no relief but\nfrom the estate you have reserved. I see you do not, but will soon\nknow those people, which among persons of your sort are generally\ncalled friends, and I wish to Heaven you may know it in the manner I\ndesire; that is to say, for your own good. Mother, replied Abon\nHassan, I am persuaded of the truth of what you say, but shall be\nmore certain of a fact which concerns me so nearly, when I shall\ninform myself better of their baseness and insensibility. Abon\nHassan went immediately to his friends, whom he found at home;\nrepresenting to them the great need he was in, and begged of them to\ndraw their purse-strings to assist him. He promised to give every\none bonds to pay them the money they lent him, as soon as his\naffairs were made up; giving them to understand at the same time,\nthat it was, in a great measure, upon their accounts that he was so\ndistressed, that he might the more powerfully excite their\ngenerosity; and forgot not to allure them with the hopes of being\nonce again entertained in the same manner as before.\n\nNot one of his bottle companions was affected with the arguments\nwhich the afflicted Abon Hassan made use of to persuade them; and he\nhad the mortification to find, that many of them told him plainly\nthey did not know him.\n\nHe returned home again full of grief and indignation; and going into\nhis mother\u2019s apartment, said, Ah! madam, you were right; instead\nof friends, I have found none but perfidious ungrateful wretches,\nwho deserve not my friendship, which I renounce, and promise you I\nwill never see them more. He resolved to be as good as his word, and\ntook every precaution to avoid falling into the same inconvenience;\ntaking an oath never to give an inhabitant of Bagdad any\nentertainment again while he lived. He drew the strong box in which\nhe had put the rents he had received from his estate from the place\nwhere he had placed it in reserve, and put it in the room of that he\nhad emptied, and resolved to take out every day no more than was\nsufficient to defray the expense of a single person to sup with him,\nwho, according to the oath he had taken, was not to be any man of\nBagdad, but a stranger that came into Bagdad the same day, and must\ntake his leave of him the next morning after one night\u2019s meal.\n\nAccording to this project, Abon Hassan took care every morning to\nprovide whatever was necessary for this treat, and towards the close\nof the evening went and sat at the end of Bagdad bridge; and as soon\nas he saw a stranger, of whatever rank or condition he was, he\naccosted him civilly, and invited him to sup and lodge with him that\nnight; and after having informed him of the law he had imposed upon\nhimself, took him home with him. The repast with which Abon Hassan\nregaled his guests was not costly, but always sufficient, with\nplenty of good wine, and generally lasted till the night was pretty\nwell advanced; when, instead of entertaining his guest with the\naffairs of state, his family, or business, as is too frequent, he\naffected to talk only of indifferent agreeable subjects. He was\nnaturally of so gay and so pleasant a temper, that he could give the\nmost agreeable turns to conversation on every subject, and make the\nmost melancholy persons merry. When he sent away his guests the next\nmorning, he always said, God preserve you from all sorrow wherever\nyou go; when I invited you yesterday to come and sup with me, I\ninformed you of the law I have imposed on myself; therefore do not\ntake it ill if I tell you, that we must never see one another again,\nnor drink together, either at home or any other house, for reasons\nbest known to myself; so God conduct you.\n\nAbon Hassan was very exact in the observation of this oath, and\nnever looked upon or spoke to the strangers he had once entertained;\nwherever he met them in the streets, the squares, or any public\nassemblies, he affected not to see them, and turned away to avoid\nthem, that they might not speak to him, or he have any communication\nwith them. He had acted for a long time after this manner, when, one\nafternoon, a little before sun-set, as he sat upon the bridge\naccording to custom the caliph Haroun Alraschid came by, but so\ndisguised that it was impossible to know him; for that monarch,\nthough his chief ministers and officers of justice acquitted\nthemselves of their duty very punctually, would nevertheless inform\nhimself of every thing, and for that purpose often disguised himself\nin different ways, and walked through the city and suburbs of\nBagdad, sometimes one way and sometimes another. That day, being the\nfirst of the month, he was dressed like a merchant of Moussol, who\nhad but just embarked, and was followed by a tall stout black slave.\n\nAs the caliph had in his disguise a grave and respectful air, Abon\nHassan, who thought him to be a Moussol merchant, rose up, and,\nafter having saluted him with a graceful air, and kissed his hand,\nsaid to him, Sir, I congratulate you on your happy arrival; I beg\nyou to do me the honour to go and sup with me, and repose yourself\nat my house this night, after the fatigue of your voyage: and to\noblige him not to refuse him that favour, he told him his custom of\nentertaining the first stranger he met with. The caliph found\nsomething so odd and singular in Abon Hassan\u2019s taste, that he was\nvery desirous to know the bottom of it; and without quitting the\ncharacter of a merchant, told him, that he could not better answer\nthat great civility, which he did not expect at his arrival at\nBagdad, than by accepting the obliging offer that he made him; that\nhe had only to lead the way, and he was ready to follow him.\n\nAbon Hassan, who knew not that the guest which chance presented to\nhim was so very much above him, treated the caliph as his equal,\ncarried him home, and led him into a room very neatly furnished,\nwhere he set him on a sofa, in the most honourable place. Supper was\nready, and the cloth laid. Abon Hassan\u2019s mother, who took upon\nherself the care of the kitchen, sent up three dishes; the first was\na capon and four large pullets, which was set in the middle; and the\nsecond and third, placed on each side, were a fat roasted goose and\nbroiled pigeons. This was all; but they were good of the kind, and\nwell-flavoured, with proper sauces.\n\nAbon Hassan sat down over-against his guest, and he and the caliph\nbegan to eat heartily of what they liked best, without speaking or\ndrinking, according to the custom of the country. When they had done\neating, the caliph\u2019s slave brought them water to wash their hands:\nand in the mean time Abon Hassan\u2019s mother cleared the table, and\nbrought up a dessert of all the various sorts of fruits then in\nseason; as grapes, peaches, apples, pears, and various pastes of\ndried almonds, &c. As soon as it grew dark, wax candles were\nlighted, and Abon Hassan, after charging his mother to take care of\nthe caliph\u2019s slave, set on bottles and glasses.\n\nThen Abon Hassan sitting down with the pretended Moussol merchant\nagain, filled out a glass of wine, before he touched the fruit; and\nholding it out in his hand, said to the caliph, still taking him for\na merchant of Moussol, You know, sir, that the cock never drinks\nbefore he calls to his hens to come and drink with him; I invite you\nto follow my example. I do not know what you may think; but, for my\npart, I cannot reckon him a wise man who does not love wine. Let us\nleave those sort of people to their dull melancholy humours, and\nseek for mirth, which is only to be found in a brimmer.\n\nWhile Abon Hassan was drinking, the caliph taking the glass that was\nset for him, said, You are an honest fellow; I like your pleasant\ntemper, and expect you will fill me as much. Abon Hassan, as soon as\nhe had drank, filled the caliph\u2019s glass, and giving it to him,\nTaste this wine, sir, said he; I will warrant it good. I am very\nwell persuaded of that, replied the caliph, laughing; you know how\nto choose the best. O, replied Abon Hassan, (while the caliph was\ntaking off his glass,) one need only look in your face to see you\nhave seen the world, and know what good living is. If, added he in\nArabic verse, my house could think and express its joy, how happy\nwould it be to possess you, and, bowing before you, would cry, How\noverjoyed am I to see myself honoured with the company of so\nwell-behaved and so polite a personage, and for meeting with a man\nof your merit.\n\nThe caliph, who was naturally lively, was mightily diverted with\nthese sallies of Abon Hassan\u2019s, and took great pleasure in\npromoting drinking, often asking for wine, thinking that when it\nbegan to work, he might, by his conversation, satisfy his curiosity.\nIn order, therefore, to enter into conversation, he asked him his\nname, his business, and how he spent his life. My name, sir, replied\nhe, is Abon Hassan. I lost my father, who was a merchant of Bagdad\nand though he was not the richest, yet he lived very comfortably.\nWhen he died, he left me money enough for my station to live free\nfrom ambition; but as he always kept a very strict hand over me in\nhis lifetime, I was willing, when he was gone, to make up the time I\nthought I had lost. Notwithstanding this, continued Abon Hassan, I\nwas more prudent than most young people are, who give themselves up\nto debauchery, without any thought, and pursue it till they reduce\nthemselves to the utmost poverty, and are forced to do penance all\nthe rest of their lives after. To avoid this misfortune, I divided\nwhat I had left me into two parts, land and ready money. I destined\nthe ready money to supply the expenses of my acquaintance. I\nmeditated, and took a fixed resolution not to touch my rents. I\nassociated with young people of my own age, and with my ready money,\nwhich I spent profusely, treated them splendidly every day; and in\nshort, spared for no sort of pleasure. But all this did not last\nlong; for by the time the year was out, I had got to the bottom of\nmy box, and then all my table friends vanished. I made a visit to\nevery one of them successively, and represented to them the\nmiserable condition I was in, but none of them made an offer to\nrelieve me. Upon this, I renounced their friendship, and retrenched\nso far as to live within the compass of my income, and bound myself\nto keep company with none but the first stranger I could meet with\ncoming that day into Bagdad, and to entertain him but one day and\none night. I have told you the rest before; and I thank my good\nfortune this day for meeting with a stranger of so much worth.\n\nThe caliph was very well satisfied with this information, and said\nto Abon Hassan, I cannot enough commend the measures you have taken,\nand the prudence with which you have acted, by forsaking your\ndebauchery, --a conduct rarely to be met with in young persons; and\nI esteem you the more for being so faithful to yourself. It was a\nslippery path you trod in, and I cannot enough admire, how, after\nhaving seen the end of your ready money, you had so great command\nover yourself as not to enter upon your rents, or even your estate.\nIn short, I must own, I envy you your happiness. You are the\nhappiest man in the world, to enjoy every day the company of some\none honest man, with whom you can discourse freely and agreeably,\nand to whom you give an opportunity to declare, wherever he goes,\nhow handsomely he was received by you. But, we talk too long without\ndrinking: come, drink, and pour out a glass for me.\n\nIn this manner the caliph and Abon Hassan conversed together,\ndrinking and talking of indifferent pleasant subjects, till the\nnight was pretty far advanced; when the caliph pretending to be\nfatigued after his journey, told his host he stood in need of a\nlittle rest. But, added he, as I would not deprive you of yours on\nmy account, before we part, (because to-morrow I may be gone before\nyou are stirring,) I should be glad to show you how sensible I am of\nyour civility, and the good cheer and hospitality you have shown me.\nThe only thing that troubles me is, that I know not which way to\nmake you any acknowledgement, I beg of you, therefore, to let me\nunderstand how I may do it, and you shall see I will not be\nungrateful; for it is impossible but a man like you must have some\nbusiness, some want, or wish for something agreeable to you. Speak\nfreely, and open your mind; for though I am out a merchant, it may\nbe in my power to oblige you myself, or by some friend.\n\nTo these offers of the caliph, Abon Hassan, taking him still for a\nMoussol merchant, replied, I am very well persuaded, my good sir,\nthat it is not out of compliment that you make me these generous\ntenders; but upon the word of an honest man, I assure you, I have\nnothing that troubles me, no business, nor desires, and I ask\nnothing of any body. I have not the least ambition, as I told you\nbefore; and am satisfied with my condition: therefore, I can only\nthank you for your obliging proffers, and the honour you have done\nme to come and take a slight repast with me. Yet I must tell you,\npursued Abon Hassan, there is one thing gives me uneasiness,\nwithout, however, disturbing my rest. You must know the town of\nBagdad is divided into quarters, in each of which there is a mosque,\nwith an iman to perform prayers at certain hours, at the head of the\nquarter which assembles there. The iman of the division I live in is\na grave old man, of an austere countenance, and the greatest\nhypocrite in the world. Four old men of this neighbourhood, who are\npeople of the same stamp, meet regularly every day at this iman\u2019s\nhouse. There they vent their slander, calumny, and malice against\nme, and the whole quarter, to the disturbance of the peace of a\nneighbourhood, and the promotion of dissention. Some they threaten,\nothers they frighten; and, in short, would be lords paramount, and\nhave every one govern himself according to their caprice, though\nthey know not how to govern themselves. Indeed, I am sorry to see\nthat they meddle with any thing but their koran, and do not let the\nworld live quietly.\n\nWell, I suppose, said the caliph, you wish to have a stop put to\nthis disorder? You have guessed right, answered Abon Hassan: and the\nonly thing I should pray for would be to be caliph but for one day,\nin the stead of our sovereign lord and master Haroun Alraschid, the\ncommander of the faithful. What would you do if you was? said the\ncaliph. I would make examples of them, answered Abon Hassan, to the\nsatisfaction of all honest men. I would punish the four old men with\neach a hundred bastinadoes on the soles of their feet, and the iman\nwith four hundred, to teach them not to disturb and abuse their\nneighbours any more.\n\nThe caliph was extremely well pleased with this thought of Abon\nHassan\u2019s; and as he loved adventures, he longed to make this a\nvery singular one. Indeed, said he, I approve very much of your\nwish, which I see proceeds from an upright heart, that cannot bear\nto see the malice of wicked people go unpunished; I could like to\nsee it take effect, and it is not so impossible a thing as you may\nimagine. I am persuaded that the caliph would willingly put his\nauthority for twenty-four hours into your hands, if he knew your\ngood intentions, and the good use you would make of it. Though a\nforeign merchant, I have credit enough to contribute in some degree\nto the execution of this plan. I see, said Abon Hassan, you laugh at\nmy foolish fancy, and the caliph himself would laugh at my\nextravagance too, if he knew it; yet it would be a means of\ninforming him of the behaviour of the iman and his companions, and\ninduce him to chastise them.\n\nHeaven forbid, replied the caliph, that I, who have been so\nhandsomely entertained by you, should laugh at you; neither do I\nbelieve, as much a stranger as I am to you, that the caliph would be\ndispleased: but let us leave off talking; it is almost midnight, and\ntime to go to bed. With all my heart, said Abon Hassan, I would not\nbe any hinderance to your going to rest; but there is still some\nwine in the bottle, and if you please we will drink it off first,\nand then retire. The only thing that I have to recommend to you is,\nthat when you go out in the morning, if I am not up, you will not\nleave the door open, but give yourself the trouble of shutting it\nafter you. This the caliph promised to do; and while Abon Hassan was\ntalking, took the bottle and two glasses, and filled his own first,\nsaying, Here is a cup of thanks to you, and then filling the other,\nput into it artfully a little powder, which he had about him, and\ngiving it to Abon Hassan, said, You have taken the pains to fill for\nme all this night, and it is the least I can do to save you the\ntrouble once: I beg you to take this glass; drink it off for my sake.\n\nAbon Hassan took the glass, and to show his guest with how much\npleasure he received the honour he did him, whipt it off at once,\nbut had scarcely set the glass upon the table, but the powder began\nto work, and he fell into so sound a sleep, that his head knocked\nagainst his knees so suddenly, that the caliph could not help\nlaughing. The caliph ordered the slave he had brought along with\nhim, and who came again into the room as soon as he had supped, and\nhad been there to receive his orders, to take him upon his back, and\nfollow him; but to be sure to observe the house, that he might know\nit again when he was ordered to bring him back; and in this manner\nthe caliph, followed by the slave with Abon Hassan upon his back,\nwent out of the house, but without shutting the door after him as\nAbon Hassan desired him, and went directly to his palace, and by a\nprivate door into his own apartment, where all the officers of his\nchamber were waiting for him, whom he ordered to undress Abon Hassan\nand put him in his bed, which they immediately performed.\n\nThen the caliph sent for all the officers and ladies of the palace,\nand said to them, I would have all those, whose business it is to\nattend my levee, wait to-morrow morning upon this man, who lies in\nmy bed, and pay the same respect to him as to myself, and obey him\nin whatever he commands; let him be refused nothing that he asks\nfor, and be spoken to and answered in every thing he says or does,\nas if he was the commander of the faithful. In short, I expect that\nyou look upon him as the true caliph and commander of the faithful,\nwithout regarding me; and above all things, mistake not in the least\ncircumstance.\n\nThe officers and ladies, who presently understood that the caliph\nhad a mind to divert himself, answered him by low bows, and then\nwithdrew, every one preparing to contribute to the best of their\npower to perform their respective parts adroitly.\n\nThe caliph returning to his palace, sent for the grand vizier:\nGiafar, said he, I have sent for you to instruct you, and to prevent\nyour being surprised to-morrow when you come to audience, to see\nthis man that is laid here in my bed, seated on my throne in my\nroyal robes: accost him with the same reverence and respect you pay\nto myself; observe and punctually execute whatever he bids you do,\nthe same as if I commanded you. He will exercise great liberality,\nand commission you with the distribution of it. Do all he bids you,\neven if his liberality should extend so far as to empty all the\ncoffers in my treasury; and remember to acquaint all my emirs, and\nall the officers without the palace, to pay him the same honour at\naudience as to myself, and to carry on the matter so well, that he\nmay not perceive the least thing that may interrupt this diversion\nwhich I design myself.\n\nAfter the grand vizier retired, the caliph went to bed in another\napartment, and gave Mesrour, the chief of his eunuchs, the orders\nwhich he was to execute, that every thing might succeed as he\nintended, to gratify the wish of Abon Hassan; that he might see how\nAbon Hassan would use the power and authority of the caliph for the\nshort time he desired to have it. Above all, he charged him not fail\nto awake him at the usual hour, before he awakened Abon Hassan,\nbecause he had a mind to be present when he arose.\n\nMesrour failed not to do as the caliph had commanded, and as soon as\nthe caliph went into the room where Abon Hassan lay, he placed\nhimself in a little raised closet, from whence he could see all that\npassed. All the officers and ladies, who were to attend Abon\nHassan\u2019s levee, went in at the same time, and took their posts\naccording to their rank, with great silence, and ready to acquit\nthemselves of their respective duties, as if it was the caliph who\nwas going to rise.\n\nAs it was just daybreak, and time to rise to morning prayer before\nsun-rise, the officer that stood nearest the head of the bed put a\nsponge steeped in vinegar to Abon Hassan\u2019s nose, who presently\nturning his head about, without opening his eyes, with a little\neffort discharged a kind of phlegm, which was received in a little\ngolden basin before it fell on the carpet. This was the usual effect\nof the caliph\u2019s powder, the sleep lasting longer or shorter, in\nproportion to the dose. When Abon Hassan laid down his head on the\nbolster, he opened his eyes; and by the small daylight that\nappeared, he found himself in a large handsome room, magnificently\nfurnished, the ceiling of which was finely painted in the Arabesque\npattern, adorned with vases of gold and silver, and the floor\ncovered with a rich silk tapestry, and surrounded by a great many\nyoung and handsome ladies, many of them having instruments of music\nin their hands, and black eunuchs richly clothed, all standing with\ngreat modesty and respect. After casting his eyes on the covering of\nthe bed, he perceived it was cloth of gold, richly embossed with\npearls and diamonds, and by the bed lay, on a cushion, a habit of\nthe same stuffs and trimmings, with a caliph\u2019s turban.\n\nAt the sight of these glittering objects Abon Hassan was in most\ninexpressible confusion and amazement, and looked upon all he saw as\na dream; yet such a dream as he wished it not to be. So, said he to\nhimself, I am caliph; but, added he, recollecting himself, it is\nonly a dream, the effect of the wish I entertained my guest with\nlast night; and then he turned himself about, and shut his eyes to\nsleep again. At the same time the eunuch said, very respectfully,\nCommander of the faithful, it is time for your majesty to rise to\nprayers; the morning begins to advance.\n\nThese words very much surprised Abon Hassan. Am I awake, or do I\nsleep? said he to himself: Ah, certainly I am asleep! continued he,\nkeeping his eyes shut; there is no reason to doubt of it.\n\nImmediately the eunuch, who saw he gave him no answer, and had no\ninclination to get up, said again, Your majesty must permit me to\nrepeat once more that it is time to rise to morning prayer, unless\nyou choose to let it pass; the sun is just rising, and you never\nneglect this duty. I am mistaken, said Abon Hassan presently: I am\nnot asleep, but awake; for those that sleep do not hear, and I hear\nsomebody speak to me: then opening his eyes again, he saw plainly by\nbroad daylight, what he had seen but indistinctly before; and\nstarted up, with a smiling countenance, like a man overjoyed at a\nsudden promotion. The caliph, who saw him, penetrated his thoughts\nwith great delight.\n\nThen the young ladies of the palace prostrated themselves with their\nfaces to the ground before Abon Hassan, and those who had the\ninstruments of music in their hands wished him a good morrow, by a\nconcert of soft flutes, hautboys, theorboes, and other harmonious\ninstruments, with which he was enchanted, and in such an ecstacy,\nthat he knew not where he was, nor whether he was himself; but\nreverting to his first idea, he still doubted whether what he saw\nand heard was a dream or reality. He clapt his hands before his\neyes, and lowering his head, said to himself, What means all this?\nWhere am I? and to whom does this palace belong? What can these\neunuchs, handsome well-dressed officers, beautiful ladies, and\nmusicians, mean? How is it possible for me not to distinguish\nwhether I am in my right senses, or in a dream?\n\nWhen he took his hands from his eyes, opened them, and lifted up his\nhead, the sun shone full in at the chamber window; and at that\ninstant, Mesrour, the chief of the eunuchs, came in, prostrated\nhimself before Abon Hassan, and said, Commander of the faithful,\nyour majesty will excuse me for representing to you, that you used\nnot to rise so late, and that the time of prayer is over. If your\nmajesty has not had a bad night, and has been indisposed, it is time\nto ascend your throne and hold council as usual; all your generals,\ngovernors, and other great officers of state, wait your presence in\nthe council-hall.\n\nAt this discourse of Mesrour, Abon Hassan was verily persuaded that\nhe was neither asleep nor in a dream; but at the same time was not\nless embarrassed and confused under this uncertainty what steps to\ntake: at last, looking earnestly at Mesrour, he said to him in a\nserious tone, Who is it you speak to, and call the commander of the\nfaithful? I do not know you, and you must mistake me for somebody\nelse.\n\nAny person but Mesrour would have been dashed at these questions of\nAbon Hassan\u2019s; but he had been so well instructed by the caliph,\nthat he played his part to a wonder. My worthy lord and master, said\nhe, your majesty only speaks thus to try me: Is not your majesty the\ncommander of the faithful, monarch of the world from East to West,\nand vicar on earth [95] to the prophet sent of God? Mesrour, your\npoor slave, has not forgotten you, after so many years that he has\nhad the honour and happiness to serve and pay his respects to your\nmajesty. He would think himself the most unhappy of men if he has\nincurred your displeasure, and begs of you most humbly to remove his\nfears; but had rather suppose that you have been disturbed by some\ntroublesome dream to-night.\n\nAbon Hassan burst out a laughing at these words of Mesrour\u2019s, and\nfell backwards upon the bolster, which pleased the caliph so much\nthat he would have laughed as loud himself, if he had not been\nafraid of putting a stop too soon to the pleasant scene he promised\nhimself.\n\nAbon Hassan, when he had tired himself with laughing, sat up again,\nand speaking to a little eunuch that stood by him, black as Mesrour,\nsaid, Hark ye, tell me who I am? Sir, answered the little boy\nmodestly, your majesty is the commander of the believers, and\nGod\u2019s vicar on earth. You are a little liar, black face, said Abon\nHassan. Then he called the lady that stood nearest to him: Come\nhither, fair one, said he, holding out his hand, bite the end of my\nfinger, that I may feel whether I am asleep or awake.\n\nThe lady, who knew the caliph saw all that passed, was overjoyed to\nhave an opportunity of showing her power of diverting him, and went\nwith a grave countenance, and putting his finger between her teeth,\nshe bit it so hard that she put him to violent pain. Snatching his\nhand quickly back again, he said, I find I am awake, and not asleep.\nBut by what miracle am I become caliph in a night\u2019s time? this is\ncertainly the most strange and surprising thing in the world! then\naddressing himself to the same lady, said, I conjure you, by the\nprotection of God, in whom you trust as well as I, not to hide the\ntruth from me; am I really the commander of the faithful? It is so\ntrue, answered the lady, that we, who are your slaves, are amazed to\nfind that you will not believe yourself to be so. You are a\ndeceiver, replied Abon Hassan; I know very well who I am.\n\nAs the chief of the eunuchs perceived that Abon Hassan had a mind to\nrise, he offered him his hand, and helped him to get out of bed. No\nsooner were his feet set on the floor, but the chamber rang again\nwith the repeated acclamations of the officers and ladies, who cried\nout altogether, Commander of the faithful, God give your majesty a\ngood day. O heaven! cried Abon Hassan, what a strange thing is this!\nLast night I was Abon Hassan, and this morning I am the commander of\nthe believers! I cannot comprehend this sudden and surprising\nchange. Presently some of the officers began to dress him; and when\nthey had done, Mesrour led him through all the eunuchs and ladies,\nwho were ranged on both sides, quite to the council chamber door,\nwhich was opened by one of the officers. Mesrour walked before him\nto the foot of the throne, where he stopped, and putting one hand\nunder one arm, while another officer who followed did the same by\nthe other, they helped him to ascend the throne. Abon Hassan sat\ndown amidst the acclamations of the officers, who wished him all\nhappiness and prosperity, and turning to the right and left he saw\nthe officers of the guards ranged in good order, and making a fine\nappearance.\n\nThe caliph in the mean time came out of the closet, where he was\nhid, and went into another, which looked into the council-hall, from\nwhence he could see and hear all that passed in council, while his\ngrand vizier presided in his place, when he was prevented by illness\nfrom attending in person. What pleased him highly, was to see Abon\nHassan fill his throne with almost as much gravity as himself.\n\nAs soon as Abon Hassan had seated himself, the grand vizier Giafar\nprostrated himself at the foot of the throne, and rising and\naddressing himself to him, said, Commander of the faithful, God\nshower down blessings on your majesty in this life, receive you into\nhis paradise in the other world, and confound your enemies.\n\nAbon Hassan, after all that had happened that morning, and these\nwords of the grand vizier, never doubted but that he was caliph, as\nhe wished to be; and so without examining any farther, how, or by\nwhat adventure, or sudden change of fortune, he immediately began to\nexercise his power, and looking very gravely upon the vizier, asked\nhim what he had to say? Commander of the faithful, replied the grand\nvizier, the emirs, viziers, and other officers who are of your\nmajesty\u2019s council, wait at the door till your majesty gives them\nleave to come in and pay their accustomed respects to you. Abon\nHassan presently ordered the door to be opened, and the grand vizier\nturning, and addressing himself to the officers who waited for\norders, said, Chief of the door-keepers, the commander of the\nfaithful orders you to do your duty.\n\nWhen the door was opened, the viziers, emirs, and principal officers\nof the court, all dressed magnificently in their habits of ceremony,\nwent in their order to the foot of the throne, and paid their\nrespects to Abon Hassan; and bowing their heads down to the carpet,\nkneeling on one knee, saluted him with the title of the commander of\nthe faithful, according to the instructions of the grand vizier, and\nafterwards took their seats.\n\nWhen this ceremony was over, and they were all placed, there was a\nprofound silence. The grand vizier always standing before the\nthrone, began, according to the order of papers in his hand, to make\nhis report of affairs, which at that time were of very little\nconsequence. Nevertheless, the caliph could not but admire how Abon\nHassan acquitted himself in his great post without the least\nhesitation or embarrassment, and decided so well in all matters, as\nhis own good sense suggested the request was or was not proper to be\ngranted. But before the grand vizier had finished his report, Abon\nHassan perceived the judge of the police, whom he knew by sight,\nsitting in his place: Stop, said he to the grand vizier,\ninterrupting him; I have an order of consequence to give to the\njudge of the police. The judge of the police perceiving that Abon\nHassan looked at him, and hearing his name mentioned, arose from off\nhis seat, and went gravely to the foot of the throne, where he\nprostrated himself with his face to the ground. Judge of the police,\nsaid Abon Hassan, go immediately to such a quarter, in such a\nstreet, where you will find a mosque, and seize the iman of the\nmosque and four old gray beards, and give each of the old men a\nhundred bastinadoes with a bull\u2019s pizzle, and the iman four\nhundred. After that, mount them all five, clothed in rags, upon\ncamels, with their faces to the tails, and lead them through the\nwhole city, with a crier before them, who shall proclaim with a loud\nvoice, \u2018This is the punishment of all those who trouble their\nheads with other people\u2019s affairs, and make it their business to\ncreate disturbances and misunderstandings in families in their\nneighbourhood, and do them all the mischief in their power.\u2019 My\nintention is also, that you enjoin them to leave that quarter, and\nnever to set foot in it more; and while your lieutenant is\nconducting them through the town, return, and give me an account of\nthe execution of my orders. The judge of the police laid his hand\nupon his head, to show his obedience to execute that order on pain\nof losing his head if he failed, and prostrating himself a second\ntime, went away.\n\nThe caliph was extremely well pleased at the firmness with which\nthis order was given, and perceived that Abon Hassan was resolved\nnot to lose the opportunity of punishing the iman and the other four\nold hypocrites of his quarter. In the mean time, the grand vizier\nwent on with his report, and had just finished, when the judge of\nthe police came back from executing his commission. He approached\nthe throne with the usual ceremony, and said, Commander of the\nfaithful, I found the iman and his four companions in the mosque,\nwhich your majesty pointed out; and for a proof that I have\npunctually obeyed your commands, I have brought an instrument signed\nby the principal inhabitants of that quarter. At the same time he\npulled a paper out of his bosom, and presented it to the pretended\ncaliph.\n\nAbon Hassan took the paper, and reading it over cautiously with the\nnames of the witnesses, who were all people that he knew very well,\nsaid to the judge of the police, smiling, It is well; I am\nsatisfied; return to your seat. These old hypocrites, said he to\nhimself, with an air of satisfaction, who thought fit to censure my\nactions, and find fault with my entertaining honest people, deserved\nthis punishment. The caliph all the time penetrated his thoughts,\nand felt inconceivable joy in this pleasant exhibition.\n\nThen Abon Hassan, addressing himself to the grand vizier, said, Go\nto the high treasurer for a purse of a thousand pieces of gold, and\ncarry it to the mother of one Abon Hassan, who is known by the name\nof the _debauchee_; she lives in the same quarter to which I sent\nthe judge of the police. Go, and return immediately.\n\nThe grand vizier, after laying his hand upon his head, and\nprostrating himself before the throne, went to the high treasurer,\nwho gave him the money, which he ordered a slave to take, and to\nfollow him to Abon Hassan\u2019s mother, to whom he gave it, saying\nonly, The caliph makes you this present. She received it with the\ngreatest surprise imaginable. She could not tell what to think of\nthis liberality of the caliph\u2019s, and was totally ignorant of what\npassed in the palace.\n\nDuring the grand vizier\u2019s absence, the judge of the police made\nthe usual report of his office, which lasted till the vizier\nreturned. As soon as he came into the council-chamber, and had\nassured Abon Hassan he had executed his orders, Mesrour, the chief\nof the eunuchs, who returned to the palace after he had conducted\nAbon Hassan to the council, came again, and made a sign to the\nviziers, the emirs, and other officers, that the council was over,\nand that they might all retire; which they did, by making the same\nprostration at the foot of the throne as when they entered.\n\nAbon Hassan sat not long on the caliph\u2019s throne, but came down\nfrom it, supported in the same manner as he went up by Mesrour and\nanother officer of the eunuchs, who attended him back again to the\napartment from whence he came, preceded all the way by the grand\nvizier. But he had scarce made a few steps, when he was taken with a\npressing occasion; upon which they showed him into a neat closet,\npaved with marble; whereas the apartment where he was, was covered\nwith rich carpets, like the other apartments of the palace. They\ngave him a pair of drawers of silk embroidered with gold, which it\nwas usual to put on before going in there. He took them, and as he\nknew not the use of them, he put them into one of his sleeves, which\nwere very wide. As it often happens that a trifle excites laughter\nsooner than a matter of consequence, the grand vizier, Mesrour, and\nall the officers of the palace near him, had like to have burst into\nlaughter, and spoiled all the sport; but they contained themselves,\nand the grand vizier was obliged at last to explain to him, that he\nmust put on the drawers before he went into the private closet.\n\nWhile Abon Hassan was there, the grand vizier went to the caliph,\nwho had already taken another station to observe Abon Hassan without\nbeing seen, and acquainted him with what had passed, which the\ncaliph enjoyed exceedingly.\n\nWhen Abon Hassan came out of the closet, Mesrour went before him, to\nshow him the way into an inner apartment, where there was a table\nspread: several eunuchs ran before to tell the musicians that the\nsham caliph was coming, who immediately began a concert of vocal and\ninstrumental music, with which Abon Hassan was so charmed and\ntransported, that he could not tell what to think of all he saw and\nheard. If this is a dream, said he, it is a long one. But certainly,\ncontinued he, it is no dream; for I can see and feel, walk and hear,\nand argue reasonably: whatever it is, I trust in God; yet I cannot\nbelieve but I am the commander of the faithful, for no other person\ncould live in this splendour. The honour and respect that has been\nshown me, and the obedience paid to my commands, are sufficient\nproofs.\n\nIn short, Abon Hassan took it for granted that he was caliph and the\ncommander of the faithful; and was fully convinced of it, when he\nentered that magnificent and spacious hall, which was finely painted\nwith the brightest colours intermixed with gold. Seven bands of\nfemale musicians, more beautiful than the others, were placed round\nthe hall, and as many gold branches hung down from the ceiling,\nwhich was painted with blue and gold, intermixed with wonderful\neffect. In the middle of the hall was spread a table covered with\nmassy gold plates and dishes, which scented the hall with the spices\nand amber wherewith the meat was seasoned; and seven young and most\nbeautiful ladies, dressed in the richest habits of the most vivid\ncolours, stood round this table, each with a fan in her hand, to fan\nAbon Hassan when at dinner.\n\nIf ever mortal was charmed, Abon Hassan was when he entered that\nstately hall. At every step he took, he could not help stopping to\ncontemplate at leisure all the wonders that regaled his eyes, and\nturned first to one side, and then again on the other; which gave\nthe caliph, who viewed him with attention, very great pleasure. --At\nlast he went and sat down at the table, and presently all the ladies\nthat stood by it began to fan the new caliph. He looked first at\none, and then at another, and admired the grace with which they\nacquitted themselves. He told them with a graceful smile, that he\nbelieved one of them was enough to give him all the air he wanted,\nand would have six of the ladies sit at table with him, three on his\nright hand, and three on his left; and he placed them at it, so\nthat, as the table was round, which way soever he turned, his eyes\nmight be saluted with agreeable objects.\n\nThe six ladies obeyed, and sat down at the table; and Abon Hassan\ntaking notice, that out of respect they did not eat, helped them\nhimself, and invited them to eat in the most pressing and obliging\nterms. Afterwards he asked their names, which they told him were\nAlabaster Neck, Coral Lips, Moon Face, Sunshine, Eye\u2019s Delight,\nHeart\u2019s Delight, and she who fanned him was Sugar-Cane. The many\nsoft things he said upon their names showed him to be a man of\nsprightly wit, and it is not to be conceived how very much it\nincreased the esteem which the caliph (who saw every thing) had\nalready conceived for him.\n\nWhen the ladies saw that Abon Hassan had done eating, one of them\nsaid to the eunuchs who waited, The commander of the faithful will\ngo into the hall where the dessert is, --bring some water; upon\nwhich they all arose from the table, and taking from the eunuch, one\na gold basin, another an ewer of the same metal, and a third a\ntowel, kneeled down before Abon Hassan, and presented them to him to\nwash his hands, who, as soon as he had done, got up, and after an\neunuch had opened the door, went, preceded by Mesrour, who never\nleft him, into another hall, as large as the former, adorned with\npaintings by the best masters, and furnished with gold and silver\nvessels, carpets, and other rich furniture. There seven different\nbands of music began a concert as soon as Abon Hassan appeared. In\nthis hall there were seven other large lustres, and a table in the\nmiddle covered with dried sweetmeats and the choicest and most\nexquisite fruits of the season, raised in pyramids, in seven gold\nbasins; and seven ladies, more beautiful than the others, standing\nround it, each with a fan in her hand.\n\nThese new objects raised still greater admiration in Abon Hassan\nthan before; who, after he had made a full stop, and given the most\nsensible marks of his surprise and astonishment, went directly to\nthe table, where sitting down, he gazed a considerable time at the\nseven ladies, with an embarrassment that plainly showed he knew not\nwhich to give the preference to. At last he ordered them all to lay\naside their fans and sit down, and eat with him, telling them, that\nit was not so hot but he could spare them that trouble.\n\nWhen the ladies were all placed about him, the first thing he did\nwas to ask their names, which were different from the other seven,\nand expressed some perfection of mind or body, which distinguished\nthem from one another; upon which he took an opportunity, when he\npresented them with fruit, &c. to say something smart. Eat this fig\nfor my sake, said he to Chain of Hearts, who sat on his right hand;\nand render the fetters, with which you loaded me the first moment I\nsaw you, more supportable. Then presenting a bunch of grapes to\nSoul\u2019s Torment, Take this cluster of grapes, said he, on condition\nyou instantly abate the torments which I suffer for your sake; and\nso on to the rest. By these words Abon Hassan more and more pleased\nand diverted the caliph, who was delighted with his words and\nactions, and pleased to think he had found in him a man who diverted\nhim so agreeably, and suggested to him a method of being better\nacquainted with him.\n\nAfter Abon Hassan had tasted of all the fruits in the basin, he got\nup and followed Mesrour, who never left him, into a third hall, much\nmore magnificently furnished than the other two; where he was\nreceived by the same number of musicians and ladies, who stood round\na table covered with all manner of wet sweetmeats. After he had\nlooked about him with new wonder, he advanced to the table, the\nmusic playing all the time till he sat down. The seven ladies, by\nhis order, sat down with him, and as he could not but show them the\nsame civility as he had done to the rest, they helped themselves, as\nhe desired them, to what they liked best; and he afterwards informed\nhimself of their names, which pleased him as much as the others had\ndone, and led him to say as many soft things to them, to the great\ndiversion of the caliph, who lost not a word.\n\nBy this time the day beginning to close, Abon Hassan was conducted\ninto a fourth hall, much more superb and magnificently furnished,\nlighted with wax candles in seven great gold lustres, which gave a\nglorious light. The like was not seen in the other halls, because it\nwas not necessary. Abon Hassan found the same number of musicians\nhere as he had done in the other three halls, performing in concert\nin the most lively manner, and seeming to inspire greater joy; and\nhe saw as many ladies standing round a table covered with seven gold\nbasins filled with cakes, dried sweetmeats, and all such things as\nwere proper to promote drinking. There he saw, which he had not\nobserved in any of the other halls, a beaufet, which was set out\nwith seven large silver flagons full of the choicest wines, and by\nthem seven crystal glasses of the finest workmanship.\n\nHitherto in the three first halls Abon Hassan drank nothing but\nwater, according to the custom observed at Bagdad, from the highest\nto the lowest, and at the caliph\u2019s court, never to drink wine till\nthe evening; all who transgress this rule being accounted\ndebauchees, and dare not show themselves in the daytime. This custom\nis the more laudable, as it requires a clear head to apply to\nbusiness in the course of the day; and as no wine is drank till\nevening, no drunken people are seen in the streets in open day\nmaking disturbances in the city.\n\nAs soon as Abon Hassan entered the fourth hall, he went to the table\nand sat down, and was a long time in a kind of ecstacy at the sight\nof those seven ladies who surrounded him, and were much more\nbeautiful than all he beheld in the other halls. He was very\ndesirous to know all their names; but as the music played then so\nvery loud, and particularly the tambour, that he could not hear them\nspeak, he clapped his hands as a sign for them to leave off playing,\nand a profound silence ensued. Then taking by the hand the lady who\nstood on the right next to him, he made her sit down by him, and\npresenting her with a cake, asked her name. Commander of the\nfaithful, said the lady, I am called Cluster of Pearls. No name,\nreplied Abon Hassan, could have more properly expressed your worth;\nand indeed your teeth exceed the finest pearls. Cluster of Pearls,\nadded he, since that is your name, oblige me with a glass of wine\nfrom your fair hand, and take another with me. The lady went\npresently to the beaufet and brought him a glass of wine, which she\npresented to him with a pleasant air. Abon Hassan took the glass\nwith a smile, and looking passionately upon her, said, Cluster of\nPearls, I drink your health; I desire you to fill out as much for\nyourself, and pledge me. She ran to the beaufet, and returned with a\nglass in her hand; but before she drank, she sung a song, which\ncharmed him as much by the sweetness of her voice as by its novelty.\n\nAfter Abon Hassan had drank, he made another lady sit down, and\npresenting her with what she chose in the basins, asked her name,\nwhich she told him was Morning Star. Your bright eyes, said he,\nshine with greater lustre than that star whose name you bear. Do me\nthe pleasure to bring me some wine; which she did with the best\ngrace in the world. Then turning to the third lady, whose name was\nDaylight, he ordered her to do the same, and so on to the seventh,\nto the extreme satisfaction of the caliph.\n\nWhen they had all filled him a glass round, Cluster of Pearls, whom\nhe had just addressed, went to the beaufet, poured out a glass of\nwine, and putting in a pinch of the same powder the caliph had used\nthe night before, presented it to Abon Hassan; Commander of the\nfaithful, said she, I beg of your majesty to take this glass of\nwine, and before you drink it off do me the favour to hear a song I\nhave made to-day, and which I flatter myself may not displease you.\nI never sung it before this evening. With all my heart, said Abon\nHassan, taking the glass, and as commander of the faithful, I\ncommand you to sing it; for I am persuaded that so beautiful a lady\nas yourself cannot make a song which does not abound with wit and\npleasantry. The lady took a lute, and tuning it to her voice, sung\nwith so much justness, grace and expression, that Abon Hassan was in\nperfect ecstacy all the time, and was so much delighted, that he\nordered her to sing it again, and was as much charmed with it as at\nfirst.\n\nWhen the lady had done, Abon Hassan drank off his glass, and turning\nhis head towards her, to give her those praises which he thought due\nto her, was prevented by the powder, which operated so suddenly,\nthat his mouth was wide open, and his eyes close shut, and dropping\nhis head on the table like a man overcome with sleep, he slept as\nprofoundly as the day before at the same time the caliph gave him\nthe powder. One of the ladies stood ready to catch the glass, which\nfell out of his hand; and then the caliph, who took a greater\nsatisfaction in this scene than he had promised himself and was all\nalong a spectator of what had passed, came into the hall to them,\noverjoyed at the success of his plan. He ordered Abon Hassan to be\ndressed again in his own clothes, and to be carried back again to\nhis own house by the same slave that brought him, charging him to\nlay him on a sofa in the same room, without making any noise, and to\nleave the door open when he came away.\n\nThe slave took Abon Hassan upon his shoulders, and carried him home\nby a back door of the palace, placed him in his own house as he was\nordered, and returned with speed, to acquaint the caliph what he had\ndone. Well, said the caliph, Abon Hassan wished only to be caliph\nfor one day, to punish the iman of the mosque of his quarter, and\nthe four scheiks or old men who had displeased him: I have procured\nhim the means of doing this, and he ought to be content.\n\nIn the mean time, Abon Hassan, who was laid upon his sofa by the\nslave, slept till very late the next morning. When the powder was\nworked off, Abon Hassan waked and opened his eyes, and finding\nhimself at home, was in the utmost surprise. Cluster of Pearls!\nMorning Star! Coral Lips! Moon Face! cried he, calling the ladies of\nthe palace by their names, as he remembered them; where are you?\ncome hither.\n\nAbon Hassan called so loud, that his mother, who was in her own\napartment, heard, and running to him upon the noise he made, said,\nWhat ails you, son? what has happened to you? At these words Abon\nHassan lifted up his head, and looking haughtily at his mother,\nsaid, Good woman! who is it you call son? --Why you, answered his\nmother very mildly; are not you Abon Hassan, my son? It is strange\nthat you have forgot yourself so soon. I your son! old trull!\nreplied Abon Hassan; you are a liar, and know not what you say! I am\nnot Abon Hassan, I tell you, but the commander of the faithful!\n\nHold your tongue, son, answered the mother; one would think you are\na fool to hear you talk thus. You are an old fool yourself, replied\nAbon Hassan; I tell you once more I am the commander of the\nfaithful, and God\u2019s vicar on earth! Ah! child, cried the mother,\nis it possible that I should hear you utter such words that show you\nare distracted! What evil genius possesses you, to make you talk at\nthis rate? God bless you, and preserve you from the power of Satan.\nYou are my son Abon Hassan, and I am your mother.\n\nAfter she had made use of all the arguments she could think of to\nbring him to himself, and to show how great an error he was in, she\nsaid, Do not you see, that the room you are now in is your own, and\nis not like a chamber in a palace fit for the commander of the\nbelievers, and that you have never left it since you was born, but\nlived quietly at home with me? Think seriously of what I say, and do\nnot fancy things that are not, nor ever can be. Once more, my son,\nthink seriously of it.\n\nAbon Hassan heard all these remonstrances of his mother very\npatiently, holding down his eyes, and clapping his hands under his\nchin, like a man recollecting himself, to examine the truth of what\nhe saw and heard. At last, he said to his mother, just as if he was\ncome out of a deep sleep, and with his hand in the same posture, I\nbelieve you are right; methinks I am Abon Hassan, you are my mother,\nand I am in my own room. Then looking at her again, and at every\nobject before him, he added, I am Abon Hassan, there is no doubt of\nit, and I cannot comprehend how this fancy came into my head.\n\nThe mother really believed that her son was cured of that disorder\nof his mind, which she ascribed to a dream, and began to laugh with\nhim, and ask him questions about this dream; when all on a sudden he\nstarted up, and looking crossly at his mother, said, Old sorceress,\nyou know not what you say. I am not your son, nor you my mother. You\ndeceive yourself, and would deceive me. I tell you I am the\ncommander of the faithful, and you shall never persuade me to the\ncontrary! For Heaven\u2019s sake, son, said the mother, let us leave\noff this discourse; recommend yourself to God, for fear some\nmisfortune should happen to us: let us talk of something else. I\nwill tell you what happened yesterday in our quarter to the iman of\nthe mosque, and the four scheiks our neighbours; the judge of the\npolice came and seized them, and gave each of them I know not how\nmany strokes with a bull\u2019s pizzle, while a crier proclaimed, That\nwas the punishment of all those who troubled themselves about other\npeople\u2019s business, and employed themselves in setting their\nneighbours at variance: he afterwards led them through all the\nstreets, and ordered them never to come into our quarter again. Abon\nHassan\u2019s mother little thought her son had any share in this\nadventure, and therefore turned the discourse on purpose to put him\nout of the conceit of being the commander of the faithful; but\ninstead of effacing that idea, she rather recalled it, and impressed\nit more deeply in his imagination that it was not imaginary, but\nreal.\n\nAbon Hassan no sooner heard this relation, but he cried out, I am\nneither thy son, nor Abon Hassan, but certainly the commander of the\nbelievers. I cannot doubt of it after what you have told me. Know\nthen that it was by my order that the iman and the four scheiks were\npunished; and I tell you I am certainly the commander of the\nfaithful: therefore tell me no more of its being a dream. I was not\nasleep, but as much awake as I now am. You do me a pleasure to\nconfirm what the judge of the police told me he had executed\npunctually according to my order; and I am overjoyed that the iman\nand the four scheiks, those great hypocrites, were so chastised, and\nI should be glad to know how I came here. God be praised for all\nthings! I am certainly commander of the faithful, and all thy\narguments shall not convince me of the contrary.\n\nThe mother, who could not divine or imagine why her son so\nstrenuously and positively maintained himself to be caliph, never\ndisputed but that he had lost his senses, when she found he insisted\nso much upon a thing that was so incredible; and in this thought,\nsaid, I pray God, son, to have mercy upon you! Pray do not talk so\nmadly. Beseech God to forgive you, and give you grace to talk more\nreasonably. What would the world say to hear you rave in this\nmanner? Do you not know that \u2018walls have ears?\u2019\n\nThese remonstrances only enraged Abon Hassan the more; and he was so\nprovoked at his mother, that he said, Old woman, I have bid you once\nalready to hold your tongue. If you do not, I shall rise and give\nyou cause to repent it all your lifetime. I am the caliph and the\ncommander of the believers; and you ought to believe me when I say\nso.\n\nThen the good woman perceiving that he was more distracted than\never, abandoned herself to tears, and beating her face and breast,\nexpressed the utmost grief and astonishment to see her son in that\nterrible state. Abon Hassan, instead of being appeased, and being\nmoved by his mother\u2019s tears, on the contrary lost all the respect\ndue from a son to his mother, and getting up hastily, and laying\nhold of a cane, ran to his mother in great fury, and in a\nthreatening manner, that would have frightened every one but a\nmother so partial to him, said, Tell me presently, wicked woman, who\nI am. I do not believe, son, replied she, looking at him tenderly,\nand void of fear, that you are so abandoned by God as not to know\nyour mother, who brought you into the world, and to mistake\nyourself. You are indeed my son Abon Hassan, and are very much in\nthe wrong to arrogate to yourself the title which belongs only to\nour sovereign lord the caliph Haroun Alraschid, after the noble and\ngenerous present the monarch made us yesterday. In short, I forgot\nto tell you, that the grand vizier Giafar came to me yesterday, and\nputting a purse of a thousand pieces of gold into my hands, bid me\npray for the commander of the faithful, who made me that present;\nand does not this liberality concern you more than me, who have but\na short time to live?\n\nAt these words Abon Hassan grew quite mad. The circumstance of the\ncaliph\u2019s liberality his mother told him of, persuaded him more\nthan ever that he was caliph, remembering that he had sent the\nvizier. Well, old hag, cried he, will you be convinced when I tell\nyou I sent you those thousand pieces of gold by my grand vizier\nGiafar, who obeyed my commands, as I was commander of the faithful?\nBut instead of believing me you endeavour to distract me by your\ncontradictions, and maintain with obstinacy that I am your son, but\nyou shall not go long unpunished. After these words, he was so\nunnatural, in the height of his frenzy, as to beat her cruelly with\nhis cane.\n\nThe poor mother, who could not have thought that her son would have\ncome so soon from words to blows, called out for help so loud, that\nthe neighbours ran in to her assistance. Abon Hassan continued to\nbeat her, at every stroke asking her if he was the commander of the\nfaithful? To which she always answered tenderly, that he was her son.\n\nBy that time the neighbours came in, Abon Hassan\u2019s rage began to\nabate. The first who entered the room got between him and his\nmother, and taking the cane out of his hand, said to him, What are\nyou doing, Abon Hassan? have you lost all fear of God, and your\nreason? Did ever a son so well brought up as you, dare to strike his\nmother? Are you not ashamed so to treat yours, who loves you so\ntenderly? Abon Hassan, still full of fury, looked at him that spoke\nwithout returning an answer; and then staring on all the rest of his\nneighbours that followed him, said, Who is that Abon Hassan you\nspeak of? Is it me you call by that name?\n\nThis question disconcerted the neighbours a little. How! said he who\nspoke first, do not you know your mother, who brought you up, and\nwith whom you have always lived? Begone, you are impertinent people,\nreplied Abon Hassan; I neither know her nor you, and will not know\nher. I am not Abon Hassan; I am the commander of the faithful, and\nwill make you know it to your cost.\n\nAt this discourse the neighbours no longer doubted that he was mad;\nand to prevent his being guilty of the like actions, seized him,\nnotwithstanding his resistance, and bound him hand and foot. But\nthough apparently disabled from doing any mischief, they did not\nchoose to leave him alone with his mother. Two of them ran for the\nkeeper of the hospital for mad folks, who came presently with\nchains, hand-cuffs, a bull\u2019s pizzle, and a great many attendants.\nWhen they entered the room, Abon Hassan, who little expected such\ntreatment, struggled to unloose himself; but after his keeper had\ngiven him two or three smart strokes upon the shoulders with the\nbull\u2019s pizzle, he lay so quiet, that the keeper and his people did\nwhat they would with him. As soon as they had bound and manacled\nhim, they took him with them to the hospital. When he was got out of\nhis house into the street, the people crowded round him; one\nbuffeted him, another boxed him, and others called him fool and\nmadman. To all this treatment he replied, There is no greatness and\npower but in God most high and almighty. I am treated as a fool,\nthough I am in my right senses. I suffer all these injuries and\nindignities for the love of God. He was conducted to the hospital,\nwhere he was lodged in an iron cage; but before he was shut up, the\nkeeper, who was hardened to such terrible execution, regaled him\nwithout pity with fifty strokes of the bull\u2019s pizzle on his\nshoulders, which he repeated every day for three weeks, bidding him\nremember that he was not the commander of the faithful. I am not\nmad; but if I did want your assistance, nothing would so effectually\nmake me mad, as your cruel treatment of me. I want not your advice,\nsaid Abon Hassan.\n\nAbon Hassan\u2019s mother went every day to see her son, and could not\nforbear crying to see him fall away daily, and to hear him sigh and\ncomplain at the hardships he endured. In short his shoulders, back,\nand sides, were so black and bruised, that he could not turn\nhimself. His mother would willingly have talked with him, to comfort\nhim, and to sound him whether he still retained the notion of being\ncaliph; but whenever she opened her mouth he stopped her with so\nmuch fury, that she was forced to leave him, and return home\ninconsolable at his obstinacy.\n\nBy degrees those strong and lively ideas which Abon Hassan\nentertained, of having been clothed in the caliph\u2019s habit, and\nhaving exercised his authority, and been punctually obeyed and\ntreated like the true caliph, and which persuaded him when he awaked\nthat he was so, all began to wear away insensibly. Sometimes he\nwould say to himself, If I was the caliph and commander of the\nbelievers, how came I, when I awaked, to find myself at home,\ndressed in my own apparel? Why should I not have been attended by\neunuchs, and their chief, and a crowd of beautiful ladies? Why\nshould my grand vizier Giafar, and all those emirs and governors of\nprovinces, who prostrated themselves at my feet, forsake me?\nUndoubtedly if I had any authority over them, they would have\ndelivered me long ago out of this miserable condition I am in;\ncertainly I ought to look upon all as a dream. It is true I\ncommanded the judge of the police to punish the iman and the four\nold men his companions; I ordered Giafar the grand vizier to carry\nmy mother a thousand pieces of gold; and all my commands were\nexecuted. All these things are obstacles to my believing it a dream,\nand I cannot comprehend it; but there are so many things that I\ncannot comprehend, nor ever shall, that I will put my trust in God,\nwho knows all things.\n\nAbon Hassan was taken up with these thoughts and reflections when\nhis mother came to see him. She found him so much altered and\nemaciated, that she let fall a torrent of tears; in the midst of\nwhich she saluted him as she used to do, and he returned her salute,\nwhich he had never done before, since he had been in the hospital.\nThis she looked upon to be a good sign. Well, my son, said she,\nwiping her tears, how do you do, and how do you find yourself? Have\nyou renounced all those whims and fancies which the devil had put\ninto your head? Indeed, mother, replied Abon Hassan, very rationally\nand calmly, and in a tone expressive of his grief for the excesses\nhe had been transported to against her, I acknowledge my error, and\nbeg of you to forgive the execrable crime which I have been guilty\nof towards you, and which I detest. I ask pardon also of my\nneighbours that I have abused. I have been deceived by a dream; but\nby so extraordinary a one, and so like to truth, that I venture to\naffirm any other person, to whom such a thing might have happened,\nwould have been guilty of as great or greater extravagancies; and I\nam this instant so much perplexed about it, that while I am speaking\nI can hardly persuade myself but that what has happened to me was a\nmatter of fact, so like was it to what happens to people who are\nbroad awake. But whatever it was, I do, and shall always look upon\nit as a dream and an illusion. I am convinced that I am not that\nshadow of a caliph and commander of the faithful, but Abon Hassan\nyour son, the son of a person whom I have always honoured till that\nfatal day, the remembrance of which will cover me with confusion,\nand whom I shall honour and respect all my life as I ought.\n\nAt these sensible words, the tears of sorrow and affliction which\nthe mother of Abon Hassan had so long shed were changed into those\nof joy, to find her son so well recovered. My son! cried she,\ntransported with pleasure, my satisfaction and comfort to hear you\ntalk so reasonably is inexpressible; and it gives me as much joy as\nif I had brought you into the world a second time; but I must tell\nyou my opinion upon this adventure, and observe one thing which you\nmay not have taken notice of; the stranger that you brought home\nwith you one evening to sup with you, went away without shutting\nyour chamber-door after him, as you desired him; which I believe\ngave the devil an opportunity to enter, and throw you into that\nhorrible illusion you were in: and, therefore, my son, you ought to\nreturn God thanks for your deliverance, and beseech him to keep you\nfrom falling again into the snares of the evil spirit.\n\nYou have found out the source of my misfortunes, answered Abon\nHassan. It was that very night I had this dream which turned my\nbrain. I bid the merchant expressly to shut the door after him; and\nnow I find he did not do it. I am persuaded, as well as you, the\ndevil, finding it open, came in, and filled my head full of these\nfancies. The people of Moussol, from whence this merchant came, may\nnot know how we at Bagdad are well convinced that the devil is the\ncause of troublesome dreams when we leave our chamber-doors open.\nBut since, mother, you see I am, by the grace of God, so well\nrecovered, for God\u2019s sake get me out of this hellish place, and\ndeliver me from the hand of this executioner, who will infallibly\nshorten my days if I stay here any longer. The mother, glad to hear\nher son was so well cured of his foolish imagination of being\ncaliph, went immediately to the keeper, and assuring him that he was\nvery sensible and well, he came and examined him, and released him\nin her presence.\n\nWhen Abon Hassan came home, he staid within doors some days, to\nrecover his health by better living than he had found in the\nhospital. But when he had recovered his strength, and felt no more\neffect of the harsh treatment he had suffered in his confinement, he\nbegan to be weary of spending his evenings alone. He presently\nentered again upon the same way of living as before; which was, to\nprovide enough every day to regale a new stranger at night.\n\nThe day on which Abon Hassan renewed his custom of going about\nsunset to the foot of Bagdad bridge to stop the first stranger that\noffered, and desire him to do him the honour of supping with him,\nhappened to be the first day of the month, which was the day that\nthe caliph always set apart to go in disguise out of some of the\ncity-gates to observe with his own eyes what was committed contrary\nto the good government of the city, as he had established and\nregulated it at the beginning of his reign. He had not been long\narrived at the bridge, and sat himself on a bench which was fixed to\nthe parapet, when, looking about him, he perceived the caliph\ndisguised again like a Moussol merchant, and followed by the same\nslave. Persuaded that all his misfortunes were owing to the caliph\n(whom he took for a merchant) leaving his door open, he shuddered at\nthe sight of him. God preserve me! said he to himself; if I am not\ndeceived, there is the magician again that enchanted me! and\nthereupon got up, and looked over the parapet into the river, that\nhe might not see him till he was past.\n\nThe caliph, who had a mind to carry on the diversion he had received\nby Abon Hassan, had taken care to inform himself of all that had\nhappened when Abon Hassan awaked at home, and conceived a great\npleasure at the relation given him, especially at his being sent to\na madhouse, and the treatment he received there. But as this monarch\nwas both just and generous, and had taken a great liking to Abon\nHassan, as capable of contributing further to his amusement, and had\ndoubted whether, after renouncing his pretended character of a\ncaliph, he would return to his usual manner of living, he designed,\nwith a view to get him nearer him, to dress himself again like a\nmerchant of Moussol, the better to execute his plan. He perceived\nAbon Hassan at the same time that he saw him, and presently guessed\nby his action that he was angry with him, and wanted to shun him.\nThis made him walk close to the parapet Abon Hassan leaned over; and\nwhen he came nigh him, he put his head over to look him in the face.\nHo, brother Abon Hassan, said he, is it you? I greet you! Give me\nleave to embrace you! Not I, replied Abon Hassan, briskly, without\nlooking at the pretended Moussol merchant; I do not greet you; I\nwill have neither your greeting nor your embraces. Go along!\n\nWhat! answered the caliph, do you not know me? Do you not remember\nthe evening we spent together at your house this day month, where\nyou did me the honour to treat me very generously? No, replied Abon\nHassan in the same tone, I do not know you, nor what you talk about;\ngo, I say again, about your business.\n\nThe caliph was not to be dashed with this rude behaviour of Abon\nHassan. He knew very well the law he had imposed on himself, never\nto have any commerce again with a stranger he had once entertained;\nbut though Abon Hassan had declared so much to him, he pretended to\nbe ignorant of it. I cannot believe, said he, but you must know me\nagain; it is not possible that you should have forgotten me in so\nshort a time. Certainly some misfortune has befallen you, which\ninspires you with this aversion for me. However, you ought to\nremember, that I showed my gratitude by my good wishes, and that I\noffered you my interest, which is not to be slighted, in an affair\nwhich you had very much at heart.\n\nI do not know, replied Abon Hassan, what your interest may be, and I\nhave no desire to make use of it; but I am sensible the utmost of\nyour good wishes ended in making me mad. In God\u2019s name, I say,\nonce more, go your way, and trouble me no more.\n\nAh! brother Abon Hassan, replied the caliph, embracing him, I do not\nintend to part with you in this manner, since I have had the good\nfortune to meet with you a second time; you must exercise the same\nhospitality towards me again, that you showed me a month ago, when I\nhad the honour to drink with you.\n\nI have protested against it, said Abon Hassan, and have so much\npower over myself, not to receive a second time such an unlucky man\nas you. You know the proverb, \u2018Take up your drum and begone.\u2019\nMake the application to yourself. How often must I repeat it? God be\nwith you! You have been the cause of my misfortune, and I will not\nventure myself with you again. My good friend Abon Hassan, said the\ncaliph, embracing him again, you treat me in a way I little\nexpected. I beg of you not to talk to me in this harsh manner, but\nbe persuaded of my friendship. Do me the favour to tell me what has\nhappened to you; for I assure you, I wished you well, and still do\nso; and would be glad of an opportunity to make you any amends for\nthe trouble I have caused you, if it has been really my fault. Abon\nHassan yielded to the pressing instances of the caliph, and bid him\nsit down by him. Your incredulity and importunity, said he, have\ntired my patience; and what I am going to tell you will show you\nthat I do not accuse you wrongfully.\n\nThe caliph sat down by Abon Hassan, while he told him all that had\nhappened to him, from his waking in the palace to his waking again\nin his own house, all as a mere dream, with all the circumstances\nwhich the caliph knew as well as himself, and which renewed his\npleasure. He enlarged afterwards upon the impression that dream of\nbeing caliph and commander of the faithful made upon him, which he\nsaid, threw him into such extravagancies, that his neighbours were\nobliged to bind him as a madman, and carry him to a madhouse, where\nhe was treated in a way that must seem very barbarous. But, said he,\nwhat will surprise you, and what you little think of, is, that it\nwas altogether your fault that these things fell out; for, if you\nremember, I desired you to shut the door after you, which you\nneglected, and the devil, finding it open, put this dream into my\nhead, which, though it was very agreeable, was the cause of the\nmisfortune I complain of: you, therefore, for your negligence, are\nanswerable for the horrid and detestable crime I was guilty of in\nlifting my hand against my mother, whom I might have killed, and\ncommitted parricide (I blush for shame when I think of it,) only\nbecause she said I was her son, and she would not acknowledge me for\nthe commander of the faithful, as I thought, and positively insisted\non to her that I was. You are the cause of the offence I have given\nmy neighbours, when, running in at the cries of my poor mother, they\nsurprised me bent on knocking her down; which would never have\nhappened, if you had taken care to shut my chamber door when you\nwent away, as I desired you. They would not have come into my house\nwithout my leave; and, what troubles me most of all, they would not\nhave been witness of my folly. I should not have been obliged to\nstrike them in my own defence, and they would not have bound and\nfettered me to carry me and shut me up in the hospital for madmen,\nwhere I assure you every day that I remained confined in that hell,\nI received a score of strokes with a bull\u2019s pizzle. Abon Hassan\nrecounted his complaints with great heat and vehemence to the\ncaliph, who knew better than he what had passed, and was delighted\nto find that he had succeeded so well in his plan to throw him into\nthe vagaries he still was in. He could not help bursting out a\nlaughing at the simplicity wherewith he related them.\n\nAbon Hassan, who thought that his story should rather move\ncompassion, and that every one ought to be as much concerned at it\nas himself, very much resented the pretended Moussol merchant\u2019s\nlaughter: What! said he, do you make a jest of me, and laugh in my\nface, or do you believe I laugh at you when I speak seriously? if\nyou want proof of what I advance, look here yourself and see whether\nor no I tell you the truth: with that, stooping down and baring his\nshoulders, he showed the caliph the scars and weals the bull\u2019s\npizzle had made.\n\nThe caliph could not behold those objects without horror. He pitied\npoor Abon Hassan, and was sorry he had carried the jest so far.\nCome, rise, dear brother, said he to him very seriously, and\nembracing Abon Hassan heartily in his arms; let us go to your house,\nand enjoy the happiness of being merry with you to-night; and\nto-morrow, if it please God, all things will go well.\n\nAbon Hassan, notwithstanding his resolution and oath never to admit\nthe same stranger a second time, could not resist the caresses of\nthe caliph, whom he always took for a merchant of Moussol. I will\nconsent, said he, if you will swear to shut my door after you, that\nthe devil may not come in to distract my brain again. The caliph\npromised that he would; upon which they both got up, walked towards\nthe city, and followed by the caliph\u2019s slave, reached Abon\nHassan\u2019s house by the time it was dark.\n\nThe caliph, the more to engage Abon Hassan, said to him, Place a\nconfidence in me; I promise you on my honour I will not break my\nword. After this, you need not hesitate to trust in a person like\nme, who wishes you all happiness and prosperity, of which you will\nsee the effects. I desire not that, said Abon Hassan, stopping him\nshort. I yield to your importunity; but I dispense with your good\nwishes, and beg you in God\u2019s name to form none for me. All the\nmischief that has hitherto befallen me arose purely from those you\nalready expressed for me, and from your leaving the door open. Well,\nreplied the caliph, still laughing at the misguided imagination of\nAbon Hassan, since you will have it so, be it so; I promise you I\nwill form none. You do me pleasure by speaking so, said Abon Hassan;\nI desire no more; I shall be more than satisfied provided you keep\nyour word, and I shall forgive you all the rest.\n\nAs soon as Abon Hassan entered the doors, he called for his mother\nand for candles, and desired his guest to sit down upon a sofa, and\nthen placed himself by him. A little time after, supper was brought\nup, and they both fell to without ceremony. When they had done, Abon\nHassan\u2019s mother cleared the table, set on a small dessert of\nfruit, wine and glasses by her son, and withdrew, and appeared no\nmore. Abon Hassan first filled his own glass, and then the\ncaliph\u2019s; and after they had drank some time, and talked of\nindifferent matters, the caliph perceiving that his host grew warm\nwith liquor, began to talk of love, and asked him if he had ever\nfelt that passion.\n\nBrother, replied Abon Hassan, familiarly, thinking his guest was his\nequal, I never looked upon love or marriage but as a slavery, to\nwhich I was always unwilling to submit; and must own to you, that I\nnever loved any thing but good cheer and good wine; in short, to\ndivert and entertain myself agreeably with my friends. Yet I do not\ntell you that I am so indifferent to marriage or incapable of\nattachment, if I could meet with a woman of such beauty and\nsweetness of temper as her I saw in my dream on that fatal night I\nfirst received you into my house, and you, to my misfortune, left my\ndoor open, who would pass the whole night with me drinking, singing,\nand playing on some instrument, and in agreeable conversation, and\nwho would study to please and divert me: I believe, on the contrary,\nI should change all my indifference into a perfect attachment to\nsuch a person, and, I think, should live very happily with her. But\nwhere is such a woman to be found but in the caliph\u2019s palace, or\nin those of the grand vizier or some great lords of the court who\nwant no money to provide them? I choose therefore to stick close to\nmy bottle, which is a much cheaper pleasure, and which I can enjoy\nas well as they. Saying these words, he filled out his own and the\ncaliph\u2019s glass, and said, Come, take your glass, and let us pursue\nthis charming pleasure.\n\nWhen they had drank off their wine, It is great pity, said the\ncaliph, that so gallant a man as you, who owns himself not\ninsensible of love, should lead so solitary a life. I prefer the\neasy quiet life I live, replied Abon Hassan, before the company of a\nwife, whose beauty might not please me, and who, besides, might\ncreate me a great deal of trouble by her imperfections and\nill-humour. The conversation lasted a long time, and the caliph\nseeing Abon Hassan had drank up to the pitch he desired, said, Let\nme alone, since you have the same good taste as every other honest\nman, I warrant you I will find you one that shall please you. Then\ntaking Abon Hassan\u2019s glass, and putting a pinch of the same powder\ninto it again, filled him up a bumper and presenting it to him,\nsaid, Come let us drink beforehand the fair lady\u2019s health, who is\nto make you happy. I am sure you will like her.\n\nAbon Hassan took the glass laughing, and shaking his head, said, Be\nit so; since you desire it, I cannot be guilty of so great a piece\nof incivility, nor disoblige a guest of so much merit in such a\ntrifling matter. I will drink the lady\u2019s health you promise me,\nthough I am very well contented as I am, and do not rely on your\npromise. But no sooner had Abon Hassan drank off his bumper, than he\nwas seized with as deep a sleep as before, and the caliph ordered\nthe same slave to take him and carry him to the palace. The slave\ndid so, and the caliph, who did not intend to send back Abon Hassan\nas before, shut the door after him, as he had promised, and followed\nthe slave carrying Abon Hassan.\n\nWhen they arrived at the palace, the caliph ordered Abon Hassan to\nbe laid on a sofa, in the fourth hall, from whence he was carried\nhome fast asleep a month before; but first he bid them put him on\nthe same habit which he acted the caliph in, which was done\nforthwith before him. He then sent every body to bed, and charged\nall the eunuchs, officers, ladies, and musicians who were in the\nhall, when he drank the last glass of wine which had put him to\nsleep, to be there by daybreak, and to take care to act their parts\nwell when he should awake. He then went to bed, charging Mesrour to\nawake him before they went into the hall, that he might conceal\nhimself in the closet as before.\n\nMesrour, at the hour appointed, awakened the caliph, who immediately\nrose and went to the hall where Abon Hassan lay fast asleep, and\nwhen he had placed himself in his closet, Mesrour and the other\nofficers, ladies and musicians, who waited for him, went in, and\nplaced themselves about the sofa, so as not to hinder the caliph\nfrom seeing what passed, and noticing all his actions.\n\nThings being thus disposed, and the caliph\u2019s powder having had its\neffect, Abon Hassan began to awake without opening his eyes, and\nthrew off the phlegm, which was received in a gold basin as before.\nIn that moment the seven bands of musicians joined their charming\nvoices to the sound of hautboys, fifes, flutes and other\ninstruments, forming a very agreeable concert. Abon Hassan was in\ngreat surprise to hear that delightful harmony; but when he opened\nhis eyes, and saw the ladies and officers about him, whom he thought\nhe knew again, his amazement increased. The hall that he was in,\nseemed to be the same he saw in his first dream, and he observed the\nsame lustres, and the same furniture and ornaments.\n\nThe concert ceased, to give the caliph an opportunity of attending\nto the countenance of his new guest, and all that he might say in\nhis surprise. The ladies, Mesrour, and all the officers of the\nchamber, waited in profound and respectful silence. Abon Hassan bit\nhis finger, and cried loud enough for the caliph to hear him, Alas!\nI am fallen again into the same dream and illusion that happened to\nme a month ago, and must expect again the bull\u2019s pizzle and iron\ncage at the madhouse. Almighty God, added he, I commit myself into\nthe hands of thy divine providence. He was a wicked man that I\nentertained at my house last night, who has been the cause of this\nillusion, and the hardships I must undergo. The base wretch swore to\nshut the door after him, but did not, and the devil came in and has\nturned my brain with this wicked dream of being commander of the\nfaithful, and other phantoms which bewitch my eyes. God confound\nthee, Satan, and crush thee under some mountain of stones.\n\nAfter these last words, Abon Hassan closed his eyes, and remained\nsometime thoughtful and very much perplexed; then opening them\nagain, and looking about him, cried out a second time with less\nsurprise, and smiling at the various objects before him, Great God!\nI commit myself into the hands of thy providence; preserve me from\nthe temptations of Satan. Then shutting them again, he said, I know\nwhat I will do: I will go to sleep until Satan leaves me, and\nreturns as he came, were I to wait till noon. They did not give him\ntime to go to sleep again, as he had promised himself: for Strength\nof Hearts, one of the ladies whom he had seen before, approached,\nand sitting down on the sofa by him, said to him respectfully,\nCommander of the faithful, I intreat your majesty to forgive me for\ntaking the liberty to tell you not to go to sleep; day appears, and\nit is time to rise. Begone, Satan! answered Abon Hassan, raising his\nvoice: but looking upon the lady, he said, is it me you call the\ncommander of the faithful? Certainly you take me for somebody else.\nIt is to your majesty I give that title, replied the lady, to whom\nit belongs, as you are sovereign of the Mussulman world, and I am\nyour most humble slave. Undoubtedly, added she, your majesty means\nto divert yourself by pretending to have forgotten yourself, or this\nis the effect of some troublesome dream; but if you would but open\nyour eyes, the mists which may disturb your imagination will soon be\ndispelled, and you will find yourself in your own palace, surrounded\nby your officers and slaves, who all wait your commands: and that\nyour majesty may not be surprised to find yourself in this hall, and\nnot in bed, I beg leave to tell you, that you fell so suddenly\nasleep last night, that we were unwilling to wake you, to conduct\nyou to your chamber, but laid you carefully upon the sofa. In short,\nshe said to him so many things that appeared probable, that at last\nhe sat up, opened his eyes, and recollected her and all the ladies\nagain. They all drew near, and she who spoke first, resuming the\ndiscourse, said, Commander of the faithful, and vicar of the prophet\non earth, be not displeased if I acquaint your majesty once more\nthat it is time to rise, for day appears.\n\nYou are very troublesome and importunate, replied Abon Hassan,\nrubbing his eyes: I am not the commander of the faithful, but Abon\nHassan; I know it well, and you shall not persuade me otherwise. We\ndo not know that Abon Hassan your majesty speaks of, nor desire to\nknow him, answered the lady; but we know you to be commander of the\nbelievers, and you cannot persuade us to the contrary.\n\nAbon Hasan looking about and finding himself in the same hall,\nattributed all he saw and heard to such a dream as he had before,\nand very much feared the dreadful consequences. God have mercy on\nme! said he, lifting up his hands and eyes, like a man who knew not\nwhere he was; I commit myself into his hands. I cannot doubt, after\nwhat I have seen, but that the devil, who came into my chamber,\npossesses me, and fills my imagination full of all these visions.\n\nThe caliph, who saw him all the time, and heard these acclamations,\nbegan laughing so heartily, that he had much ado to forbear bursting\ninto loud laughter.\n\nAbon Hassan laying himself down again, and shutting his eyes, the\nsame lady again said, Commander of the faithful, since your majesty\ndoes not rise, after we have, according to our duty, informed you it\nwas day, and the despatch of business requires your presence, we\nshall use the liberty you give us in such cases. Then taking him by\none arm, and calling to one of the other ladies to do the same by\nthe other, they lifted him up, and carried him into the middle of\nthe hall, where they set him on his breech, and taking all hands,\ndanced and skipped round him while the music played and rattled in\nhis ears.\n\nAbon Hassan was in an inexpressible perplexity of mind, and said,\nWhat! am I indeed caliph, and commander of the faithful? And in the\nuncertainty he was in, would have said something more, but the music\nwas so loud, that he could not be heard. At last he made a sign to\nString of Pearls and Morning Star, two of the ladies who were\ndancing, that he wanted to speak with them; upon which they forbore,\nand went to him. Do not lie now, said he, but tell me truly who I am?\n\nCommander of the faithful, replied Morning Star, your majesty means\neither to surprise us, by asking this question, as if you did not\nknow that you are commander of the faithful, and the vicar on earth\nof the prophet of God, master of both worlds, that whereon we now\nare and that to come after death, or else you must have had some\nvery extraordinary dream to-night, which has made you forget who you\nare; which may very well be, considering that your majesty has slept\nlonger to-night than ordinary: however, if you will give me leave, I\nwill refresh your memory with what passed yesterday. Then she told\nhim how he went to the council, punished the iman, and the four old\nmen, and sent a present by his grand vizier of a thousand pieces of\ngold to the mother of one Abon Hassan; what he did in the inner part\nof the palace, and what passed at the three meals which he took in\nthe three halls, and how in the fourth your majesty did us the\nhonour to make us sit down by you, to hear our songs, and receive\nwine from our hands, until your majesty fell so fast asleep, as\nStrength of Hearts has told you. From that time your majesty has\ncontinued, contrary to custom, in a sound sleep until now.\n--Strength of Hearts, all your other slaves, and the officers\npresent, can confirm what I say, and it is now time you should go to\nprayers.\n\nVery well, replied Abon Hassan, shaking his head, you would have me\nbelieve all this; but I tell you, you are all fools, or mad, and\nthat is a great pity, for you are very pretty. Since I saw you I\nhave been at home, where I used my mother so ill that they sent me\nto a mad-house, and kept me there three weeks against my will, and\nbeat me every day with a bull\u2019s pizzle, and yet you would make me\nbelieve all this to be a dream. Commander of the faithful, answered\nMorning Star, you are mistaken; we are all ready to swear by all\nthat your majesty holds most dear that all you tell is a dream. You\nnever stirred out of this hall since yesterday, but slept here all\nnight long.\n\nThe confidence with which the lady assured Abon Hassan that all she\nsaid was truth, and that he had never been out of the hall since\nthat time, made him not know what to believe, but bewildered his\nsenses. O Heaven! said he to himself, am I Abon Hassan, or the\ncommander of the faithful? Almighty God, enlighten my understanding,\nand inform me of the truth, that I may know what to trust to. Then\nhe uncovered his shoulders, and shewed the ladies the livid weals of\nthe blows he had received. Look, said he; judge whether these\nstrokes could come to me in a dream, or when I was asleep. For my\npart, I can affirm, that they were real blows; I feel the smart of\nthem yet, and that is a testimonial there is no room to doubt of.\nNow if I received these strokes in my sleep, it is the most\nextraordinary thing in the world, and surpasses my comprehension.\n\nIn this uncertainty Abon Hassan called to one of the officers that\nstood round him: Come hither, said he, and bite the tip of my ear,\nthat I may know whether I am asleep or awake. The officer obeyed\nhim, and bit so hard that he made him cry out horridly; the music\nstruck up at the same time, and the officers and ladies all began to\nsing, dance, and skip about Abon Hassan, and made such a noise, that\nhe was in perfect enthusiasm, and played a thousand merry tricks. He\ntore off his caliph\u2019s habit, threw off his turban, and jumped up\nin his shirt and drawers, and taking hold of two of the ladies\u2019\nhands, fell a dancing and singing and jumping and cutting capers,\nthat the caliph could not contain himself, but burst into such\nviolent laughter at this sudden pleasantry of Abon Hassan, that he\nfell backwards, and made a greater noise than all the musicians\ntogether. He was so long before he could check himself, that it had\nlike to have hurt him. At last he got up, and opened the lattice,\nand putting out his head, cried out, Abon Hassan, Abon Hassan, have\nyou a mind to kill me with laughing?\n\nAs soon as the caliph\u2019s voice was heard, every body was silent,\nand Abon Hassan, among the rest, who, turning his head to see from\nwhence the voice came, knew the caliph, and the Moussol merchant,\nbut was not in the least dashed; on the contrary, he found that he\nwas awake, and all that had happened to him was matter of fact, and\nnot a dream. He entered into the caliph\u2019s pleasantry and\nintention. Ha! ha! said he, looking at him with good assurance, you\nare a merchant of Moussol, and complain that I would kill you; you\nhave been the occasion of my using my mother so ill, and being sent\nto a mad-house. It was you who treated the iman and the four scheiks\nin the manner they were used, and not me; I wash my hands of it. It\nwas you who have been the cause of all my disorders and sufferings:\nin short, you are the aggressor, and I the injured person.\n\nIndeed, you are in the right of it, Abon Hassan, answered the\ncaliph, laughing all the while; but to comfort you, and make you\namends for all your troubles, I call Heaven to witness, I am ready\nand willing to make you what reparation you please to ask. After\nthese words, he came out of the closet into the hall, and ordered\none of his most magnificent habits to be brought, and commanded the\nladies to dress Abon Hassan in it; and when they had done so, he\nsaid, embracing him, Thou art my brother; ask what thou wilt, and\nthou shalt have it.\n\nCommander of the faithful, replied Abon Hassan, I beg of your\nmajesty to do me the favour to tell me what you did to disturb my\nbrain in this manner, and what was your design; for it is a thing of\nthe greatest importance for me to know, that I may perfectly recover\nmy senses.\n\nThe caliph was ready to give him that satisfaction, and said, First\nyou are to know, that I often disguise myself, and particularly at\nnight, to observe if all goes right in Bagdad; and as I wish to know\nwhat passes in its environs, I set apart the first day of every\nmonth to make a tour about it, sometimes on one side, and sometimes\non another, and always return by the bridge. The evening that you\ninvited me to supper, I had been taking my rounds, and in our\nconversation you told me, that the only thing you wished for was to\nbe caliph for four-and-twenty hours, to punish the iman of your\nmosque and his four counsellors. I fancied that this desire of yours\nwould afford me a great deal of diversion, and thought immediately\nhow I might procure you that satisfaction. I had about me a certain\npowder, which immediately throws the person who takes it into a\nsound sleep for a certain time. I put a dose of it, without being\nperceived by you, into the last glass I presented you, upon which\nyou fell fast asleep, and I ordered my slave to carry you to my\npalace, and came away without shutting the door. I have no occasion\nto repeat what happened at my palace when you awaked, and during the\nwhole day till evening; but after you had been regaled by my orders,\none of the slaves who waited on you put another dose of the same\npowder at night into a glass she gave you; you fell asleep as\nbefore, and the same slave carried you home, and left the door open.\nYou have told me all that happened to you afterwards. I never\nimagined that you could have suffered so much as you have done. But\nas I have a great regard for you, I will do every thing to comfort\nyou, and make you forget all your sufferings; think of what I can do\nto please you, and ask me boldly what you wish.\n\nCommander of the faithful, replied Abon Hassan, how great soever my\ntortures may have been, they are all blotted out of my remembrance,\nas soon as I understand my sovereign lord and master had any share\nin them. I doubt not in the least of your majesty\u2019s bounty; but as\ninterest never governed me, and you give me liberty to ask a favour,\nI beg that it may be that of having access to your person, to have\nthe happiness of admiring, all my lifetime, your grandeur.\n\nThis last proof of disinterestedness in Abon Hassan completed the\nesteem the caliph had entertained for him. I am pleased with your\nrequest, said the caliph, and grant you free access to my person at\nall times and all hours. At the same time, he assigned him an\napartment in the palace, and, in regard to his pension, told him\nthat he would not have him apply to his treasurer, but come always\nto him for an order upon him; and immediately ordered his private\ntreasurer to give him a purse containing a thousand pieces of gold.\nAbon Hassan made a low bow; and the caliph left him to go to council.\n\nAbon Hassan took this opportunity to go and inform his mother of his\ngood fortune, and what had happened, which he told her was not a\ndream; for that he had actually been caliph, and had acted as such,\nand received all the honours, and that she had no reason to doubt\nit, since he had it confirmed by the caliph himself.\n\nIt was not long before this story of Abon Hassan was spread over\nBagdad, and carried into all the provinces both far and near,\nwithout the omission of a single circumstance.\n\nThe new favourite, Abon Hassan, was always with the caliph; for, as\nhe was a man of a pleasant temper, and created mirth wherever he\nwent by his wit and pleasantry, the caliph could not live without\nhim. He formed no party of diversion without him, and sometimes\ncarried him along with him to see his consort Zobiede, to whom he\nhad told his story, which so highly pleased him, as it did Zobiede;\nwho observed that every time he came with the caliph, he had his\neyes always fixed upon one of her slaves, called Nouzhatoul-aouadat,\n(which is to say, _renewed pleasure_,) and resolved to tell the\ncaliph of it. Commander of the faithful, said that princess one day,\nyou do not observe so well as I, that every time Abon Hassan attends\nyou in your visits to me, he never keeps his eyes off\nNouzhatoul-aouadat, and makes her blush, which is almost a certain\nsign that she entertains no aversion for him. If you approve of it,\nwe will make a match between them.\n\nMadam, replied the caliph, you put me in mind of a thing which I\nought to have done before now. I know Abon Hassan\u2019s opinion\nrespecting marriage from himself, and have always promised him a\nwife that should please him. I am glad you mentioned it; for I know\nnot now I came to forget it. But it is better that Abon Hassan\nshould follow his own inclination, and choose for himself; and if\nNouzhatoul-aouadat is not averse to it, we ought not to hesitate\nupon their marriage; and since they are both present, they have only\nto say that they consent.\n\nAbon Hassan threw himself at the caliph\u2019s and Zobeide\u2019s feet to\nshow the sense he had of their goodness to him; and, rising up,\nsaid, I cannot receive a wife from better hands, but dare not hope\nthat Nouzhatoul-aouadat will give me her hand as readily as I give\nher mine. At these words he looked upon the princess\u2019s slave, who\nshowed by her respectful silence, and the sudden blush that arose in\nher cheeks, that she was disposed to obey the caliph and her\nmistress Zobiede.\n\nThe marriage was solemnized, and the nuptials celebrated in the\npalace with great rejoicings, which lasted several days. Zobeide, in\npleasure to the caliph, made her slave considerable presents, and\nthe caliph did the same to Abon Hassan. The bride was conducted to\nthe apartment the caliph had assigned Abon Hassan, who waited for\nher with all the impatience of a bridegroom, and received her with\nthe sound of all sorts of instruments, and musicians of both sexes,\nwho made the air echo again with their concert.\n\nAfter these feasts and rejoicings, which lasted several days, the\nnew married couple were left to pursue their loves in peace. --Abon\nHassan and his spouse were charmed with each other, and lived\ntogether in perfect union, and seldom were asunder, but when either\nhe paid his respects to the caliph, or she to Zobeide. Indeed,\nNouzhatoul-aouadat was endued with every qualification capable of\ngaining Abon Hassan\u2019s love and attachment, and was just such a\nwife as he described to the caliph, and fit to sit at the head of\nhis table. With these dispositions they could not fail to pass their\nlives agreeably. They kept a good table, covered with the nicest and\nchoicest rarities in season, by an excellent cook, who took upon him\nto provide every thing. Their sideboard was always stored with\nexquisite wines, placed within their reach when at table, where they\nenjoyed themselves in an agreeable tete-a-tete, and afterwards\nentertained each other with some pleasantry or other, which made\nthem laugh more or less, as they had in the day met with something\nto divert them; and in the evenings, which they consecrated to\nmirth, they had generally some slight repast of dried sweetmeats,\nchoice fruits, and cakes; and at each glass invited each other by\nnew songs to drink, and sometimes accompanied their voices with a\nlute, or other instruments, which they could both touch.\n\nAbon Hassan and Nouzhatoul-aouadat led this pleasant life a long\ntime, unattentive to expense, when the caterer, who disbursed all\nthe money for these expenses, brought them in a long bill, in hope\nof having an advance of money. They found it, too late, to be so\nconsiderable a sum, including the wedding clothes and jewels for the\nbride, that all the presents that the caliph and the princess\nZobiede had given them at their marriage were but just enough to pay\nhim. This made them reflect seriously on what was passed, which,\nhowever, was no remedy for the present evil. But they agreed to pay\nthe caterer; and having sent for him, paid him all they owed him,\nwithout considering the difficulty they would be in immediately\nafter.\n\nThe caterer went away very well pleased to receive so large a sum of\nready money, though Abon Hassan and his wife were not so well\nsatisfied with seeing the bottom of their purse, but remained a long\ntime silent, and very much embarrassed to find themselves reduced to\nthat condition the very first year of their marriage. Abon Hassan\nremembered that the caliph, when he took him into the palace,\npromised never to let him want any thing; but when he considered how\nprodigal he had been of his money in so short a time, he was\nunwilling to expose himself to the shame of letting the caliph know\nthe ill use he had made of what he had given him, and that he wanted\nmore. Besides, he had made over his patrimony to his mother, as soon\nas the caliph received him near his person, and was afraid to go to\nher, lest she should find that he had returned to the same\nextravagance he had been guilty of after his father\u2019s death. His\nwife, on the other hand, looked upon Zobeide\u2019s generosity, and the\nliberty she had given her to marry, as more than a sufficient\nrecompense for her service, and thought she had not a right to ask\nmore.\n\nAbon Hassan at last broke silence, and, looking upon his wife, said,\nI see you are in the same embarrassment as myself, and are thinking\nwhat we must do in this unhappy juncture, when our money fails us so\nunexpectedly. I do not know what your sentiments may be, but mine\nare, let what will happen, not to retrench our expenses in the\nleast; and I believe you will come into my opinion. The point is,\nhow to support them without stooping to ask the caliph or Zobeide;\nand I think I have fallen on the means; but we must both assist each\nother.\n\nThis discourse of Abon Hassan very much pleased his wife, and gave\nher some hopes. I was thinking so as well as you, said she, but\ndurst not explain my thoughts, because I did not know how to help\nourselves; and must confess, that what you tell me gives me a great\ndeal of pleasure. But since you say you have found out a way, and my\nassistance is necessary, you need but to tell me, and I will do all\nthat lies in my power.\n\nI was sure, replied Abon Hassan, that you would not fail in this\nbusiness, which concerns us both; and therefore I must tell you,\nthis want of money has made me think of a plan which will supply us\nwith some, at least for a time. It consists in a little trick we\nwill put, I upon the caliph, and you upon Zobeide, and at which, I\nam sure, they will both be diverted, and it will answer very well to\nus. You and I will both die. Not I, indeed, interrupted\nNouzhatoul-aouadat; you may die by yourself, if you will; I am not\nso weary of this life, and, whether you are pleased or not, will not\ndie so soon. If you have nothing else to propose than that, you may\ndo it by yourself; for I assure you I shall not join you.\n\nYou are a woman, I mean of such vivacity and wonderful quickness,\nreplied Abon Hassan, that you scarce give me time to explain my\ndesign. Have but a little patience, and you shall find that you will\nbe ready enough to die such a death as I mean; for surely you could\nnot think I meant a real death? Well, said his wife, if it is but a\nsham death you design, I am at your service, and you may depend on\nmy zeal to second you in this manner of dying; for I must tell you\ntruly, I am very unwilling to die, as I apprehended you at first.\n\nBe but easy a little, said Abon Hassan, and I will tell you what I\npropose. I will feign myself dead, and you shall lay me out in a\nwhite sheet, in the middle of my chamber, with my turban upon my\nface, my feet towards Mecca, and just ready to be carried out to\nburial. When you have done so, you must cry, and shed tears, as is\nusual in such cases, and tear your clothes and hair, or pretend to\ndo it, and go all in tears, with your hair loose about your ears, to\nZobeide. The princess will ask you the cause of your grief; and when\nyou have told her, with words intermixed with sighs, she will pity\nyou, and give you some money to defray the expense of my funeral,\nand a piece of good brocade to cover my body with, that my interment\nmay be the more magnificent, and to make you a habit in the room of\nthat she saw you had torn. As soon as you return with the money and\nthe brocade, I will get up and lay you in my place, and go and act\nthe same part with the caliph as you have done with Zobeide; and I\ndare say the caliph will be as generous to me as Zobeide has been to\nyou.\n\nWhen Abon Hassan had explained his plan, I think, replied\nNouzhatoul-aouadat, it will be a pleasant trick, and I am much\nmistaken if the caliph and Zobeide will not like us for it. Let us\nput it in execution. Leave me to myself; I will play my part at\nleast as well as I expect you will yours, and with as much zeal and\nattention, as the benefit we expect from it is great.\n\nNouzhatoul-aouadat liked this project very well, and said to Abon\nHassan, Come, lose no time; strip to your shirt and breeches, while\nI prepare a sheet. I know how to bury as well as any body; for while\nI was in Zobeide\u2019s service, and any of my fellow slaves died, I\nhad the conducting of the funeral. Abon Hassan did as his wife bid\nhim, and laid himself flat on his back on the sheet which his wife\nhad spread on the carpet in the middle of the room. As soon as he\nhad crossed his arms, his wife wrapped him up, turned his feet\ntowards Mecca, and put a piece of fine muslin and his turban upon\nhis face, so as to leave his breath free, so that nothing seemed\nwanting but to put him in a coffin, and carry him out to be buried.\nAfter this she pulled off her head-dress, and, with tears in her\neyes, and her hair dishevelled, and seeming to tear it off, with a\ndismal cry and lamentation, beating her face and breast with all the\nmarks of the most lively grief, ran across the court to Zobeide\u2019s\napartments; who, hearing the voice of a person crying very loud,\ncommanded some of her women to see who it was; who returned and told\nher that it was Nouzhatoul-aouadat, who was coming in a deplorable\ncondition.\n\nThe princess, impatient to know what had happened to her, rose up\nimmediately, and went to meet her at the door of her ante-chamber.\nNouzhatoul-aouadat played her part to perfection. As soon as she saw\nZobeide, who held the door open, she redoubled her cries, tore her\nhair off by handfuls, beat her face and breast, and threw herself at\nher feet, bathing them with her tears.\n\nZobeide, amazed to see her slave in such extraordinary affliction,\nasked what had happened to her; but instead of answering, she\ncontinued her sighs and sobs, and, at last, feigning to strive to\ncheck them, said, with words interrupted with sighs, Alas! my most\nhonoured lady and mistress, what greater misfortune could have\nbefell me than this, which obliges me to throw myself at your\nhighness\u2019s feet? God prolong your days, my most respectable\nprincess, in perfect health, and grant you many happy years! --Abon\nHassan! poor Abon Hassan! whom you honoured with your esteem, and\ngave me for a husband, is no more!\n\nAt these last words, Nouzhatoul-aouadat redoubled her tears and\nsighs, and threw herself again at the princess\u2019s feet. Zobeide was\nextremely surprised at this news. Abon Hassan dead! cried she; that\nhealthy, agreeable, pleasant man! Indeed I did not in the least\nexpect his death so soon; he seemed to promise a long life, and well\ndeserved to enjoy it. Then she also burst into tears, as did all her\nwomen, who had been often witnesses of Abon Hassan\u2019s pleasantries,\nwhen the caliph brought him to see the princess Zobeide; and all\ntogether continued a long time bewailing the loss of him. At length\nthe princess Zobeide broke silence: Wicked woman! cried she,\naddressing herself to the false widow, perhaps you have occasioned\nhis death! Your ill temper has given him so much vexation, that you\nhave at last brought him to his grave. Nouzhatoul-aoudat seemed much\nhurt at the reproaches of Zobeide: Ah, madam, cried she, I do not\nthink I ever gave your majesty, all the time I was your slave, the\nleast reason to entertain so disadvantageous an opinion of my\nconduct to a husband who was so dear to me. I should think myself\nthe most wretched of women if you were persuaded of this. I behaved\nto Abon Hassan as a wife should do to a husband for whom she has a\nsincere affection; and I may say, without vanity, that I had for him\nthe same regard he had for me, which proved he loved me with equal\naffection. I am persuaded he would, were he alive, justify me fully\nto your majesty; but, madam, added she, renewing her tears, his time\nwas come, and that was the only cause of his death.\n\nZobeide had really observed in her slave an uniformly equal temper\nand mildness, great docility and zeal for her service, which showed\nshe was rather actuated by inclination than duty. She hesitated not\nto believe her on her word, and ordered her treasurer to fetch a\nhundred pieces of gold, and a piece of rich brocade.\n\nThe slave soon returned with the purse and piece of brocade, which,\nby Zobeide\u2019s order, she put into Nouzhatoul-aouadat\u2019s hand, who\nthrew herself again at the princess\u2019s feet, and thanked her with\ngreat satisfaction, to think she had succeeded so well. Go, said\nZobeide, make use of that brocade to cover the corpse of your\nhusband, and with that money bury him handsomely, and as he\ndeserves. Moderate the transports of your afflictions; I will take\ncare of you.\n\nAs soon as Nouzhatoul-aouadat got out of the princess\u2019s presence,\nshe dried up her tears, and returned with joy to Abon Hassan, to\ngive him an account of her good success. When she came home, she\nburst out a laughing to see her husband still stretched out in the\nmiddle of the floor; she ran to him, and bid him rise and see the\nfruits of his trick. He rose, and rejoiced with his wife at the\nsight of the purse and brocade. Unable to contain herself at the\nsuccess of her artifice, Come, husband, said she, laughing, let me\nact the dead part, and see if you can manage the caliph as well as I\nhave done Zobeide.\n\nThat is the temper of all women, replied Abon Hassan, who, we may\nwell say, have always the vanity to believe they can do things\nbetter than men, though, at the same time, what good they do is by\ntheir advice. It would be odd indeed if I, who laid this plot\nmyself, could not carry it on as well as you. But let us lose no\ntime in idle discourse; lie down in my place, and see if I do not\ncome off with as much applause.\n\nAbon Hassan wrapped up his wife as she had done him, and with his\nturban unrolled, like a man in the greatest affliction, ran to the\ncaliph, who was holding a private council with the grand vizier\nGiafar, and other confidential viziers. He presented himself at the\ndoor, and the officer knowing he had free access, opened it. He\nentered holding with one hand his handkerchief before his eyes, to\nhide the feigned tears, which trickled down his cheeks, and striking\nhis breast with the other, with exclamations expressing\nextraordinary grief.\n\nThe caliph, who was used to see Abon Hassan with a merry\ncountenance, was very much surprised to see him in that sorrowful\nstate. He interrupted the business of the council to ask him the\ncause of his grief. Commander of the faithful, answered Abon Hassan,\nwith repeated sighs and sobs, God preserve your majesty on the\nthrone, which you fill so gloriously! a greater calamity could not\nhave befallen me than what I now lament. Alas! Nouzhatoul-aouadat,\nwhom you in your bounty gave me for a wife, to pass the rest of my\ndays with, alas! --at this exclamation Abon Hassan pretended to have\nhis heart so full, that he could not utter one syllable more, but\npoured forth a flood of tears.\n\nThe caliph, who presently understood that Abon Hassan came to tell\nhim of the death of his wife, seemed very much concerned, and said\nto him with an air which showed how much he regretted her loss, God\nbe merciful to her: she was a good slave, and we gave her to you\nwith an intention to make you happy: she deserved a longer life.\nThen the tears ran down his face, so that he was obliged to pull out\nhis handkerchief to wipe them off. The grief of Abon Hassan, and the\ntears of the caliph, excited those of Giafar and the other viziers.\nThey bewailed the death of Nouzhatoul-aouadat, who, on her part, was\nimpatient to hear how Abon Hassan succeeded.\n\nThe caliph had the same thought of the husband that Zobeide had of\nthe wife, and imagined that he had occasioned her death. Wretch!\nsaid he, in a tone of indignation, have you not been the cause of\nyour wife\u2019s death by your ill-treatment of her? Can I doubt it?\nYou ought at least to have had some regard for the princess my\nconsort, who loved her more than the rest of her slaves, and\nconsented to give her to you. What a return for her kindness!\n\nCommander of the faithful, replied Abon Hassan, affecting to weep\nmore bitterly than before, can your majesty for a moment suppose\nthat Abon Hassan, whom you have loaded with your favours and\nkindness, and on whom you have conferred honours he could never have\naspired to, can have been capable of such ingratitude? I loved\nNouzhatoul-aouadat my wife as much on these accounts, as for the\nmany good qualities she possessed, and which drew from me all the\nattachment, tenderness, and love she deserved. But, my lord, added\nhe, she was to die, and God would no longer suffer me to enjoy a\nhappiness for which I was indebted to your majesty and your beloved\nconsort.\n\nIn short, Abon Hassan dissembled so well, that the caliph, who had\nnever heard how extravagantly he and his wife had lived, not in the\nleast doubting his sincerity, ordered his treasurer, who was\npresent, to give Abon Hassan a purse of a hundred pieces of gold,\nand a piece of brocade. Abon Hassan immediately cast himself at the\ncaliph\u2019s feet, and thanked him for his present. Follow the\ntreasurer, said that monarch; throw the brocade over the corpse, and\nwith the money show the last testimony of thy love for thy wife.\n\nAbon Hassan made no reply to these obliging words of the caliph, but\nretired with a low bow, and followed the treasurer; and as soon as\nhe had got the purse, and piece of brocade, went home very well\npleased with having found out so quick and easy a way of supplying\nhis necessity, which had given him so much uneasiness.\n\nNouzhatoul-aouadat, weary with lying so long in the posture, never\nwaited till Abon Hassan bid her rise; but as soon as she heard the\ndoor open, got up and ran to her husband, and asked him if he had\nimposed on the caliph as well as she did on Zobeide? You see, said\nhe, showing her the stuff, and shaking the purse, that I can act a\nsorrowful husband for a living wife, as well as you can a weeping\nwidow for a husband not dead. Abon Hassan, however, was not without\nhis fears, that this double trick of theirs might be attended with\nsome ill consequences. He thought it would not be amiss to put his\nwife on her guard as to what might happen, that they might act in\nconcert. For, added he, the better we succeed in embarrassing the\ncaliph and Zobeide, the more they will be pleased at last, and\nperhaps may show their satisfaction by a greater liberality. And\nthis last consideration induced them to carry on this feint farther.\n\nThe caliph, though he had a great deal of business to transact in\ncouncil, was nevertheless so impatient to go and condole with the\nprincess upon the death of her slave, that he rose up as soon as\nAbon Hassan was gone, and put off the council to another day. Follow\nme, said he to Mesrour, who always attended him wherever he went and\nwas in all his councils; let us go and share with the princess the\ngrief which the death of her slave, Nouzhatoul-aouadat, causes her.\n\nAccordingly they went to Zobeide\u2019s apartment, whom the caliph\nfound sitting on a sofa, very much afflicted, and still in tears.\nMadam, said the caliph, going up to her, it is unnecessary to tell\nyou how much I partake with you in your affliction; since you are\nnot insensible that what gives you pleasure or trouble has the same\neffect on me. But we are all mortal, and must surrender up to God\nthat life which he has given us, when he requires it.\nNouzhatoul-aouadat, your faithful slave, was endued with\nqualifications that deserved your esteem, and I cannot but approve\nyour expressing it after her death; but consider, all your grief\nwill not bring her to life again. Therefore, madam, if you love me,\nand will take my advice, be comforted for this loss, and take more\ncare of a life which you know is precious to me, and constitutes all\nthe happiness of mine.\n\nIf the princess was charmed with these tender sentiments which the\ncaliph expressed in his compliments, she was amazed to hear of\nNouzhatoul-aouadat\u2019s death. This news threw her into so great\nsurprise, that she was not able to return an answer for some time.\nAt last recovering, she replied, with an air expressive of surprise,\nCommander of the faithful, I am very sensible of all your tender\nsentiments; but give me leave to say, I cannot comprehend the news\nyou tell me of the death of my slave, who is in perfect health. My\naffliction is for the death of Abon Hassan, her husband, your\nfavourite, whom I esteem, as much for the regard you have for him,\nas because you were so kind to bring me acquainted with him, who has\nso often diverted me very agreeably, and for whom I have as great a\nvalue as yourself. But, sir, the little concern you show for his\ndeath, and your so soon forgetting a man in whose company you have\nso often told me you took so much pleasure, amazes and surprises me:\nand this insensibility seems the greater, by the deception you put\nupon me in changing his death for that of my slave.\n\nThe caliph, who thought that he was perfectly well informed of the\ndeath of the slave, and had just reason to believe so, because he\nhad both seen and heard Abon Hassan, fell a laughing, and shrugging\nup his shoulders, to hear Zobeide talk after this manner. Mesrour,\nsaid he, turning himself about to that eunuch, what do you think of\nthe princess\u2019s discourse? Do not women sometimes lose their\nsenses? For, in short, you have heard and seen all as well as\nmyself. Then turning about to Zobeide, Madam, said he, shed no more\ntears for Abon Hassan, for I can assure you he is well: but rather\nbewail the death of your dear slave. It is not many moments since\nher husband came all in tears, and the most inexpressible\naffliction, to tell me the death of his wife. I gave him a purse of\na hundred pieces of gold, and a piece of brocade, to comfort him,\nand bury her with; and Mesrour here, who was by, can tell you the\nsame.\n\nThe princess took this discourse of the caliph\u2019s to be all a jest,\nand thought he had a mind to impose upon her. Commander of the\nfaithful, replied she, though you are used to banter, I must tell\nyou, this is not a proper time for it. What I tell you is very\nserious; I do not talk of my slave\u2019s death, but of Abon Hassan,\nher husband, whose fate I bewail, and so ought you too. I, madam,\nsaid the caliph, putting on a grave countenance, I tell you, without\nraillery, that you are deceived: Nouzhatoul-aouadat is dead, and\nAbon Hassan is alive and in perfect health.\n\nZobeide was very much piqued at this dry answer of the caliph.\nCommander of the faithful, replied she smartly, God preserve you\nfrom continuing longer in this mistake: surely you would make me\nthink your mind is not as usual. Give me leave to repeat to you once\nmore, that it is Abon Hassan who is dead, and that my slave\nNouzhatoul-aouadat, his widow, is living. It is not an hour ago\nsince she went from hence. She came here in so disconsolate a state,\nthat the sight of her was enough to have drawn tears from my eyes,\nif she had not told me her affliction, accompanied with innumerable\nsighs. All my women, who wept with me, can bear me witness, and tell\nyou also that I made her a present of a hundred pieces of gold, and\na piece of brocade; and the grief which you found me in was upon the\ndeath of her husband; and just that instant that you came in, I was\ngoing to send you a compliment of condolence.\n\nAt these words of Zobeide, the caliph cried out in a fit of\nlaughter, This, madam, is a strange piece of obstinacy; but,\ncontinued he seriously, you may depend upon Nouzhatoul-aouadat\u2019s\nbeing dead. I tell you, no, sir, replied Zobeide instantly; it is\nAbon Hassan that is dead, and you shall never make me believe\notherwise.\n\nUpon this, the caliph\u2019s anger rose in his countenance. He sat\nhimself upon the sofa, at some distance from the princess, and\nspeaking to Mesrour, said, Go immediately, and see which it is, and\nbring me word; for though I am certain that it is\nNouzhatoul-aouadat, I would rather take this way than be any longer\nobstinately positive about a matter which I am perfectly satisfied\nof. No sooner had the caliph commanded than Mesrour was gone. You\nwill see, continued he, addressing himself to Zobeide, in a moment,\nwhich of us is right. For my part, replied Zobeide, I know very well\nthat I am in the right, and you will find it to be Abon Hassan. And\nfor myself, replied the caliph, I am so sure that it is\nNouzhatoul-aouadat, that I will lay you what wager you will, that\nAbon Hassan is well.\n\nDo not think to come off so, said Zobeide; I accept your wager, and\nI am so well persuaded of his death, that I would willingly lay the\ndearest thing in the world against what you will, though it were of\nless value. You know what I have at my disposal, and what I value\nmost; propose the bet, and I will stand to it.\n\nSince it is come to that, said the caliph, I will lay my garden of\npleasures against your palace of paintings, though the one is worth\nmuch more than the other. Is the question at present, replied\nZobeide, if your garden is more valuable than my palace? That is not\nthe point. You have made choice of what you thought fit belonging to\nme as an equivalent against what you lay; I accept the wager, and\nwill not go back; I take God to witness. The caliph took the same\noath, and both waited till Mesrour returned.\n\nWhile the caliph and Zobeide were disputing so earnestly, and with\nso much warmth, Abon Hassan, who foresaw their difference, was very\nattentive to whatever might happen. As soon as he perceived Mesrour\nthrough a window, against which he sat talking with his wife, and\nobserved that he was coming directly to their apartment, he\npresently guessed what he was coming about, and bid his wife make\nhaste to act the dead part once more, as they had agreed on, without\nloss of time; in short, they were so pressed, that Abon Hassan had\nmuch ado to wrap up the wife and lay the piece of brocade which the\ncaliph had given him upon her, before Mesrour came. As soon as he\nhad done that, he opened the door of his apartment, and with a\nmelancholy, dejected countenance, and his handkerchief before his\neyes, went and sat down at the head of the pretended deceased.\n\nBy that time he was seated, Mesrour came into the room. The dismal\nsight which met his eyes gave him a secret joy, on account of the\nerrand the caliph sent him on. As soon as Abon Hassan perceived him,\nhe rose up to meet him, and kissing his hand out of respect, said,\nsighing and groaning, You see me, sir, in the greatest affliction\nthat ever could befall me; the death of my dear wife,\nNouzhatoul-aouadat, whom you honoured with your favours.\n\nMesrour, affected by this discourse, could not refuse some tears to\nthe memory of the deceased. He lifted up the cloth a little at the\nhead, which was uncovered, and peeping under it, let it down again,\nand said, with a deep sigh, There is no other God but God; we must\nall submit to his will, and every creature must return to him.\n--Nouzhatoul-aouadat, my good sister, added he, sighing, thy days\nhave been very few: God have mercy on thee. Then turning to Abon\nHassan, who was all the time in tears, We may well say, said he,\nthat women sometimes have whims, and lose their senses in a most\nunpardonable manner; for Zobeide, good mistress as she is, is in\nthat situation at present: she will maintain to the caliph that you\nare dead, and not your wife; and whatever the caliph can say to the\ncontrary, he cannot persuade her otherwise. He called me to witness\nand confirm this truth; for you know I was by when you came and told\nhim the sorrowful news: but all signifies nothing. They are both\npositive; and the caliph, to convince Zobeide, has sent me to know\nthe truth, but I fear I shall not be believed; for when women once\ntake up a thing, they are not to be beat out of it.\n\nGod keep the commander of the faithful in the possession and right\nuse of his senses, replied Abon Hassan, still sighing and crying:\nyou see how it is, and that I have not imposed upon his majesty. And\nI wish to heaven, continued he, to dissemble the better, that I had\nno occasion to tell him the melancholy and affecting news. Alas! I\ncannot enough express my irreparable loss! That is true, replied\nMesrour, and I can assure you I take a great share in your\naffliction; but you must be comforted, and not abandon yourself to\nyour grief. --I leave you with reluctance, to return to the caliph;\nbut I beg the favour of you not to bury the corpse till I come\nagain; for I will assist at the interment, and accompany it with my\nprayers. Mesrour went to give an account of his message. Abon Hassan\nwaited on him to the door, and told him that he did not deserve the\nhonour that he intended him: and for fear Mesrour should return to\nsay something else to him, he followed him with his eyes for\nsometime, and when he saw him at a distance, returned to his wife,\nand released her. This is already, said he, a new scene of mirth,\nbut I fancy it will not be the last; for certainly the princess\nZobeide will not believe Mesrour, but will laugh at him, since she\nhas too substantial a reason to the contrary; therefore we must\nexpect some new event. While Abon Hassan was talking thus,\nNouzhatoul-aouadat had time to put on her clothes again, and both\nwent and sat down on a sofa opposite to the window, where they could\nsee all that passed.\n\nIn the mean time, Mesrour reached Zobeide\u2019s apartment, and going\ninto her closet laughing, clapped his hands like one who had\nsomething very agreeable to tell.\n\nThe caliph, who was naturally impatient, would presently be informed\nof the truth of the matter, for he was piqued a little at the\nprincess\u2019s diffidence; therefore as soon as he met Mesrour, Vile\nslave, said he, is this a time to laugh? Why do not you tell me\nwhich is dead, the husband or the wife?\n\nCommander of the faithful, answered Mesrour, putting on a serious\ncountenance, it is Nouzhatoul-aouadat who is dead, for the loss of\nwhom Abon Hassan is as much afflicted as when he appeared before\nyour majesty. The caliph not giving him time to pursue his story,\ninterrupted him, and cried out, laughing heartily, Good news!\nZobeide, your mistress, was a moment ago possessed of the palace of\npaintings, and now it is mine. She staked it against my garden of\npleasures, since you went; therefore you could not have done me a\ngreater pleasure. I will take care to reward you: but give me a true\naccount of what you saw.\n\nCommander of the faithful, said Mesrour, when I came to Abon\nHassan\u2019s apartment, I found the door open, and he was bewailing\nthe death of his wife Nouzhatoul-aouadat. He sat at the head of the\ndeceased, who was laid out in the middle of the room, with her feet\ntowards Mecca, and was covered with that piece of brocade which your\nmajesty made a present of to Abon Hassan. After I had expressed the\nshare I took in this grief, I went and lifted up the pall at the\nhead, and knew Nouzhatoul-aouadat, though her face was very much\nswelled and changed. I exhorted Abon Hassan in the best manner I\ncould to be comforted; and when I came away, I told him I would\nattend at his wife\u2019s funeral, and desired him not to remove the\ncorpse till I came. This is all I can tell your majesty. I ask no\nmore, said the caliph, laughing heartily, and I am very well\nsatisfied with your exactness. Then addressing himself to Zobeide,\nWell, madam, said he, have you yet any thing to say against so\ncertain a truth? Will you always believe that Nouzhatoul-aouadat is\nalive, and that Abon Hassan is dead? And will you not own that you\nhave lost your wager?\n\nHow, sir replied Zobeide, who would not believe one word that\nMesrour said, do you think that I regard that impertinent follow of\na slave, who knows not what he says? I am not blind or mad. With\nthese eyes I saw Nouzhatoul-aouadat in the greatest affliction; I\nspoke to her myself, and she told me that her husband was dead.\nMadam, replied Mesrour, I swear to you by your own life, and that of\nthe commander of the faithful, which are both dear to me, that\nNouzhatoul-aouadat is dead, and Abon Hassan is living.\n\nThou liest, base despicable slave! said Zobeide in a rage, and I\nwill confound thee immediately; and thereupon, clapping her hands\ntogether, she called her women, who all came in. Come hither, said\nthe princess to them, and speak the truth. Who was that who came and\nspoke with me a little before the caliph came here? The women all\nanswered that it was poor afflicted Nouzhatoul-aouadat. And what,\nadded she, addressing herself to her that was treasurer, did I order\nyou to give her? Madam, answered the treasurer, I gave\nNouzhatoul-aouadat, by your orders, a purse of a hundred pieces of\ngold, and a piece of brocade, which she carried away with her. Well,\nthen, sorry slave, said Zobeide to Mesrour, in a great passion, what\nhave you to say to all this? Whom do you think now I ought to\nbelieve, you or my treasurer, my other women or myself.\n\nMesrour did not want for arguments to contradict the princess; but\nas he was afraid of provoking her too much, he chose rather to be\nsilent, though he was satisfied within himself that the wife was\ndead, and not the husband.\n\nAll the time of this dispute between Zobeide and Mesrour, the\ncaliph, who heard the evidence on both sides, which each party\ninsisted on, and was persuaded of the contrary of what the princess\nsaid, because he had himself seen and spoken to Abon Hassan, and\nbecause of what Mesrour had told him, laughed heartily to see\nZobeide so exasperated against Mesrour. Madam, said he to Zobeide,\nonce more I repeat, that I know not who was the author of that\nsaying, That women sometimes lose their wits, but I am sure you make\nit good. Mesrour came just now from Abon Hassan\u2019s, and tells us\nthat he saw Nouzhatoul-aouadat lying dead in the middle of the room,\nAbon Hassan alive, and sitting by her; and yet you will not believe\nthis evidence, which nobody can reasonably refuse: I cannot\ncomprehend this conduct.\n\nZobeide would not hear what the caliph represented. Pardon me,\ncommander of the faithful, replied she, if I suspect you: I see very\nwell that you have contrived with Mesrour to vex me, and to try my\npatience. And as I perceive that his report was concerted between\nyou, I beg leave to send a person to Abon Hassan\u2019s, to know\nwhether or not I am in the wrong.\n\nThe caliph consented, and the princess charged with this important\ncommission an old nurse, who had lived with her from her infancy,\nand was now present among the rest of her women. Hark ye, nurse,\nsaid she; you see my dispute with the commander of the faithful, and\nme and Mesrour; I need tell you no more. Go to Abon Hassan\u2019s, or\nrather to Nouzhatoul-aouadat\u2019s, for Abon Hassan is dead, and clear\nup this matter for me. If you bring me good news, a handsome present\nis your reward; make haste, and return immediately.\n\nThe nurse set out, to the great joy of the caliph, who was delighted\nto see Zobeide in this embarrassment; but Mesrour, extremely\nmortified to find the princess so angry with him, did all he could\nto appease her, and to make her and the caliph both satisfied with\nhim. He was overjoyed when Zobeide sent the nurse; because he was\npersuaded that the report she would make would agree with his, and\nserve to justify him, and restore him to her favour.\n\nIn the mean time, Abon Hassan, who watched the window, perceived the\nnurse at a distance, and guessing that she was sent by Zobeide,\ncalled his wife, and told her that the princess\u2019s nurse was coming\nto know the truth: therefore, said he, make haste and lay me out.\nAccordingly Nouzhatoul-aouadat did so, and covered him with the\npiece of brocade Zobeide had given her, and put his turban upon his\nface. The nurse, eager to acquit herself of her commission, came at\na good round pace, and entering the room, perceived\nNouzhatoul-aouadat all in tears, her hair dishevelled, and set at\nthe head of her husband, beating her breast, and with all the\nexpressions of violent grief.\n\nThe good old nurse went directly to the false widow. My dear\nNouzhatoul-aouadat, said she with a sorrowful face, I come not to\ninterrupt your grief and tears for a husband whom you loved so\ntenderly. Ah! good mother, replied the counterfeit widow, you see my\nmisfortune, and how unhappy I am by the loss of my beloved Abon\nHassan. Abon Hassan, my dear husband! cried she, what have I done\nthat you should leave me so soon? Have I not always preferred your\nwill to my own? Alas! what will become of poor Nouzhatoul-aouadat?\n\nThe nurse was in great surprise to see every thing quite the reverse\nof what the chief of the eunuchs had told the caliph. This black\nfaced Mesrour, cried she, lifting up her hands, deserves to be\nconfounded for having made so great a difference between my good\nmistress and the commander of the faithful, by the notorious lie he\ntold them. I must tell you, daughter, said she, the wickedness of\nthat villain Mesrour, who has asserted with an inconceivable\nimpudence before our good mistress, that you were dead, and Abon\nHassan was alive!\n\nAlas! my good mother, cried Nouzhatoul-aouadat, I wish to heaven\nthat it was true! I should not be in this sorrowful state, nor\nbewail a husband so dear to me! At these words she burst out into\ntears, and by her redoubled tears and cries, feigned most desperate\nsorrow.\n\nThe nurse was so much moved by her tears, that she sat down by her,\nand cried too. Then gently lifting up the turban and cloth, looked\non the face of the corpse: Ah! poor Abon Hassan, she cried, covering\nhis face again, God have mercy upon thee! Adieu, child, said she to\nNouzhatoul-aouadat; if I could stay longer with you, I would with\nall my heart; but I am obliged to return immediately, to deliver my\nmistress from the uneasiness that black villain has occasioned her,\nby his impudent lie, assuring her with an oath that you was dead.\n\nAs soon as the nurse was gone, and had pulled the door after her,\nand Nouzhatoul-aouadat thought she would not come back again, she\nwiped her eyes, and released Abon Hassan; and then they both went\nand sat down on a sofa against the window, expecting what would be\nthe end of this trick, and to be ready to act according as things\nshould turn out.\n\nThe nurse, in the mean time, made all the haste she could to\nZobeide. The pleasure of carrying the princess good news, and still\nmore the hopes of a good reward, added wings to her feet, and\nrunning into the princess\u2019s closet quite out of breath, she gave\nher a true account of all she had seen. Zobeide hearkened to the old\nwoman\u2019s relation with a most sensible pleasure; and when she had\ndone, she said with a tone which showed she had won her cause,\nRepeat it once more before the caliph, who looks upon us all to be\nfools, and would make us believe we have no sense of religion, nor\nfear of God; and tell your story to that wicked black slave, who had\nthe insolence to assert a falsity, though I knew it to be one.\n\nMesrour, who expected the nurse\u2019s report would prove favourable on\nhis side, was very much mortified to find it so much the contrary.\nHe was also vexed at the anger Zobeide expressed against him, for a\nthing which he thought himself surer of than any body, that he was\nglad of having an opportunity of speaking his mind freely to the\nnurse, which he durst not do to the princess. Old toothless, said he\nto the nurse, you are a liar, and there is no truth in what you say;\nfor I saw with my own eyes Nouzhatoul-aouadat laid out in the middle\nof the room.\n\nYou are a notorious liar yourself, replied the nurse with an\ninsulting air, to dare to maintain so great a falsity before my\nface, who am just come from seeing Abon Hassan dead, and laid out,\nand left his wife alive. I am not an impostor, replied Mesrour, it\nis you who endeavour to lead us all into error.\n\nWhat impudence, said the nurse, to dare to tell me I lie in the\npresence of their majesties, when I saw just now with my own eyes\nthe fact I have had the honour to tell them. Indeed, nurse, answered\nMesrour again, you had better hold your tongue, for you certainly\ndoat.\n\nZobeide, who could not support this want of respect in Mesrour, who,\nwithout any regard to her, treated her nurse so injuriously in her\npresence, without giving the nurse time to reply to so gross an\naffront, said to the caliph, Commander of the faithful, I demand\njustice for this insolence to us both. She was so enraged she could\nsay no more, but burst into tears.\n\nThe caliph, who had heard all this dispute, thought it very\nintricate. He mused some time, and could not tell what to think of\nso many contradictions. The princess, for her part, as well as\nMesrour, the nurse, and all the women slaves, who were present, were\nas much puzzled, and remained silent. At last the caliph resumed the\nbusiness, and addressing himself to Zobeide, said, I see very well\nwe are all liars, myself first, and then you, Mesrour, and you,\nnurse; or at least it seems not one can be believed more than the\nother; therefore, let us go ourselves to know the truth, for I can\nsee no other way to clear up these doubts.\n\nSo saying, the caliph rose up, the princess followed him, and\nMesrour went before to open the doors: Commander of the faithful,\nsaid he, I am overjoyed that your majesty has taken this course; and\nshall be much more, when I shall make it plainly appear to the\nnurse, not that she doats, since the expression is unfortunately\ndispleasing to my good mistress, but that her report is not true.\n\nThe nurse wanted not a reply: Hold your tongue, black face, said\nshe; you doat yourself.\n\nZobeide, who was very much provoked at Mesrour, could not bear to\nhear him attack her nurse again, without taking her part: Vile\nslave, said she, say what you will, I maintain my nurse says the\ntruth, and look upon you as a mere liar. Madam, replied Mesrour, if\nnurse is so very certain that Nouzhatoul-aouadat is alive, and Abon\nHassan is dead, I will lay her what she dares of it. The nurse was\nas ready as he; I dare, said she, take you at your word; let us see\nif you dare unsay it. Mesrour stood to his word; and they laid a\npiece of gold brocade with silver flowers before the caliph and the\nprincess.\n\nThe apartment the caliph and Zobeide came out of, though distant\nfrom Abon Hassan\u2019s, was nevertheless just over against it, and\nAbon Hassan could perceive them coming, and told his wife he was\nvery much mistaken if the caliph and Zobeide, preceded by Mesrour,\nand followed by a great number of women, were not coming to do them\nthe honour of a visit. She looked through a lattice, and saw them.\nThough her husband told her beforehand, she seemed frightened, and\ncried out, What shall we do? We are ruined. Fear nothing, replied\nAbon Hassan; have you forgot already what we agreed on? We will both\nfeign ourselves dead, and you shall see all will go well. At the\nslow rate they come, we shall be ready before they get to the door.\nAccordingly, Abon Hassan and his wife wrapped up and covered\nthemselves with the pieces of brocade, and waited patiently for\ntheir visitors.\n\nMesrour, who came first, opened the door, and the caliph and\nZobeide, followed by their attendants, entered the room; but were\nextremely surprised, and stood motionless, at the dismal sight which\npresented itself to their view, not knowing what to make of it. At\nlast, Zobeide breaking silence, said to the caliph, Alas! they are\nboth dead! You have done so much, continued she, looking at the\ncaliph and Mesrour, to endeavour to make me believe that my dear\nslave was dead, that I find it is true at last: grief for losing her\nhusband has certainly killed her. Say rather, madam, answered the\ncaliph, prepossessed to the contrary, that Nouzhatoul-aouadat died\nfirst, and the afflicted Abon Hassan sunk under his grief, and could\nnot survive his dear wife; you ought, therefore, to agree that you\nhave lost your wager, and your palace of paintings is mine.\n\nHold there, answered Zobeide, warmed at being contradicted by the\ncaliph; I will maintain it, you have lost your garden of pleasures\nto me. Abon Hassan died first; since my nurse told you as well as\nme, that she saw her alive, and crying for the death of her husband.\n\nThe dispute of the caliph and Zobeide brought on another between\nMesrour and the nurse, who had wagered as well as they, and each\npretended to win, and came at last to abuse each other very grossly.\n\nAt last the caliph, reflecting on what had passed, began to think\nthat Zobeide had as much reason as himself to maintain that she had\nwon. In this embarrassment of not being able to find out the truth,\nhe advanced towards the two corpses, and sat down at the head,\nsearching after some expedient that might gain him the victory over\nZobeide. I swear, cried he, presently after, by the holy name of\nGod, that I will give a thousand pieces of gold to him that can tell\nme which of these two died first.\n\nNo sooner were these words out of the caliph\u2019s mouth, but he heard\na voice under Abon Hassan\u2019s piece of brocade, say, Commander of\nthe faithful, I died first; give me the thousand pieces of gold. At\nthe same time he saw Abon Hassan throw off the piece of brocade, and\ncome and prostrate himself at his feet, while his wife did the same\nto Zobeide, keeping on her piece of brocade out of decency. The\nprincess at first shrieked out, so that she frightened all about\nher; but recovering herself at last, expressed great joy to see her\ndear slave rise again, just when she was almost inconsolable at\nhaving seen her dead. Ah! wicked Nouzhatoul-aouadat, cried she, what\nhave I suffered for your sake? However, I forgive you from my heart,\nsince you are not dead.\n\nThe caliph for his part was not so much surprised when he heard Abon\nHassan\u2019s voice; but thought he should have died with laughing at\nthis unravelling of the mystery, and to hear Abon Hassan ask so\nseriously for the thousand pieces of gold. What, Abon Hassan, said\nhe, continuing to laugh aloud, hast thou conspired against my life,\nto kill me a second time with laughing? How came this thought into\nyour head, to surprise Zobeide and me thus, when we least thought of\nsuch a trick?\n\nCommander of the faithful, replied Abon Hassan, I will declare to\nyour majesty the whole truth without the least reserve. Your majesty\nknows very well that I always loved to eat and drink well, and the\nwife you gave me rather increased than restrained that inclination.\nWith these dispositions your majesty may easily suppose we might\nspend a good estate; and to make short of my story, we were not in\nthe least sparing of what your majesty so generously gave us. This\nmorning, accounting with our caterer, who took care to provide every\nthing for us, and paying what we owed him, we found we had nothing\nleft. Then reflections on what was past, and resolutions to manage\nbetter for the future, crowded into our thoughts; we formed a\nthousand projects, all which we rejected. At last, the shame of\nseeing ourselves reduced to so low a condition, and not daring to\ntell your majesty, made us contrive this trick to relieve our\nnecessities, and to divert you with it, which we hope your majesty\nwill be pleased to pardon us.\n\nThe caliph and Zobeide were very well satisfied with Abon Hassan\u2019s\nsincerity, and not sorry for what was done; and then Zobeide, who\nhad all along been very serious, began to laugh at the thoughts of\nAbon Hassan\u2019s scheme. The caliph, who had not ceased laughing at\nthe singularity of thus adventure, rising up, said to Abon Hassan\nand his wife, Follow me; I will give you the thousand pieces of gold\nI promised you, for joy to find you are not dead. Zobeide desired\nhim to let her make her slave a present of the same sum, for the\nsame reason. By this means Abon Hassan and his dear wife\nNouzhatoul-aouadat long preserved the favour of the caliph Haroun\nAlraschid and the princess Zobeide, and by their liberality were\nmade capable of pursuing their pleasures.\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of Aladdin; or, the Wonderful Lamp.\n\n\nIn the capital of one of the large and rich provinces of the kingdom\nof China, the name of which I do not recollect, there lived a\ntailor, whose name was Mustapha, without any other distinction but\nthat which his profession afforded him, and so poor, that he could\nhardly, by his daily labour, maintain himself and family, which\nconsisted of a wife and son.\n\nHis son, who was called Aladdin, had been brought up after a very\ncareless and idle manner, and by that means had contracted many\nvicious habits. He was wicked, obstinate, and disobedient to his\nfather and mother, who, when he grew up, could not keep him within\ndoors; but he would go out early in the morning, and stay out all\nday, playing in the streets and public places with little vagabonds\nof his own age.\n\nWhen he was old enough to learn a trade, his father not being able\nto put him out to any other, took him into his own shop, and showed\nhim how to use his needle: but neither good words nor the fear of\nchastisement were capable of fixing his lively genius. All that his\nfather could do to keep him at home to mind his work was in vain;\nfor no sooner was his back turned, but Aladdin was gone for that\nday. Mustapha chastised him, but Aladdin was incorrigible; and his\nfather, to his great grief, was forced to abandon him to his\nlibertinism; and was so much troubled at not being able to reclaim\nhim, that it threw him into a fit of sickness, of which he died in a\nfew months.\n\nThe mother of Aladdin, finding that her son would not follow his\nfather\u2019s business, shut up the shop, sold off the implements of\nthat trade, and with the money she got for them, and what she could\nget by spinning cotton, thought to maintain herself and her son.\n\nAladdin, who was now no longer restrained by the fear of a father,\nand who cared so little for his mother, that whenever she chid him\nhe would fly in her face, gave himself entirely over to dissipation,\nand was never out of the streets from his companions. This course he\nfollowed till he was fifteen years old, without giving his mind to\nany thing whatever, or the least reflection on what would become of\nhim. In this situation, as he was one day playing according to\ncustom, in the street, with his vagabond troop, a stranger passing\nby stood still to observe him.\n\nThis stranger was a famous magician, called by the writer of this\nstory the African Magician; and by that name I shall call him with\nthe more propriety, as he was a native of Africa, and had been but\ntwo days come from thence.\n\nWhether the African magician, who was a good physiognomist, had\nobserved in Aladdin\u2019s countenance something which was absolutely\nnecessary for the execution of the design he came about, he inquired\nartfully about his family, who he was, and what were his\ninclinations; and when he had learned all he desired to know, he\nwent up to him, and taking him aside from his comrades, said to him,\nChild, was not your father called Mustapha the tailor? --Yes, sir,\nanswered Aladdin, but he has been dead a long time.\n\nAt these words, the African magician threw his arms about\nAladdin\u2019s neck, and kissed him several times with tears in his\neyes. Aladdin, who observed his tears, asked him, What made him\nweep? Alas! my son, cried the African magician with a sigh, how can\nI forbear? I am your uncle; your good father was my own brother. I\nhave been a great many years abroad travelling, and now I am come\nhome with the hopes of seeing him, you tell me he is dead. I assure\nyou it is a sensible grief to me to be deprived of the comfort I\nexpected. But it is some relief to my affliction, that as far as I\ncan remember him, I knew you at first sight, you are so like him;\nand I see I am not deceived. Then he asked Aladdin, putting his hand\ninto his purse, where his mother lived; and as soon as Aladdin had\ninformed him, he gave him a handful of small money, saying to him,\nGo, my son, to your mother, give my love to her, and tell her that I\nwill come and see her to-morrow, if I have time, that I may have the\nsatisfaction of seeing where my good brother lived so long, and\nended his days.\n\nAs soon as the African magician left his new-adopted nephew, Aladdin\nran to his mother, overjoyed at the money his uncle had given him.\nMother, said he, have I an uncle? No, child, replied his mother, you\nhave no uncle by your father\u2019s side or mine. I am just now come,\nanswered Aladdin, from a man who says he is my uncle by my\nfather\u2019s side, assuring me that he is his brother. He cried and\nkissed me when I told him my father was dead; and to show you that\nwhat I tell you is truth, added he, pulling out the money, see what\nhe has given me; he charged me to give his love to you, and to tell\nyou, if he has any time to-morrow, he will come and pay you a visit,\nthat he may see at the same time the house my father lived and died\nin. Indeed, child, replied the mother, your father had a brother,\nbut he has been dead a long time, and I never heard of another.\n\nThe mother and son talked no more then of the African magician; but\nthe next day Aladdin\u2019s uncle found him playing in another part of\nthe town with other children, and embracing him as before, put two\npieces of gold into his hand, and said to him, Carry this, child, to\nyour mother, and tell her that I will come and see her to-night, and\nbid her get us something for supper; but first show me the house\nwhere you live.\n\nAfter Aladdin had showed the African magician the house, he carried\nthe two pieces of gold to his mother, and when he had told her of\nhis uncle\u2019s intention, she went out and bought provisions; and\nconsidering she wanted various vessels, she went and borrowed them\nof her neighbours. She spent the whole day in preparing the supper;\nand at night, when it was ready, she said to Aladdin, Perhaps your\nuncle knows not how to find our house, go and see for him, and bring\nhim if you meet with him.\n\nThough Aladdin had showed the magician the house, he was very ready\nto go, when somebody knocked at the door, which Aladdin immediately\nopened; and the magician came in, loaded with wine and all sorts of\nfruits, which he brought for a dessert.\n\nAfter the African magician had given what he brought into\nAladdin\u2019s hands, he saluted his mother, and desired her to show\nhim the place where his brother Mustapha used to sit on the sofa;\nand when she had so done, he presently fell down and kissed it\nseveral times, crying out with tears in his eyes, My poor brother!\nhow unhappy am I, not to have come soon enough to give you one last\nembrace! Aladdin\u2019s mother desired him to sit down in the same\nplace, but he would not. No, said he, I shall take care how I do\nthat; but give me leave to sit here over against it, that if I am\ndeprived of the satisfaction of seeing the master of a family so\ndear to me, I may at least have the pleasure of seeing the place\nwhere he used to sit. Aladdin\u2019s mother pressed him no farther, but\nleft him at his liberty to sit where he pleased.\n\nWhen the magician had made choice of a place, and sat down, he began\nto enter into discourse with Aladdin\u2019s mother: My good sister,\nsaid he, do not be surprised at your never having seen me all the\ntime you have been married to my brother Mustapha, of happy memory.\nI have been forty years absent from this country, which is my native\nplace, as well as my late brother\u2019s; and during that time have\ntravelled into the Indies, Persia, Arabia, Syria, and Egypt, and\nhave resided in the finest towns of those countries; and afterwards\ncrossed over into Africa, where I made a longer stay. At last, as it\nis natural for a man, how distant soever it may be, to remember his\nnative country, relations and acquaintance, I was very desirous to\nsee mine again, and to embrace my dear brother; and finding I had\nstrength and courage enough to undertake so long a journey, I\nimmediately made the necessary preparations for it, and set out. I\nwill not tell you the length of time it took me, all the obstacles I\nmet with, and what fatigues I have endured, to come hither; but\nnothing ever mortified and afflicted me so much as the hearing of my\nbrother\u2019s death, for whom I always had a brotherly love and\nfriendship. I observed his features in the face of my nephew, your\nson, and distinguished him from a number of children with whom he\nwas at play; he can tell you how I received the most melancholy news\nthat ever reached my ears. But God be praised for all things! it is\na comfort to me to find him again in a son, who has his most\nremarkable features.\n\nThe African magician, perceiving that Aladdin\u2019s mother began to\nweep at the remembrance of her husband, changed the discourse, and\nturning towards Aladdin, asked him his name. I am called Aladdin,\nsaid he. Well, Aladdin, replied the magician, what business do you\nfollow? Are you of any trade?\n\nAt this question Aladdin hung down his head, and was not a little\ndashed when his mother made answer, Aladdin is an idle fellow; his\nfather, when alive, strove all he could to teach him his trade, but\ncould not succeed; and since his death, notwithstanding all I can\nsay to him, he does nothing but idle away his time in the streets,\nas you saw him, without considering he is no longer a child; and if\nyou do not make him ashamed of it, and make him leave it off, I\ndespair of his ever coming to any good. He knows that his father\nleft him no fortune, and sees me endeavour to get bread by spinning\ncotton every day; for my part, I am resolved one of these days to\nturn him out of doors, and let him provide for himself.\n\nAfter these words, Aladdin\u2019s mother burst out into tears; and the\nmagician said, This is not well, nephew; you must think of helping\nyourself, and getting your livelihood. There are a great many sorts\nof trades, consider if you have not an inclination to some of them;\nperhaps you did not like your father\u2019s trade, and would prefer\nanother; come, do not disguise your sentiments from me; I will\nendeavour to help you. But finding that Aladdin returned no answer;\nIf you have no mind, continued he, to learn any trade, and prove an\nhonest man, I will take a shop for you, and furnish it with all\nsorts of fine stuffs and linens, and set you to trade with them; and\nwith the money you make with them, lay in fresh goods, and then you\nwill live after an honourable way. Consult your own inclination, and\ntell me freely what you think of it: you shall always find me ready\nto keep my word.\n\nThis proposal greatly flattered Aladdin, who mortally hated work,\nand had sense enough to know that such sort of shops were very much\nesteemed and frequented, and the owners honoured and respected. He\ntold the magician he had a greater inclination to that business than\nto any other, and that he should be very much obliged to him all his\nlife for his kindness. Since this profession is agreeable, to you,\nsaid the African magician, I will carry you along with me to-morrow,\nand clothe you as richly and handsomely as the best merchants in the\ncity, and after that we will think of opening such a shop as I mean.\n\nAladdin\u2019s mother, who never till then could believe that the\nmagician was her husband\u2019s brother, no longer doubted it after his\npromises of kindness to her son. She thanked him for his good\nintentions; and after having exhorted Aladdin to render himself\nworthy of his uncle\u2019s favour by his good behaviour, served up\nsupper, at which they talked of several indifferent matters: and\nthen the magician, who saw that the night was pretty far advanced,\ntook his leave of the mother and son, and retired.\n\nHe came again the next day as he promised, and took Aladdin along\nwith him to a great merchant, who sold all sorts of clothes for\ndifferent ages and ranks ready made, and a variety of fine stuffs.\nHe asked to see some that suited Aladdin in size; and after choosing\na suit which he liked best, and rejecting others which he did not\nthink handsome enough, he bid Aladdin choose those he preferred.\nAladdin, charmed with the liberality of his new uncle, made choice\nof one, and the magician immediately bought it, and all things\nproper to it, and paid for it without haggling.\n\nWhen Aladdin found himself so handsomely equipped from top to toe,\nhe returned his uncle all imaginable thanks; who, on the other hand,\npromised never to forsake him, but always to take him along with\nhim, which he did to the most frequented places in the city, and\nparticularly where the capital merchants kept their shops. When he\nbrought him into the street where they sold the richest stuffs and\nfinest linens, he said to Aladdin, As you are soon to be a merchant\nas well as these, it is proper you should frequent these shops, and\nbe acquainted with them. Then he showed him the largest and finest\nmosques, and carried him to the khans or inns where the merchants\nand travellers lodged, and afterwards to the sultan\u2019s palace,\nwhere he had free access; and at last brought him to his own khan,\nwhere meeting with some merchants he had got acquainted with since\nhis arrival, he gave them a treat, to bring them and his pretended\nnephew acquainted.\n\nThis treat lasted till night, when Aladdin would have taken his\nleave of his uncle to go home, but the magician would not let him go\nby himself, but conducted him safe to his mother, who, as soon as\nshe saw him so finely dressed, was transported with joy, and\nbestowed a thousand blessings upon the magician for being at so\ngreat an expense upon her child. Generous relation, said she, I know\nnot how to thank you for your liberality. I know that my son is not\ndeserving of your favours; and was he ever so grateful, and answered\nyour good intentions, he would be unworthy of them. For my part,\nadded she, I thank you with all my soul, and wish you may live long\nenough to be a witness of my son\u2019s gratitude, which he cannot\nbetter show than by regulating his conduct by your good advice.\n\nAladdin, replied the magician, is a good boy, and minds well enough,\nand I believe we shall do very well; but I am sorry for one thing,\nwhich is, that I cannot perform to-morrow what I promised, because\nit is Friday, and the shops will be shut up, and therefore we cannot\nhire or furnish one, but let it alone till Saturday. But I will call\non him to-morrow, and take him to walk in the gardens, where people\nof the best fashion generally walk. Perhaps he has never seen these\namusements, he has only hitherto been among children; but now he\nmust see men. Then the African magician took his leave of the mother\nand the son, and retired. Aladdin, who was overjoyed to be so well\nclothed, anticipated the pleasure of walking in the gardens which\nlay about the town. He had never been out of the town, nor seen the\nenvirons, which were very beautiful and pleasant.\n\nAladdin rose early the next morning and dressed himself to be ready\nagainst his uncle called on him; and after he had waited some time,\nhe began to be impatient, and stood watching for him at the door;\nbut as soon as he perceived him coming, he told his mother, took his\nleave of her, and ran to meet him.\n\nThe magician caressed Aladdin when he came to him: Come along, my\ndear child, said he, and I will show you fine things. Then he led\nhim out at one of the gates of the city, to some large fine houses,\nor rather palaces, to each of which belonged beautiful gardens, into\nwhich any body might go. At every house he came to, he asked Aladdin\nif he did not think it fine; and Aladdin was ready to answer when\nany one presented itself, crying out, Here is a finer house, uncle,\nthan any we have seen yet. By this artifice, the cunning magician\ngot Aladdin a pretty way in the country; and as he had a mind to\ncarry him farther, to execute his design, he took an opportunity to\nsit down in one of the gardens by a fountain of clear water, which\ndischarged itself by a lion\u2019s mouth of bronze into a great basin,\npretending to be tired, the better to rest Aladdin: Come, nephew,\nsaid he, you must be weary as well as me; let us rest ourselves, and\nwe shall be better able to walk.\n\nAfter they had sat down, the magician pulled from his girdle a\nhandkerchief with cakes and fruit, which he had provided on purpose,\nand laid them on the edge of the basin. He broke a cake in two, gave\none half to Aladdin, and ate the other himself: and in regard to the\nfruit, he left him at liberty to take which sort he liked best.\n--During this short repast, he exhorted his nephew to leave off\nkeeping company with children, and seek that of wise and prudent\nmen, to improve by their conversation; for, said he, you will soon\nbe at man\u2019s estate, and you cannot too early begin to imitate\ntheir conversation. When they had eaten as much as they liked, they\ngot up, and pursued their walk through the gardens, which were\nseparated from one another only by small ditches, which only marked\nout the limits without interrupting the communication; so great was\nthe confidence the inhabitants reposed in each other. By this means,\nthe African magician drew Aladdin insensibly beyond the gardens, and\ncrossed the country till they almost came to the mountains.\n\nAladdin, who had never been so far in his life before, began to find\nhimself much tired with so long a walk, and said to the magician,\nwhere are we going, uncle? we have left the gardens a great way\nbehind us, and I see nothing but mountains; if we go much farther, I\ndo not know whether I shall be able to reach the town again. Never\nfear, nephew, said the false uncle; I will show you another garden,\nwhich surpasses all we have yet seen; it is not far off! it is but a\nlittle step; and when we come there, you will say that you would\nhave been sorry to have been so nigh it, and not seen it. Aladdin\nwas soon persuaded; and the magician, to make the way seem shorter\nand less fatiguing, told him a great many stories.\n\nAt last they came between two mountains of moderate height, and\nequal size, divided by a narrow valley, which was the place where\nthe magician intended to bring Aladdin, to put into execution a\ndesign that had brought him from Africa to China. We will go no\nfarther now, said he to Aladdin; I will show you here some very\nextraordinary things, and what nobody ever saw before; which, when\nyou have seen, you will thank me for: but while I strike fire, do\nyou gather up all the loose sticks you can see, to kindle a fire\nwith.\n\nAladdin found there so many dried sticks, that before the magician\nhad lighted a match, he had gathered up a great heap. The magician\npresently set them on fire, and when they were all in a blaze, the\nmagician threw in some incense he had about him, which raised a\ngreat cloud of smoke, which he dispersed on each side, by\npronouncing several magical words which Aladdin did not understand.\n\nAt the same time the earth trembled a little, and opened just before\nthe magician and Aladdin, and discovered a stone about half a yard\nsquare, laid horizontally, with a brass ring fixed into the middle\nof it, to raise it up. Aladdin was so frightened at what he saw,\nthat he would have run away: but as he was to be serviceable to the\nmagician, he caught hold of him, scolded him, and gave him such a\nbox on the ear, that he knocked him down, and had like to have beat\nhis teeth down his throat. Poor Aladdin got up again trembling, and\nwith tears in his eyes, said to the magician, What have I done,\nuncle, to be treated after this severe manner? I have my reasons for\nit, replied the magician: I am your uncle, and supply the place of\nyour father, and you ought to make no reply. But, child, added he,\nsoftening, do not be afraid of any thing; for I shall not ask any\nthing of you, but that you obey me punctually, if you would reap the\nadvantages which I intended you should. These fair promises calmed\nAladdin\u2019s fears and resentment; and when the magician saw that he\nwas come to himself, he said to him, You see what I have done by\nvirtue of my incense, and the words I pronounced. Know then, that\nunder this stone there is hid a treasure, which is destined to be\nyours, and which will make you richer than the greatest monarch in\nthe world: this is so true, that no other person but yourself is\npermitted to touch this stone, and to pull it up and go in; for I am\nforbid even to touch it, or set foot in this treasure when it is\nopened; so you must without fail punctually execute what I tell you,\nfor it is a matter of great consequence both to you and me.\n\nAladdin, amazed at all he saw and heard the magician say of the\ntreasure, which was to make him happy for ever, forgot what was\npast, and rising up, said to the magician, Well, uncle, what is to\nbe done? command me, I am ready to obey you. I am overjoyed, child,\nsaid the African magician, embracing him, to see you take the\nresolution; come, take hold of the ring, and lift up that stone.\nIndeed, uncle, replied Aladdin, I am not strong enough to lift it;\nyou must help me. You have no occasion for my assistance, answered\nthe magician, if I help you, we shall be able to do nothing; you\nmust lift it up yourself: take hold of the ring, only pronounce the\nnames of your father and grandfather, then lift it up, and you will\nfind it will come easily. Aladdin did as the magician bade him, and\nraised the stone with a great deal of ease, and laid it on one side.\n\nWhen the stone was pulled up there appeared a cavity of about three\nor four feet deep, with a little door, and steps to go down lower.\nObserve, my son, said the African magician, what I am going to say\nto you: go down into that cave, and when you are at the bottom of\nthose steps, you will find a door open, which will lead you into a\nlarge vaulted place, divided into three great halls, in each of\nwhich you will see four large brass vessels placed on each side,\nfull of gold and silver, but take care you do not meddle with them.\nBefore you go into the first hall, be sure to tuck up your gown, and\nwrap it well about you, and then go through the second into the\nthird without stopping. Above all things, have a care that you do\nnot touch the walls, so much as with your clothes; for if you do,\nyou will die instantly. At the end of the third hall, you will find\na door which leads into a garden planted with fine trees loaded with\nfruit; walk directly across the garden by a path which will lead you\nto five steps that will bring you upon a terrace, where you will see\na niche before you, and in that niche a lighted lamp. Take the lamp\ndown, and put it out; when you have thrown away the wick, and poured\nout the liquor, put it in your breast, and bring it to me. Do not be\nafraid that the liquor will spoil your clothes, for it is not oil,\nand the lamp will be dry as soon as it is thrown out. If you have a\nmind to any of the fruit of the garden, you may gather as much as\nyou please.\n\nAfter these words, the magician drew a ring off his finger, and put\nit upon one of Aladdin\u2019s, telling him that it was a preservative\nagainst all evil, while he observed what he had prescribed to him.\nAfter this instruction he said, Go down boldly, child, and we shall\nboth be rich all our lives.\n\nAladdin jumped into the cave, went down the steps, and found the\nthree halls, just as the African magician had described them. He\nwent through them with all the precaution the fear of death could\ninspire, if he failed to observe all that he was told very\ncarefully; crossed the garden without stopping, took down the lamp\nfrom the niche, threw out the wick and the liquor, and, as the\nmagician told him, put it in his bosom. But as he came down from the\nterrace, seeing it was perfectly dry, he stopped in the garden to\nobserve the fruit, which he only had a glimpse of in crossing it.\nAll the trees were loaded with extraordinary fruit, of different\ncolours on each tree: some bore fruit entirely white, and some clear\nand transparent as crystal; some pale red, and others deeper; some\ngreen, blue, and purple, and others yellow; in short, there was\nfruit of all colours. The white were pearls; the clear and\ntransparent, diamonds; the deep red, rubies; the paler, ballas\nrubies; [96] the green, emeralds; the blue, turquoises; the purple,\namethysts; and those that were of yellow cast, sapphires; and so of\nthe rest. All these fruits were so large and beautiful, that nothing\nwas ever seen like them. Aladdin was altogether ignorant of their\nvalue, and would have preferred figs and grapes, or any other\nfruits, before them; and though he took them only for coloured glass\nof little value, yet he was so pleased with the variety of the\ncolours, and the beauty and extraordinary size of the fruit, that he\nhad a mind to gather some of every sort; and accordingly filled his\ntwo pockets, and the two new purses his uncle had bought for him\nwith the clothes which he gave him; and as he could not put them in\nhis pockets, he fastened them to his girdle. Some he wrapped up in\nthe skirts of his gown, which was of silk, large and wrapping, and\ncrammed his breast as full as it could hold.\n\nAladdin, having thus loaded himself with riches he knew not the\nvalue of, returned through the three halls with the same precaution,\nand made all the haste he could, that he might not make his uncle\nwait, and soon arrived at the mouth of the cave, where the African\nmagician expected him with the utmost impatience. As soon as Aladdin\nsaw him, he cried out, Pray, uncle, lend me your hand to help me\nout. Give me the lamp first, replied the magician; it will be\ntroublesome to you. Indeed, uncle, answered Aladdin, I cannot now;\nit is not troublesome to me; but I will as soon as I am up. The\nAfrican magician was so obstinate, that he would have the lamp\nbefore he would help him up; and Aladdin, who had incumbered himself\nso much with his fruit, that he could not well get at it, refused to\ngive him it till he was out of the cave. The African magician,\nprovoked at this obstinate refusal of the lad, flew into a terrible\npassion, and threw a little of his incense into the fire, which he\nhad taken care to keep in, and no sooner pronounced two magical\nwords, but the stone which had closed the mouth of the cave, moved\ninto its place, with the earth over it, in the same manner as it lay\nat the arrival of the magician and Aladdin.\n\nThis action of the African magician\u2019s plainly showed him to be\nneither Aladdin\u2019s uncle, nor Mustapha, the tailor\u2019s brother, but\na true African, a native of that part of the world. For as Africa is\na country whose inhabitants delight most in magic of any other in\nthe whole world, he had applied himself to it from his youth; and\nafter about forty years\u2019 experience in enchantments, works of\ngeomancy, fumigations, and reading of magic books, he had found out\nthat there was in the world a wonderful lamp, the possession of\nwhich would render him more powerful than any monarch in the world,\nif he could obtain it; and by a late operation of geomancy, he found\nout that this lamp lay concealed in a subterraneous place in the\nmidst of China, in the situation, with all the circumstances,\nalready described. Fully persuaded of the truth of this discovery,\nhe set out from the farthest part of Africa, and, after a long and\nfatiguing journey, came to the town nearest to this treasure. But\nthough he had a certain knowledge of the place where the lamp was,\nhe was not permitted to take it himself, nor to enter the\nsubterraneous place where it was, but must receive it from the hands\nof another person. For this reason he addressed himself to Aladdin,\nwhom he looked upon as a young lad of no consequence, and fit to\nserve his purpose; resolving, as soon as he got the lamp into his\nhands, to sacrifice poor Aladdin to his avarice and wickedness, by\nmaking the fumigation mentioned before, and saying those two magical\nwords, the effect of which was to remove the stone into its place\nagain, that he might have no witness of the transaction.\n\nThe blow he gave Aladdin, and the authority he assumed over him, was\nonly to use him to fear him, and to make him obey him the more\nreadily, and give him the lamp as soon as he asked for it. But his\ntoo great precipitation in executing his wicked intention on poor\nAladdin, and his fear lest somebody should come that way during\ntheir dispute, and discover what he wished to keep secret, produced\nan effect quite contrary to what he proposed to himself.\n\nWhen the African magician saw that all his great hopes were\nfrustrated forever, he returned that same day for Africa; but went\nquite round the town, and at some distance from it, for fear lest\nsome persons who had seen him walk out with the boy, seeing him come\nback without him, should entertain any jealousy of him, and stop him.\n\nAccording to all appearances, there was no prospect of Aladdin being\nany more heard of. But the magician, when he contrived his death,\nhad forgotten the ring he put on his finger, which preserved him,\nthough he knew not its virtue; and it is amazing that the loss of\nthat, together with the lamp, did not drive the magician to despair;\nbut magicians are so much used to misfortunes, and events contrary\nto their wishes, that they do not lay them to heart, but still feed\nthemselves all their lives with unsubstantial notions and chimeras.\n\nAs for Aladdin, who never suspected this bad usage from his\npretended uncle, after all his caresses, and what he had done for\nhim, his surprise is more easily to be imagined than expressed by\nwords. When he found himself buried alive, he cried, and called out\nto his uncle to tell him he was ready to give him the lamp; but all\nin vain, since his cries could not be heard by him, and he remained\nin this dark abode. At last, when he had quite tired himself with\ncrying, he went to the bottom of the steps, with a design to get\ninto the garden, where it was light; but the door, which was opened\nbefore by enchantment, was now shut by the same means. Then he\nredoubled his cries and tears, and sat down on the steps, without\nany hopes of ever seeing the light again, and in a melancholy\ncertainty of passing from the present darkness into that of a speedy\ndeath.\n\nAladdin remained in this state two days, without eating or drinking,\nand on the third day looked upon death as inevitable. Clasping his\nhands with an entire resignation to the will of God, he said, There\nis no strength or power but in the great and high God. In this\naction of joining his hands, he rubbed the ring which the magician\nput on his finger, and of which he knew not yet the virtue, and\nimmediately a genie of an enormous size and frightful look rose out\nof the earth, his head reaching the vault, and said to him, What\nwouldst thou have with me? I am ready to obey thee as thy slave, and\nthe slave of all who have the ring on thy finger; I, and the other\nslaves of that ring.\n\nAt another time, Aladdin, who had not been used to such visions,\nwould have been so frightened, that he would not have been able to\nspeak at the sight of so extraordinary a figure; but the danger he\nwas in made him answer without hesitation, Whoever thou art, deliver\nme from this place, if thou art able. He had no sooner made an end\nof these words, but the earth opened, and he found himself on the\nvery spot the magician first brought him to.\n\nIt was some time before Aladdin\u2019s eyes could bear the light, after\nhaving been so long in total darkness; but after he had endeavoured\nby degrees to support it, and began to look about him, he was very\nmuch surprised not to find the earth open, and could not comprehend\nhow he had got so soon out of its bowels. There was nothing to be\nseen but the place where the fire had been, by which he could nearly\njudge whereabouts the cave was. Then turning himself about towards\nthe town, he perceived it in the midst of the gardens that\nsurrounded it, and knew the way back by which the magician had\nbrought him to it; then, returning God thanks to see himself once\nmore in the world, where he never more expected to be, he made the\nbest of his way home. When he got within his mother\u2019s door, the\njoy to see her, and his faintness for want of sustenance for three\ndays, made him faint, and he remained for a long time as dead. His\nmother, who had given him over for lost or dead, seeing him in this\ncondition, omitted nothing to bring him to himself again. As soon as\nhe recovered, the first words he spake were, Pray, mother, give me\nsomething to eat, for I have not put a morsel of any thing into my\nmouth these three days. His mother brought what she had, and set it\nbefore him. My son, said she, be not too eager, for it is dangerous;\neat but a little at a time, and take care of yourself. Besides, I\nwould not have you talk; you will have time enough to tell me what\nhas happened to you when you are recovered. It is a great comfort to\nme to see you again, after the affliction I have been in since\nFriday, and the pains I have taken to learn what had become of you,\never since I found it was night, and you were not returned.\n\nAladdin took his mother\u2019s advice, and eat and drank moderately.\nWhen he had done, Mother, said he to her, I cannot help complaining\nof you, for abandoning me so easily to the discretion of a man who\nhad a design to kill me, and who at this very moment thinks my death\ncertain. You believed he was my uncle, as well as I; and what other\nthoughts could we entertain of a man who was so kind to me, and made\nsuch advantageous proffers? But I must tell you, mother, he is a\nrogue and a cheat, and only did what he did, and made me all those\npromises, to accomplish my death; but for what reason neither you\nnor I can guess. For my part, I can assure you I never gave him any\ncause to deserve the least ill treatment from him. You shall judge\nof it yourself, when you have heard all that passed from the time I\nleft you, till he came to the execution of his wicked design.\n\nThen Aladdin began to tell his mother all that happened to him on\nFriday, when the magician took him to see the palaces and gardens\nabout that town, and what fell out in the way, till they came to the\nplace between the two mountains, where the great prodigy was to be\nperformed; how, with incense which the magician threw into the fire,\nand some magical words which he pronounced, the earth opened, and\ndiscovered a cave, which led to an inestimable treasure. He forgot\nnot the blow the magician gave him, and in what manner he softened\nagain, and engaged him by great promises, and putting a ring on his\nfinger, to go down into the cave. He did not omit the least\ncircumstance of what he saw in crossing the three halls and the\ngarden, and his taking the wonderful lamp, which he pulled out of\nhis bosom and showed to his mother, as well as the transparent fruit\nof different colours, which he had gathered in the garden as he\nreturned, two purses full of which he gave to his mother. But,\nthough these fruits were precious stones, brilliant as the sun, and\nthe reflection of a lamp which then lighted the room might have led\nthem to think they were of great value, she was as ignorant of their\nworth as her son, and cared nothing for them. She had been bred in a\nmiddling rank of life, and her husband\u2019s poverty prevented her\nbeing possessed of such things, nor had she, or her relations, or\nneighbours, ever seen them, so that we must not wonder that she\nlooked on them as things of no value, and only pleasing to the eye\nby the variety of their colours.\n\nAladdin put them behind one of the cushions of the sofa he sat upon,\nand continued his story, telling his mother, that when he returned\nand presented himself at the mouth of the cave, upon his refusal to\ngive the magician the lamp till he had got out, the stone, by his\nthrowing some incense into the fire, and using two or three magical\nwords, stopped it up, and the earth closed again. He could not help\nbursting into tears at the representation of the miserable condition\nhe was in, to find himself buried alive in a dismal cave, till by\nthe touching of his ring, the virtue of which he was then an entire\nstranger to, he, properly speaking, came to life again. When he had\nmade an end of his story, he said to his mother, I need say no more;\nyou know the rest. This is my adventure, and the danger I have been\nexposed to since you saw me.\n\nAladdin\u2019s mother heard with so much patience as not to interrupt\nhim, this surprising and wonderful relation, notwithstanding it\ncould be no small affliction to a mother, who loved her son\ntenderly; but yet in the most moving part, which discovered the\nperfidy of the African magician, she could not help showing, by\nmarks of the greatest indignation, how much she detested him; and\nwhen Aladdin had finished his story, she broke out into a thousand\nreproaches against that vile impostor. She called him perfidious\ntraitor, barbarian, assassin, deceiver, magician, and an enemy and\ndestroyer of mankind. Without doubt, child, added she, he is a\nmagician, and they are plagues to the world, and by their\nenchantments and sorceries have commerce with the devil. Bless God\nfor preserving you from his wicked designs; for your death would\nhave been inevitable, if you had not called upon him and implored\nhis assistance.\n\nShe said a great deal more against the magician\u2019s treachery; but\nfinding while she talked, her son Aladdin, who had not slept for\nthree days and nights, began to nod, she put him to bed, and soon\nafter went to bed herself.\n\nAladdin, who had not had one wink of sleep while he was in the\nsubterraneous abode, slept very heartily all that night, and never\nwaked till the next morning; when the first thing that he said to\nhis mother was, he wanted something to eat, and that she could not\ndo him a greater pleasure than to give him his breakfast. Alas!\nchild said she, I have not a bit of bread to give you, you ate up\nall the provisions I had in the house yesterday; but have a little\npatience, and it shall not be long before I will bring you some; I\nhave a little cotton which I have spun; I will go and sell it, and\nbuy bread, and something for our dinner. Mother, replied Aladdin,\nkeep your cotton against another time, and give me the lamp I\nbrought home yesterday; I will go and sell it, and the money I shall\nget for it will serve both for breakfast and dinner, and perhaps\nsupper too.\n\nAladdin\u2019s mother took the lamp, and said to her son, Here it is,\nbut it is very dirty: if it was a little cleaner, I believe it would\nbring something more. She took a little fine sand and water to clean\nit; but had no sooner begun to rub it, but in an instant a hideous\ngenie of gigantic size appeared before her, and said to her in a\nvoice like thunder, What wouldst thou have? I am ready to obey thee\nas thy slave, and the slave of all those who have that lamp in their\nhands, I and the other slaves of the lamp.\n\n[Illustration: THE GENIUS OF THE LAMP APPEARING TO ALADDIN AND HIS\nMOTHER.]\n\nAladdin\u2019s mother was not able to speak at the sight of this\nfrightful genie, but fainted away; when Aladdin, who had once before\nseen such another genie in the cavern, without losing time or\nreflection, snatched the lamp out of his mother\u2019s hands, and said\nto the genie boldly, I am hungry; bring me something to eat. The\ngenii disappeared immediately, and in an instant returned with a\nlarge silver basin on his head, and twelve covered plates of the\nsame metal, which contained some excellent meats; six large white\nloaves on two other plates, and two bottles of wine, and two silver\ncups in each hand. All these things he placed upon a table and\ndisappeared; and all this was done before Aladdin\u2019s mother came\nout of her swoon.\n\nAladdin went presently and fetched some water, and threw it in her\nface, to recover her: whether that or the smell of the meats the\ngenie procured, brought her to life again, it was not long before\nshe came to herself. Mother, said Aladdin, do not mind this; it is\nnothing at all; get up, and come and eat; here is what will put you\nin heart, and at the same time satisfy my extreme hunger: do not let\nsuch fine meat be cold, but fall to.\n\nHis mother was very much surprised to see the great basin, twelve\nplates, six loaves and the two bottles and cups, and to smell the\ndelicious odour which exhaled from the plates. Child, said she to\nAladdin, to whom are we obliged for this great plenty and\nliberality? Has the sultan been made acquainted with our poverty,\nand had compassion on us? It is no matter, mother, said Aladdin; let\nus sit down and eat; for you have almost as much need of a good\nbreakfast as myself; when we have done, I will tell you. Accordingly\nboth mother and son sat down, and ate with the better stomach, as\nthe table was so well furnished. But at the time Aladdin\u2019s mother\ncould not forbear looking at and admiring the basin and plates,\nthough she could not well tell whether they were silver or any other\nmetal, so little accustomed was she and her son to see such, and the\nnovelty more than the value attracted their attention.\n\nIn short, the mother and son sat at breakfast till it was\ndinner-time, and then they thought it would be best to put the two\nmeals together; yet after this, they found they should have enough\nleft for supper, and two meals for the next day.\n\nWhen Aladdin\u2019s mother had taken away, and set by what was left,\nshe went and sat down by her son on the sofa. Aladdin, said she, I\nexpect now that you should satisfy my impatience, and tell me\nexactly what passed between the genie and you while I was in a\nswoon, which he presently complied with.\n\nShe was in as great amazement at what her son told her, as at the\nappearance of the genie, and said to him, But son, what have we to\ndo with genies? I never in my life heard that any of my acquaintance\nhad ever seen one. How came that vile genie to address himself to\nme, and not to you, to whom he had appeared before in the cave?\nMother, answered Aladdin, the genie you saw is not the same who\nappeared to me, though he resembles him in size; no, they had quite\ndifferent persons and habits; they belong to different masters. If\nyou remember, he that I first saw called himself the slave of the\nring on my finger; and this you saw called himself the slave of the\nlamp you had in your hand; but I believe you did not hear him, for I\nthink you fainted away as soon as he began to speak.\n\nWhat! cried the mother, was your lamp then the occasion of that\ncursed genie\u2019s addressing himself rather to me than to you? Ah! my\nson, take it out of my sight, and put it where you please. I will\nnever touch it. I had rather you would sell it than run the hazard\nof being frightened to death again by touching it; and if you would\ntake my advice, you would part also with the ring, and not have any\nthing to do with genies, who, as our prophet has told us, are only\ndevils.\n\nWith your leave, mother, replied Aladdin, I shall now take care how\nI sell a lamp, as I was going to do, which may be so serviceable\nboth to you and me. Have not you been an eye-witness of what it hath\nprocured us, and it shall still continue to furnish us with\nsubsistence and maintenance. You may suppose, as I do, that my false\nand wicked uncle would not have taken so much pains, and undertaken\nso long and tedious a journey, if it had not been to get into his\npossession this wonderful lamp, which he preferred before all the\ngold and silver which he knew was in the halls, and which I have\nseen with my own eyes. He knew too well the merit and worth of this\nlamp, not to prefer it to so great a treasure; and since chance hath\ndiscovered the virtue of it to us, let us make a profitable use of\nit, without making any great stir, and drawing the envy and jealousy\nof our neighbours upon us. However, since the genies fright you so\nmuch, I will take it out of your sight, and put it where I may find\nit when I want it. As for the ring, I cannot resolve to part with\nthat neither; for, without that, you had never seen me again; and\nthough I am alive now, perhaps, if it was gone, I might not be so\nsome moments hence; therefore I hope you will give me leave to keep\nthat, and to wear it always on my finger. Who knows what dangers you\nand I may be exposed to, which neither of us can foresee, and which\nit may deliver us from? As Aladdin\u2019s arguments were just, and had\na great deal of weight in them, his mother had nothing to say\nagainst them; but only replied, that he might do what he pleased,\nbut for her part, she would have nothing to do with genies, but\nwould wash her hands of them, and never say any thing mere about\nthem.\n\nBy the next night they had eaten all the provisions the genie had\nbrought; and the next day Aladdin, who could not bear the thoughts\nof hunger, took one of the silver plates under his coat, and went\nout early to sell it, and addressing himself to a Jew whom he met in\nthe streets, took him aside, and pulling out the plate, asked him if\nhe would buy it. The cunning Jew took the plate and examined it, and\nno sooner found that it was good silver, but he asked Aladdin how\nmuch he valued it at. Aladdin, who knew not the value of it, and\nnever had been used to such traffic, told him he would trust to his\njudgment and honour. The Jew was somewhat confounded at this plain\ndealing; and doubting whether Aladdin understood the material, or\nthe full value of what he offered to sell him, he took a piece of\ngold out of his purse and gave it him, though it was but the\nsixtieth part of the worth of the plate. Aladdin took the money very\neagerly, and, as soon as he got it in his pocket, retired with so\nmuch haste, that the Jew, not content with the exorbitancy of his\nprofit, was vexed he had not penetrated into Aladdin\u2019s ignorance,\nand was going to run after him, to endeavour to get some change out\nof the piece of gold; but Aladdin ran so fast, and had got so far,\nthat it would have been impossible for him to overtake him.\n\nBefore Aladdin went home to his mother, he called at a baker\u2019s,\nbought a loaf, changed his money, and went home, and gave the rest\nto his mother, who went and bought provisions enough to last them\nsome time. After this manner they lived, till Aladdin had sold the\ntwelve plates, one at a time, to the Jew, for the same money; who,\nafter the first time, durst not offer him less, for fear of losing\nso good a chap. When he had sold the last plate, he had recourse to\nthe basin, which weighed ten times as much as the plate, and would\nhave carried it to his old purchaser, but that it was too large and\ncumbersome; therefore he was obliged to bring him home with him to\nhis mother\u2019s, where, after the Jew had examined the weight of the\nbasin, he laid down ten pieces of gold, with which Aladdin was very\nwell satisfied.\n\nThey lived on these ten pieces in a frugal manner a pretty while;\nand Aladdin, who had been used to an idle life, left off playing\nwith young lads of his own age ever since his adventure with the\nAfrican magician. He spent his time in walking about, and talking\nwith people with whom he had got acquainted. Sometimes he would stop\nat the most capital merchants\u2019 shops, where people of distinction\nmet, and listen to their discourse, by which he gained some little\nknowledge of the world.\n\nWhen all the money was spent, Aladdin had recourse again to the\nlamp. He took it in his hand, looked for the same place where his\nmother had rubbed it with the sand, and rubbed it also, and the\ngenie immediately appeared, and said, What wouldst thou have? I am\nready to obey thee as thy slave, and the slave of all those who have\nthat lamp in their hands; I, and the other slaves of the lamp. I am\nhungry, said Aladdin; bring me something to eat. The genie\ndisappeared, and presently returned with a basin, and the same\nnumber of covered plates, &c. and set them down on a table, and\nvanished again.\n\nAladdin\u2019s mother, knowing what her son was going to do, went out\nat that time about some business, on purpose to avoid being in the\nway when the genie came; and when she returned, which was in a short\ntime, and found the table and sideboard so furnished a second time,\nwas almost as much surprised as before, at the prodigious effect of\nthe lamp. However, she sat down with her son, and when they had\neaten as much as they had a mind to, she set enough by to last them\ntwo or three days.\n\nAs soon as Aladdin found that their provisions and money were spent,\nhe took one of these plates, and went to look for his Jew chapman\nagain; but passing by a goldsmith\u2019s shop, who had the character of\na very fair and honest man, the goldsmith perceiving him, called to\nhim, and said, My lad, I have often observed you go by, loaded as\nyou are at present, and talk with such a Jew, and then come back\nagain empty-handed. I imagine that you carry something that you sell\nto him; but perhaps you do not know what a rogue he is, and that he\nis the greatest rogue among all the Jews, and is so well known, that\nnobody will have any thing to do with him. What I tell you is for\nyour own good. If you will show me what you now carry, and it is to\nbe sold, I will give you the full worth of it; or I will direct you\nto other merchants who will not cheat you.\n\nThe hopes of getting more money for his plate induced Aladdin to\npull it from under his coat, and show it to the goldsmith. The old\nman, who at first sight saw that it was made of the finest silver,\nasked him if he had sold any such as that to the Jew, and Aladdin\ntold him plainly that he had sold him twelve such, for a piece of\ngold each. What a villain! cried the goldsmith; but, added he, my\nson, what is past cannot be recalled. By showing you the value of\nthis plate, which is of the finest silver we use in our shops, I\nwill let you see how much the Jew has cheated you.\n\nThe goldsmith took a pair of scales, weighed the plate, and after he\nhad told Aladdin how much an ounce of fine silver contained and was\nworth, he demonstrated to him that his plate was worth by weight\nsixty pieces of gold, which he paid him down immediately. If you\ndispute my honesty, said he, you may go to any other of our trade,\nand if he gives you any more, I will be bound to forfeit twice as\nmuch; for we gain only the fashion of the plate that we buy, and\nthat the fairest dealing Jews do not.\n\nAladdin thanked him for his good advice, so greatly to his\nadvantage, and never after went to any other person, but sold him\nall his plates and the basin, and had as much for them as the weight\ncame to.\n\nThough Aladdin and his mother had an inexhaustible treasure of money\nin their lamp, and might have whatever they had a mind to whenever\nthey pleased, yet they lived with the same frugality as before,\nexcept that Aladdin went more neat: as for his mother, she wore no\nclothes but what she earned by her spinning cotton. After their\nmanner of living, we may easily suppose, that the money Aladdin had\nsold the plates and basin for was sufficient to maintain them some\ntime. They went on for many years by the help of the produce\nAladdin, from time to time, made of his lamp.\n\nDuring this time, Aladdin frequented the shops of the principal\nmerchants, where they sold cloth of gold and silver, and linens,\nsilk stuffs, and jewellery, and oftentimes joining in their\nconversation, acquired a complete knowledge of the world, and\nassumed its manners. By his acquaintance among the jewellers, he\ncame to know that the fine fruit which he had gathered when he took\nthe lamp, were not coloured glass, but stones of extraordinary\nvalue. For as he had seen all sorts of jewels bought and sold in\ntheir shops, but none that were so beautiful or so large as his, he\nfound, that instead of coloured glass, he possessed an inestimable\ntreasure; but had the prudence not to say any thing of it to any\none, not even to his mother.\n\nOne day as Aladdin was walking about the town, he heard an order of\nthe sultan\u2019s published, for all people to shut up their shops and\nhouses, and keep within doors, while the princess Badroulboudour,\n[97] the sultan\u2019s daughter, went to the baths and back again.\n\nThis public order inspired Aladdin with a great curiosity to see the\nprincess\u2019s face, which he could not do without getting into the\nhouse of some acquaintance, and through a window; but this did not\nsatisfy him, when he considered that the princess, when she went to\nthe baths, had a veil on; but to gratify his curiosity, he presently\nthought of a scheme which succeeded; that was, to place himself\nbehind the door of the bath, which was so situated that he could not\nfail of seeing her face.\n\nAladdin had not waited long before the princess came, and he could\nsee her plainly through a chink of the door without being seen. She\nwas attended with a great crowd of ladies, slaves, and eunuchs, who\nwalked on each side and behind her. When she came within three or\nfour paces from the door of the baths, she took off her veil, and\ngave Aladdin an opportunity of a full look at her.\n\nTill then Aladdin, who had never seen any woman\u2019s face but his\nmother\u2019s, who was old, and never could boast of any such features,\nthought that all women were like her, and could hear people talk of\nthe most surprising beauties without being the least moved; for\nwhatever words are made use of to set off the merit of a beauty,\nthey can never make the same impression as the beauty herself.\n\nBut as soon as Aladdin had seen the princess Badroulboudour, his\nsentiments were very much changed, and his heart could not withstand\nall those inclinations so charming an object inspires. The princess\nwas the most beautiful brunette in the world; her eyes were large,\nlively, and sparkling; her looks sweet and modest; her nose was of a\njust proportion and without a fault; her mouth small, her lips of a\nvermilion red, and charmingly agreeable symmetry; in a word, all the\nfeatures of her face were perfectly regular. It is not therefore\nsurprising that Aladdin, who had never seen, and was a stranger to\nso many charms, was dazzled, and his senses quite ravished with such\nan assemblage. With all these perfections, the princess had so\ndelicate a shape, so majestic an air, that the sight of her was\nsufficient to inspire respect.\n\nAfter the princess had passed by Aladdin, and entered the baths, he\nremained some time astonished, and in a kind of ecstacy, retracing\nand imprinting the idea of so charming an object deeply in his mind.\nBut at last considering that the princess was gone past him, and\nthat when she returned from the bath her back would be towards him,\nand then veiled, he resolved to quit his post and go home. But when\nhe came there, he could not conceal his uneasiness so well but that\nhis mother perceived it, and was very much surprised to see him so\nmuch more thoughtful and melancholy than usual; and asked him what\nhad happened to him to make him so, or if he was ill. Aladdin\nreturned her no answer, but sat carelessly down on the sofa, and\nremained in the same condition, full of the image of the charming\nBadroulboudour. His mother, who was dressing supper, pressed him no\nmore. When it was ready, she set it on the table before him; but\nperceiving that he gave no attention to it, she bid him eat, and had\nmuch ado to persuade him to change his place; and when he did, he\nate much less than usual, and all the time cast down his eyes, and\nobserved so profound a silence, that she could not possibly get the\nleast word out of him in answer to all the questions she put, to\nfind the reason of so extraordinary an alteration.\n\nAfter supper, she asked him again, why he was so melancholy, but\ncould get no information, and he determined to go to bed rather than\ngive her the least satisfaction. Without examining how Aladdin,\npassed the night, his mind full as it was with the beautiful charms\nof the princess Badroulboudour, I shall only observe, that as he sat\nnext day on the sofa, over against his mother, as she was spinning\ncotton, he spoke to her in these words: I perceive, mother, that my\nsilence yesterday has very much troubled you; I was not, nor am I\nsick, as I fancy you believed; but I can tell you, that what I felt\nthen, and now endure, is worse than any disease. I cannot tell well\nwhat ails me; but doubt not what I am going to tell you will inform\nyou.\n\nIt was not known in this quarter of the town, and therefore you\ncould know nothing of it, that the princess Badroulboudour, the\nsultan\u2019s daughter, was to go to the baths after dinner. I heard\nthis as I walked about the town, and an order was issued, that, to\npay all the respect that was due to that princess, all the shops\nshould be shut up in her way thither, and every body keep within\ndoors, to leave the streets free for her and her attendants. As I\nwas not then far from the bath, I had a great curiosity to see the\nprincess\u2019s face; and as it occurred to me that the princess, when\nshe came nigh the door of the bath, would pull her veil off, I\nresolved to get behind that door. You know the situation of the\ndoor, and may imagine that I must have a full view of her, if it\nhappened as I expected. The princess threw off her veil, and I had\nthe happiness of seeing her lovely face with the greatest\nsatisfaction imaginable. This, mother, was the cause of my\nmelancholy and silence yesterday; I love the princess with so much\nviolence, that I cannot express it; and as my lively passion\nincreases every moment, I cannot live without the possession of the\namiable princess Badroulboudour, and am resolved to ask her in\nmarriage of the sultan her father.\n\nAladdin\u2019s mother listened with attention to what her son told her:\nbut when he talked of asking the princess Badroulboudour in marriage\nof the sultan, she could not help bursting out into a loud laugh.\nAladdin would have gone on with his discourse, but she interrupted\nhim: Alas! child, said she, what are you thinking of? you must be\nmad to talk so.\n\nI assure you, mother, replied Aladdin, that I am not mad, but in my\nright senses: I foresaw that you would reproach me with this folly\nand extravagance; but I must tell you once more, that I am resolved\nto demand the princess Badroulboudour of the sultan in marriage, and\nyour remonstrances shall not prevent me.\n\nIndeed, son, replied the mother seriously, I cannot help telling\nyou, that you have quite forgot yourself; and if you would put this\nresolution of yours in execution, I do not see who you can get to\nventure to propose it for you. You yourself, replied he immediately.\nI go to the sultan! answered the mother, amazed and surprised. I\nshall take care how I engage in such an affair. Why, who are you,\nson, continued she, that you can have the assurance to think of your\nsultan\u2019s daughter? Have you forgot that your father was one of the\npoorest tailors in the capital, and that I am of no better\nextraction? and do not you know, that sultans never marry their\ndaughters but to princes, sons of sultans like themselves?\n\nMother, answered Aladdin, I have already told you that I foresaw all\nthat you have said, or can say: and tell you again, that neither\nyour discourse nor your remonstrances, shall make me change my mind.\nI have told you that you must ask the princess Badroulboudour in\nmarriage for me: it is a favour I desire of you, with all the\nrespect I owe you; and I beg of you not to refuse me, unless you\nwould rather see me in my grave, than by so doing give me new life.\n\nThe good old woman was very much embarrassed, when she found Aladdin\nso obstinately persisting in so foolish a design. My son, said she\nagain, I am your mother, who brought you into the world, and there\nis nothing that is reasonable but I would readily do for you. If I\nwas to go and treat about your marriage with some neighbour\u2019s\ndaughter, whose circumstances were equal with yours, I would do it\nwith all my heart; and then they would expect you should have some\nlittle estate or fortune, or be of some trade. When such poor folks\nas we are have a mind to marry, the first thing they ought to think\nof, is how to live. But without reflecting on the meanness of your\nbirth, and the little merit and fortune you have to recommend you,\nyou aim at the highest pitch of fortune; and your pretensions are no\nless than to demand in marriage the daughter of your sovereign, who\nwith one single word, can crush you to pieces. I say nothing of what\nrespects yourself. I leave you to reflect on what you have to do, if\nyou have ever so little thought. I come now to consider what\nconcerns myself. How could so extraordinary a thought come into your\nhead, as that I should go to the sultan, and make a proposal to him,\nto give his daughter in marriage to you? Suppose I had, not to say\nthe boldness, but the impudence to present myself before the sultan,\nand make so extravagant a request, to whom should I address myself\nto be introduced to his majesty? Do you not think the first person I\nshould speak to would take me for a mad woman, and chastise me as I\nshould deserve? Suppose there is no difficulty in presenting myself\nto an audience of the sultan, as I know there is none to those who\ngo to ask justice, which he distributes equally among his subjects;\nI know too that to those who ask some favour, he grants it with\npleasure when he sees it is deserved, and the persons are worthy of\nit. But is that your case? and do you think you have deserved the\nfavour you would have me ask for you? are you worthy of it? What\nhave you done to deserve such a favour? What have you done either\nfor your prince or country? How have you distinguished yourself? If\nyou have done nothing to merit so great a favour, nor are worthy of\nit, with what face shall I ask it! How can I open my mouth to make\nthe proposal to the sultan? His majestic presence and the lustre of\nhis court would presently silence me, who used to tremble before my\nlate husband your father, when I asked him for any thing. Here is\nanother reason, my son, which you do not think of, which is, nobody\never goes to ask a favour of the sultan without a present; for by a\npresent, they have this advantage, that if for some particular\nreasons the favour is denied, they are sure to be heard. But what\npresents have you to make? And if you had any that was worthy of the\nleast attention of so great a monarch, what proportion could it bear\nto the favour you would ask? Therefore, reflect well on what you are\nabout, and consider, that you aspire to a thing which is impossible\nfor you to obtain.\n\nAladdin heard very calmly all that his mother could say to endeavour\nto dissuade him from his design, and after he had weighed her\nrepresentation in all points, made answer: I own, mother, it is\ngreat rashness in me to presume to carry my pretensions so far; and\na great want of consideration, to ask you with so much heat and\nprecipitancy to go and make the proposal of my marriage to the\nsultan, without first taking proper measures to procure a favourable\nreception, and therefore beg your pardon. But be not surprised, that\nthrough the violence of my passion I did not at first sight see\nevery thing that was necessary to be done, to procure me that\nhappiness I seek after. I love the princess Badroulboudour beyond\nall you can imagine; or rather I adore her, and shall always\npersevere in my design, of marrying her; which is a thing I have\ndetermined and resolved on. I am obliged to you for the hint you\nhave given me, and look upon it as the first step I ought to take to\nprocure me the happy success I promise myself.\n\nYou say, it is not customary to go to the sultan without a present,\nand that I have nothing worthy of his acceptance. As to what you say\nabout the present, I agree with you, and own that I never thought of\nit; but as to what you say, that I have nothing fit to present him\nwith, do not you think, mother, that what I brought home with me\nthat day on which I was delivered from an inevitable death, may be\nan agreeable present? I mean those things you and I both took for\ncoloured glasses; but now I am undeceived, and can tell you that\nthey are jewels of an inestimable value, and fit for the greatest\nmonarchs. I know the worth of them by frequenting the jewellers\u2019\nshops; and you may take my word for it, all the jewels that I saw in\nthe most capital jewellers\u2019 shops were not to be compared to those\nwe have, either for size or beauty, and yet they value them at an\nexcessive price. In short, neither you nor I know the value of ours;\nbut be it as it will, by the little experience I have, I am\npersuaded that they will be received very favourably by the sultan:\nyou have a large porcelain dish fit to hold them; fetch it, and let\nus see how they will look, when we have ranged them according to\ntheir different colours.\n\nAladdin\u2019s mother fetched the china dish, and he took the jewels\nout of the two purses in which he had kept them, and placed them in\nthe dish. But the brightness and lustre they had in the day-time,\nand the variety of the colours, so dazzled the eyes both of mother\nand son, that they were astonished beyond measure; for they had only\nseen them by the light of the lamp: for though Aladdin had seen them\nhang on the trees like fruit, beautiful to the eye, yet as he was\nbut a boy, he did not take much notice of them; but looked on them\nonly as trinkets.\n\nAfter they had admired the beauty of this present some time, Aladdin\nsaid to his mother, Now you cannot excuse yourself from going to the\nsultan, under the pretext of not having a present to make him, since\nhere is one which will gain you a favourable reception.\n\nThough Aladdin\u2019s mother, notwithstanding the beauty and lustre of\nthe present, did not believe it so valuable as her son esteemed it,\nshe thought it might nevertheless be agreeable to the sultan, and\nfound that she could not have any thing to say against it, but was\nalways thinking of the request Aladdin wanted her to make to the\nsultan by favour of his present. My son, said she, I cannot conceive\nthat your present will have its desired effect, and that the sultan\nwill look upon me with a favourable eye; and I am sure that if I\nattempt to acquit myself on this message of yours, I shall have no\npower to open my mouth; and therefore I shall not only lose my\nlabour, but the present, which you say is so extraordinary, and\nshall return home again in confusion, to tell you that your hopes\nare frustrated. I have told you the consequence, and you ought to\nbelieve me; but, added she, I will exert my best endeavour to please\nyou, and wish I may have power to ask the sultan as you would have\nme; but certainly he will either laugh at me, or send me back like a\nfool, or be in so great a rage, as to make us both the victims of\nhis fury.\n\nShe used a great many more arguments to endeavour to make him change\nhis mind; but the charms of the princess Badroulboudour had made too\ngreat an impression on his heart to dissuade him from his design.\nAladdin persisted in desiring his mother to execute his resolution,\nand she, as much out of tenderness as for fear he should be guilty\nof a greater piece of extravagance, condescended to his request.\n\nAs it was now late, and the time of day for going to the sultan\u2019s\npalace was passed, it was put off till the next. The mother and son\ntalked of different matters the remaining part of the day; and\nAladdin took a great deal of pains to encourage his mother in the\ntask she had undertaken to go to the sultan; while she,\nnotwithstanding all his arguments, could not persuade herself she\ncould ever succeed; and it must be confessed she had reason enough\nto doubt. Child, said she to Aladdin, if the sultan should receive\nme as favourably as I wish for your sake, and should hear my\nproposal with calmness, and after this kind reception should think\nof asking me where lie your riches and your estate, (for he will\nsooner inquire after these than your person,) if, I say, he should\nask me the question, what answer would you have me return him?\n\nLet us not be uneasy, mother, replied Aladdin, about what may never\nhappen. First, let us see how the sultan receives, and what answer\nhe gives you. If it should so fall out, that he desires to be\ninformed of all that you mention, I have thought of an answer, and\nam confident that the lamp, which hath subsisted us so long, will\nnot fail me in time of need.\n\nAladdin\u2019s mother could not say any thing against what her son then\nproposed; but reflected that the lamp might be capable of doing\ngreater wonders than just providing victuals for them. This\nconsideration satisfied her, and at the same time removed all the\ndifficulties which might have prevented her from undertaking the\nservice she had promised her son with the sultan; when Aladdin, who\npenetrated into his mother\u2019s thoughts, said to her, Above all\nthings, mother, be sure to keep the secret, for thereon depends the\nsuccess we have to expect; and after this caution, Aladdin and his\nmother parted to go to bed. But violent love, and the great prospect\nof so immense a fortune, had so much possessed the son\u2019s thoughts,\nthat he could not rest as well as he could have wished. He rose at\nday-break, and went presently and awakened his mother, pressing her\nto get herself dressed to go to the sultan\u2019s palace, and to get in\nfirst, as the grand vizier, the other viziers, and all the great\nofficers of state, went in to take their seats in the divan, where\nthe sultan always assisted in person.\n\nAladdin\u2019s mother did all her son desired. She took the china dish,\nin which they had put the jewels the day before, tied up in two\nnapkins, one finer than the other, which was tied at four corners\nfor more easy carriage, and set forwards for the sultan\u2019s palace,\nto the great satisfaction of Aladdin. When she came to the gates,\nthe grand vizier, and the other viziers and most distinguished lords\nof the court, were just gone in; and, notwithstanding the crowd of\npeople who had business at the divan was extraordinary great, she\ngot into the divan, which was a large spacious hall, the entry into\nwhich was very magnificent. She placed herself just before the\nsultan, grand vizier and the great lords, who sat in that council,\non his right and left hand. Several causes were called, according to\ntheir order, and pleaded and adjudged, until the time the divan\ngenerally broke up, when the sultan rising, dismissed the council,\nand returned to his apartment, attended by the grand vizier; the\nother viziers and ministers of state returned, as also did all those\nwhose business called them thither; some pleased with gaining their\ncauses, others dissatisfied at the sentences pronounced against\nthem, and some in expectation of theirs being heard the next sitting.\n\nAladdin\u2019s mother, seeing the sultan rise and retire, and all the\npeople go away, judged rightly that he would not come again that\nday, and resolved to go home. When Aladdin saw her return with the\npresent designed for the sultan, he knew not at first what to think\nof her success, and in the fear he was in lest she should bring him\nsome ill news, he had not courage enough to ask her any questions,\ntill his mother, who had never set foot into the sultan\u2019s palace\nbefore, and knew not what was every day practised there, freed him\nfrom his embarrassment, and said to him, with a great deal of\nsimplicity, Son, I have seen the sultan, and am very well persuaded\nhe has seen me too; for I placed myself just before him, and nothing\ncould hinder him from seeing me; but he was so much taken up with\nall those who talked on all sides of him, that I pitied him, and\nwondered at his patience to hear them. At last I believe he was\nheartily tired, for he rose up suddenly, and would not hear a great\nmany who were ready prepared to speak to him, but went away, at\nwhich I was very well pleased, for indeed I began to lose all\npatience, and was extremely tired with staying so long. But there is\nno harm done; I will go again to-morrow; perhaps the sultan may not\nbe so busy.\n\nThough Aladdin\u2019s passion was very violent, he was forced to be\nsatisfied with this excuse, and to fortify himself with patience. He\nhad at least the satisfaction to find that his mother had got over\nthe greatest difficulty, which to procure access to the sultan, and\nhoped that the example of those she saw speak to him would embolden\nher to acquit herself better of her commission when a favourable\nopportunity offered to speak to him.\n\nThe next morning she went to the sultan\u2019s palace with the present,\nas early as the day before, but when she came there; she found the\ngates of the divan shut, and understood that the council sat but\nevery other day, therefore she must come again the next. This news\nshe carried to her son, whose only relief was to guard himself with\npatience. She went six times afterwards on the days appointed,\nplaced herself always directly before the sultan, but with as little\nsuccess as the first time, and might have perhaps come a thousand\ntimes to as little purpose, if the sultan himself had not taken a\nparticular notice of her: for it is very probable that only those\nwho came with petitions approached the sultan, and each pleaded\ntheir cause in its turn, and Aladdin\u2019s mother was not one of them.\n\nThat day, at last, after the council was broke up, when the sultan\nwas returned to his own apartment, he said to his grand vizier, I\nhave for some time observed a certain woman, who comes constantly\nevery day that I go into council, and has something wrapped up in a\nnapkin: she always stands up from the beginning to the breaking up\nof the council, and affects to place herself just before me. Do you\nknow what she wants?\n\nSir, replied the grand vizier, who knew no more than the sultan what\nshe wanted, but had not a mind to seem uninformed, your majesty\nknows that women often form complaints on trifles; perhaps this\nwoman may come to complain to your majesty, that somebody has sold\nher some bad flour, or some such trifling matter. The sultan was not\nsatisfied with this answer, but replied, If this woman comes again\nnext council-day, do not fail to call her, that I may hear what she\nhas to say. The grand vizier made answer by kissing his hand, and\nlifting it up above his head, signifying his willingness to lose it\nif he failed.\n\nBy this time Aladdin\u2019s mother was so much used to go to the\ncouncil, and stand before the sultan, that she did not think it any\ntrouble, if she could but satisfy her son that she neglected nothing\nthat lay in her power to please him: so the next council-day she\nwent to the divan, and placed herself before the sultan as usual;\nand before the grand vizier had made his report of business, the\nsultan perceived her, and compassionated her for having waited so\nlong, he said to the vizier, before you enter upon any business,\nremember the woman I spoke to you about: bid her come near, and let\nus hear and despatch her business first. The grand vizier\nimmediately called the chief of the officers, who stood ready to\nobey his commands; and pointing to her, bid him go to that woman,\nand tell her to come before the sultan.\n\nThe chief of the officers went to Aladdin\u2019s mother, and at a sign\nhe gave her, she followed him to the foot of the sultan\u2019s throne,\nwhere he left her, and retired to his place by the grand vizier.\nAladdin\u2019s mother, by the example of a great many others whom she\nsaw salute the sultan, bowed her head down to the carpet, which\ncovered the steps of the throne, and remained in that posture till\nthe sultan bid her rise, which she had no sooner done, than the\nsultan said to her, Good woman, I have observed you to stand a long\ntime, from the beginning to the rising of the divan; what business\nbrings you here?\n\nAt these words, Aladdin\u2019s mother prostrated herself a second time;\nand when she got up again, said, Monarch of monarchs, before I tell\nyour majesty the extraordinary and almost incredible business which\nbrings me before your high throne, I beg of you to pardon the\nboldness or rather impudence of the demand I am going to make, which\nis so uncommon, that I tremble, and am ashamed to propose it to my\nsultan. In order to give her the more freedom to explain herself,\nthe sultan ordered every body to go out of the divan but the grand\nvizier, and then told her that she might speak without restraint.\n\nAladdin\u2019s mother, not content with this favour of the sultan\u2019s\nto save her the trouble and confusion of speaking before so many\npeople, was notwithstanding for securing herself against his anger,\nwhich, from the proposal she was going to make, she was not a little\napprehensive of; therefore resuming her discourse, she said, I beg\nof your majesty, if you should think my demand the least injurious\nor offensive, to assure me first of your pardon and forgiveness.\nWell, replied the sultan, I will forgive you, be it what it will,\nand no hurt shall come to you: speak boldly.\n\nWhen Aladdin\u2019s mother had taken all these precautions, for fear of\nthe sultan\u2019s anger, she told him faithfully how Aladdin had seen\nthe princess Badroulboudour, the violent love that fatal sight had\ninspired him with, the declaration he had made to her of it when he\ncame home, and what representations she had made to dissuade him\nfrom a passion, no less injurious, said she, to your majesty, as\nsultan, than to the princess your daughter. But, continued she, my\nson, instead of taking my advice and reflecting on his boldness, was\nso obstinate as to persevere in it, and to threaten me with some\ndesperate act, if I refused to come and ask the princess in marriage\nof your majesty; and it was not till after an extreme violence on\nmyself, I was forced to have this complaisance for him, for which I\nbeg your majesty once more to pardon not only me, but forgive\nAladdin my son, for entertaining such a rash thought as to aspire to\nso high an alliance.\n\nThe sultan hearkened to this discourse with a great deal of\nmildness, without showing the least anger or passion; but before he\ngave her any answer, he asked her what she had brought tied up in\nthat napkin. She took the china dish, which she had set down at the\nfoot of the throne before she prostrated herself before him; she\nuntied it, and presented it to the sultan.\n\nThe sultan\u2019s amazement and surprise were inexpressible, when he\nsaw so many large, beautiful, and valuable jewels, collected in one\ndish. He remained for some time motionless with admiration. At last,\nwhen he had recovered himself, he received the present from\nAladdin\u2019s mother\u2019s hand, and crying out in a transport of joy,\nHow rich and now beautiful! After he had admired and handled all the\njewels, one after another, he turned about to his grand vizier, and\nshowing him the dish, said, Look here, and confess that your eyes\nnever beheld any thing so rich and beautiful before. The vizier was\ncharmed. Well, continued the sultan, what sayest thou to such a\npresent? Is it not worthy of the princess my daughter? And ought I\nnot to bestow her on one who values her at so great a price.\n\nThese words put the grand vizier into a strange agitation. The\nsultan had some time before signified to him his intention of\nbestowing the princess his daughter on a son of his; therefore he\nwas afraid, and not without grounds, that the sultan, dazzled by so\nrich and extraordinary a present, might change his mind. Thereupon,\ngoing to him, and whispering him in the ear, he said to him, Sir, I\ncannot but own the present is worthy of the princess; but I beg of\nyour majesty to grant me three months before you come to a\nresolution. I hope, before that time, my son, on whom you have had\nthe goodness to look with a favourable eye, will be able to make a\nnobler present than Aladdin, who is an entire stranger to your\nmajesty.\n\nThe sultan, though he was very well persuaded that it was not\npossible for the vizier to provide so considerable a present for his\nson to make the princess, yet he hearkened to him, and granted him\nthat favour. So turning about to Aladdin\u2019s mother, he said to her,\nGood woman, go home, and tell your son that I agree to the proposal\nyou have made me; but I cannot marry the princess my daughter till\nsome furniture I design for her be got ready, which cannot be\nfinished these three months; but at the expiration of that time come\nagain.\n\nAladdin\u2019s mother returned home much more overjoyed than she could\nhave imagined, for she looked upon her access to the sultan as a\nthing impossible; and besides, she had met with a favourable answer,\ninstead of the refusal and confusion she expected. From two\ncircumstances, Aladdin, when he saw his mother return, judged that\nshe brought him good news; the one was, that she returned sooner\nthan ordinary, and the next was, the gaiety of her countenance.\nWell, mother, said he to her, may I entertain any hopes, or must I\ndie with despair? When she had pulled off her veil, and had sat\nherself down on the sofa by him, she said to him, Not to keep you\nlong in suspense, son, I will begin by telling you, that instead of\nthinking of dying, you have every reason to be very well satisfied.\nThen pursuing her discourse, she told him, how that she had an\naudience before every body else, which made her come home so soon;\nthe precautions she had taken lest she should have displeased the\nsultan, by making the proposal of marriage between him and the\nprincess Badroulboudour, and the favourable answer she had from the\ncaliph\u2019s own mouth; and that, as far as she could judge, the\npresent wrought that powerful effect. But when I least expected it,\nsaid she, and he was going to give me an answer, the grand vizier\nwhispered him in the ear, and I was afraid might be some obstacle to\nhis good intention towards us.\n\nAladdin thought himself the most happy of all men, at hearing of\nthis news, and thanked his mother for all the pains she had taken in\nthe pursuit of this affair, the good success of which was of so\ngreat importance to his peace. Though, through his impatience to\nenjoy the object of his passion, three months seemed an age, yet he\ndisposed himself to wait with patience, relying on the sultan\u2019s\nword, which he looked upon to be irrevocable. But all that time he\nnot only counted the hours, days, and weeks, but every moment. When\ntwo of the three months were past, his mother one evening going to\nlight the lamp, and finding no oil in the house, went out to buy\nsome, and when she came into the city, found a general rejoicing.\nThe shops, instead of being shut up, were open, drest with foliage,\nevery one striving to show their zeal in the most distinguished\nmanner. The streets were crowded with officers in habits of\nceremony, mounted on horses richly caparisoned, each attended by a\ngreat many footmen. Aladdin\u2019s mother asked the oil-merchant what\nwas the meaning of all those doings. Whence came you, good woman,\nsaid he, that you don\u2019t know that the grand vizier\u2019s son is to\nmarry the princess Badroulboudour, the sultan\u2019s daughter,\nto-night? She will presently return from the baths; and these\nofficers that you see are to assist at the cavalcade to the palace,\nwhere the ceremony is to be solemnized.\n\nThis was news enough for Aladdin\u2019s mother. She ran till she was\nquite out of breath home to her son, who little suspected any such\nthing. Child, cried she, you are undone! you depend upon the\nsultan\u2019s fine promises, but they will come to nothing. Aladdin was\nterribly alarmed at these words. Mother, replied he, how do you know\nthe sultan has been guilty of a breach of promise? This night,\nanswered the mother, the grand vizier\u2019s son is to marry the\nprincess Badroulboudour. She then related how she had heard it; so\nthat from all circumstances, he had no reason to doubt the truth of\nwhat she said.\n\nAt this account Aladdin was thunder-struck. Any other man would have\nsunk under the shock; but a secret motive of jealousy soon roused\nhis spirits, and he bethought himself of the lamp, which had till\nthen been so useful to him; and without venting his rage in empty\nwords against the sultan, the vizier, or his son, he only said,\nPerhaps, mother, the vizier\u2019s son may not be so happy to-night as\nhe promises himself: while I go into my chamber a moment, do you go\nand get supper ready. She accordingly went about it, and she guessed\nthat her son was going to make use of the lamp, to prevent, if\npossible, the consummation of the marriage.\n\nWhen Aladdin had got into his chamber, he took the lamp, and rubbed\nit in the same place as before, and immediately the genie appeared,\nand said to him, What wouldst thou have? I am ready to obey thee as\nthy slave, and the slave of all those who have that lamp in their\nhands; I and the other slaves of the lamp. Hear me, said Aladdin;\nthou hast hitherto brought me whatever I wanted as to provisions;\nbut now I have business of the greatest importance for thee to\nexecute. I have demanded the princess Badroulboudour in marriage of\nthe sultan her father; he promised her to me, but only asked three\nmonths time; and instead of keeping that promise, has this night,\nbefore the expiration of that time, married her to the grand\nvizier\u2019s son. I have just heard this, and have no doubt of it.\nWhat I ask of you is, That as soon as the bride and bridegroom are\nin bed, you bring them both hither in their bed. Master, replied the\ngenie, I will obey you. Have you any other commands? None at\npresent, answered Aladdin; and then the genie disappeared.\n\nAladdin went down stairs, and supped with his mother, with the same\ntranquillity of mind as usual; and after supper, talked of the\nprincess\u2019s marriage as of an affair wherein he had not the least\nconcern; and afterwards returned to his own chamber again, and left\nhis mother to go to bed; but he, for his part, sat up till the genie\nhad executed his orders.\n\nIn the mean time, every thing was prepared with the greatest\nmagnificence in the sultan\u2019s palace to celebrate the princess\u2019s\nnuptials; and the evening was spent with all the usual ceremonies\nand great rejoicings till midnight, when the grand vizier\u2019s son,\non a signal given him by the chief of the princess\u2019s eunuchs,\nslipped away from the company, and was introduced by that officer\ninto the princess\u2019s apartment, where the nuptial bed was prepared.\nHe went to bed first, and in a little time after, the sultaness,\naccompanied by her own women, and those of the princess, brought the\nbride, who, according to the custom of new married ladies, made\ngreat resistance. The sultaness herself helped to undress her, put\nher into bed by a kind of violence, and, after having kissed her,\nand wished her good-night, retired with all the women, and the last\nwho came out shut the door.\n\nNo sooner was the door shut, but the genie, as the faithful slave of\nthe lamp, and punctual in executing the commands of those who\npossessed it, without giving the bridegroom the least time to caress\nhis bride, to the great amazement of them both, took up the bed, and\ntransported it in an instant into Aladdin\u2019s chamber, where he set\nit down.\n\nAladdin, who waited impatiently for this moment, did not suffer the\nvizier\u2019s son to remain long in bed with the princess. Take this\nnew-married man, said he to the genie, and shut him up in the house\nof office, and come again to-morrow morning after day-break. The\ngenie presently took the vizier\u2019s son out of bed, and carried him\nin his shirt whither Aladdin bid him; and after he had breathed upon\nhim, which prevented his stirring, he left him there.\n\nGreat as was Aladdin\u2019s love for the princess Badroulboudour, he\ndid not talk much to her when they were alone; but only said, with a\npassionate air, Fear nothing, adorable princess; you are here in\nsafety: for, notwithstanding the violence of my passion, which your\ncharms have kindled, it shall never exceed the bounds of the\nprofound respect I owe you. If I have been forced to come to this\nextremity, it is not with any intention of affronting you, but to\nprevent an unjust rival\u2019s possessing you, contrary to the sultan\nyour father\u2019s promise in favour of me.\n\nThe princess, who knew nothing of these particulars, gave very\nlittle attention to what Aladdin could say. The fright and amazement\nof so unexpected an adventure had put her into such a condition,\nthat he could not get one word from her. However, he undressed\nhimself, and got into the vizier\u2019s son\u2019s place, and lay with his\nback to the princess, putting a sabre between himself and her, to\nshow that he deserved to be punished, if he attempted any thing\nagainst her honour.\n\nAladdin, very well satisfied with having thus deprived his rival of\nthe happiness he had flattered himself with enjoying that night,\nslept very quietly, though the princess Badroulboudour never passed\na night so ill in her life; and if we consider the condition the\ngenie left the grand vizier\u2019s son in, we may imagine that the new\nbridegroom spent it much worse.\n\nAladdin had no occasion the next morning to rub the lamp to call the\ngenie; he came at the hour appointed, and just when he had done\ndressing himself, and said to him, I am here, master; what are your\ncommands? Go, said Aladdin, fetch the vizier\u2019s son out of the\nplace where you left him, and put him into his bed again, and carry\nit to the sultan\u2019s palace, from whence you brought it. The genie\npresently returned with the vizier\u2019s son. Aladdin took up his\nsabre, the bridegroom was laid by the princess, and in an instant\nthe nuptial bed was transported into the same chamber of the palace\nfrom whence it had been brought. But we must observe that all this\ntime the genie never appeared either to the princess or the grand\nvizier\u2019s son. His hideous form would have made them die with fear.\nNeither did they hear any thing of the discourse between Aladdin and\nhim; they only perceived the motion of the bed, and their\ntransportation from one place to another; which we may well imagine\nwas enough to frighten them.\n\nAs soon as the genie had set down the nuptial-bed to its proper\nplace, the sultan, curious to know how the princess his daughter had\nspent the wedding-night, opened the door to wish her good morning.\nThe grand vizier\u2019s son, who was almost perished with cold, by\nstanding in his shirt all night, and had not had time to warm\nhimself in bed, no sooner heard the door open, but he got out of\nbed, and ran into the wardrobe, where he had undressed himself the\nnight before.\n\nThe sultan went to the bed-side, kissed the princess between the\neyes, according to custom, wishing her a good-morrow, and asked her,\nsmiling, how she had passed the night. But lifting up her head, and\nlooking at her more earnestly, he was extremely surprised to see her\nso melancholy, and that neither by a blush nor any other sign she\ncould satisfy his curiosity. She only cast at him a sorrowful look,\nexpressive of great affliction or great dissatisfaction. He said a\nfew words to her; but finding that he could not get a word from her,\nhe attributed it to her modesty, and retired. Nevertheless, he\nsuspected that there was something extraordinary in this silence,\nand thereupon went immediately to the sultaness\u2019s apartment, and\ntold her in what a state he found the princess, and how she received\nhim. Sir, said the sultaness, your majesty ought not to be surprised\nat this behaviour; all new-married people always have a reserve\nabout them the next day; she will be quite another thing in two or\nthree days time, and then she will receive the sultan her father as\nshe ought; but I will go and see her, added she; I am very much\ndeceived if she receives me in the same manner.\n\nAs soon as the sultaness was dressed, she went to the princess\u2019\napartment, who was still in bed. She undrew the curtain, wished her\ngood-morrow, and kissed her. But how great was her surprise when she\nreturned no answer; and looking more attentively at her, she\nperceived her to be very much dejected, which made her judge that\nsomething had happened, which she did not understand. How comes it,\nchild, said the sultaness, that you do not return my caresses? Ought\nyou to treat your mother after this manner? And do you think I do\nnot know what may have happened in your circumstances? I am apt to\nbelieve you do not think so, and something extraordinary has\nhappened: come, tell me freely, and leave me no longer in a painful\nsuspense.\n\nAt last the princess Badroulboudour broke silence with a great sigh,\nand said, Alas! madam, most honoured mother, forgive me if I have\nfailed in the respect I owe you. My mind is so full of the\nextraordinary things which have befallen me this night, that I have\nnot yet recovered my amazement and fright, and scarce know myself.\nThen she told her, how the instant after she and her husband were in\nbed, the bed was transported into a dark dirty room, where he was\ntaken from her and carried away, where she knew not, and she was\nleft alone with a young man, who after he had said something to her,\nwhich her fright did not suffer her to hear, laid himself down by\nher, in her husband\u2019s place, but first put his sabre between them;\nand in the morning her husband was brought to her again, and the bed\nwas transported back to her own chamber in an instant. All this,\nsaid she, was but just done, when the sultan my father came into my\nchamber. I was so overwhelmed with grief, that I had not power to\nmake him one word of answer; therefore I am afraid that he is\noffended at the manner in which I received the honour he did me; but\nI hope he will forgive me, when he knows my melancholy adventure,\nand the miserable state I am in at present.\n\nThe sultaness heard all the princess told her very patiently, but\nwould not believe it. You did well, child, said she, not to speak of\nthis to your father: take care not to mention it to any body for you\nwill certainly be thought mad if you talk at this rate. Madam,\nreplied the princess, I can assure you I am in my right senses: ask\nmy husband, and he will tell you the same story. I will, said the\nsultaness; but if he should talk in the same manner, I shall not be\nbetter persuaded of the truth. Come, rise, and throw off this idle\nfancy: it will be a fine story indeed, if all the feasts and\nrejoicings in the kingdom should be interrupted by such a vision. Do\nnot you hear the trumpets sounding, and drums beating, and concerts\nof the finest music? Cannot all these inspire you with joy and\npleasure, and make you forget all the fancies you tell me of? At the\nsame time the sultaness called the princess\u2019s women, and after she\nhad seen her get up, and set her at her toilet, she went to the\nsultan\u2019s apartment, and told him that her daughter had got some\nodd notions in her head, but that there was nothing in them.\n\nThen she sent for the vizier\u2019s son, to know of him something of\nwhat the princess had told her; but he, thinking himself highly\nhonoured to be allied to the sultan, resolved to disguise the\nmatter. Son-in-law, said the sultaness, are you as much infatuated\nas your wife? Madam, replied the vizier\u2019s son, may I be so bold as\nto ask the reason of that question? Oh! that is enough, answered the\nsultaness; I ask no more, I see you are wiser than her.\n\nThe rejoicings lasted all that day in the palace, and the sultaness,\nwho never left the princess, forgot nothing to divert her, and\ninduce her to take part in the various diversions and shows; but she\nwas so struck with the idea of what had happened to her that night,\nthat it was easy to see her thoughts were entirely taken up about\nit. Neither was the grand vizier\u2019s son\u2019s affliction less, but\nthat his ambition made him disguise it, and nobody doubted but he\nwas a happy bridegroom.\n\nAladdin, who was well acquainted with what passed in the palace,\nnever disputed but that the new-married couple were to lie together\nagain that night, notwithstanding the troublesome adventure of the\nnight before; and therefore, having as great an inclination to\ndisturb them, he had recourse to his lamp, and when the genie\nappeared, and offered his service, he said to him, The grand\nvizier\u2019s son and the princess Badroulboudour are to lie together\nagain to-night: go, and as soon as they are in bed, bring the bed\nhither, as thou didst yesterday.\n\nThe genie obeyed Aladdin as faithfully and exactly as the day\nbefore: the grand vizier\u2019s son passed the night as coldly and\ndisagreeably as before, and the princess had the mortification again\nto have Aladdin for her bedfellow with the sabre between them. The\ngenie, according to Aladdin\u2019s orders, came the next morning, and\nbrought the bridegroom and laid him by his bride, and then carried\nthe bed and new-married couple back again to the palace.\n\nThe sultan, after the reception the princess Badroulboudour had\ngiven him that day, was very anxious to know how she passed the\nsecond night, and if she would give him the same reception, and\ntherefore went into her chamber as early as the morning before. The\ngrand vizier\u2019s son, more ashamed and mortified with the ill\nsuccess of this last night, no sooner heard him coming, but he\njumped out of bed, and ran hastily into the wardrobe. The sultan\nwent to the princess\u2019s bed-side, and after the caresses he had\ngiven her the former morning, bid her good morrow. Well, daughter,\nhe said, are you in a better humour than you was yesterday morning?\nStill the princess was silent, and the sultan perceived her to be\nmore troubled, and in greater confusion than before; he doubted not\nbut that something very extraordinary was the cause; but provoked\nthat his daughter should conceal it, he said to her, in a rage, with\nhis sabre in his hand, Daughter, tell me what is the matter, or I\nwill cut off your head immediately.\n\nThe princess, more frightened at the menaces and tone of the enraged\nsultan, than at the sight of the drawn sabre, at last broke silence,\nand said, with tears in her eyes, My dear father and sultan, I ask\nyour majesty\u2019s pardon if I have offended you, and hope, that out\nof your goodness and clemency you will have compassion on me, when I\nhave told you, in what a miserable condition I have spent this last\nnight and the night before.\n\nAfter this preamble, which appeased and affected the sultan, she\ntold him what had happened to her in so moving a manner, that he,\nwho loved her tenderly, was most sensibly grieved. She added, If\nyour majesty doubts the truth of this account, you may inform\nyourself from my husband, who, I am persuaded, will tell you the\nsame thing.\n\nThe sultan immediately felt all the extreme uneasiness so surprising\nan adventure must have given the princess. Daughter, said he, you\nare very much to blame for not telling me this yesterday, since it\nconcerns me as much as yourself. I did not marry you with an\nintention to make you miserable, but that you might enjoy all the\nhappiness you deserve and might hope for from a husband, who to me\nseemed agreeable to you. Efface all these troublesome ideas out of\nyour memory; I will take care and give orders that you shall have no\nmore such disagreeable and insupportable nights.\n\nAs soon as the sultan had got back to his own apartment, he sent for\nthe grand vizier. Vizier, said he, have you seen your son, and has\nhe not told you any thing? The vizier replied, No. Then the sultan\nrelated all that the princess Badroulboudour had told him, and\nafterwards said, I do not doubt but that my daughter has told me the\ntruth; but nevertheless I should be glad to have it confirmed by\nyour son; therefore go and ask him how it was.\n\nThe grand vizier went immediately to his son, and communicated to\nhim what the sultan had told him, and enjoined him to conceal\nnothing from him, but to tell him the whole truth. I will disguise\nnothing from you, father, replied the son, for indeed all that the\nprincess says is true; but what relates particularly to myself she\nknows nothing of. After my marriage, I have passed two such nights\nas are beyond imagination or expression; not to mention the fright I\nwas in, to feel my bed lifted up four times, and transported from\none place to another, without being able to guess how it was done.\nYou shall judge of the miserable condition I was in, to pass two\nwhole nights in nothing but my shirt, standing in a kind of privy,\nunable to stir out of the place where I was put, or to make the\nleast movement, though I could not perceive any obstacle to prevent\nme. Yet I must tell you that all this ill usage does not in the\nleast lessen those sentiments of love, respect, and gratitude I\nentertain for the princess, and of which she is so deserving; but I\nmust confess, that notwithstanding all the honour and splendour that\nattends my marrying my sovereign\u2019s daughter, I would much rather\ndie, than live longer in so great an alliance, if I must undergo\nwhat I have already endured. I do not doubt but that the princess\nentertains the same sentiments, and that she will readily agree to a\nseparation, which is so necessary both for her repose and mine.\nTherefore, father, I beg you, by the same tenderness you had for me\nto procure me so great an honour, to get the sultan\u2019s consent that\nour marriage may be declared null and void.\n\nNotwithstanding the grand vizier\u2019s ambition to have his son allied\nto the sultan, the firm resolution he saw he had formed to be\nseparated from the princess, made him not think it proper to propose\nto him to have a little patience for a few days, to see if this\ndisappointment would not have an end; but left him to go and give\nthe sultan an account of what he had told him, assuring him that all\nwas but too true, without waiting till the sultan himself, whom he\nfound pretty much disposed to it, spoke of breaking the marriage, he\nbegged of him to give his son leave to retire from the palace;\nalleging for an excuse, that it was not just that the princess\nshould be a moment longer exposed to so terrible a persecution upon\nhis son\u2019s account.\n\nThe grand vizier found no great difficulty to obtain what he asked.\nFrom that instant the sultan, who had determined it already, gave\norders to put a stop to all rejoicings in the palace and town, and\nsent expresses to all parts of his dominions to countermand his\nfirst orders; and, in a short time, all rejoicings ceased.\n\nThis sudden and unexpected change gave rise both in the city and\nkingdom to various speculations and inquiries; but no other account\ncould be given of it, except that both the vizier and his son went\nout of the palace very much dejected. Nobody but Aladdin knew the\nsecret. He rejoiced within himself for the happy success procured\nfor him by his lamp, which now he had no more occasion to rub, to\nproduce the genie to prevent the consummation of the marriage, which\nhe had certain information was broken off, and that his rival had\nleft the palace. But, what is most particular, neither the sultan\nnor the grand vizier, who had forgot Aladdin and his request, had\nthe least thought that he had any hand in the enchantment which\ncaused the dissolution of the marriage.\n\nNevertheless, Aladdin waited till the three months were completed,\nwhich the sultan had appointed for the consummation of the marriage\nbetween the princess Badroulboudour and himself; but the next day\nsent his mother to the palace, to remind the sultan of his promise.\n\nAladdin\u2019s mother went to the palace, as her son had bid her, and\nstood before the divan in the same place as before. The sultan no\nsooner cast his eyes upon her, but he knew her again, and remembered\nher business, and how long he had put her off: therefore when the\ngrand vizier was beginning to make his report, the sultan\ninterrupted him, and said, Vizier, I see the good woman who made me\nthe present some months hence; forbear your report till I have heard\nwhat she has to say. The vizier then looking about the divan,\npresently perceived Aladdin\u2019s mother, and sent the chief of the\nofficers for her.\n\nAladdin\u2019s mother came to the foot of the throne, and prostrated\nherself as usual, and when she rose up again, the sultan asked her\nwhat she would have. Sir, said she, I come to represent to your\nmajesty, in the name of my son Aladdin, that the three months, at\nthe end of which you ordered me to come again, are expired; and to\nbeg you to remember your promise.\n\nThe sultan, when he took this time to answer the request of this\ngood woman the first time he saw her, little thought of hearing any\nmore of a marriage, which he imagined must be very disagreeable to\nthe princess, when he only considered the meanness and poverty of\nAladdin\u2019s mother in her dress, not above the common run: but this\nsummons for him to be as good as his word was somewhat embarrassing\nto him; he declined giving an answer till he had consulted his\nvizier, and signified to him the little inclination he had to\nconclude a match for his daughter with a stranger, whose fortune he\nsupposed to be very mean indeed.\n\nThe grand vizier freely told the sultan his thoughts on the matter,\nand said to him, In my opinion, sir, there is an infallible way for\nyour majesty to avoid a match so disproportionable, without giving\nAladdin, were he better known to your majesty, any cause of\ncomplaint; which is, to set so high a value upon the princess, that\nwere he never so rich, he could not come up to. This is the only way\nto make him desist from so bold, not to say, rash an undertaking,\nwhich he never weighed before he engaged in it.\n\nThe sultan approving of the grand vizier\u2019s advice, turned about to\nAladdin\u2019s mother, and after some reflection, said to her, Good\nwoman, it is true sultans ought to be as good as their words, and I\nam ready to keep mine, by making your son happy by the marriage of\nthe princess my daughter. But as I cannot marry her without some\nvaluable consideration from your son, you may tell him I will fulfil\nmy promise as soon as he shall send me forty basins of massy gold,\nbrim-full of the same things you have already made me a present of,\nand carried by the like number of black slaves, who shall be led by\nas many young and handsome well-made white slaves, all dressed\nmagnificently. On these conditions I am ready to bestow the princess\nmy daughter on him; therefore, good woman, go and tell him so, and I\nwill wait till you bring me his answer.\n\nAladdin\u2019s mother prostrated herself a second time before the\nsultan\u2019s throne, and retired. In her way home she laughed within\nherself at her son\u2019s foolish imagination. Where, said she, can he\nget so many such large gold basins, and enough of that coloured\nglass to fill them? Must he go again to that subterraneous abode,\nthe entrance into which is stopped up, and gather them off the\ntrees? But where will he get so many such slaves as the sultan\nrequires? It is altogether out of his power, and I believe he will\nnot be well satisfied with my embassy this time. When she came home,\nfull of these thoughts, she said to her son, Indeed, child, I would\nnot have you think any farther of your marriage with the princess\nBadroulboudour. The sultan received me very kindly, and I believe he\nwas well inclined to you; but if I am not very much deceived, the\ngrand vizier has made him change his mind, as you will guess from\nwhat I have to tell you. After I had represented to his majesty that\nthe three months were expired, and begged of him to remember his\npromise, I observed that he whispered with his grand vizier before\nhe gave me this answer. Then she gave her son an exact account of\nwhat the sultan said to her, and the conditions on which he\nconsented to the match. Afterwards she said to him, The sultan\nexpects your answer immediately; but continued she, laughing, I\nbelieve he may wait long enough.\n\nNot so long, mother, as you imagine, replied Aladdin; the sultan is\nmistaken if he thinks by this exorbitant demand to prevent my\nentertaining thoughts of the princess. I expected greater\ndifficulties, and that he would have set a higher price upon that\nincomparable princess. But I am very well pleased; his demand is but\na trifle to what I could have done for her. But while I think of\nsatisfying his request, go and get us something for dinner, and\nleave the rest to me.\n\nAs soon as Aladdin\u2019s mother was gone out to market, Aladdin took\nup the lamp, and rubbing it, the genie appeared, and offered his\nservice as usual. The sultan, said Aladdin to him, gives me the\nprincess his daughter in marriage: but demands first of me forty\nlarge basins of massy gold, brimfull of the fruits of the garden\nfrom whence I took this lamp you are slave to; and these he expects\nto have carried by as many black slaves, each preceded by a young\nhandsome well-made white slave, richly clothed. Go, and fetch me\nthis present as soon as possible, that I may send it to him before\nthe divan breaks up. The genie told him his command should be\nimmediately obeyed, and disappeared.\n\nIn a little time afterwards, the genie returned with forty black\nslaves, each bearing on his head a basin of massy gold of twenty\nmarks weight, full of pearls, diamonds, rubies, and emeralds, all\nlarger and more beautiful than those presented to the sultan before.\nEach basin was covered with a silver stuff, embroidered with flowers\nof gold: all these, and the white slaves, quite filled the house,\nwhich was but a small one, and the little court before it, and the\nlittle garden behind. The genie asked Aladdin if he had any other\ncommands? Aladdin telling him that he wanted nothing farther then,\nthe genie disappeared.\n\nWhen Aladdin\u2019s mother came from market, she was in a great\nsurprise to see so many people and such vast riches. As soon as she\nhad laid down her provisions, she was going to pull off her veil;\nbut Aladdin prevented her, and said, Mother, let us lose no time:\nbut before the sultan and the divan rise, I would have you return to\nthe palace, and go with this present, as the dowry he asked for the\nprincess Badroulboudour, that he may judge by my diligence and\nexactness of the ardent and sincere zeal I have to procure myself\nthe honour of this alliance. Without waiting for his mother\u2019s\nmaking a reply, Aladdin opened the street-door, and made the slaves\nwalk out; a white slave followed always by a black one with a basin\non his head. When they were all got out, the mother followed the\nlast black slave, and he shut the door, and then retired to his\nchamber, full of hopes that the sultan, after this present, which\nwas such as he required, would at length receive him as his\nson-in-law.\n\nThe first white slave that went out of the house made all the\npeople, who were going by and saw him, stop; and before they were\nall got out of the house, the street was crowded with spectators,\nwho ran to see so extraordinary and noble a sight. The dress of each\nslave was so rich, both for the stuff and the jewels, that those who\nwere dealers in them valued each at no less than a million of money;\nbesides the neatness and propriety of the dress, the good grace,\nnoble air, and delicate shape and proportion of each slave, was\nunparalleled; their grave walk at an equal distance from each other,\nthe lustre of the jewels, which were large, and curiously set in\ntheir girdles of massy gold, in beautiful symmetry, and those\nensigns of precious stones in their hats, which were of so\nparticular a taste, put the crowds of spectators into so great\nadmiration, that they could not be weary of gazing at them, and\nfollowing them with their eyes as far as possible; but the streets\nwere so crowded with people that none could move out of the spot\nthey stood on. As they were to pass through a great many streets to\ngo to the palace, a great part of the city had an opportunity of\nseeing them. As soon as the first of these slaves arrived at the\npalace-gate, the porters formed themselves into order, and took him\nfor a king, by the richness and magnificence of his habit, and were\ngoing to kiss the hem of his garment; but the slave, who was\ninstructed by the genie, prevented them, and said, We are only\nslaves; our master will appear at a proper time.\n\nThen this slave, followed by the rest, advanced into the second\ncourt, which was very spacious, and in which the sultan\u2019s\nhousehold was ranged during the sitting of the divan. The\nmagnificence of the officers, who stood at the head of their troops,\nwas very much eclipsed by the slaves who bore Aladdin\u2019s present,\nof which they themselves made a part. Nothing was ever seen so\nbeautiful and brilliant in the sultan\u2019s palace before; and all the\nlustre of the lords of his court was not to be compared to them.\n\nAs the sultan, who had been informed of their march, and coming to\nthe palace, had given orders for them to be admitted when they came,\nthey met with no obstacle, but went into the divan in good order,\none part filing to the right and the other to the left. After they\nwere all entered, and had formed a great semi-circle before the\nsultan\u2019s throne, the black slaves laid the basins on the carpet,\nand all prostrated themselves, touching the carpet with their\nforeheads, and at the same time the white slaves did the same. When\nthey all rose again, the black slaves uncovered the basins, and then\nall stood with their arms crossed over their breasts with great\nmodesty.\n\nIn the mean time Aladdin\u2019s mother advanced to the foot of the\nthrone, and having paid her respects, said to the sultan, Sir, my\nson Aladdin is sensible this present, which he has sent your\nmajesty, is much below the princess Badroulboudour\u2019s worth; but\nhopes, nevertheless, that your majesty will accept of it, and make\nit agreeable to the princess, with the greater confidence that he\nhas endeavoured to conform to the conditions you were pleased to\nimpose on him.\n\nThe sultan was not able to give the least attention to this\ncompliment of Aladdin\u2019s mother. The moment he cast his eyes on the\nforty basins, brim-full of the most precious, brilliant, and\nbeautiful jewels he had ever seen, and the fourscore slaves, who\nappeared, by the comeliness of their persons, and the richness and\nmagnificence of their dress, like so many kings, he was so struck,\nthat he could not recover from his admiration; but, instead of\nanswering the compliment of Aladdin\u2019s mother, addressed himself to\nthe grand vizier, who could not any more than the sultan comprehend\nfrom whence such a profusion of riches could come. Well, vizier,\nsaid he aloud, who do you think it can be that has sent me so\nextraordinary a present, and neither of us know? Do you think him\nworthy of the princess Badroulboudour, my daughter?\n\nThe vizier, notwithstanding his envy and grief to see a stranger\npreferred to be the sultan\u2019s son-in-law before his son, durst not\ndisguise his sentiments. It was too visible that Aladdin\u2019s present\nwas more than sufficient to merit his being received into that great\nalliance; therefore, adopting the sultan\u2019s sentiments, he returned\nthis answer: I am so far, sir, from having any thoughts that the\nperson who has made your majesty so noble a present is unworthy of\nthe honour you would do him, that I should be bold to say he\ndeserved much more, if I was not persuaded that the greatest\ntreasure in the world ought not to be put in a balance with the\nprincess, your majesty\u2019s daughter. This advice was applauded by\nall the lords who were then in council.\n\nThe sultan made no longer hesitation, nor thought of informing\nhimself whether Aladdin was endowed with all the qualifications\nrequisite in one who aspired to be his son-in-law. The sight alone\nof such immense riches, and Aladdin\u2019s diligence in satisfying his\ndemand, without starting the least difficulty on the exorbitant\nconditions he had imposed on him, easily persuaded him that he could\nwant nothing to render him accomplished, and such as he desired.\nTherefore, to send Aladdin\u2019s mother back with all the satisfaction\nshe could desire, he said to her, Good woman, go and tell your son\nthat I wait to receive him with open arms and embrace him; and the\nmore haste he makes to come and receive the princess my daughter\nfrom my hands, the greater pleasure he will do me.\n\nAs soon as Aladdin\u2019s mother retired, overjoyed as a woman in her\ncondition must be, to see her son raised beyond all expectations to\nsuch great fortune, the sultan put an end to the audience for that\nday; and, rising from his throne, ordered that the princess\u2019s\neunuchs should come and carry those basins into their mistress\u2019s\napartment, whither he went himself to examine them with her at his\nleisure. The fourscore slaves were not forgotten, but were conducted\ninto the palace; and some time after, the sultan, telling the\nprincess Badroulboudour of their magnificent appearance, ordered\nthem to be brought before her apartment, that she might see through\nthe lattices he exaggerated not in his account of them.\n\nIn the mean time, Aladdin\u2019s mother got home, and showed in her air\nand countenance the good news she brought her son. My son, said she\nto him, you have now all the reason in the world to be pleased: you\nare, contrary to my expectations, arrived at the height of your\ndesires, and you know what I always told you. Not to keep you too\nlong in suspense, the sultan, with the approbation of the whole\ncourt, has declared that you are worthy to possess the princess\nBadroulboudour, and waits to embrace you, and conclude your\nmarriage; therefore you must think of making some preparations for\nthat interview, that may answer the high opinion he has formed of\nyour person; and after the wonders I have seen you do, I am\npersuaded nothing can be wanting. But I must not forget to tell you,\nthe sultan waits for you with great impatience, therefore lose no\ntime to go to him.\n\nAladdin, charmed with this news, and full of the object which\npossessed his soul, made his mother very little reply, but retired\nto his chamber. There, after he had rubbed his lamp, which had never\nfailed him in whatever he wished for, the obedient genie appeared.\nGenie, said Aladdin, I want to bathe immediately; and you must\nafterwards provide me the richest and most magnificent habit ever\nworn by a monarch. No sooner were the words out of his mouth, but\nthe genie rendered him, as well as himself, invisible, and\ntransported him into a bath of the finest marble of all sorts of\ncolours; where he was undressed, without seeing by whom, in a neat\nand spacious hall. From the hall he was led to the bath, which was\nof a moderate heat, and he was there rubbed and washed with all\nsorts of scented water. After he had passed through several degrees\nof heat, he came out, quite a different man from what he was before.\nHis skin was clear, white, and red, and his body lightsome and free;\nand when he returned into the hall, he found, instead of his own, a\nsuit, the magnificence of which very much surprised him. The genie\nhelped him to dress, and when he had done, transported him back to\nhis own chamber, where he asked him if he had any other commands?\nYes, answered Aladdin; I expect you should bring me as soon as\npossible a horse, that surpasses in beauty and goodness the best in\nthe sultan\u2019s stables, with a saddle, bridle, and housing, and\nother accoutrements, worth a million of money. I want also twenty\nslaves, as richly clothed as those who carried the present to the\nsultan, to walk by my side, and follow me, and twenty more such to\ngo before me in two ranks. Besides these, bring my mother six women\nslaves to wait on her, as richly dressed at least as any of the\nprincess Badroulboudour\u2019s, each loaded with a complete suit fit\nfor any sultaness. I want also ten thousand pieces of gold in ten\npurses. Go, and make haste.\n\nAs soon as Aladdin had given these orders, the genie disappeared,\nand presently returned with the horse, the forty slaves, ten of whom\ncarried each a purse with one thousand pieces of gold, and six women\nslaves, each carrying on their head a different dress for\nAladdin\u2019s mother, wrapped up in a piece of silver stuff, and\npresented them all to Aladdin.\n\nOf the ten purses Aladdin took but four, which he gave to his\nmother, telling her those were to supply her with necessaries; the\nother six he left in the hands of the slaves who brought them, with\nan order to throw them by handfuls among the people as they went to\nthe sultan\u2019s palace. The six slaves who carried the purses he\nordered likewise to march before him, three on the right hand and\nthree on the left. Afterwards he presented the six women slaves to\nhis mother, telling her they were her slaves, and that the dresses\nthey had brought were for her use.\n\nWhen Aladdin had thus settled matters, he told the genie he would\ncall for him when he wanted him, and thereupon the genie\ndisappeared. Aladdin\u2019s thoughts now were only of answering, as\nsoon as possible, the desire the sultan had shown to see him. He\ndespatched one of the forty slaves to the palace, with an order to\naddress himself to the chief of the officers, to know, when he might\nhave the honour to come and throw himself at the sultan\u2019s feet.\nThe slave soon acquitted himself of his message, and brought for\nanswer that the sultan waited for him with impatience.\n\nAladdin immediately mounted his horse, and began his march in the\norder we have already described; and though he never was on a\nhorse\u2019s back before, he appeared with such extraordinary grace,\nthat the most experienced horsemen would not have taken him for a\nnovice. The streets through which he was to pass were almost\ninstantly filled with an innumerable concourse of people, who made\nthe air echo with their acclamations, especially every time the six\nslaves who carried the purses threw handfuls of gold into the air on\nboth sides. --Neither did these acclamations and shouts of joy come\nonly from those who scrambled for the money, but from a superior\nrank of people, who could not forbear applauding publicly\nAladdin\u2019s generosity. Not only those who knew him once when he\nplayed in the streets like a vagabond, did not know him again; those\nwho saw him but a little while before hardly knew him, so much were\nhis features altered: such were the effects of the lamp, as to\nprocure by degrees to those who possessed it, perfections agreeable\nto the rank the right use of it advanced them to. Much more\nattention was paid to Aladdin\u2019s person than to the pomp and\nmagnificence of his attendants, which had been taken notice of the\nday before, when the slaves walked in procession with the present to\nthe sultan. Nevertheless the horse was very much admired by good\njudges, who knew not how to discern his beauties, without being\ndazzled with the jewels and richness of the furniture: and when the\nreport was every where spread about, that the sultan was going to\ngive the princess Badroulboudour in marriage to him, nobody regarded\nhis birth, nor envied his good fortune, so worthy he seemed of it.\n\nWhen he arrived at the palace, every thing was prepared for his\nreception; and when he came to the second gate, he would have\nalighted from off his horse, agreeable to the custom observed by the\ngrand vizier, the generals of the armies, and governors of provinces\nof the first rank; but the chief of the officers, who waited on him\nby the sultan\u2019s order, prevented him, and attended him to the\ncouncil hall, where he helped him to dismount; though Aladdin\nopposed him very much, but could not prevail. The officers formed\nthemselves into two ranks at the entrance of the hall. The chief put\nAladdin on his right hand, and through the midst of them led him to\nthe sultan\u2019s throne.\n\nAs soon as the sultan perceived Aladdin, he was no less surprised to\nsee him more richly and magnificently clothed than ever he had been\nhimself, than surprised at his good mien, fine shape, and a certain\nair of unexpected grandeur, very different from the meanness his\nmother appeared in.\n\nBut notwithstanding, his amazement and surprise did not hinder him\nfrom rising off his throne, and descending two or three steps quick\nenough to prevent Aladdin\u2019s throwing himself at his feet. He\nembraced him with all the demonstrations of friendship. After this\ncivility, Aladdin would have cast himself at his feet again; but he\nheld him fast by the hand, and obliged him to sit between him and\nthe grand vizier.\n\nThen Aladdin, resuming the discourse, said, I receive, sir, the\nhonour which your majesty, out of your great goodness is pleased to\nconfer on me; but permit me to tell you, that I have not forgotten\nthat I am your slave; that I know the greatness of your power, and\nthat I am not insensible how much my birth is below the splendour\nand lustre of the high rank to which I am raised. If any way,\ncontinued he, I could have merited so favourable a reception, I\nconfess I owe it merely to the boldness which chance inspired me to\nraise my eyes, thoughts, and desires to the divine princess, who is\nthe object of my wishes. I ask your majesty\u2019s pardon for my\nrashness, but I cannot dissemble, that I should die with grief if I\nshould lose my hopes of seeing them accomplished.\n\nMy son, answered the sultan, embracing him a second time, you would\nwrong me to doubt for a moment of my sincerity: your life from this\nmoment is too dear to me not to preserve it, by presenting you with\nthe remedy which is at my disposal. I prefer the pleasure of seeing\nand hearing you before all your treasure added to mine.\n\nAfter these words the sultan gave a signal, and immediately the air\nechoed with the sound of trumpets and hautboys, and other musical\ninstruments: and at the same time the sultan led Aladdin into a\nmagnificent hall, where there was prepared a noble feast. The sultan\nand Aladdin eat by themselves, the grand vizier and the great lords\nof the court, according to their dignity and rank, waited all the\ntime. The conversation turned on different subjects; but all the\nwhile the sultan took so great a pleasure in seeing him, that he\nhardly ever took his eyes off him; and throughout all their\nconversation Aladdin showed so much good sense, as confirmed the\nsultan in the good opinion he had of him.\n\nAfter the feast, the sultan sent for the chief judge of his capital,\nand ordered him to draw up immediately a contract of marriage\nbetween the princess Badroulboudour his daughter, and Aladdin. In\nthe mean time the sultan and he entered into another conversation on\nvarious subjects, in the presence of the grand vizier and the lords\nof the court, who all admired the solidity of his wit, the great\nease and freedom wherewith he delivered himself, and the beautiful\nthoughts, and his delicacy in expressing them.\n\nWhen the judge had drawn up the contract in all the requisite forms,\nthe sultan asked Aladdin if he would stay in the palace, and\nsolemnize the ceremonies of marriage that day. To which he answered,\nSir, though great is my impatience to enjoy your majesty\u2019s\ngoodness, yet I beg of you to give me leave to defer it till I have\nbuilt a palace fit to receive the princess in; I therefore desire\nyou to grant me a convenient spot of ground near your palace, that I\nmay come the more frequently to pay my respects to you, and I will\ntake care to have it finished with all diligence. Son, said the\nsultan, take what ground you think proper; there is land enough\nbefore my palace; but consider, I cannot then see you so soon united\nwith my daughter, which would complete my joy. After these words he\nembraced Aladdin again, who took his leave with as much politeness\nas if he had been bred up and had always lived at court.\n\nAladdin mounted his horse again, and returned home in the same order\nhe came, with the acclamations of the people, who wished him all\nhappiness and prosperity. As soon as he dismounted, he retired to\nhis own chamber, took the lamp, and called the genie as before, who,\nin the usual manner, made him a tender of his service. Genie, said\nAladdin, I have all the reason in the world to commend your\nexactness in executing hitherto punctually whatever I have asked you\nto do; but now, if you have any regard for the lamp your mistress,\nyou must show, if possible, more zeal and diligence than ever. I\nwould have you build me, as soon as you can, a palace over against\nand at a proper distance from the sultan\u2019s, fit to receive my\nspouse the princess Badroulboudour. I leave the choice of the\nmaterials to you, that is to say, porphyry, jasper, agate, lapis\nlazuli, and the finest marble of the most varied colours, and of the\nrest of the building. But I expect, that in the highest story of\nthis palace you shall build me a large hall with a dome, and four\nequal fronts; and that, instead of layers of bricks, the walls be\nmade of massy gold and silver, laid alternately; that each front\nshall contain six windows, the lattices of all which, except one,\nwhich must be left unfinished and imperfect, shall be so enriched\nwith art and symmetry, with diamonds, rubies, and emeralds, that\nthey shall exceed every thing of the kind that has ever been seen in\nthe world. I would have an inner and outer court before this palace,\nand a curious garden; but above all things take care that there be\nlaid in a place which you shall point out to me, a treasure of gold\nand silver coin. Besides, this palace must be well provided with\nkitchens, and offices, store-houses, and rooms to keep choice\nfurniture in, for every season of the year. I must have stables full\nof the finest horses, with their equerries and grooms, and hunting\nequipage. There must be officers to attend the kitchens and offices,\nand women slaves to wait on the princess. You understand what I\nmean; therefore go about it, and come and tell me when all is\nfinished.\n\nBy the time Aladdin had instructed the genie with his intentions\nrespecting the building of his palace, the sun was set. The next\nmorning by break of day, Aladdin, whose love for the princess would\nnot let him sleep, was no sooner up, but the genie presented\nhimself, and said, Sir, your palace is finished; come and see bow\nyou like it. Aladdin had no sooner signified his consent, but the\ngenie transported him thither in an instant, and he found it so much\nbeyond his expectation, that he could not enough admire it. The\ngenie led him through all the apartments, where he met with nothing\nbut what was rich and magnificent, with officers and slaves, all\ndressed according to their rank and the services to which they were\nappointed. Then the genie showed him the treasury, which was opened\nby a treasurer, where Aladdin saw heaps of purses, of different\nsizes, piled up to the top of the ceiling, and disposed in most\npleasing order. The genie assured him of the treasurer\u2019s fidelity,\nand thence led him to the stables, where he showed him some of the\nfinest horses in the world, and the grooms busy in dressing them;\nfrom thence they went to the store-houses, which were filled with\nall necessary provisions, both for the food and ornament of the\nhorses.\n\nWhen Aladdin had examined the palace from top to bottom, and\nparticularly the hall with the four-and-twenty windows, and found it\nmuch beyond whatever he could have imagined, he said to the genie,\nGenie, no one can be better satisfied than I am; and indeed I should\nbe very much to blame if I found any fault. There is only one thing\nwanting, which I forgot to mention; that is, to lay from the\nsultan\u2019s palace to the door of the apartment, designed for the\nprincess, a carpet of fine velvet for her to walk upon. The genie\nimmediately disappeared, and Aladdin saw what he desired executed\nthat minute. Then the genie returned and carried Aladdin home,\nbefore the gates of the sultan\u2019s palace were opened.\n\nWhen the porters, who had always been used to an open prospect, came\nto open the gates, they were amazed to find it obstructed, and to\nsee a carpet of velvet spread for a great way. They did not\nimmediately see what it meant; but when they could discern\nAladdin\u2019s palace distinctly, their surprise was increased. The\nnews of so extraordinary a wonder was presently spread through the\npalace. The grand vizier, who came soon after the gates were open,\nwas no less amazed than other people at this novelty, but ran and\nacquainted the sultan, and endeavoured to make him believe it to be\nall enchantment. Vizier, replied the sultan, why will you have it to\nbe enchantment? You know, as well as I, that it is Aladdin\u2019s\npalace, which I gave him leave to build, to receive my daughter in.\nAfter the proof we have had of his riches, can we think it strange\nthat he should build a palace in so short a time? He has a mind to\nsurprise us, and let us see what wonders are to be done with ready\nmoney every day. Confess sincerely with me that that enchantment you\ntalk of proceeds from a little envy. The hour of going to council\nput an end to the conversation.\n\nWhen Aladdin had been conveyed home, and had dismissed the genie, he\nfound his mother up, and dressing herself in one of those suits that\nwere brought her. By the time the sultan came from the council,\nAladdin had prepared his mother to go to the palace with her slaves,\nand desired her, if she saw the sultan, to tell him she came to do\nherself the honour to attend the princess towards evening to her\npalace. Accordingly she went; but though she and the women slaves\nwho followed her were all dressed like sultanesses, yet the crowd\nwas nothing near so great, because they were all veiled, and had\neach an upper garment on, agreeable to the richness and magnificence\nof their habits. As for Aladdin, he mounted his horse, and took\nleave of his paternal house for ever, taking care not to forget his\nwonderful lamp, by the assistance of which he had reaped such\nadvantages, and arrived at the utmost height of his wishes and went\nto the palace in the same pomp as the day before.\n\nAs soon as the porters of the sultan\u2019s palace saw Aladdin\u2019s\nmother, they went and informed the sultan, who presently ordered the\nbands of trumpets, cymbals, drums, fifes, and hautboys, placed in\ndifferent parts of the palace, to play and beat, so that the air\nresounded with concerts, which inspired the whole city with joy: the\nmerchants began to adorn their shops and houses with fine carpets\nand cushions, and bedeck them with boughs, and prepare illuminations\nagainst night. The artists of all sorts left their work, and the\npeople all repaired to the great space between the sultan\u2019s and\nAladdin\u2019s palace; which last drew all their attention, not only\nbecause it was new to them, but because there was no comparison\nbetween the two buildings. But their amazement was, to comprehend by\nwhat unheard-of miracle, so magnificent a palace should be so soon\nbuilt, it being apparent to all that there were no prepared\nmaterials, or any foundations laid, the day before.\n\nAladdin\u2019s mother was received in the palace with honour, and\nintroduced into the princess Badroulboudour\u2019s apartment, by the\nchief of the eunuchs. As soon as the princess saw her, she went and\nsaluted her, and desired her to sit down on her sofa; and while her\nwomen made an end of dressing her, and adorned her with the jewels\nAladdin had presented her with, a noble collation was served up. At\nthe same time the sultan, who had a mind to be as much with his\ndaughter as possible before he parted with her, came and paid her\ngreat respect. Aladdin\u2019s mother had often talked to the sultan, in\npublic, but he had never seen her with her veil off, as she was\nthen; and though she was somewhat advanced in years, she had the\nremains of a good face, which showed what she had been in her youth.\nThe sultan, who had always seen her dressed very meanly, not to say\npoorly, was surprised to find her as richly and magnificently\nclothed as the princess his daughter. This made him think Aladdin\nequally prudent and wise in whatever he undertook.\n\nWhen it was night, the princess took her leave of the sultan her\nfather; their adieus were tender, and accompanied with tears. They\nembraced each other several times, and at last the princess left her\nown apartment, and set forward for Aladdin\u2019s palace, with his\nmother on her left hand, followed by a hundred women slaves, dressed\nwith surprising magnificence. All the bands of music, which played\nfrom the time Aladdin\u2019s mother arrived, joined together, led the\nprocession, followed by a hundred chiaoux, and the like number of\nblack eunuchs, in two files, with their officers at their head. Four\nhundred of the sultan\u2019s young pages carried flambeaux on each\nside, which, together with the illuminations of the sultan\u2019s and\nAladdin\u2019s palaces, made it as light as day.\n\nIn this order the princess walked on the carpet, which was spread\nfrom the sultan\u2019s palace to Aladdin\u2019s, preceded by bands of\nmusicians, who, as they advanced, joining with those on the terraces\nof Aladdin\u2019s palace, formed a concert, which, extraordinary and\nconfused as it appeared, increased the joy not only of the crowd\nassembled in the great square, but of all that were in the two\npalaces, the town, and a great way round about it.\n\nAt length the princess arrived at the new palace. Aladdin ran with\nall imaginable joy to receive her at the entrance of the apartment\nappointed for him. His mother had taken care to point him out to the\nprincess, in the midst of the officers that surrounded him, and she\nwas charmed with his person as soon as she saw him. Adorable\nprincess, said Aladdin to her, accosting her, and saluting her\nrespectfully, if I have the misfortune to have displeased you by my\nboldness in aspiring to the possession of so lovely a princess, and\nmy sultan\u2019s daughter, I must tell you, that you ought to blame\nyour bright eyes and charms, not me. Prince, (as I may now call\nyou,) answered the princess, I am obedient to the will of my father;\nand it is enough for me to have seen you, to tell you that I obey\nwithout reluctance.\n\nAladdin, charmed with so agreeable and satisfactory an answer, would\nnot keep the princess standing after she had walked so far, which\nwas more than she was used to do; but took her by the hand, which he\nkissed with the greatest demonstrations of joy, and led her into a\nlarge hall, illuminated with an infinite number of wax candles,\nwhere, by the care of the genie, a noble feast was served up. The\nplates were of massy gold, and contained the most delicate meats.\nThe vases, basins, and goblets, with which the beaufet was\nfurnished, were gold also, and of exquisite workmanship, and all the\nother ornaments and embellishments of the hall were answerable to\nthis great wealth. The princess, dazzled to see so much riches\ncollected in one place, said to Aladdin, I thought, prince, that\nnothing in the world was so beautiful as the sultan my father\u2019s\npalace; but the sight of this hall alone is sufficient to show I was\ndeceived.\n\nThen Aladdin led the princess to the place appointed for her, and as\nsoon as she and his mother were sat down, a band of the most\nharmonious instruments, accompanied with the voices of beautiful\nladies, began a concert, which lasted without intermission to the\nend of the repast. The princess was so charmed, that she declared\nshe never heard any thing like it in the sultan her father\u2019s\ncourt; but she knew not that these musicians were fairies chosen by\nthe genie, slave of the lamp.\n\nWhen the supper was ended, and the table taken away, there entered a\ncompany of dancers, who danced according to the custom of the\ncountry, several figure dances, ending with a dancing man and woman,\nwho performed their parts with surprising lightness and agility, and\nshowed all the address they were capable of. About midnight,\nAladdin, according to the custom of that time in China, rose up and\npresented his hand to the princess Badroulboudour to dance with her,\nand to finish the ceremonies of their nuptials. They danced with so\ngood a grace, that they were the admiration of all the company. When\nthey left off, Aladdin did not let the princess\u2019s hand go, but led\nher to the apartment where the nuptial bed was prepared. The\nprincess\u2019s women helped to undress her, and put her to bed;\nAladdin\u2019s officers did the same by him, and then all retired. Thus\nended the ceremonies and rejoicings at the marriage of Aladdin with\nthe princess Badroulboudour.\n\nThe next morning when Aladdin awaked, his valets-de-chambre\npresented themselves to dress him, and brought him another habit as\nrich and magnificent as that he wore the day before. Then he ordered\none of the horses appointed for his use to be got ready, mounted\nhim, and went in the midst of a large troop of slaves to the\nsultan\u2019s palace. The sultan received him with the same honours as\nbefore, embraced him, placed him on the throne near him, and ordered\nin breakfast. Aladdin replied, I beg your majesty will dispense with\nme from accepting that honour to-day; I came to ask you to come and\ntake a repast in the princess\u2019s palace, attended by your grand\nvizier, and all the lords of your court. The sultan consented with\npleasure, rose up immediately, and as it was not far off, went\nthither on foot, with Aladdin on his right hand, the grand vizier on\nhis left, preceded by the chiaoux and principal officers of his\npalace, and followed by all the great lords of his court.\n\nThe nearer the sultan approached Aladdin\u2019s palace, the more he was\nstruck with its beauty, but was much more amazed when he entered it;\nand could not forbear breaking out into exclamations of approbation.\nBut when he came into the hall with the four-and-twenty windows,\ninto which Aladdin had invited him, and had seen the ornaments, and,\nabove all, cast his eyes on the windows, enriched with diamonds,\nrubies, emeralds, all large perfect stones; and when Aladdin had\nobserved to him, that it was as rich on the outside, he was so much\nsurprised, that he remained some time motionless. After he recovered\nhimself, he said to his vizier, Is it possible that there should be\nsuch a stately palace so nigh my own, and I be an utter stranger to\nit till now? Sir, replied the grand vizier, your majesty may\nremember that the day before yesterday you gave Aladdin, whom you\naccepted for your son-in-law, leave to build a palace over against\nyour own, and that very day at sun-set there was no palace on this\nspot, and yesterday I had the honour first to tell you that the\npalace was built and finished. I remember it, replied the sultan,\nbut never imagined that the palace was one of the wonders of the\nworld; for where in all the world besides shall we find walls built\nof courses of massy gold and silver, instead of courses of brick,\nstone, or marble; and diamonds, rubies, and emeralds, set thick\nabout the windows! There never was any thing mentioned like it in\nthis world before.\n\nThe sultan would examine and admire the beauty of all the windows,\nand counting them, found that there were but three-and-twenty\nwindows that were so richly adorned, and he was greatly astonished\nthat the twenty-fourth was left imperfect. Vizier, said he, for that\nminister made a point of never leaving him, I am surprised that a\nhall of this magnificence should be left thus imperfect. Sir,\nreplied the grand vizier, without doubt Aladdin only wanted time to\nfinish this window like the rest; for it is not to be supposed but\nthat he has sufficient jewels for it, and that he will set about it\nthe first opportunity.\n\nAladdin, who had left the sultan to go and give some orders,\nreturned just as the vizier had given that prince his supposed\nreasons. Son, said the sultan to him, this hall is the most worthy\nof admiration of any hall in the world: there is only one thing that\nsurprises me, which is, to find one of the windows unfinished. Is it\nfrom the forgetfulness or negligence of the workmen, or want of\ntime, that they have not put the finishing stroke to so beautiful a\npiece of architecture? Sir, answered Aladdin, it was for none of\nthere reasons that your majesty sees it in this condition. The thing\nwas done by design, and it was by my orders that the workmen left it\nthus, since I had a mind that your majesty should have the glory of\nfinishing this hall, and the palace also together, and I beg of you\nto approve of my good intention, that I may remember the favours I\nhave received from you. If you did it with this intention, replied\nthe sultan, I take it kindly, and will give orders about it\nimmediately. He accordingly sent for the most considerable jewellers\nand goldsmiths in his capital.\n\nIn the mean time the sultan went out of this hall, and Aladdin led\nhim into that where he had regaled the princess Badroulboudour on\ntheir wedding day. The princess came immediately afterwards, and\nreceived the sultan her father, with an air that showed how much she\nwas satisfied with her marriage. Two tables were immediately spread\nwith the most delicious meats, all served up in gold dishes. The\nsultan, princess, Aladdin, and the grand vizier, sat down at the\nfirst, and all the lords of the court at the second, which was very\nlong. The sultan was very much pleased with the meats, and owned he\nhad never eaten any thing more excellent. He said the same of the\nwines, which were delicious; but what he most of all admired were\nfour large beaufets, profusely furnished with large flagons, basins,\nand cups, all of massy gold, set with jewels. He was besides charmed\nwith several bands of music, which were ranged along the hall, and\nformed most agreeable concerts.\n\nWhen the sultan rose from table, he was informed that the jewellers\nand goldsmiths he had sent for attended; upon which he returned to\nthe hall, and showed them the window which was unfinished: I sent\nfor you, said he, to fit up this window in as great perfection as\nthe rest; examine them well, and make all the despatch you can to\nmake them all alike.\n\nThe jewellers and goldsmiths examined the other three-and-twenty\nwindows with great attention, and after they had consulted together,\nto know what each could furnish, they returned, and presented\nthemselves before the sultan, whose principal jeweller, undertaking\nto speak for the rest, said, Sir, we are all willing to exert our\nutmost care and industry to obey your majesty; but among us all we\ncannot furnish jewels enough for so great a work. I have more than\nare necessary, said the sultan; come to my palace, and you shall\nchoose what are fitting.\n\nWhen the sultan returned to his palace, he ordered his jewels to be\nfetched out, and the jewellers took a great quantity, particularly\nthose which Aladdin had made him a present of, which they soon used,\nwithout making any great advance in their work. They came again\nseveral times for more, and in a month\u2019s time had not finished\nhalf their work. In short, they used all the jewels the sultan had\nof his own, and borrowed of the vizier, and yet the work was not\nhalf done.\n\nAladdin, who knew that all the sultan\u2019s endeavours to make his\nwindow like the rest were in vain, and that he never could compass\nit with credit, sent for the jewellers and goldsmiths, and not only\nbid them desist from their work, but ordered them to undo what they\nhad begun, and to carry all their jewels back to the sultan and to\nthe vizier. They undid in a few hours what they had been six weeks\nabout, and retired, leaving Aladdin alone in the hall. He took the\nlamp which he carried about him, and rubbed it, and presently the\ngenie appeared. Genie, said Aladdin, I ordered thee to leave one of\nthe four-and-twenty windows of this hall imperfect, and thou hast\nexecuted my commands punctually; now I would have thee make it like\nthe rest. The genie immediately disappeared. Aladdin went out of the\nhall, and returning soon after into it, he found the window, as he\nwished it to be, like the others.\n\nIn the mean time the jewellers and goldsmiths reached the palace,\nand were introduced into the sultan\u2019s presence; where the first\njeweller presenting the jewels which he had brought back, said in\nthe name of all the rest, Sir, your majesty knows how long we have\nbeen upon the work you was pleased to set us about, in which we used\nall imaginable industry. It was far advanced, when Aladdin obliged\nus not only to leave off, but to undo what we had already begun, and\nbring your majesty your jewels back. The sultan asked them if\nAladdin gave them any reason for so doing, and they answering that\nhe had given them none, he ordered a horse to be brought to him\npresently, which he mounted, and rode to Aladdin\u2019s palace with\nsome few attendants on foot by his side. When he came there, he\nalighted at the staircase, which led up to the hall with the\ntwenty-four windows, and went directly up to it, without giving\nprevious notice to Aladdin; but it happened that at that very\njuncture Aladdin was opportunely there, and had just time to receive\nhim at the door.\n\nThe sultan, without giving Aladdin time to complain obligingly of\nhis not giving him notice, that he might have acquitted himself with\nthe more duty and respect, said to him, Son, I come myself to know\nthe reason why you left so noble and magnificent a hall as this is\nimperfect.\n\nAladdin disguised the true reason, which was, that the sultan was\nnot rich enough in jewels to be at so great an expense, but said, It\nis true your majesty saw this hall unfinished, but I beg of you now\nto see if anything is wanting.\n\nThe sultan went directly to the window which was left imperfect, and\nwhen he found it like the rest, he fancied that he was mistaken, and\nexamined the two windows on each side, and afterwards all the\nfour-and-twenty; and when he was convinced that the window, which\nseveral workmen had been so long about, was finished in so short a\ntime, he embraced Aladdin, and kissed him between his eyes. My son,\nsaid he, what a man you are to do such surprising things always in\nthe twinkling of an eye! there is not your fellow in the world: the\nmore I know you, the more I admire you.\n\nAladdin received these praises from the sultan with a great deal of\nmodesty, and replied in these words: Sir, it is a great honour to me\nto deserve your majesty\u2019s good-will and approbation, and I assure\nyou I shall study to deserve them more.\n\nThe sultan returned to his palace as he came, but would not let\nAladdin go back with him. When he came there, he found his grand\nvizier waiting for him, to whom he related the wonder he had been a\nwitness of with the utmost admiration, and in such terms as left\nthat minister no room to doubt but that the fact was as the sultan\nrelated it; though he was the more confirmed in his belief that\nAladdin\u2019s palace was the effect of enchantment, as he told the\nsultan the first moment he saw it. He was going to repeat the same\nthing again, but the sultan interrupted him, and said, You told me\nso once before; I see, vizier, you have not forgot your son\u2019s\nmarriage to my daughter. The grand vizier plainly saw how much the\nsultan was prepossessed, and therefore avoided any disputes, and let\nhim remain in his own opinion. The sultan, as certain as he rose in\na morning, went into the closet to look at Aladdin\u2019s palace, and\nwould go many times in a day to contemplate and admire it.\n\nAll this time Aladdin did not confine himself in his palace, but\ntook care to show himself once or twice a week in the town, by going\nsometimes to one mosque, and sometimes to another, to prayers, or to\npay a visit to the grand vizier, who affected to pay his court to\nhim on certain days, or to do the principal lords of the court the\nhonour to return their visits, after he had regaled them at his\npalace. Every time he went out he caused two slaves, who walked by\nthe side of his horse, to throw handfuls of money among the people\nas he passed through the streets and squares, which were generally\non those occasions crowded. Besides, no one came to his palace gates\nto ask alms, but returned satisfied with his liberality. In short,\nhe so divided his time, that not a week passed but Aladdin went\neither once or twice a hunting, sometimes in the environs of the\ncity, sometimes farther off; at which time the villages through\nwhich he passed felt the effects of his generosity, which gained him\nthe love and blessings of the people; and it was common for them to\nswear by his head. In short, without giving the least umbrage to the\nsultan, to whom he paid all imaginable respect, it might be said\nthat Aladdin, by his affable behaviour and liberality, had won the\naffections of the people, and was more beloved than the sultan\nhimself. With all these good qualities, he showed a courage and a\nzeal for the public good which could not be sufficiently applauded.\nHe gave sufficient proofs of both in a revolt on the borders of that\nkingdom: for he no sooner understood that the sultan was levying an\narmy to disperse the rebels, but he begged the command of it, which\nhe found no difficulty to obtain. As soon as he was at the head of\nthe army, he marched against the rebels with so much expedition,\nthat the sultan heard of the defeat of the rebels before he had\nreceived an account of his arrival in the army. And though this\naction rendered his name famous throughout the kingdom, it made no\nalteration in his disposition, but he was as affable after his\nvictory as before.\n\nAladdin had behaved himself after this manner several years, when\nthe African magician, who undesignedly had been the instrument of\nraising him to so high a pitch of fortune, bethought himself of him\nin Africa, whither, after his expedition, he returned; and though he\nwas almost persuaded that Aladdin died miserably in the\nsubterraneous abode where he left him, yet he had the curiosity to\ninform himself about his end with certainty; and as he was a great\ngeomancer, he took out of a cupboard a square covered box, which he\nmade use of in his geomantic observations, then sat himself down on\nhis sofa, set it before him, and uncovered it. After he had prepared\nand levelled the sand which was in it, with an intention to discover\nwhether or no Aladdin died in the subterraneous abode, he cast the\npoints, drew the figures, and formed a horoscope, by which, when he\ncame to examine it, he found that Aladdin, instead of dying in the\ncave, had escaped out of it, lived splendidly, was very rich, had\nmarried a princess, and was very much honoured and respected.\n\nThe magician no sooner understood by the rules of his diabolical art\nthat Aladdin had arrived to that height of good fortune, but a\ncolour came into his face, and he cried out in a rage. This poor\nsorry tailor\u2019s son has discovered the secret and virtue of the\nlamp! I believed his death to be certain, but find too plainly he\nenjoys the fruit of my labour and study. But I will prevent his\nenjoying it long, or perish in the attempt. He was not a great while\ndeliberating on what he should do, but the next morning mounted a\nbarb which was in his stable, set forwards, and never stopped but\njust to refresh himself and horse, till he arrived at the capital of\nChina. He alighted, took up his lodging in a khan, and staid there\nthe remainder of the day and the night, to refresh himself after so\nlong a journey.\n\nThe next day his first object was to inquire what people said of\nAladdin; and, taking a walk through the town, he went to the most\npublic and frequented places, where people of the first distinction\nmet to drink a certain warm liquor, which he had drank often when he\nwas there before. As soon as he sat down, he was presented with a\nglass of it, which he took; but, listening at the same time to the\ndiscourse of the company on each side of him, he heard them talking\nof Aladdin\u2019s palace. When he had drank off his glass, he joined\nthem; and taking this opportunity, asked them particularly what\npalace that was they spoke so advantageously of. From whence come\nyou? said the person to whom he addressed himself: you must\ncertainly be a stranger, not to have seen or heard talk of prince\nAladdin\u2019s palace, (for he was called so after his marriage with\nthe princess Badroulboudour.) I do not say, continued the man, that\nit is one of the wonders of the world, but that it is the only\nwonder of the world, since nothing so grand, rich, and magnificent,\nwas ever seen. Certainly you must have come from a great distance\nnot to have heard of it; it must have been talked of all over the\nworld. Go and see it, and then judge whether I have told you more\nthan the truth. Forgive my ignorance, replied the African magician;\nI arrived here but yesterday, and came from the farthest part of\nAfrica, where the fame of this palace had not reached when I came\naway. For the affair which brought me hither was so urgent, that my\nsole object was to get here as soon as I could, without stopping any\nwhere, or making any acquaintance. But I will not fail to go and see\nit; my impatience is so great, I will go immediately and satisfy my\ncuriosity, if you will do me the favour to show me the way thither.\n\nThe person to whom the African magician addressed himself, took a\npleasure in showing him the way to Aladdin\u2019s palace, and he got up\nand went thither instantly. When he came to the palace, and had\nexamined it on all sides, he doubted not but that Aladdin had made\nuse of the lamp to build it. Without attending to the inability of\nAladdin, a poor tailor\u2019s son, he knew that none but the genies,\nthe slaves of the lamp, the attaining of which he had missed, could\nhave performed such wonders; and, piqued to the quick at Aladdin\u2019s\nhappiness and greatness, he returned to the khan where he lodged.\n\nThe next thing was to know where the lamp was; if Aladdin carried it\nabout with him, or where he kept it; and this he was to discover by\nan operation of geomancy. As soon as he entered his lodging, he took\nhis square box of sand, which he always carried with him when he\ntravelled, and after he had performed some operations, he knew that\nthe lamp was in Aladdin\u2019s palace; and so great was his joy at the\ndiscovery, that he could hardly contain himself. Well, said he, I\nshall have the lamp, and I defy Aladdin\u2019s preventing my carrying\nit off, and making him sink to his original meanness, from which he\nhas taken so high a flight.\n\nIt was Aladdin\u2019s misfortune at that time to be gone a hunting for\neight days, of which only three were expired, which the magician\ncame to know by this means. After he had performed this operation,\nwhich gave him so much joy, he went to the master of the khan,\nentered into discourse with him on indifferent matters, and among\nthe rest, told him he had been to see Aladdin\u2019s palace; and after\nexaggerating on all that he had seen most surprising and most\nstriking to him and all the world, he added, But my curiosity leads\nme farther, and I shall not be easy till I have seen the person to\nwhom this wonderful edifice belongs. That will be no difficult\nmatter, replied the master of the khan; there is not a day passes\nbut he gives an opportunity when he is in town, but at present he is\nnot at home, and has been gone these three days on a hunting match,\nwhich will last eight.\n\nThe magician wanted to know no more: he took his leave of the master\nof the khan, and returning to his own chamber, said to himself, This\nis an opportunity I ought by no means to let slip, but will make the\nbest use of it. To that end he went to a maker and seller of lamps,\nand asked for a dozen of copper lamps. The master of the shop told\nhim he had not so many by him, but if he would have patience till\nthe next day, he would get him so many against any time he had a\nmind to have them. The magician appointed his time, and bid him take\ncare that they should be handsome and well polished. After promising\nto pay him well, he returned to his inn.\n\nThe next day the magician called for his twelve lamps, paid the man\nhis full price for them, put them in a basket which he brought on\npurpose, and with the basket hanging on his arm, went directly to\nAladdin\u2019s palace; and when he came near it, he began crying. Who\nwill change old lamps for new ones? As he went along, he gathered a\ncrowd of children about him, who hooted at him, and thought him, as\ndid all who chanced to be passing by, mad or a fool, to offer to\nchange new lamps for old ones.\n\nThe African magician never minded all their scoffs and hootings, or\nall they could say to him, but still continued crying, Who will\nchange old lamps for new ones? He repeated this so often, walking\nbackwards and forwards about the princess Badroulboudour\u2019s palace,\nthat the princess, who was then in the hall with the four-and-twenty\nwindows, hearing a man cry something, and not being able to\ndistinguish his words, by reason of the hooting of the children and\nincreasing mob about him, sent one of her women slaves down to know\nwhat he cried.\n\nThe slave was not long before she returned, and ran into the hall,\nlaughing so heartily, that the princess could not forbear herself.\nWell, gigler, said the princess, will you tell me what you laugh at?\nMadam, answered the slave, laughing still, who can forbear laughing\nto see a fool, with a basket on his arm, full of fine new lamps, ask\nto change them for old ones? the children and mob, crowding about\nhim so that he can hardly stir, make all the noise they can by\nderiding him.\n\nAnother woman slave nearing this, said, Now you speak of lamps, I\nknow not whether the princess may have observed it, but there is an\nold one upon the cornice, and whoever owns it will not be sorry to\nfind a new one in its stead. If the princess has a mind, she may\nhave the pleasure to try if this fool is so silly as to give a new\nlamp for an old one, without taking any thing for the exchange.\n\nThe lamp this slave spoke of was Aladdin\u2019s wonderful lamp, which\nhe, for fear of losing it, had laid upon the cornice before he went\nhunting; which precaution he made use of several times before, but\nneither the princess, the slaves, nor the eunuchs, had ever taken\nnotice of it. At all other times but hunting he carried it about\nhim, and then, indeed, he might have locked it up; but other people\nhave been guilty of as great oversights, and will be so to the end\nof time.\n\nThe princess Badroulboudour, who knew not the value of this lamp,\nand the interest that Aladdin, not to mention herself, had to keep\nit safe from every body else, entered into the pleasantry, and bid\nan eunuch take it, and go and make the exchange. The eunuch obeyed,\nwent out of the hall, and no sooner got to the palace gates, but he\nsaw the African magician, called to him, and showing him the old\nlamp, said to him, Give me a new lamp for this.\n\nThe magician never doubted but this was the lamp he wanted. There\ncould be no other such in this palace, where all was gold or silver.\nHe snatched it eagerly out of the eunuch\u2019s hand, and, thrusting it\nas far as he could into his breast, offered him his basket, and bid\nhim choose which he liked best. The eunuch picked out one, and\ncarried it to the princess Badroulboudour; but the exchange was no\nsooner made, than the palace rung with the shouts of the children,\nderiding the magician\u2019s folly.\n\nThe African magician gave every body leave to laugh as much as they\npleased; he stayed not long about Aladdin\u2019s palace, but made the\nbest of his way, without crying any longer, New lamps for old ones.\nHis end was answered, and by his silence he got rid of the children\nand the mob.\n\nAs soon as he got out of the square between the two palaces, he\nskulked down the streets which were the least frequented; and having\nno more occasion for his lamps or basket, set all down in the midst\nof a street where nobody saw him; then scouring down another street\nor two, he walked till he came to one of the city gates, and\npursuing his way through the suburbs, which were very long, he\nbought some provisions before he left the city, got into the fields,\nand turned into a road, which led to a lonely remote place, where he\nstopped for a time to execute the design he came about, never caring\nfor his horse, which he left at the khan, but thinking himself\nperfectly compensated by the treasure he had acquired.\n\nIn this place the African magician passed the remainder of the day,\ntill the darkest time of night, when he pulled the lamp out of his\nbreast, and rubbed it. At that summons the genie appeared, and said,\nWhat wouldst thou have? I am ready to obey thee as thy slave, and\nthe slave of all those who have that lamp in their hands; both I and\nthe other slaves of the lamp. I command thee, replied the magician,\nto transport me immediately, and the palace which thou and the other\nslaves of the lamp have built in this town, such as it is, and with\nall the people in it, to such a place in Africa. The genie made no\nreply, but, with the assistance of the other genies, the slaves of\nthe lamp, transported him and the palace entire immediately to the\nplace he appointed in Africa; where we will leave the magician,\npalace, and the princess Badroulboudour, to speak of the surprise of\nthe sultan.\n\nAs soon as the sultan rose the next morning, according to custom, he\nwent into his closet to have the pleasure of contemplating and\nadmiring Aladdin\u2019s palace; but when he first looked that way, and,\ninstead of a palace, saw an empty space such as it was before the\npalace was built, he thought he was mistaken, and rubbed his eyes:\nhe looked again, and saw nothing more the second time than the\nfirst, though the weather was fine, the sky clear, and the daybreak\nbeginning to appear, had made all objects very distinct. He looked\nthrough the two openings on the right and left, and saw nothing more\nthan he had formerly been used to see out of them. His amazement was\nso great, that he stood for some time turning his eyes to the spot\nwhere the palace had stood, but where it was no longer to be seen.\nHe could not comprehend how so large a palace as Aladdin\u2019s, which\nhe saw plainly every day, and but the day before, should vanish so\nsoon, and not leave the least remains behind. Certainly, said he to\nhimself, I am not mistaken; it stood there: if it had tumbled down,\nthe materials would have lain in heaps; and if it had been swallowed\nup by an earthquake, there would be some mark left. Whatever was the\ncase, though he was convinced that no palace stood there, he could\nnot help staying there some time, to see whether he might not be\nmistaken. At last he retired to his apartment, not without looking\nbehind him before he quitted the spot, and ordered the grand vizier\nto be fetched in all haste; and, in the mean time, sat down, his\nmind agitated by so many different thoughts, that he knew not what\nto resolve on.\n\nThe grand vizier did not make the sultan wait long for him, but came\nwith so much precipitation, that neither he nor his attendants, as\nthey passed by, missed Aladdin\u2019s palace; neither did the porters,\nwhen they opened the palace gates, observe any alteration.\n\nWhen he came into the sultan\u2019s presence, he said to him, Sir, the\nhaste in which your majesty sent for me makes me believe something\nvery extraordinary has happened, since you know this is council-day,\nand I shall not fail attending you there very soon. Indeed, said the\nsultan, it is something very extraordinary, as you say, and you will\nallow it to be so: tell me what has become of Aladdin\u2019s palace.\nAladdin\u2019s palace! replied the grand vizier, in great amazement; I\nthought, as I passed by it, it stood in its usual place: such\nsubstantial buildings are not so easily removed. Go into my closet,\nsaid the sultan, and tell me if you can see it.\n\nThe grand vizier went into the closet, where he was struck with no\nless amazement than the sultan had been. When he was well assured\nthat there was not the least appearance of this palace, he returned\nto the sultan. Well, said the sultan, have you seen Aladdin\u2019s\npalace? Sir, answered the vizier, your majesty may remember that I\nhad the honour to tell you, that that palace, which was the subject\nof your admiration, with all its immense riches, was only the work\nof magic and a magician; but your majesty would not pay the least\nattention to what I said.\n\nThe sultan, who could not deny what the grand vizier had represented\nto him, flew into the greater passion. Where is that impostor, that\nwicked wretch, said he, that I may have his head cut off\nimmediately? Sir, replied the grand vizier, it is some days since he\ncame to take his leave of your majesty; he ought to be sent to, to\nknow what is become of his palace, since he cannot be ignorant of\nwhat has been transacted. That is too great an indulgence, replied\nthe sultan; go and order a detachment of thirty horse, to bring him\nto me loaded with chains. The grand vizier went and gave orders for\na detachment of thirty horse, and instructed the officer who\ncommanded them, how they were to act, that Aladdin might not escape\nthem. The detachment pursued their orders; and, about five or six\nleagues from the town, met him returning from hunting. The officer\nwent up to him, and told him that the sultan was so impatient to see\nhim, that he had sent them to accompany him home.\n\nAladdin had not the least suspicion of the true reason of their\nmeeting him, but pursued his way hunting; but when he came within\nhalf a league of the city, the detachment surrounded him, and the\nofficer addressed himself to him, and said, Prince Aladdin, it is\nwith great regret that I declare to you the sultan\u2019s order to\narrest you, and to carry you before him as a criminal. I beg of you\nnot to take it ill that we acquit ourselves of our duty, and to\nforgive us.\n\nAladdin, who felt himself innocent, was very much surprised at this\ndeclaration, and asked the officer if he knew what crime he was\naccused of, who replied he did not. Then Aladdin, finding that his\nretinue was much inferior to this detachment, alighted off his\nhorse, and said to the officer, Execute your orders; I am not\nconscious that I have committed any crime against the sultan\u2019s\nperson or government. A large long chain was immediately put about\nhis neck, and fastened round his body, so that both his arms were\npinioned down; then the officer put himself at the head of the\ndetachment, and one of the troopers taking hold of the end of the\nchain, and proceeding after the officer, led Aladdin, who was\nobliged to follow him on foot, into the town.\n\nWhen this detachment entered the suburbs, the people, who saw\nAladdin thus led as a state criminal, never doubted but that his\nhead was to be cut off; and as he was generally beloved, some took\nsabres and other arms; and those who had none, gathered stones, and\nfollowed the detachment. The last five of the detachment faced about\nto disperse them; but their numbers presently increased so much,\nthat the detachment began to think that it would be well if they\ncould get into the sultan\u2019s palace before Aladdin was rescued; to\nprevent which, according to the different extent of the streets,\nthey took care to cover the ground by extending or closing. In this\nmanner they arrived at the palace square, and there drew up in a\nline, and faced about till their officer and the trooper that led\nAladdin had got within the gates, which were immediately shut.\n\nAladdin was carried before the sultan, who waited for him, attended\nby the grand vizier, in a balcony; and as soon as he saw him, he\nordered the executioner, who waited there on purpose, to cut off his\nhead without hearing him, or giving him leave to clear himself.\n\nAs soon as the executioner had taken off the chain that was fastened\nabout Aladdin\u2019s neck and body, and laid down a skin stained with\nthe blood of the many criminals he had executed, he made Aladdin\nkneel down, and tied a bandage over his eyes. Then drawing his\nsabre, he took his measures to strike the blow, by flourishing it\nthree times in the air, waiting for the sultan\u2019s giving the signal\nto separate his head from his body.\n\nAt that instant the grand vizier perceiving that the populace had\nforced the guard of horse, and crowded the great square before the\npalace, and were scaling the walls in several places, and beginning\nto pull them down to force their way in, he said to the sultan,\nbefore he gave the signal, I beg of your majesty to consider what\nyou are going to do, since you will hazard your palace being forced;\nand who knows what fatal consequence may attend it? My palace\nforced! replied the sultan; who can have that boldness? Sir,\nanswered the grand vizier, if your majesty but cast your eyes\ntowards the great square, and on the palace walls, you will know the\ntruth of what I say.\n\nThe sultan was so frightened when he saw so great a crowd, and\nperceiving how enraged they were, that he ordered the executioner to\nput his sabre immediately in the scabbard, and to unbind Aladdin;\nand at the same time, bid the chiaoux declare to the people that the\nsultan had pardoned him and that they might retire.\n\nThen all those who had already got upon the walls, and were\nwitnesses of what had passed, abandoned their design, and got\nquickly down, overjoyed that they had saved the life of a man they\ndearly loved, published the news among the rest, which was presently\nconfirmed by the chiaoux from the top of the terraces. The justice\nwhich the sultan had done to Aladdin soon disarmed the populace of\ntheir rage; the tumult abated, and the mob dispersed.\n\nWhen Aladdin found himself at liberty, he turned towards the\nbalcony, and perceiving the sultan, raised his voice, and said to\nhim in a moving manner, I beg of your majesty to add one favour more\nto that which I have already received, which is, to let me know my\ncrime. Your crime! answered the sultan; perfidious wretch! do you\nnot know it? Come up hither, and I will show it you.\n\nAladdin went up, and presenting himself to the sultan, the latter\ngoing before him without looking at him, said, Follow me; and then\nled him into his closet. When he came to the door, he said, Go in;\nyou ought to know whereabouts your palace stood; look around, and\ntell me what is become of it.\n\nAladdin looked round, but saw nothing. He perceived very well the\nspot of ground his palace had stood on; but not being able to divine\nhow it should disappear, this extraordinary and surprising event\nthrew him into so great confusion and amazement, that he could not\nreturn one word of answer.\n\nThe sultan growing impatient, said to him again, Where is your\npalace, and what is become of my daughter? Then Aladdin breaking\nsilence, said to him, Sir, I see very well, and own that the palace\nwhich I have built is not in the same place it was, but is vanished;\nneither can I tell your majesty where it may be, but can assure you\nI have no hand in it.\n\nI am not so much concerned about your palace, replied the sultan; I\nvalue my daughter ten thousand times before it, and would have you\nfind her out, otherwise I will cause your head to be struck off, and\nno consideration shall prevent it.\n\nI beg of your majesty, answered Aladdin, to grant me forty days to\nmake my inquiries; and if in that time I have not the success I wish\nfor, I will come again, and offer my head at the foot of your\nthrone, to be disposed of at your pleasure. I give you the forty\ndays you ask for, said the sultan; but think not to abuse the favour\nI show you, by imagining you shall escape my resentment; for I will\nfind you out in whatsoever part of the world you are.\n\nAladdin went out of the sultan\u2019s presence with great humiliation,\nand in a condition worthy of pity. He crossed the courts of the\npalace, hanging down his head, and in so great confusion that he\ndurst not lift up his eyes. The principal officers of the court, who\nhad all professed themselves his friends, and whom he had never\ndisobliged, instead of going up to him to comfort him, and offer him\na retreat in their houses, turned their backs on him, as much to\navoid seeing him, as lest he should know them. But had they accosted\nhim with a word of comfort, or offer of service, they would have no\nmore known Aladdin. He did not know himself, and was no longer in\nhis senses, as plainly appeared by asking every body he met, and at\nevery house, if they had seen his palace, or could tell him any news\nof it.\n\nThese questions made every body believe that Aladdin was mad. Some\nlaughed at him, but people of sense and humanity, particularly those\nwho had had any connexion of business or friendship with him, really\npitied him. For three days he rambled about the city after this\nmanner, without coming to any resolution, or eating any thing but\nwhat some good people forced him to take out of charity.\n\nAt last, as he could no longer, in his unhappy condition, stay in a\ncity where he had formerly made so fine a figure, he quitted it, and\ntook the road to the country; and after he had traversed several\nfields in a frightful uncertainty, at the approach of night he came\nto a river side. There, possessed by his despair, he said to\nhimself, Where shall I seek my palace? In what province, country, or\npart of the world, shall I find that and my dear princess whom the\nsultan expects from me? I shall never succeed; I had better free\nmyself at once from so much fruitless fatigue and such bitter grief\nwhich preys upon me. He was just going to throw himself into the\nriver, but as a good Mussulman, true to his religion, he thought he\ncould not do it without first saying his prayers. Going to prepare\nhimself, he went first to the river side to wash his hands and face,\naccording to custom. But that place being steep and slippery, by\nreason of the water beating against it, he slid down and had\ncertainly fallen into the river, but for a little rock which\nprojected about two feet out of the earth. Happily also for him, he\nstill had on the ring which the African magician put on his finger\nbefore he went down into the subterraneous abode to fetch the\nprecious lamp, which had not been taken from him. In slipping down\nthe bank he rubbed the ring so hard by holding on the rock, that\nimmediately the same genie appeared whom he saw in the cave where\nthe magician left him. What wouldst thou have? said the genie. I am\nready to obey thee as thy slave, and the slave of all those that\nhave that ring on their finger; both I and the other slaves of the\nring.\n\nAladdin, agreeably surprised at an apparition he so little expected\nin the despair he was in, replied, Save my life, genie, a second\ntime, either by showing me the place where the palace I have caused\nto be built now stands, or immediately transport it back where it\nfirst stood. What you command me, answered the genie, is not in my\npower; I am only the slave of the ring; you must address yourself to\nthe slave of the lamp. If it be so, replied Aladdin, I command thee\nby the power of the ring to transport me to the place where my\npalace stands, in what part of the world soever it is, and set me\ndown under the princess Badroulboudour\u2019s window. These words were\nno sooner out of his mouth, but the genie transported him into\nAfrica, to the midst of a large meadow, where his palace stood, a\nsmall distance from a great city, and set him exactly under the\nwindows of the princess\u2019s apartments, and then left him. All this\nwas done almost in an instant.\n\nAladdin, notwithstanding the darkness of the night, knew his palace\nand the princess Badroulboudour\u2019s apartment again very well; but\nas the night was far advanced, and all was quiet in the palace, he\nretired to some distance, and sat down at the foot of a large tree.\nThere, full of hopes, and reflecting on his happiness, for which he\nwas indebted to pure chance, he found himself in a much more\npeaceable situation than when he was arrested and carried before the\nsultan, and delivered from the danger of losing his life. He amused\nhimself some time with these agreeable thoughts; but not having\nslept for five or six days, he was not able to resist the drowsiness\nwhich came upon him, but fell fast asleep where he was.\n\nThe next morning, as soon as day appeared, Aladdin was agreeably\nawakened not only by the singing of the birds which had roosted in\nthe tree under which he had passed the night, but all those which\nperched in the thick groves of the palace garden. When he cast his\neyes on that wonderful edifice, he felt an inexpressible joy to\nthink he should soon be master of it again, and once more possess\nhis dear princess Badroulboudour. Pleased with these hopes, he\nimmediately got up, went towards the princess\u2019s apartment, and\nwalked some time under her window, in expectation of her rising,\nthat he might see her. During this expectation, he began to consider\nwith himself from whence the cause of his misfortunes proceeded; and\nafter mature reflection, he no longer doubted that it was owing to\nhis having put his lamp out of his sight. He accused himself of\nnegligence, and the little care he took of it, to let it be a moment\naway from him. But what puzzled him most was, he could not imagine\nwho had been so jealous of his happiness. He would soon have guessed\nthis, if he had known that both he and his palace were in Africa,\nthe very name of which would soon have made him remember the\nmagician, his declared enemy; but the genie, the slave of the ring,\nhad not made the least mention of the name of the place, nor had\nAladdin asked him.\n\nThe princess Badroulboudour rose earlier that morning than she had\ndone since her transportation into Africa by the magician, whose\npresence she was forced to support once a day, because he was master\nof the palace; but she had always treated him so harshly, that he\ndared not reside in it. As she was dressing, one of the women\nlooking through the window, perceived Aladdin, and presently ran and\ntold her mistress. The princess, who could not believe the news,\nwent that moment herself to the window, and seeing Aladdin,\nimmediately opened it. The noise the princess made in opening the\nwindow made Aladdin turn his head that way, who, knowing the\nprincess, saluted her with an air that expressed his joy. To lose no\ntime, said she to him, I have sent to have the private door opened\nfor you; enter, and then come up; she then shut the window.\n\nThe private door, which was just under the princess\u2019s apartment,\nwas soon opened, and Aladdin was conducted up into the princess\u2019s\nchamber. It is impossible to express the joy of those lovers at\nseeing each other, after a separation which they both thought was\nfor ever. They embraced several times, and showed all the marks of a\nsincere love and tenderness, after an event so unforeseen and\nmelancholy. After these embracings, and shedding tears of joy, they\nsat down, and Aladdin assuming the discourse, said, I beg of you,\nprincess, in God\u2019s name, before we talk of any thing else, to tell\nme, both for your own sake, and the sultan your father\u2019s, and\nmine, what is become of an old lamp which I left upon the cornice in\nthe hall of the four-and-twenty windows, before I went to hunting?\n\nAlas! dear husband, answered the princess, I am afraid our\nmisfortune is owing to that lamp: and what grieves me most is, that\nI have been the cause of it. Princess, replied Aladdin, do not blame\nyourself, since it was entirely my fault, and I ought to have taken\nmore care of it. But let us now think only of repairing the loss;\ntell me what has happened, and into whose hands it has fallen.\n\nThen the princess Badroulboudour gave Aladdin an account how she\nchanged the old lamp for a new one, which she ordered to be fetched,\nthat he might see it, and how the next morning she found herself in\nthe unknown country they were then in, which she was told was Africa\nby the traitor who had transported her thither by his magic art.\n\nPrincess, said Aladdin, interrupting her, you have informed me who\nthe traitor is, by telling me we are in Africa. He is the most\nperfidious of all men; but this is neither a time nor place to give\nyou a full account of his villanies. I desire you only to tell me\nwhat he has done with the lamp, and where he has put it. He carries\nit carefully wrapt up in his bosom, said the princess; and this I\ncan assure you, because he pulled it out before me, and showed it to\nme in triumph.\n\nPrincess, said Aladdin, do not be displeased that I trouble you with\nso many questions, since they are equally important both to you and\nme. But to come to what most particularly concerns me. Tell me, I\nconjure you, how so wicked and perfidious a man treats you. Since I\nhave been here, replied the princess, he comes once every day to see\nme; and I am persuaded the little satisfaction he receives from his\nvisits makes him come no oftener. All his discourse tends to\npersuade me to break that faith I have pledged to you, and to take\nhim for a husband; giving me to understand, I ought not to entertain\nany hopes of ever seeing you again, for that you were dead, and had\nhad your head struck off by the sultan my father\u2019s order. He\nadded, to justify himself, that you were an ungrateful wretch; that\nyour good fortune was owing to him, and a great many other things of\nthat nature, which I forbear to repeat: but as he received no answer\nfrom me but grievous complaints and tears, he was always forced to\nretire with as little satisfaction as he came. I doubt not his\nintention is to allow me time to vanquish my grief, in hopes\nafterwards that I may change my sentiments; and if I persevere in an\nobstinate refusal, to use violence. But my dear husband\u2019s presence\nremoves all my disquiets.\n\nI am confident it is not in vain, replied Aladdin, since my\nprincess\u2019s fears are removed, and I think I have found the means\nto deliver you from both your enemy and mine: to execute this\ndesign, it is necessary for me to go to the town. I shall return by\nnoon, and then will communicate my design to you, and tell you what\nmust be done by you to ensure success. But that you may not be\nsurprised, I think it proper to acquaint you that I shall change my\napparel, and beg of you to give orders that I may not wait long at\nthe private door, but that it may be opened at the first knock: all\nwhich the princess promised to observe.\n\nWhen Aladdin was got out of the palace by that door, he looked round\nabout him on all sides, and perceiving a peasant going into the\ncountry, he hastened after him; and when he had overtaken him, made\na proposal to him to change clothes, which the man agreed to: they\nwent behind a hedge, and there made the exchange. The countryman\nwent about his business, and Aladdin to the city. After traversing\nseveral streets, he came to that part of the town where all sorts of\nmerchants and artisans had their particular streets according to\ntheir trades. He went into that of the druggists; and going into one\nof the largest and best furnished shops, asked the druggist if he\nhad a certain powder which he named.\n\nThe druggist looking upon Aladdin by his habit to be very poor, and\nthat he had not money enough to pay for it, told him he had it, but\nthat it was very dear; upon which Aladdin, penetrating into his\nthoughts, pulled out his purse, and allowing him some gold, asked\nfor half a drachm of the powder; which the druggist weighed, and\nwrapt up in a piece of paper, and gave him, telling him the price\nwas a piece of gold. Aladdin put the money into his hand, and\nstaying no longer in the town but just to get a little refreshment,\nreturned to the palace, where he waited not long at the private\ndoor. When he came into the princess\u2019s apartment, he said to her,\nPrincess, perhaps the aversion you tell me you have for your\nravisher, may be an objection to your executing what I am going to\npropose to you; but give me leave to tell you, it is proper that you\nshould at this juncture dissemble a little, and do violence to your\ninclinations, if you would deliver yourself from him, and give my\nlord the sultan your father the satisfaction of seeing you again.\n\nIf you will take my advice, continued he, dress yourself this moment\nin one of your richest habits, and when the African magician comes,\nmake no difficulty to give him the best reception; receive him with\nan open countenance, without affectation or constraint, yet so as\nthat, if there remains any cloud of affliction, he may imagine time\nwill dissipate it. In your conversation, let him understand that you\nstrive to forget me; and that he may be the more fully convinced of\nyour sincerity, invite him to sup with you, and give him to\nunderstand you should be glad to taste some of the best wines of his\ncountry. He will presently go to fetch you some. During his absence,\nput into one of the cups like that you are accustomed to drink out\nof, this powder, and setting it by, charge the slave you design that\nnight to attend you, upon a signal you shall agree upon with her, to\nbring that cup to you. When the magician and you have eaten and\ndrank as much as you choose, let her bring you the cup, and change\ncups with him. He will take it as so great a favour that he will not\nrefuse you, and will empty the cup; but no sooner will he have drank\nit off, than you will see him fall backwards. If you have any\nreluctance to drink out of his cup, you may pretend only to do it,\nwithout fear of being discovered; for the effect of the powder is so\nquick, that he will not have time enough to know whether you drink\nor not.\n\nWhen Aladdin had finished, I own, answered the princess, I shall do\nmyself a great violence in consenting to make the magician such\nadvances as I see are absolutely necessary for me to make; but what\ncannot one resolve to do against a cruel enemy? I will therefore\nfollow your advice, since both my repose and yours depend on it.\nAfter the princess had agreed to the measures proposed by Aladdin,\nhe took his leave of her, and went and spent the rest of the day in\nthe neighbourhood of the palace till it was night, when he might\nsafely return to the private door.\n\nThe princess Badroulboudour, who was not only inconsolable to be\nseparated from her dear husband, whom she loved from the first\nmoment, and still continued to love more out of inclination than\nduty, but also from the sultan her father, who had always showed a\ntender and paternal love for her, had, ever since that cruel\nseparation, lived in great neglect of her person. She had almost, as\none may say, forgot the neatness so becoming persons of her sex and\nquality, particularly after the first time the magician paid her a\nvisit; and she understood by some of the women, who knew him again,\nthat it was he who took the old lamp in exchange for a new one,\nwhich notorious cheat rendered the sight of him more abhorred.\nHowever, the opportunity of taking the revenge he deserved sooner\nthan she durst hope for, made her resolve to gratify Aladdin. As\nsoon, therefore, as he was gone, she sat down at her toilet, and was\ndressed by her women to the best advantage, in the richest habit,\nmost suitable to her design. Her girdle was of the finest and\nlargest diamonds set in gold, which she suited with a necklace of\npearls, six on a side, so well proportioned to that in the middle,\nwhich was the largest and most valuable, that the greatest\nsultanesses and queens would have been proud to have been adorned\nwith only two of the smallest. Her bracelets, which were of diamonds\nand rubies intermixed, answered admirably to the richness of the\ngirdle and necklace.\n\nWhen the princess Badroulboudour was completely dressed, she\nconsulted her glass and women upon her adjustment; and when she\nfound she wanted no charms to flatter the foolish passion of the\nAfrican magician, she sat down on a sofa, expecting his arrival.\n\nThe magician came at the usual hour, and as soon as he entered the\ngreat hall, where the princess waited to receive him, she rose up in\nall her beauty and charms, and pointed with her hand to the most\nhonourable place, waiting till he sat down, that she might sit at\nthe same time, which was a piece of civility she had never shown him\nbefore.\n\nThe African magician, dazzled more with the lustre of the\nprincess\u2019s eyes than the glittering of the jewels with which she\nwas adorned, was very much surprised. The majestic and graceful air\nwith which she received him, so opposite to her former behaviour,\nquite confounded him.\n\nWhen he was sat down, the princess, to free him from his\nembarrassment, broke silence first, looking at him all the time in a\nmanner sufficient to make him believe that he was not so odious to\nher as she had given him to understand before, said to him, You are\ndoubtless amazed to find me so much altered to-day from what I used\nto be; but your surprise will not be so great when I acquaint you\nthat I am naturally of a disposition so opposite to melancholy and\ngrief, sorrow and uneasiness, that I always strive to put them as\nfar away as possible when I find the subject of them is past. I have\nreflected on what you told me of Aladdin\u2019s fate, and know the\nsultan my father\u2019s temper so well, that I am persuaded, with you,\nthat Aladdin could not escape the terrible effects of his rage;\ntherefore, should I continue to lament him all my life --my tears\ncannot recall him. For this reason, after I have paid all the duties\nmy love requires of me to his memory, now he is in the grave, I\nthink I ought to endeavour to comfort myself. These are the motives\nof the change you see in me; and to begin to cast off all\nmelancholy, I am resolved to banish it entirely; and persuaded you\nwill bear me company to-night, I have ordered a supper to be\nprepared; but as I have no wines but of China, I have a great desire\nto taste of the product of Africa, where I now am, and doubt not you\nwill get some of the best.\n\nThe African magician, who looked upon the happiness of coming so\nsoon and so easily into the princess Badroulboudour\u2019s good graces\nas impossible, could not think of words expressive enough to testify\nhow sensible he was of her favours; but to put an end the sooner to\na conversation which would have embarrassed him, if he had engaged\nfarther in it, he turned it upon the wines of Africa, and said, of\nall the advantages Africa can boast, that of producing the most\nexcellent wines is one of the principal. I have a vessel of seven\nyears old, which has never been broached; and it is indeed not\npraising it too much to say it is the finest wine in the world. If\nmy princess, added he, will give me leave, I will go and fetch two\nbottles, and return again immediately. I should be sorry to give you\nthat trouble, replied the princess, you had better send for them. It\nis necessary I should go myself, answered the African magician; for\nnobody but myself knows where the key of the cellar is laid, or has\nthe secret to unlock the door. If it be so, said the princess, make\nhaste back again; for the longer you stay, the greater will be my\nimpatience, and we shall sit down to supper as soon as you come back.\n\nThe African magician, full of hopes of his expected happiness,\nrather flew than ran, and returned quickly with the wine. --The\nprincess not doubting in the least but he would make haste, put with\nher own hand the powder Aladdin gave her into the cup that was set\napart for that purpose. They sat down at the table opposite to each\nother, the magician\u2019s back towards the beaufet. The princess\npresented him with the best at the table, and said to him, If you\nplease, I will entertain you with a concert of vocal and\ninstrumental music; but as we are only two. I think conversation may\nbe more agreeable. This the magician took as a new favour.\n\nAfter they had eaten some time, the princess called for some wine,\nand drank the magician\u2019s health; and afterwards said to him,\nIndeed you was in the right to commend your wine, since I never\ntasted of any so delicious in my life. Charming princess, said he,\nholding in his hand the cup which had been presented to him, my wine\nbecomes more exquisite by your approbation of it. Then drink my\nhealth, replied the princess; you will find I understand wines. He\ndrank the princess\u2019s health, and returning the cup, said, I think\nmyself happy, princess, that I reserved this wine for so good an\noccasion; and I own I never before drank any so excellent in every\nrespect.\n\nWhen they had drank two or three cups more a-piece, the princess,\nwho had completely charmed the African magician by her civility and\nobliging behaviour, gave the signal to the slave who served them\nwith wine, bidding her bring the cup which had been filled for\nherself, and at the same time bring the magician a full cup. When\nthey both had their cups in their hands, she said to him, I know not\nhow you here express your love when drinking together as we are:\nwith us in China, the lover and his mistress reciprocally exchange\ncups, and drink each other\u2019s health; at the same time she\npresented to him the cup which was in her hand, and held out her\nhand to receive his. He for his part hastened to make the exchange\nwith the more pleasure, as he looked upon this favour as the most\ncertain token of an entire conquest over the princess, which raised\nhis happiness to its height. Before he drank, he said to her, with\nthe cup in his hand, Indeed, princess, we Africans are not so\nrefined in the art of love as you Chinese; and instructing me in a\nlesson I was ignorant of, informs me how sensible I ought to be of\nthe favour done me. I shall never, lovely princess, forget my\nrecovering, by drinking out of your cup, that life, which your\ncruelty, had it continued, would have made me despair of.\n\nThe princess Badroulboudour, who began to be tired with this\nbarefaced declaration of the African magician, interrupted him, and\nsaid, Let us drink first, and then say what you will afterwards; and\nat the same time set the cup to her lips, while the African\nmagician, who was eager to get his wine off first, drank up the very\nlast drop. In finishing it, he had reclined his head back to show\nhis eagerness, and remained some time in that state. The princess\nkept her cup at her lips, till she saw his eyes turn in his head,\nand he fell backwards lifeless.\n\nThe princess had no occasion to order the back-door to be opened to\nAladdin; for her women were so disposed from the great hall to the\nfoot of the staircase, that the word was no sooner given, that the\nAfrican magician was fallen backwards, but the door opened that\ninstant.\n\nAs soon as Aladdin entered the hall, he saw the magician stretched\nbackwards on the sofa. The princess Badroulboudour rose from her\nseat and ran overjoyed to him to embrace him; but he stopped her,\nand said, Princess, it is not yet time; oblige me by retiring to\nyour apartment, and let me be left alone a moment, while I endeavour\nto transport you back to China as soon as you were brought from\nthence.\n\nWhen the princess, her women, and eunuchs, were gone out of the\nhall, Aladdin shut the door, and going directly to the dead body of\nthe magician, opened his vest, and took out the lamp carefully wrapt\nup, as the princess told him, and unfolding and rubbing it, the\ngenie immediately appeared. Genie, said Aladdin, I have called thee\nto command thee on the part of thy good mistress this lamp, to\ntransport this palace presently into China, to the same place from\nwhence it was brought hither. The genie bowed his head in token of\nobedience, and disappeared. Immediately the palace was transported\ninto China, and its removal was only felt by two little shocks, the\none when it was lifted up, the other when it was set down, and both\nin a very short interval of time.\n\nAladdin went down to the princess\u2019s apartment, and embracing her,\nsaid, I can assure you, princess, that your joy and mine will be\ncomplete to-morrow morning. The princess, who had not quite supped,\nguessing that Aladdin might be hungry, ordered the meats that were\nserved up in the hall, and were scarcely touched, to be brought\ndown. The princess and Aladdin eat as much as they thought fit, and\ndrank in like manner of the African magician\u2019s old wine; during\nwhich time their discourse could not be any otherwise than\nsatisfactory, and then they retired to their own chamber.\n\nFrom the time of the transportation of Aladdin\u2019s palace, and of\nthe princes Badroulboudour in it, the sultan, that princess\u2019s\nfather, was inconsolable for the loss of her, as he considered it.\nHe hardly slept night or day, and instead of taking measures to\navoid every thing that could keep up his affliction, he, on the\ncontrary, indulged it; for whereas before he used to go every\nmorning into his closet to please himself with that agreeable\nprospect, he went now many times in the day to renew his tears, and\nplunge himself into the deepest melancholy, by the idea of no more\nseeing that which once gave him so much pleasure, and reflecting how\nhe had lost what was the most dear to him in this world.\n\nThe very morning of the return of Aladdin\u2019s palace, the sultan\nwent, by break of day, into his closet to indulge his sorrows.\nCollected in himself, and in a pensive mood, he cast his eyes in a\nmelancholy manner towards the place where he remembered the palace\nonce stood, expecting only to see an open space; but perceiving that\nvacuum filled up, he at first imagined it to be the effect of a fog;\nbut looking more attentively, he was convinced beyond the power of\ndoubt that it was his son-in-law\u2019s palace. Then joy and gladness\nsucceeded to sorrow and grief. He returned immediately into his\napartment, and ordered a horse to be saddled and brought to him in\nall haste, which he mounted that instant, thinking he could not make\nhaste enough to get to Aladdin\u2019s palace.\n\nAladdin, who foresaw what would happen, rose that morning by\ndaybreak, put on one of the most magnificent habits his wardrobe\nafforded, and went up into the hall of twenty-four windows, from\nwhence he perceived the sultan coming, and got down soon enough to\nreceive him at the foot of the great staircase, and to help him to\ndismount. Aladdin, said the sultan, I cannot speak to you till I\nhave seen and embraced my daughter.\n\nHe led the sultan into the princess Badroulboudour\u2019s apartment,\nwho having been told by him when he rose, that she was no longer in\nAfrica, but in China, and in the capital of the sultan her father,\nhad just done dressing herself. The sultan embraced her with his\nface bathed in tears of joy; and the princess, on her side, gave him\nall the testimonies of the extreme pleasure the sight of him gave\nher.\n\nThe sultan was some time before he could open his lips, so great was\nhis surprise and joy to find his daughter again, after he had given\nher up for lost; and the princess, after seeing her father, let fall\ntears of joy.\n\nAt last the sultan broke silence, and said, I would believe,\ndaughter, your joy to see me makes you seem so little changed, as if\nno misfortune had befallen you; for a large palace cannot be so\nsuddenly transported as yours has been, without great fright and\nterrible anguish. I would have you tell me all that has happened,\nand conceal nothing from me.\n\nThe princess, who took great pleasure in giving the sultan the\nsatisfaction he demanded, said, Sir, if I appear so little altered,\nI beg of your majesty to consider, that I received new life\nyesterday morning by the presence of my dear husband and deliverer\nAladdin, whom I looked upon and bewailed as lost to me; and the\nhappiness of seeing and embracing whom has almost recovered me to my\nformer state of health. But my greatest trouble was only to find\nmyself forced from your majesty, and my dear husband; not only in\nresect to the inclination I bore to my husband, but from the\nuneasiness I laboured under besides, for fear that he, though\ninnocent, should feel the effects of your anger, to which I knew he\nwas left exposed. I suffered but little from the insolence of the\nwretch who had carried me off; for having secured the ascendant over\nhim, I always put a stop to his disagreeable discourse, and was as\nlittle constrained as I am at present.\n\nAs to what relates to my transportation, Aladdin had no hand in it;\nI myself am the innocent cause of it. To persuade the sultan of the\ntruth of what she said, she gave him a full account how the African\nmagician disguised himself like a seller of lamps, and offered to\nchange new lamps for old ones; and how she amused herself in making\nthat exchange, being entirely ignorant of the secret and importance\nof that lamp; how the palace and herself were carried away and\ntransported into Africa, with the African magician, who was\nrecollected by two of her women, and the eunuch who made the\nexchange of the lamp, when he had the boldness to pay her the first\nvisit, after the success of his audacious enterprise, to propose\nhimself for her husband; how he persecuted her till Aladdin\u2019s\narrival; how he and she concerted measures together to get the lamp\nfrom him again, which he carried about him; and the success they\nhad; and particularly by her dissimulation, inviting him to supper,\nand giving him the cup with the powder prepared for him. For the\nrest, added she, I leave it to Aladdin to give you an account.\n\nAladdin had not much to tell the sultan, but only said, When the\nprivate door was opened, I went up into the great hall, where I\nfound the magician lying dead on the sofa; as I thought it not\nproper for the princess to stay there any longer, I desired her to\ngo down into her own apartment, with her women and eunuchs. As soon\nas I was alone, and had taken the lamp out of the magician\u2019s\nbreast, I made use of the same secret he had done, to remove the\npalace, and carry off the princess; and by that means the palace was\nbrought into the same place where it stood before; and I have the\nhappiness to bring back the princess to your majesty, as you\ncommanded me. But that your majesty may not think that I impose upon\nyou, if you will give yourself the trouble to go up into the hall,\nyou shall see the magician punished as he deserved.\n\nThe sultan, to be assured of the truth, rose up instantly, and went\nup into the hall, where, when he saw the African magician dead, and\nhis face already livid by the strength of the poison, he embraced\nAladdin with great tenderness, and said, My son, be not displeased\nat my proceedings against you; they arose from my paternal love, and\ntherefore you ought to forgive the excesses to which it hurried me.\nSir, replied Aladdin, I have not the least reason to complain of\nyour majesty\u2019s conduct, since you did nothing but what your duty\nrequired of you. This infamous magician, the basest of men, was the\nsole cause of my misfortune. When your majesty has leisure, I will\ngive you an account of another villanous action he was guilty of to\nme, which was no less black and base than this, from which I was\npreserved by the grace of God in a very particular manner. I will\ntake an opportunity, and that very shortly, replied the sultan, to\nhear it; but in the mean time let us think only of rejoicing, and\nthe removal of this odious object.\n\nAladdin ordered the magician\u2019s dead carcass to be removed and\nthrown on the dunghill, for the birds and beasts to prey upon. In\nthe mean time the sultan commanded the drums, trumpets, cymbals, and\nother instruments of music, to announce the public joy, and a feast\nof ten days to be proclaimed for joy of the return of the princess\nBadroulboudour, and Aladdin with his palace.\n\nThus Aladdin escaped a second time the almost inevitable danger of\nlosing his life: but this was not the last, since he ran as great a\nhazard a third time; the circumstances of which I shall relate.\n\nThe African magician had a younger brother, who was as great a\nnecromancer, and even surpassed him in villany, and pernicious\ndesigns. As they did not live together, or in the same city, but\noftentimes when one was in the east the other was in the west, they\nfailed not every year to inform themselves, by their art of\nnecromancy, where each other was, how they did, and whether they\nstood in need of each other\u2019s assistance.\n\nSome time after the African magician had failed in his enterprise\nagainst Aladdin\u2019s happiness, his younger brother, who had not\nheard any tidings of him for a year, and was not in Africa, but in a\ndistant country, had the curiosity to know in what part of the world\nhe was, how he did, and what he was doing; and as he, as well as his\nbrother, always carried a geomantic square instrument about him, he\nprepared the sand, [98] cast the points, and drew the figures. On\nexamining the houses, he found that his brother was no longer\nliving; by another house, that he had been poisoned, and died\nsuddenly; and by another, that it was in the capital of the kingdom\nof China; and that the person who poisoned him was of mean birth,\nand married to a princess, a sultan\u2019s daughter.\n\nWhen the magician had after this manner informed himself of his\nbrother\u2019s fate, he lost no time in useless regret, which could not\nrestore him to life again; but resolving immediately to revenge his\ndeath, he took horse, and set forwards for China: where, after\ncrossing plains, rivers, mountains, deserts, and a long tract of\ncountry, without stopping, he arrived after incredible fatigues.\n\nWhen he came to the capital of China, which his knowledge of\ngeomancy pointed out to him, and being certain he had not mistaken\nany other kingdom for it, he took a lodging. The next day he went\nout, and walked through the town, not so much to observe the\nbeauties, which were indifferent to him, but with an intention to\ntake proper measures to execute his pernicious designs. He\nintroduced himself into the most frequented places, where he\nlistened to every body\u2019s discourse. In a place where people\nresorted to divert themselves with all sorts of games, and where\nsome are conversing while others play, he heard some persons talk of\nthe virtue and piety of a woman called Fatima, who was retired from\nthe world, and of the miracles she performed. As he fancied that\nthis woman might be serviceable to him in the project he had in his\nhead, he took one of the company aside, and desired him to tell him\nmore particularly who that holy woman was, and what sort of miracles\nshe performed.\n\nWhat! said the person to whom he addressed himself, have you never\nseen or heard talk of her? She is the admiration of the whole town;\nfirst, for her fasting, her austerities, and her exemplary life.\nExcept Mondays and Fridays, she never stirs out of her little cell;\nand on those days on which she comes into the town, she does an\ninfinite deal of good; for there is not a person who has the\nhead-ache, but is cured by her laying her hand upon them.\n\nThe magician wanted no further information. He only asked the person\nin what part of the town this holy woman\u2019s cell was. After he had\nshown him it, and he had concluded and determined on the detestable\ndesign he had in his head, and that he might know the way again, and\nbe fully informed, he watched all her steps the first day she went\nout after he had made this inquiry, without losing sight of her till\nevening, when he saw her re-enter her cell. When he had fully\nobserved the place, he went to one of those houses where they sell a\ncertain hot liquor, and where any person may pass the night,\nparticularly in the great heats, when the people of that country\nprefer lying on a mat to a bed. About midnight, after the magician\nhad satisfied the master of the house for what little he had called\nfor, he went out, and proceeded directly to the cell of Fatima, the\nholy woman, the name she was known by throughout the town. He had no\ndifficulty to open the door, which was only fastened with a latch,\nand he shut it again after he had got in, without any noise; and\nwhen he entered the cell, perceived Fatima by moonlight lying in the\nair on a sofa, covered only by an old mat, with her head leaning\nagainst the wall. He awakened her and clapped a dagger to her breast.\n\nPoor Fatima, opening her eyes, was very much surprised to see a man\nwith a dagger at her breast ready to stab her, and who said to her,\nIf you cry out, or make the least noise, I will kill you; but get up\nand do as I bid you.\n\nFatima, who had lain down in her clothes, got up trembling with\nfear. Do not be so much frightened, said the magician; I only want\nyour habit; give it me presently, and take mine. Accordingly Fatima\nand he changed clothes. Then he said, colour my face as yours is,\nthat I may be like you; but perceiving that the poor creature could\nnot help trembling, to encourage her, he said, I tell you again, you\nneed not fear any thing: I swear by the name of God I will not take\naway your life. Fatima lighted her lamp, made him come into the\ncell, and taking a pencil and dipping it into a certain liquor,\nrubbed it over his face, and assured him the colour would not\nchange, and that his face was of the same dye as her own: after\nwhich she put her own head-dress on his head, with a veil, with\nwhich she showed him how to hide his face as he passed through the\ntown. After this, she put a long string of beads about his neck,\nwhich hung down to the middle of his body, and giving him the stick\nshe used to walk with, in his hand, brought him a looking-glass, and\nbid him look if he was not as like her as possible. The magician\nfound himself disguised as he wished to be; but he did not keep the\noath he so solemnly swore to the good Fatima; but instead of\nstabbing her, for fear the blood might discover him, he strangled\nher; and when he found she was dead, threw her body into a cistern\njust by the cell.\n\nThe magician thus disguised like the holy woman Fatima, spent the\nremainder of the night in the cell, after he had committed so horrid\na murder. The next morning, two hours after sunrise, though it was\nnot a day the holy woman used to go out on, he crept out of the\ncell, being well persuaded that nobody would ask him any questions\nabout it; or, if they should, he had an answer ready for them. As\none of the first things he did after his arrival was to find out\nAladdin\u2019s palace, where he was to execute his designs, he went\ndirectly thither.\n\nAs soon as the people saw the holy woman, as they imagined him to\nbe, they presently gathered about him in a great crowd. Some begged\nhis blessing, others kissed his hand, and others more reserved, only\nthe hem of his garment; while others, whether their heads ached, or\nthey had a mind to be preserved against that distemper, stooped for\nhim to lay his hands upon them; which he did, muttering some words\nin form of prayer: and, in short, counterfeited so well, that every\nbody took him for the holy woman.\n\nAfter frequently stopping to satisfy these kind of people, who\nreceived neither good nor harm from this imposition of hands, he\ncame at last to the square before Aladdin\u2019s palace. The crowd was\nso great that the eagerness to get at him increased in proportion.\nThose who were the most zealous and strong forced their way through\nthe crowd to get room. There were such quarrels, and so great a\nnoise, that the princess, who was in the hall of four-and-twenty\nwindows, heard it, and asked what was the matter; but nobody being\nable to give her an account, she ordered them to go and see, and\ninform her. One of her women looked out of a window, and then told\nher it was a great crowd of people that were gathering about the\nholy woman, to be cured of the head-ache by the imposition of her\nhands.\n\nThe princess, who had for a long time heard a great deal of this\nholy woman, but had never seen her, conceived a great curiosity to\nhave some conversation with her, which the chief of the eunuchs\nperceiving, told her it was an easy matter to bring her to her, if\nshe desired and commanded it; and the princess showing a desire, he\nimmediately sent four eunuchs for the pretended holy woman.\n\nAs soon as the crowd saw the eunuchs coming, they made way, and the\nmagician perceiving also that they were coming for him, advanced to\nmeet them, overjoyed to find his plot took so well. Holy woman, said\none of the eunuchs, the princess wants to see you, and has sent us\nfor you. The princess does me too great an honour, replied the false\nFatima. I am ready to obey her command, and at the same time\nfollowed the eunuchs to the palace.\n\nWhen the magician, who under a holy garment disguised a wicked\nheart, was introduced into the great hall, and perceived the\nprincess, he began a prayer, which contained a long enumeration of\nvows and good wishes for the princess\u2019s health and prosperity, and\nthat she might have every thing she desired. Then he displayed all\nhis deceitful, hypocritical rhetoric, to insinuate himself into the\nprincess\u2019s favour under the cloak of piety, which it was no hard\nmatter for him to do; for as the princess herself was naturally\ngood, she was easily persuaded that all the world was like her,\nespecially those who made profession of serving God in solitary\nretreat.\n\nWhen the pretended Fatima had made an end of his long harangue, the\nprincess said to him, I thank you, good mother, for your prayers; I\nhave great confidence in them, and hope God will hear them. Come,\nand sit by me. The false Fatima sat down with affected modesty: then\nthe princess resuming her discourse, said, My good mother, I have\none thing to ask you, which you must not refuse me; which is, to\nstay with me, that you may entertain me with your way of living; and\nthat I may learn from your good example how to serve God. Princess,\nsaid the counterfeit Fatima, I beg of you not to ask what I cannot\nconsent to, without neglecting my prayers and devotion. That shall\nbe no hindrance to you, answered the princess; I have a great many\napartments unoccupied; you shall choose which you like best, and\nshall have as much liberty to perform your devotions, as if you were\nin your own cell.\n\nThe magician, who wanted nothing more than to introduce himself into\nAladdin\u2019s palace, where it would be a much easier matter for him\nto execute his pernicious designs, under the favour and protection\nof the princess, than if he had been forced to come and go from the\ncell to the palace, did not urge much to excuse himself from\naccepting the obliging offer the princess made him. Princess, said\nhe, whatever resolution a poor wretched woman, as I am, may have\nmade to renounce the pomp and grandeur of this world, I dare not\npresume to oppose the will and commands of so pious and charitable a\nprincess.\n\nUpon this the princess rising up, said, Come along with me, I will\nshow you what empty apartments I have, that you may make choice of\nwhich you like best. The magician followed the princess\nBadroulboudour, and of all the apartments she showed him, made\nchoice of that which was the worst furnished, saying, That it was\ntoo good for him, and that he only accepted of it to please her.\n\nAfterwards the princess would have brought him back again into the\ngreat hall to make him dine with her; but he considering that then\nhe should be obliged to show his face, which he had always taken\ncare to hide; and fearing that the princess should find out that he\nwas not Fatima, he begged of her earnestly to dispense with him,\ntelling her that he never eat any thing but bread and dried fruits,\nand desiring to eat that slight repast in his own apartment; that\nthe princess granted him, saying, You may be as free here, good\nmother, as if you were in your own cell: I will order you a dinner,\nBut remember I expect you as soon as you have finished your repast.\n\nAfter the princess had dined, and the false Fatima had been informed\nby one of the eunuchs that she was risen from the table, he failed\nnot to wait upon her. My good mother, said the princess, I am\noverjoyed to have the company of so holy a woman as yourself, who\nwill confer a blessing upon this palace. But now I am speaking of\nthis palace, pray how do you like it? And before I show you it all,\ntell me first what you think of this hall.\n\nUpon this question, the counterfeit Fatima, who, to act his part the\nbetter, affected to hang down his head, without so much as ever once\nlifting it up, at last looked up, and surveying the hall from one\nend to the other, when he had examined it well, said to the\nprincess, As far as such a solitary being as I can judge, who am\nunacquainted with what the world calls beautiful, this hall is truly\nadmirable and most beautiful; there wants but one thing. What is\nthat, good mother? answered the princess Badroulboudour; tell me, I\nconjure you. For my part I always believed, and have heard say, it\nwanted nothing; but if it does, it shall be supplied.\n\nPrincess, said the false Fatima, with great dissimulation, forgive\nme for the liberty I have taken; but my opinion is, if it can be of\nany importance, that if a roc\u2019s egg was hung up in the middle of\nthis dome, this hall would have no parallel in the four quarters of\nthe world, and your palace would be the wonder of the universe.\n\nMy good mother, said the princess, what bird is a roc, and where may\none get an egg? Princess, replied the pretended Fatima, it is a bird\nof prodigious size, which inhabits the top of mount Caucasus: the\narchitect who built your palace can get you one.\n\nAfter the princess Badroulboudour had thanked the false Fatima for\nwhat she believed her good advice, she conversed with her upon other\nmatters; but could not forget the roc\u2019s egg, which she made\naccount to tell Aladdin of when he returned from hunting. He had\nbeen gone six days, which the magician knew, and therefore took\nadvantage of his absence: but he returned that evening, after the\nfalse Fatima had taken leave of the princess, and retired to his\napartment. As soon as he arrived, he went directly up to the\nprincess\u2019s apartment, saluted and embraced her, but she seemed to\nreceive him coldly. My princess, said he, I think you are not so\ncheerful as you used to be; has any thing happened during my\nabsence, which has displeased you, or given you any trouble or\ndissatisfaction? In the name of God, do not conceal it from me; I\nwill leave nothing undone that is in my power to please you. It is a\ntrifling matter, replied the princess, which gives me so little\nconcern that I could not have thought you could have perceived it in\nmy countenance; but since you have unexpectedly discovered some\nalteration, I will no longer disguise a matter of so little\nconsequence from you.\n\nI always believed, as well as you, continued the princess\nBadroulboudour, that our palace was the most superb, magnificent,\nand complete in the world: but I will tell you now what I find fault\nwith, upon examining the hall of four-and-twenty windows. Do not you\nthink with me, that it would be complete, if a roc\u2019s egg was hung\nup in the midst of the dome? Princess, replied Aladdin, it is enough\nthat you think there wants such a thing; you shall see by the\ndiligence used to repair that deficiency, that there is nothing\nwhich I would not do for your sake.\n\nAladdin left the princess Badroulboudour that moment, and went up\ninto the hall of four-and-twenty windows, where pulling out of his\nbosom the lamp, which, after the danger he had been exposed to, he\nalways carried about him, he rubbed it; upon which the genie\nimmediately appeared. Genie, said Aladdin, there wants a roc\u2019s egg\nto be hung up in the midst of the dome: I command thee, in the name\nof this lamp, to repair the deficiency. Aladdin had no sooner\npronounced these words, but the genie gave so loud and terrible a\ncry, that the hall shook, and Aladdin could scarce stand upright.\nWhat! wretch, said the genie, in a voice that would have made the\nmost undaunted man tremble, is it not enough that I and my\ncompanions have done every thing for you, but you, by an unheard-of\ningratitude, must command me to bring my master, and hang him up in\nthe midst of this dome? This attempt deserves that you, your wife,\nand your palace, should be immediately reduced to ashes; but you are\nhappy in not being the author of this request, and that it does not\ncome from yourself. Know then, that the true author is the brother\nof the African magician, your enemy, whom you have destroyed as he\ndeserved. He is now in your palace, disguised in the clothes of the\nholy woman Fatima, whom he murdered; and it is he who has suggested\nto your wife to make this pernicious demand. His design is to kill\nyou, therefore take care of yourself. After these words, the genie\ndisappeared.\n\nAladdin lost not a word of what the genie had said. He had heard\ntalk of the holy woman Fatima, and how she pretended to cure the\nhead-ache. He returned to the princess\u2019s apartment, and without\nmentioning a word of what had happened, he sat down, and complained\nof a great pain which had suddenly seized his head; upon which the\nprincess ordered the holy woman to be presently fetched, and then\ntold him how that holy woman came to the palace, and that she had\nappointed her an apartment.\n\nWhen the pretended Fatima came, Aladdin said, Come hither, good\nmother; I am glad to see you here at so fortunate a time: I am\ntormented with a violent pain in my head, and request your\nassistance, by the confidence I have in your good prayers, and hope\nyou will not refuse me that favour which you do to so many persons\nafflicted with this distemper. So saying, he rose up, but held down\nhis head. The counterfeit Fatima advanced towards him, with his hand\nall the time on a dagger concealed in his girdle under his gown;\nwhich Aladdin observing, he seized his hand before he had drawn it,\npierced him to the heart with his own dagger, and then threw him\ndown on the floor dead.\n\nMy dear husband, what have you done? cried the princess in surprise.\nYou have killed the holy woman. No, my princess, answered Aladdin,\nwithout emotion, I have not killed Fatima, but a wicked wretch, that\nwould have assassinated me, if I had not prevented him. This wicked\nman, added he, uncovering his face, has strangled Fatima, whom you\naccused me of killing, and disguised himself in her clothes, to come\nand murder me: but that you may know him better, he is brother to\nthe African magician. Then Aladdin told her how he came to know\nthose particulars, and afterwards ordered the dead body to be taken\naway.\n\nThus was Aladdin delivered from the persecution of two brothers, who\nwere magicians. Within a few years afterwards the sultan died in a\ngood old age, and as he left no male children, the princess\nBadroulboudour, as lawful heir of the crown, succeeded him, and\ncommunicating the power to Aladdin, they reigned together many\nyears, and left a numerous and illustrious posterity behind them.\n\nSir, said the sultaness Scheherazade, after she had finished the\nstory of the Wonderful Lamp, your majesty without doubt has observed\nin the person of the African magician a man abandoned to the\nunbounded passion for possessing immense treasures by the most\nunworthy means. On the contrary, your majesty sees in Aladdin, a\nperson of mean birth raised to the regal dignity by making use of\nthe same treasures, which came to him without his seeking, but just\nas he had an occasion for them to compass the end proposed; and in\nthe sultan you will have learnt what dangers a just and equitable\nmonarch runs, even to the risk of being dethroned, when, by crying\ninjustice, and against all the rules of equity, he dares, by an\nunreasonable precipitation, condemn an innocent person to death,\nwithout giving him leave to justify himself. In short, you must\nabhor those two wicked magicians, one of whom sacrificed his life to\nattain great riches, the other his life and religion to revenge him,\nand both received the chastisements they deserved.\n\nThe sultan of the Indies signified to his spouse the sultaness\nScheherazade, that he was very much delighted with the prodigies he\nhad heard of the Wonderful Lamp, and that the stories which she told\nhim every night gave him a great deal of pleasure. Indeed they were\nall diverting, and for the most part seasoned with a good moral. He\nfound that the sultaness knew how to introduce them, and was not\nsorry that she gave him an opportunity of suspending, by this means,\nthe execution of a vow he had made, never to keep a woman above one\nnight, and put her to death next day. His only thought was to see if\nhe could exhaust her store.\n\nWith this intention, the next morning he prevented Dinarzade, and\nawakened the sultaness himself, asking her if she was at the end of\nall her stories. --At the end of my stories, sir! replied the\nsultaness, surprised at the question, I am far from that and the\nnumber of them is so great, that I cannot tell your majesty how many\nI have yet left; but am afraid you will be sooner tired with\nhearing, than I with telling them.\n\nDo not let that fear disturb you, answered the sultan; but let us\nhear what you have now to tell me.\n\nThe sultaness Scheherazade, encouraged with these words, said, I\nhave often entertained your majesty with the adventures of the\nfamous caliph Haroun Alraschid, who had a great many in his time;\nbut, among the rest, I think none more worthy of your hearing than\nthe following:\n\n\n\n\nThe Adventures of the Caliph Haroun Alraschid.\n\n\nYour majesty cannot be insensible, but must have experienced, that\nwe are sometimes in such extraordinary transports of joy, that we\npresently communicate that passion to those about us, or easily\npartake of theirs; and sometimes our melancholy is so great, that we\nare insupportable to ourselves, and are so incapable of giving any\none a reason, that should ask it, that we cannot account for it\nourselves.\n\nThe caliph was one day in one of these latter fits, when his\nfaithful and favourite grand vizier Giafar came to him. That\nminister finding him alone, which was seldom the case, and\nperceiving as he came nearer to him, that he was in a very\nmelancholy humour, and never lifted up his eyes, he stopt till he\nwould vouchsafe to look at him.\n\nAt last the caliph cast his eyes upon Giafar, but presently turned\nthem away again, and remained in the same posture, motionless as\nbefore.\n\nThe grand vizier observing nothing in the caliph\u2019s eyes which\nregarded him personally, took the liberty to speak to him, and said,\nCommander of the faithful, will your majesty give me leave to ask\nwhence proceeds this melancholy, of which you always seemed to me so\nlittle susceptible?\n\nIndeed, vizier, answered the caliph, clearing up his countenance, I\nam very little subject to it, and had not perceived it but for you,\nand will remain no longer in it. If no new affair brought you\nhither, you will do me a pleasure by inventing something to dispel\nit.\n\nCommander of the faithful, replied the grand vizier, my duty obliged\nme to wait on you, and I take the liberty to remind your majesty,\nthat this is the day which you have appointed to inform yourself of\nthe good government of your capital and its environs; and this\noccasion very opportunely presents itself to dispel those clouds\nwhich obscure your natural gaiety.\n\nYou do well to remind me, replied the caliph, for I had entirely\nforgotten it: go and change your dress, while I do the same.\n\nThey each put on the habit of a foreign merchant, and under that\ndisguise went out by a private door of the palace-garden, which led\ninto the fields. After they had gone round the outside of the city\nto the banks of the Euphrates, at a sufficient distance from the\ncity gate, on that side, without having observed any thing\ndisorderly, they crossed the river in the first boat they met with,\nand making another tour on the other side, came over the bridge,\nwhich formed the communication betwixt the two parts of the town.\n\nAt the foot of the bridge they met with an old blind man, who asked\nalms of them; the caliph turned about, and put a piece of gold into\nhis hand. The blind man presently caught hold of his hand, and\nstopped him. Charitable person, said he, whoever you are, whom God\nhath inspired to bestow alms on me, do not refuse the favour I ask\nyou, to give me a box on the ear, for I deserve that and a greater\npunishment. After these words, he let the caliph\u2019s hand go, that\nhe might strike, but, for fear he should pass on without doing it,\nheld him fast by his clothes.\n\nThe caliph, surprised both at the request and action of the blind\nman, said, I cannot acquiesce with your request. I will not lessen\nthe merit of my charity, by treating you as you would have me. After\nthese words, he endeavoured to get away from the blind man.\n\nThe blind man, who expected this reluctance of his benefactor, by\nthe long experience he had, exerted himself to hold him. Sir, said\nhe, forgive my boldness and importunity; I desire you would either\ngive me a box on the ear, or take your alms back again, for I cannot\nreceive it but on that condition, without breaking a solemn oath\nwhich I have sworn to God; and if you knew the reason, you would\nagree with me, that the punishment is very slight.\n\nThe caliph, not caring to be detained any longer, yielding to the\nimportunity of the blind man, gave him a very slight blow: whereupon\nhe immediately let him go, and thanked and blessed him. When the\ncaliph and vizier had got some small distance from the blind man,\nthe caliph said to the vizier, This blind man must certainly have\nsome very substantial reasons, which make him behave himself in this\nmanner to all who give him alms. I should be glad to know them;\ntherefore return and tell him who I am, and bid him not fail to come\nto my palace about prayer-time in the afternoon, that I may have\nsome talk with him.\n\nThe grand vizier went back, bestowed his alms on the blind man, and\nafter he had given him a box on the ear, told him the caliph\u2019s\norder, and then returned again to the caliph.\n\nWhen they came into the town, they found in a square a great\nconcourse of spectators, looking at a handsome well-shaped young\nman, who was mounted on a mare, which he rode full speed round the\nplace, spurring and whipping the poor creature so barbarously, that\nshe was all over sweat and blood.\n\nThe caliph, amazed at the inhumanity of the young man, stopped to\nask the people if they knew why he used the mare so ill; but could\nlearn nothing, except that for some time past he had every day, at\nthe same hour, treated her after the same manner.\n\nAs they went along, the caliph bid the grand vizier take particular\nnotice of the place, and not fail to order the young man to come the\nnext day, at the hour appointed to the blind man. But before the\ncaliph got to his palace, he observed in a street, which he had not\npassed through a long time before, an edifice newly built, which\nseemed to him to be the palace of some of the great lords of the\ncourt. He asked the grand vizier if he knew to whom it belonged; who\nanswered he did not, but would inquire; and thereupon asked a\nneighbour, who told him that the house was one Cogia Hassan\u2019s,\nsurnamed Alhabbal, upon account of his profession of rope-making,\nwhich he had seen him work at himself, when poor, and that without\nknowing how fortune had favoured him, he had got such great wealth,\nthat he defrayed honourably and splendidly the expenses he had been\nat in building.\n\nThe grand vizier rejoined the caliph, and gave him a full account of\nwhat he had heard. I must see this Cogia Hassan Alhabbal, said the\ncaliph, therefore go and tell him, vizier, to come to my palace, at\nthe same hour you have ordered the other two. Accordingly the vizier\nobeyed.\n\nThe next day, after afternoon prayers, the caliph retired to his own\napartment, and the grand vizier introduced the three persons we have\nbeen speaking of, and presented them to the caliph.\n\nThey all three prostrated themselves before the caliph, and when\nthey rose up again, the caliph asked the blind man his name, who\nanswered, it was Baba Abdalla.\n\nBaba Abdalla, replied the caliph, your manner of asking alms seemed\nso strange to me yesterday, that if it had not been for some certain\nconsiderations, I should not have complied with your request, but\nshould have prevented you from giving any more offence to the\npublic. I ordered you to come hither, to know from yourself what\ninduced you to make that indiscreet oath you have told me of, that I\nmay judge whether you have done well, and if I ought to suffer you\nto continue a practice that appears to me to set so ill an example.\nTell me freely how so extravagant a thought came into your head, and\ndo not disguise any thing from me, for I will absolutely know the\ntruth.\n\nBaba Abdalla, intimidated by this reprimand, cast himself a second\ntime at the foot of the caliph\u2019s throne, with his face to the\nground, and when he rose up again, said, Commander of the faithful,\nI most humbly ask your majesty\u2019s pardon for my boldness, in daring\nto require, and almost force you to do a thing which indeed appears\nso contrary to reason. I acknowledge my crime; but as I did not then\nknow your majesty, I implore your clemency, and hope you will\nconsider my ignorance.\n\nAs to the extravagance of my action, I own it, and that it must seem\nstrange to mankind; but in the eye of God it is a very slight\npenance I have enjoined myself, for an enormous crime I am guilty\nof, and for which, if all the people in the world were each to give\nme a box on the ear, it would not be a sufficient atonement. Your\nmajesty will judge of it yourself, when, in telling my story, in\nobedience to your commands, I shall let you know what that heinous\ncrime was.\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of the Blind Man Baba Abdalla.\n\n\nCommander of the faithful, continued Baba Abdalla, I was born at\nBagdad, and had a pretty fortune left me by my father and mother,\nwho died a few days after each other. Though I was then but very\nyoung, I did not squander away my fortune as most young men do, in\nidle expenses and debauchery; on the contrary, I neglected no\nopportunity to increase it by my industry. At last I became rich\nenough to purchase fourscore camels, which I let out to merchants\nfor caravans, who paid me well for every journey I went with them\nthroughout the extent of your majesty\u2019s dominions.\n\nIn the midst of this happiness, and with an ardent desire of growing\nmuch richer, as I was returning one day with my camels unloaded from\nBalsora, whither I had carried some merchandises that were to be\nembarked for the Indies, I met with good pasturage, at some distance\nfrom any habitation; made a halt there, and let them graze for some\ntime. While I was seated, a dervise, who was walking to Balsora,\ncame and sat down by me to rest himself. I asked him from whence he\ncame, and where he was going, and he put the same questions to me;\nand when we had satisfied each other\u2019s curiosity, we produced our\nprovisions and eat together.\n\nDuring our repast, after we had talked of many indifferent things,\nthe dervise told me that he knew of a treasure a small distance from\nthence, where there were such immense riches, that if all my\nfourscore camels were loaded with gold and jewels that might be\ntaken from it, it would not seem as if any thing had been taken away.\n\nThis good news surprised and charmed me at the same time; and I was\nso overjoyed, that I could scarce contain myself. I could not\nbelieve that the dervise was capable of telling me a falsity;\ntherefore I fell upon his neck, and said, Good dervise, I know you\nvalue not the riches of this world, therefore what service can the\nknowledge of this treasure be to you? You are alone, and cannot\ncarry much of it away with you; show me where it is; I will load all\nmy camels, and as an acknowledgement of the favour done me, will\npresent you with one of them.\n\nIndeed I offered very little, but after he had communicated that\nsecret to me, my desire of riches was become so violent, that I\nthought it a great deal, and looked upon the seventy-nine camel\nloads which I reserved for myself, as nothing in comparison of what\nI allowed him.\n\nThe dervise, though he saw my avarice, was not however angry at the\nunreasonable offer I had made him, but replied, without the least\nconcern, You are sensible, brother, that what you offer me is not\nproportionable to the kindness you ask of me. I might have chosen\nwhether I would communicate my secret to you, and have kept the\ntreasure to myself: but what I have told you is sufficient to show\nyou my good intentions, and that it is still in my power to oblige\nyou, and make you remember me, by making both our fortunes. I have\nanother proposition more just and equitable to make to you; it lies\nin your own breast whether or no you will agree to it.\n\nYou say, continued the dervise, that you have fourscore camels: I am\nready to carry you to the place where the treasure lies, and we will\nload them with as much jewels and gold as they can well carry, on\ncondition, that when they are so loaded, you will let me have one\nhalf, and you take the other; after which we will separate, and\ncarry our camels where we think fit. You see there is nothing but\nwhat is strictly equitable in this division; for if you give me\nforty camels, you will get by my means wherewithal to purchase\nthousands more.\n\nI could not but agree there was a great deal of justice in what the\ndervise said: but, without considering what riches I should gain in\naccepting of the condition he proposed, I could not without\nreluctance think of parting with my forty camels, especially when I\nconsidered that the dervise would then be as rich as myself, and\nthat I was beforehand making an ungrateful return for a favour,\npurely gratuitous, which I had not yet received from the dervise.\nBut there was no time to hesitate; I must either accept of the\nproposal, or resolve to repent all my lifetime after of losing, by\nmy own fault, an opportunity of obtaining a great fortune. That\ninstant I went and collected all my camels; and after we had\ntravelled some time, we came into a large spacious valley, the\nentrance into which was so narrow, that two camels could not go\nabreast. The two mountains which formed this valley terminated in a\nsemicircle, but were so high, craggy, and impracticable, that there\nwas no fear of being seen by any one.\n\nWhen we came between these two mountains, the dervise said to me,\nStop your camels, and make them lie down, that we may load them the\neasier, and I will proceed to discover the treasure.\n\nI did as the dervise bid me; and going to him soon after, found him\nwith a match in one hand, gathering sticks to light a fire; which he\nhad no sooner done, than he cast some incense into it, and\npronouncing certain words, which I did not understand, there\npresently arose a thick cloud. He divided this cloud, when the rock,\nthough of a prodigious perpendicular height, opened like two\nfolding-doors, and exposed to view a magnificent palace in the\nhollow of the mountain, which seemed to be rather the workmanship of\ngenies than men; for no man could ever have thought of such a bold\nand surprising work.\n\nBut this, I must tell your majesty, was an after-thought, which did\nnot occur to me at the moment. I did not even stop to admire the\nimmense riches which I saw on all sides; and, without staying to\nobserve the just regularity in which the treasures were ranged, like\nan eagle seizing her prey, I fell upon the first heap of golden\nmoney that I was near to, and began to fill the sack I had in my\nhand as full as I could carry it. The sacks were all large, and with\nmy good-will I would have filled them all; but I was obliged to\nproportion my burden to the strength of my camels. The dervise did\nthe same; but I perceived he paid more attention to the jewels, and\nas he told me the reason, I followed his example, and we took away\nmuch more jewels than gold --When we had filled our sacks, and\nloaded our camels, we had nothing left to do but to shut up the\ntreasure, and go our way.\n\nBut before we parted, the dervise went again into the treasury,\nwhere there were a great many wrought vessels of gold of different\nshapes and materials. I observed that he took out of one of these\nvessels a little box of a certain wood, which I knew not, and put it\ninto his breast; but first showed me that it contained only a kind\nof pomatum.\n\nThe dervise used the same ceremony to shut the treasury as he had\ndone to open it; and after he pronounced some certain words, the\ndoors of the treasury shut again, and the rock seemed as whole and\nentire as before.\n\nThen we divided our camels. I put myself at the head of the forty\nwhich I reserved for myself, and the dervise at the head of the rest\nwhich I had given him. We came out of the valley by the same way we\nwent in, and travelled together till we came to the great road,\nwhere we were to part; the dervise to go to Balsora, and I to\nBagdad. To thank him for so great a kindness, I made use of the most\nexpressive terms, testifying my gratitude for the preference he had\ngiven me before all other men, in letting me have a share of such\nriches. We embraced each other with great joy, and taking our leave,\nwent our different ways.\n\nI had not gone many paces to overtake my camels, which went on the\ntrack I put them into, before the demon of ingratitude and envy took\npossession of my heart, and I deplored the loss of my forty camels,\nand much more the riches wherewith they were loaded. The dervise,\nsaid I to myself, has no occasion for all these riches; he is master\nof the treasure, and may have as much as he pleases. So I gave\nmyself up to the blackest ingratitude, and determined immediately to\ntake the camels with their loading from him.\n\nTo execute this design, I first stopped my own camels, and\nafterwards ran after the dervise, and called to him as loud as I\ncould, giving him to understand that I had something material to say\nto him, and made a sign to him to stop his, and stay for me; which\nhe accordingly did.\n\nWhen I came up to him, I said, Brother, I had no sooner parted from\nyou, but a thought came into my head, which neither of us had\nreflected on before. You are a good dervise, used to live in\ntranquillity, disengaged from all the cares of the world, and intent\nonly upon serving God. You know not, perhaps, what trouble you have\ntaken upon yourself, to take care of so many camels. If you would\ntake my advice, you would keep but thirty; you will find them\nsufficiently troublesome to manage. Take my word; I have had\nexperience.\n\nI believe you are right, replied the dervise, who found he was not\nable to contend with me; I own I never thought of it. I begin\nalready to be uneasy at what you have represented to me. Choose\nwhich ten you please, and take them, and go on in God\u2019s keeping.\n\nI set ten apart; and after I had driven them off, I put them in the\nroad to follow my others. I could not have imagined that the dervise\nwould be so easily persuaded to part with his camels, which\nincreased my covetousness, and made me flatter myself that it would\nbe no hard matter to get ten more. Wherefore, instead of thanking\nhim for his present, I said to him again, Brother, the interest I\ntake in your repose is so great, that I cannot resolve to part with\nyou without desiring you to consider once more how difficult a thing\nit is to govern thirty loaded camels, especially for you, who are\nnot used to such work; you will find it much better to return me as\nmany more back as you have done already. What I tell you is not for\nmy own sake and interest, but to do you the greater pleasure. Ease\nyourself then of the camels, and leave them to me, who can manage a\nhundred as well as one.\n\nMy discourse had the desired effect upon the dervise, who gave me,\nwithout any hesitation, the other ten camels; so that he had but\ntwenty left, and I was master of sixty, and might boast of greater\nriches than many sovereign princes. Any one would have thought I\nshould now have been content; but, as a person afflicted with a\ndropsy, the more he drinks the more thirsty he is, so I became more\ngreedy and desirous of the other twenty camels.\n\nI redoubled my solicitations, prayers, and importunities, to make\nthe dervise condescend to grant me ten of the twenty, which he did\nwith a good grace; and as to the other ten he had left, I embraced\nhim, kissed him, and caressed him, conjuring him not to refuse me,\nbut to complete the obligation I should ever have to him, so that he\ncrowned my joy by giving me them also. Make a good use of them,\nbrother, said the dervise: and remember that God can take away\nriches as well as give them, if we do not assist the poor, whom he\nreduces to their situation on purpose that the rich may merit by\ntheir charity a greater recompense in the other world.\n\nMy blindness was so great that I could not profit by so wholesome\nadvice. I was not content, though I had my forty camels again, and\nknew they were loaded with an inestimable treasure. But a thought\ncame into my head, that the little box of pomatum which the dervise\nshowed me had something in it more precious than all the riches\nwhich I was obliged to him for. The place from whence the dervise\ntook it, said I to myself, and his care to secure it, makes me\nbelieve there is something mysterious in it. This determined me to\ndo something to obtain it. I had just embraced him, and bade him\nadieu; and as I turned about from him, I said, What will you do with\nthat little box of pomatum? It seems such a trifle, said I, it is\nnot worth your carrying away. I entreat you to make me a present of\nit; for what occasion has a dervise, as you are, who has renounced\nthe vanities of the world, for pomatum?\n\nWould to heaven he had refused me that box! But if he had, I was\nstronger than him, and was resolved to have taken it from him by\nforce; that for my complete satisfaction it might not be said he had\ncarried away the smallest part of the treasure.\n\nThe dervise, far from denying me, presently pulled it out of his\nbosom, and presenting it to me with the best grace in the world,\nsaid, Here, take it, brother, and be content: if I could do more for\nyou, you needed but to have asked for it; I am ready to satisfy you.\n\nWhen I had the box in my hand, I opened it, and looking at the\npomatum, said to him, Since you are so good, I am sure you will not\nrefuse me this one favour, to tell me the particular use of this\npomatum.\n\nThe use is very surprising and wonderful, replied the dervise: if\nyou apply a little of this pomatum round the left eye, and upon the\nlid, you will see all the treasures contained in the bosom of the\nearth; but if you apply it to the right eye, it will make you blind.\n\nI would make the experiment myself: Take the box, said I to the\ndervise, and apply some of this pomatum to my left eye; you\nunderstand now to do it better than I, for I long to experience what\nseems so incredible to me. Accordingly, I shut my left eye, and the\ndervise took the trouble to apply the pomatum. When he had done, I\nopened my eye, and was convinced he had told me truth. I saw immense\ntreasures, and such prodigious riches, so diversified, that it is\nimpossible for me to give an account of them; but as I was obliged\nto keep my right eye shut with my hand, and that tired me, I desired\nthe dervise to apply some of the pomatum to that eye.\n\nI am ready to do it, said the dervise; but you must remember what I\ntold you, that if you put any of it upon your right eye, you would\nimmediately be blind; such is the virtue of the pomatum.\n\nFar from being persuaded of the truth of what the dervise said, I\nimagined, on the contrary, that there was some new mystery which he\nmeant to hide from me. Brother, replied I, smiling, I see plainly\nyou wish to mislead me: it is not natural that this pomatum should\nhave two such contrary effects.\n\nThe thing is as I tell you, replied the dervise, taking the name of\nGod to bear witness; you ought to believe me, for I cannot disguise\nthe truth.\n\nI would not believe the dervise, who spoke like an honest man. My\ninsurmountable desire of seeing at my ease all the treasures in the\nworld, and perhaps of enjoying that pleasure as often as I had a\nmind, had such an effect upon me, that I could not hearken to his\nremonstrances, nor be persuaded of what was, however, but too true,\nas to my great misfortune I soon experienced.\n\nI persuaded myself that if that pomatum, by being applied to the\nleft eye, had the virtue of showing me all the treasures of the\nearth, by being applied to the right, it might have the power of\nputting them in my disposal. Possessed with this thought, I\nobstinately pressed the dervise to apply the pomatum to my right\neye; but he as positively refused me. Brother, said he, after I have\ndone you so much service, I cannot resolve to do you so great an\ninjury: consider with yourself what a misfortune it is to be\ndeprived of one\u2019s eye-sight; do not reduce me to the hard\nnecessity of obliging you in a thing which you will repent of all\nyour life after.\n\nI persisted in my obstinacy, and said to him, in strong terms,\nBrother, I earnestly desire you to lay aside all the difficulties\nyou start. You have granted me most generously all that I have asked\nof you hitherto, and would you have me go away dissatisfied with you\nat last about a thing of so little consequence? For God\u2019s sake,\ngrant me this last favour: whatever happens, I will not lay the\nblame on you, but take it upon myself alone.\n\nThe dervise made all the resistance possible; but seeing that I was\nable to force him to do it, he said, Since you will absolutely have\nit so, I will satisfy you; and thereupon he took a little of the\nfatal pomatum, and applied it to my right eye, which I kept shut;\nbut, alas! when I came to open it, I could distinguish nothing with\neither eye but thick darkness, and became blind as you see me now.\n\nAh! dervise, cried I that moment, what you foretold me is but too\ntrue. Fatal curiosity! added I, insatiable desire of riches! into\nwhat an abyss of miseries have you cast me! I am now sensible what a\nmisfortune I have brought upon myself; but you, dear brother, cried\nI, addressing myself to the dervise, who are so charitable and good,\namong the many wonderful secrets you are acquainted with, have you\nnot one to restore to me my sight again?\n\nMiserable wretch! answered the dervise, if you would have been\nadvised by me, you would have avoided this misfortune, but you have\nyour deserts; the blindness of your mind was the cause of the loss\nof your eyes. It is true I have secrets, and you, in the little time\nI have been with you, might know I have; but I have none to restore\nyou to your sight. Pray to God, if you believe there is one; it is\nHe alone that can restore it to you. He gave you riches, of which\nyou were unworthy, and takes them from you again, and will, by my\nhands, give them to men not so ungrateful as you.\n\nThe dervise said no more, and I had nothing to reply. He left me to\nmyself, overwhelmed with confusion, and plunged in inexpressible\ngrief. After he had collected my camels, he carried them away, and\npursued the road to Balsora.\n\nI desired him not to leave me in that miserable condition, but to\nconduct me at least to the first caravan; but he was deaf to my\nprayers and entreaties. Thus, deprived of sight, and all I had in\nthe world, I should have died with affliction and hunger, if the\nnext day a caravan returning from Balsora had not received me\ncharitably, and brought me back to Bagdad.\n\nAfter this manner was I reduced without remedy from a condition\nworthy the envy of princes for riches and magnificence, though not\nfor power, to beggary without resource. I had no other way to\nsubsist, but must resolve to ask charity, which I have done till\nnow. But to expiate my offence against God, I enjoined myself, by\nway of penance, a box on the ear from every charitable person that\nshould commiserate my condition.\n\nThis, commander of the faithful, is the motive which seemed so\nstrange to your majesty yesterday, and for which I ought to incur\nyour indignation. I ask your pardon once more as your slave, and\nsubmit to receive the chastisement I deserve. And if you vouchsafe\nto pronounce any thing on the penance I have imposed upon myself, I\nam ready to undergo it, since I am persuaded you think it too slight\nand much too little for my crime.\n\nWhen the blind man had made an end of his story, the caliph said,\nBaba Abdalla, your sin is great; but God be praised, you know both\nthe enormity of that; and your penance --It is enough. You must\ncontinue it henceforth, not ceasing to ask of God pardon for it in\nevery prayer your religion obliges you to say daily; and that you\nmay not be prevented by the care of getting your living, I will\nsettle a charity on you during your life of four silver drachmas a\nday, which my grand vizier shall give you; therefore do not go away,\nbut wait till he has executed my orders.\n\nAt these words, Baba Abdalla prostrated himself before the\ncaliph\u2019s throne, and rising up, returned him thanks, and wished\nhim all happiness and prosperity.\n\nThe caliph Haroun Alraschid, very well satisfied with the story of\nBaba Abdalla and the dervise, addressed himself to the young man who\nused his mare so ill, and asked him his name; to which he replied,\nit was Sidi Nonman. [99]\n\nSidi Nonman, then, said the caliph, I have seen horses exercised all\nmy life, and have often exercised them myself, but never after so\nbarbarous a manner as you yesterday treated your mare in the full\nsquare, to the great offence of all the spectators, who murmured\nloudly at it. I myself was not less displeased, and had like,\ncontrary to my intention, to have discovered who I was, to have\nremedied that disorder. By your air and behaviour you do not seem to\nbe a barbarous and cruel man; and therefore I would fain believe\nthat you had reason for what you did, since I am informed that this\nwas not the first time, but that you practise the same thing every\nday. I would know what is the cause, and sent for you for that\npurpose, that you should tell me the truth, and disguise nothing\nfrom me.\n\nSidi Nonman soon understood what the caliph demanded of him. The\nrelation was painful to him. He changed colour several times, and\ncould not help showing how greatly he was embarrassed. However, he\nmust resolve to tell his story; but before he spoke, he prostrated\nhimself before the caliph\u2019s throne, and after he rose up again,\nendeavoured to speak, to satisfy the caliph, but was so confounded,\nnot so much at the presence of the caliph, as by the nature of his\nrelation, that he was speechless.\n\nThe caliph, notwithstanding his natural impatience to be obeyed,\nshowed not the least anger at Sidi Nonman\u2019s silence: he saw\nplainly, that he either had not assurance to speak before him, or\nwas intimidated by the tone of his voice; or, in short, that there\nwas something to be concealed in his story.\n\nSidi Nonman, said the caliph, to encourage him, recollect yourself;\nbut tell your story as if you were speaking, not to me, but to your\nmost familiar friend. If there is any thing in your relation which\ntroubles you, and you think I may be offended at it, I pardon you\nnow: therefore be not uneasy, but speak boldly and freely, and\ndisguise nothing.\n\nSidi Nonman, encouraged by these last words of the caliph, said,\nCommander of the faithful, whatever apprehensions a man may be under\nat your majesty\u2019s presence, I am sensible that respectful\napprehension would not deprive me of the use of my speech, so as to\nfail in my obedience to you, in giving you satisfaction in any other\nmatter but this you now ask of me. I dare not say I am the most\nperfect of men; yet I am not wicked enough to have committed, or to\nhave had an intention of committing any thing against the laws, to\nfear their severity; and yet I cannot say I am exempt from sin\nthrough ignorance. In this case I do not say that I depend upon your\nmajesty\u2019s pardon, but will submit myself to your justice, and\nreceive the punishment I deserve. I own that the manner in which I\nhave for some time treated my mare, and which your majesty was\nwitness of, is strange and cruel, and sets an ill example: but I\nhope you will think the motive well grounded, and that I am more\nworthy of compassion than chastisement: but not to keep your majesty\nany longer in suspense by a long preamble, I will tell you my story.\n\n[Illustration: BABA ABDALLAH PUNISHED.]\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of Sidi Nonman.\n\n\nCommander of the faithful, said Sidi Nonman, I shall not trouble\nyour majesty with my birth, which is not illustrious enough to merit\nyour attention. For my fortune, my parents, by their good economy,\nleft me enough to live on like an honest man, free from ambition, or\nbeing burdensome to any one.\n\nWith these advantages, the only thing that I wanted to render my\nhappiness complete, was an amiable wife, who might share them with\nme; but that was a blessing it did not please God to grant me: on\nthe contrary, it was my misfortune to have one, who, the very next\nday after our wedding, began to exercise my patience in a manner not\nto be conceived by any one that has not had the same trial.\n\nAs it is a custom for us to marry without seeing or knowing whom we\nare to marry, your majesty is sensible that a husband has no reason\nto complain, when he finds that the wife that has been chosen for\nhim, is not horribly ugly and deformed, and that her carriage, wit,\nand behaviour, make amends for any slight imperfections of the body.\n\nThe first time I saw my wife with her face uncovered, after she was\nbrought home with the usual ceremonies to my house, I rejoiced to\nfind that I had not been imposed upon in the description of her\nperson, which pleased me, and she was perfectly agreeable to my\ninclination.\n\nThe next day after our wedding, when our dinner was served up, which\nconsisted of several dishes, I went into the room where the cloth\nwas laid, and not finding my wife there, ordered her to be called.\nAfter making me wait a long time, at last she came. I dissembled my\nimpatience, and we sat down to table, and I began with the rice,\nwhich I took up with a spoon, as usual.\n\nOn the other hand, my wife, instead of making use of a spoon, as\nevery body does, pulled a little case out of her pocket, and took\nout of it a kind of ear-picker, with which she picked up the rice,\nand put it into her mouth, grain by grain.\n\nSurprised at this manner of eating, I said to her, Amina, which was\nher name, are you used to eat rice so in your family, or do you do\nit because you are a little eater, or would you count the grains,\nthat you may not eat more at one time than another? If you do it out\nof savingness, or to teach me not to be extravagant, you have no\nreason to fear that, and I can assure you we shall not ruin\nourselves that way. We have, God be thanked, enough to live at our\nease, without depriving ourselves of necessaries. Do not restrain\nyourself, my dear Amina, but eat as you see me eat. The kind manner\nin which I made these remonstrances might have produced some\nobliging answer; but she, without saying a word, continued to eat\nafter the same manner. At last, to make me the more uneasy, she ate\na grain of rice occasionally; and instead of eating any of the other\nmeats with me, she only now and then put some crumbs of bread into\nher mouth, but not so much as a sparrow would have eaten.\n\nI was very much provoked at her obstinacy; but yet, to indulge and\nexcuse her, I imagined that she had not been used to eat with men,\nmuch more with a husband, before whom she might perhaps have been\ntaught to restrain herself; but at the same time thought she carried\nit too far out of pure simplicity. I fancied again that she might\nhave breakfasted late, or that she might have a mind to eat alone,\nand more at liberty. These considerations prevented me from saying\nany more to her then, to ruffle her temper, or to show any sign of\ndissatisfaction. After dinner I left her, but not with an air that\nshowed any displeasure.\n\nAt supper she did the same thing; and the next day, and every time\nwe ate together, behaved herself after the same manner. I knew it\nwas impossible for a woman to live on so little food as she took,\nand that there was some mystery in it, which I did not understand.\nThis made me resolve to dissemble; I appeared to take no notice of\nher actions, in hopes that time would bring her to live with me as I\ndesired she should. But my hopes were in vain, and it was not long\nbefore I was convinced they were so.\n\nOne night, when Amina thought me fast asleep, she got out of bed\nsoftly, dressed herself with great precaution, avoiding any noise\nfor fear of waking me. I could not comprehend what her design was,\nbut curiosity made me feign a sound sleep; and as soon as she had\ndressed herself, she went softly out of the room without making any\nnoise.\n\nAs soon as she was gone out, I got up, threw my gown over my\nshoulders, and had time enough to see by a window, that looked into\nmy court-yard, that she opened the street-door and went out.\n\nI ran presently down to the door, which she left half open, and\nfollowed her by moonlight, till I saw her go into a burying-ground\njust by our house. I got to the end of the wall, taking care not to\nbe seen, and looking over, saw Amina with a goule.\n\nYour majesty knows that the goules of both sexes are wandering\ndemons, which generally infest old buildings; from whence they rush\nout, by surprise, on people that pass by, kill them, and eat their\nflesh; and for want of such prey, will sometimes go in the night\ninto burying-grounds, and feed upon dead bodies, which they dig up.\n\nI was in a terrible surprise to see my wife with this goule. They\ndug up a dead body which had been buried but that day, and the goule\ncut off pieces of the flesh, which they ate together by the\ngrave-side, conversing together very quietly during their cruel and\ninhuman repast. But I was too far off to hear their discourse, which\nmust have been as strange as their repast, the remembrance of which\nstill makes me shudder.\n\nWhen they had made an end of this horrible feast, they threw the\ndead body into the grave again, and filled it up with the earth they\nhad dug out. I left them at their work, and made haste home, and\nleaving the door half open, as I found it, went into my chamber, and\nto bed again, where I pretended to be fast asleep.\n\nSoon afterwards Amina returned without the least noise, undressed\nherself, and came to bed again, rejoiced, as I imagined, that she\nhad succeeded so well without being discovered.\n\nMy mind was so full of the idea of so barbarous and abominable an\naction as I had seen, that I felt a great reluctance to lie by a\nperson who had been guilty of it, and was a long time before I could\nfall asleep again. However. I got a short nap; but waked at the\nfirst call to public prayers at daybreak, got up, dressed myself,\nand went to the mosque.\n\nAfter prayers, I went out of the town, and spent the morning in\nwalking in the gardens, and thinking what I should do to oblige my\nwife to change her manner of life. I rejected all the violent\nmeasures that came into my thoughts, and I resolved to use all\ngentle means to cure that unhappy inclination of hers; and these\nthoughts brought me insensibly home by dinner-time.\n\nAs soon as Amina saw me come in, she ordered dinner to be served up;\nand as I saw she persisted in the same manner of eating rice by\nsingle grains, I said to her, with all the moderation possible, You\nknow, Amina, what reason I have to be surprised, when the next day\nafter our marriage I saw you eat rice in so small a quantity, and in\na manner which would have offended any other husband but me: you\nknow also, I contented myself with telling you, that I was uneasy at\nit, and desired you to eat of the other meats, which I ordered to be\ndressed several ways, to endeavour to suit your taste: and I am sure\nmy table did not want for variety: but all my remonstrances have had\nno effect upon you, and you persist in your old way. I have said\nnothing, because I would not constrain you, and should be sorry that\nany thing I now say should make you uneasy; but tell me, Amina, I\nconjure you, are not the meats served up at my table better than\ndead flesh?\n\nI had no sooner pronounced these last words, but Amina, who\nperceived that I had watched her last night, flew into a rage beyond\nimagination. Her face was as red as scarlet, her eyes ready to start\nout of her head, and she foamed with passion.\n\nThe terrible condition I saw her in frightened me so much, that I\nstood motionless, and was not able to defend myself against the\nhorrible wickedness she meditated against me, and which will\nsurprise your majesty. In the violence of her passion, she dipped\nher hand into a basin of water, which stood just by her, and\nmuttering between her teeth some words, which I could not hear, she\nthrew some water in my face, and said to me in a furious tone,\nWretch, receive the punishment of thy curiosity, and become a dog.\n\nNo sooner had Amina, whom I knew not to be a sorceress till then,\npronounced these diabolical words, but I was immediately changed\ninto a dog. My amazement and surprise at so sudden and unexpected a\nchange prevented my thinking at first of providing for my safety,\ntill she took up a great stick to beat me, with which she laid on\nsuch heavy blows, that I wonder they did not kill me. I thought to\nhave escaped her rage, by running into the yard: but she pursued me\nwith the same fury, and, notwithstanding all my activity, I could\nnot avoid her blows. At last, when she was tired of running after me\nand beating me, and in despair that she had not killed me, as she\ndesired, she thought of a new way to do it: she half opened the\nstreet-door, that she might squeeze me to death in it, as I ran out\nto preserve my life. Dog as I was, I presently perceived her\npernicious design; and as present danger inspires a presence of\nmind, to elude her vigilance I watched her face and motions so well,\nthat I took my opportunity, and passed through quick enough to save\nmy life and escape her malice, though she pinched the end of my tail.\n\nThe pain I felt made me cry out and howl as I ran along the streets,\nwhich brought all the dogs out upon me, and I got bit by several of\nthem; but to avoid their pursuit, I ran into the shop of a man who\nsold boiled sheep\u2019s heads, tongues, and feet, where I saved myself.\n\nThe man at first took my part with much compassion, by driving away\nthe dogs that followed me, and would have run into his house. My\nfirst care was to creep into a corner to hide myself; but I found\nnot the sanctuary and protection I hoped for. My host was one of\nthose extravagantly superstitious persons, who think dogs unclean\ncreatures, and if by chance one should happen to touch them in the\nstreets, cannot use soap and water enough to wash their garments\nclean. After the dogs who chased me were all dispersed and gone, he\ndid all he could to drive me out of his house that day; but I was\nhid, and out of his reach, and spent that night in his shop in spite\nof him; and indeed I had need of rest, to recover after Amina\u2019s\nill treatment.\n\nBut not to weary your majesty with trifling circumstances, I shall\nnot particularize the melancholy reflections I made on my\nmetamorphosis; but only tell you, that my host going out the next\nmorning to lay in a stock of sheep\u2019s heads, tongues, and trotters,\nwhen he returned he opened his shop, and while he was laying out his\ngoods, I crept out of my corner, and got among some other dogs of\nthe neighbourhood, who had followed my host by the scent of his\nmeat, and surrounded the shop, in expectation of having some thrown\nto them. I joined them, and put myself among them in a begging\nposture. My host observing me, and considering that I had eaten\nnothing while I lay in the shop, distinguished me from the rest, by\nthrowing me larger pieces of meat, and oftener than the other dogs.\nAfter he had given me as much as he thought fit, I looked at him\nearnestly, and wagged my tail, to show him I begged he would repeat\nhis favours. But he was inflexible, and opposed my entrance with a\nstick in his hand, and with so unkind a look, that I was forced to\ngo and seek a new habitation.\n\nSome houses farther I stopped at a baker\u2019s shop, who was of a\nlively gay temper, quite the reverse of the other man, who was eaten\nup with melancholy. He was then at breakfast, and though I made no\nsign that I asked for any thing, he threw me a bit of bread. Instead\nof catching it up greedily, as other dogs do, I looked at him,\nmoving my head and wagging my tail, to show my gratitude; at which\nhe was mightily pleased, and smiled. Though I was not hungry, I ate\nthe piece of bread to please him, and I ate slowly, to show him that\nit was out of respect to him. He observed this, and let me continue\nnear the shop. I sat down and turned myself to the street, to show\nhim I only then wanted his protection; which he not only granted,\nbut by his caresses encouraged me to come into the house. This I did\nin a way that showed it was with his leave. He was pleased, and\nshowed me a place where to lie, which I took possession of, and kept\nwhile I lived with him. I was always well treated; and whenever he\nbreakfasted, dined, or supped, I had my share of provisions; and,\nfor my part, I loved him, and was as faithful as gratitude required\nof me. I always had my eyes upon him, and he scarce stirred out of\ndoors, or went into the city on business, but I was at his heels. I\nwas the more exact, because I perceived my attention pleased him;\nfor whenever he went out, without giving me time to see him, he\nwould call Chance, which was the name he gave me.\n\nAt this name I used to spring from my place, jump, and caper, and\nrun before the door, and never cease fawning on him till he went\nout; and then I always either followed him, or ran before him,\nalways looking at him to show my joy.\n\nI had lived some time with this baker, when a woman came one day\ninto the shop to buy some bread, and giving my master a piece of bad\nmoney, among some good, he perceived it, returned it, and asked for\nanother.\n\nThe woman refused to take it again, and affirmed it to be good. The\nbaker maintained the contrary, and in the dispute told the woman he\nwas sure that the piece of money was so visibly false, that his dog\ncould distinguish it; upon which he called Chance, Chance, and I\njumped immediately on the counter, and the baker throwing the money\ndown before me, said, See, and tell me which of these pieces is bad!\nI looked over all the pieces of money, and then set my paw upon that\nwhich was bad, separated it from the rest, looking in my master\u2019s\nface to show it him.\n\nThe baker, who only called me to banter the woman, was very much\nsurprised to see me so immediately pitch upon the bad money. The\nwoman, thus convicted, had nothing to say for herself, but was\nobliged to give another piece instead of the bad one. As soon as she\nwas gone, my master called in some neighbours, and enlarged very\nmuch upon my capacity, telling them what had happened.\n\nThe neighbours all desired to make the experiment, and of all the\nbad money they showed me, mixed with good, there was not one on\nwhich I did not set my paw, and separate the bad money from the good.\n\nThe woman, for her part, was sure to tell every body she met what\nhad happened; insomuch that the fame of my skill in distinguishing\ngood money from bad was not only spread throughout the\nneighbourhood, but over all that part of the town, and insensibly\nthrough the whole city.\n\nI had business enough every day; for I was obliged to show my skill\nto all customers that came to buy bread of my master. In short, my\nreputation procured my master more business than he could manage,\nand brought him customers from the most distant parts of the town;\nand this run of business lasted so long, that my master owned to his\nfriends and neighbours, that I was a treasure to him.\n\nMy little knowledge made many people envy my master\u2019s good\nfortune, and lay traps to steal me away, which obliged him always to\nkeep me in his sight. One day a woman came out of curiosity to buy\nsome bread like the rest, and seeing me sit upon the counter, threw\ndown before me six pieces of money, among which was one that was\nbad. I separated it presently from the good, and setting my paw upon\nit, looked in the woman\u2019s face, as much as to say, is it not so?\nThe woman looking at me, replied, Yes, you are in the right; it is\nbad; and staying some time in the shop, to look at and admire me, at\nlast paid my master for his bread, and when she went out of the\nshop, made a sign, unknown to him, for me to follow her.\n\nI was always attentive to any means to deliver myself out of so\nstrange a metamorphosis, and had observed that the woman examined me\nwith an extraordinary attention. I imagined that she might know\nsomething of my misfortune, and the melancholy condition I was\nreduced to: however, I let her go, and contented myself with looking\nat her. After walking two or three steps, she turned about, and\nseeing that I only looked at her, without stirring out of my place,\nshe made me another sign to follow her.\n\nWithout deliberating any longer, and observing that my master the\nbaker was busy cleaning his oven to put bread into it, and did not\nmind me, I jumped off the counter, and followed the woman, who\nseemed overjoyed.\n\nAfter I had got some way, she stopped at a house, opened the door,\nand called to me to come in, saying, You will not repent following\nme. When I had got in, she shut the door, and carried me to her\nchamber, where I saw a beautiful young lady working embroidery. This\nlady, who was daughter to the charitable woman who had brought me\nfrom the baker\u2019s shop, was a very skilful magician, as I found\nafterwards.\n\nDaughter, said the mother, I have brought you the famous baker\u2019s\ndog, that can tell good money from bad. You know I gave you my\nthoughts on that matter when I first heard of him, and told you, I\nfancied he was a man changed into a dog by some wicked trick. To-day\nI bethought myself of going to buy some bread of that baker, and was\nmyself a witness of the wonders performed by this dog, who has made\nsuch extraordinary noise in Bagdad. What say you, daughter, am I\ndeceived in my conjecture? Mother, you are not, answered the\ndaughter, and I will make it appear so.\n\nThe young lady immediately got up, put her hand into a basin of\nwater, and throwing some upon me, said, If thou wert born a dog,\nremain so; but if thou wert born a man, resume thy former shape by\nthe virtue of this water. At that instant the enchantment was\nbroken, and I became a man as before.\n\nPenetrated with the greatness of this kindness, I threw myself at my\ndeliverer\u2019s feet; and after I had kissed the hem of her garment, I\nsaid, My dear deliverer, I am so sensible of your exceeding and\nunparalleled goodness towards a stranger, as I am, that I beg of you\nto tell me yourself what I shall do to show my gratitude; or rather\ndispose of me as a slave, to whom you have a just right, since I am\nno more my own, but entirely yours: and that you may know who I am,\nI will tell you my story in as few words as possible.\n\nAfter I had told her who I was, I gave her an account of my marriage\nwith Amina, of the complaisance I showed her, my patience in bearing\nwith her humour, her extraordinary behaviour, and the indignity with\nwhich she treated me out of inconceivable wickedness, and finished\nmy story with my transformation, and thanking her mother for the\ninexpressible happiness she had procured me.\n\nSidi Nonman, said the daughter to me, let us not talk of the\nobligation you say you owe me; it is enough for me that I have done\nany service to so honest a man as you are. But let us talk a little\nof Amina your wife. I was acquainted with her before your marriage;\nand as I know her to be a magician, she also is sensible that I have\nsome knowledge of that art, since we both learnt it of the same\nmistress. We often meet at the baths, but as our tempers are\ndifferent, I avoid all opportunities of contracting an intimacy with\nher, which is no difficult matter, as she does the same by me. I am\nnot at all surprised at her wickedness; but what I have already done\nfor you is not sufficient; I will complete what I have begun. It is\nnot enough to have broken the enchantment by which she has excluded\nyou from the society of men. You must punish her as she deserves, by\ngoing home again, and assuming the authority which belongs to you. I\nwill give you the proper means. Converse a little with my mother\ntill I come back.\n\nMy deliveress went into a closet and while she was there, I repeated\nmy obligation to the mother as well as daughter. She said to me, You\nsee my daughter has as great skill in the magic art as Amina; but\nmakes so good a use of it, that you would be surprised to know the\ngood she has done, and daily does with it. This induces me to let\nher practise it; for I should not permit her, if I perceived she\nmade an ill use of it in the smallest instance.\n\nThe mother began to relate some of the wonders she had seen her do,\nwhen she came into the room again, with a little bottle in her hand.\nSidi Nonman, said she, my books, which I have been consulting, tell\nme that Amina is now abroad, but will be at home presently. They\nalso inform me, she pretended before your servants to be very uneasy\nat your absence, and made them believe, that at dinner you\nrecollected some business which obliged you to go out again\nimmediately; that as you went out, you left the door open, and a dog\ncame into the hall where she was at dinner, and she beat him out\nwith a great stick.\n\nTake this little bottle and go home immediately, and wait in your\nown chamber till she comes in, which will not be long. As soon as\nshe comes home, run down into the yard, and meet her face to face.\nIn her surprise to see you return so unexpectedly, she will turn her\nback to run away; then be sure to have the bottle ready, and throw\nsome of the liquor it contains upon her, pronouncing at the same\ntime these words boldly: Receive the chastisement of thy wickedness.\nI will tell you no more; you will see the effect.\n\nAfter these words I took my leave of my benefactress and her mother,\nwith all the testimonies of the most perfect gratitude, and a\nsincere protestation never to forget my obligation to them; and then\nwent home.\n\nAll things happened as the young magician foretold. Amina was not\nlong before she came home. As she came up the yard, I met her with\nthe water in my hand. As soon as she saw me, she shrieked out; and\nas she turned about to run to the door, I threw the liquor upon her,\npronouncing the words which the young magician taught me, and she\nwas instantly changed into the same mare which your majesty saw me\nupon yesterday.\n\nAt that instant, in the surprise she was in, I seized her by the\nmane, and notwithstanding her resistance, led her into the stable,\nwhere I put an halter upon her head, and when I had tied her to the\nrack, reproaching her with her baseness, I chastised her with a whip\ntill I was tired, and punished her every day since after the same\nmanner. I hope, commander of the faithful, continued Sidi Nonman,\nmaking an end of his story, your majesty will not disapprove of my\nconduct, and will think I have shown so wicked and pernicious a\nwoman more indulgence than she deserved.\n\nWhen the caliph found that Sidi Nonman had no more to say, he said\nto him, Your story is very singular, and the wickedness of your wife\ninexcusable; therefore I do not absolutely condemn the chastisement\nyou have hitherto given her; but I would have you consider now great\na punishment it is to be reduced to the condition of beasts, and\nwish you would be content with that chastisement. I would order you\nto go and address yourself to the young magician, to wave the\nenchantment and metamorphosis she has inflicted, but that I know the\nobstinacy and incorrigible cruelty of magicians of both sexes, who\nabuse their art; and were I not apprehensive that the second effect\nof your wife\u2019s revenge would be more violent than the first.\n\nThe caliph, who was naturally mild and compassionate to all\nsufferers, after he had declared his mind to Sidi Nonman, addressed\nhimself to the third person the grand vizier Giafar had summoned to\nattend him. Cogia Hassan, said he, passing yesterday by your house,\nit seemed so magnificent that I had a curiosity to know to whom it\nbelonged, and was told that you, whose trade is so mean that a man\ncan scarce get his bread by it, have built this house after you had\nfollowed this trade some years. I was likewise informed that you\nmake a good use of the riches God has blessed you with, and your\nneighbours speak well of you.\n\nAll this pleases me well, added the caliph, and I am persuaded that\nthe means by which Providence has been pleased to bestow these gifts\non you must have been very extraordinary. I am curious to know them\nfrom your own mouth, and sent for you on purpose to have that\nsatisfaction. Speak sincerely, that when I know your story, I may\nrejoice in your good fortune.\n\nBut that you may not suspect my curiosity, and believe that I have\nany other interest than what I tell you, I declare, that far from\nhaving any pretensions, I give you my word you shall enjoy freely\nall you have got.\n\nOn these assurances of the caliph, Cogia Hassan prostrated himself\nbefore his throne, with his forehead down to the carpet, and when he\nrose up again, said, Commander of the faithful, any other person but\nmyself might have been alarmed at having been summoned to appear\nbefore your majesty; but knowing that my conscience was clear, and\nthat I had committed nothing against the law, nor your majesty, but,\non the contrary, had always the most respectful sentiments and the\nprofoundest veneration for your person, my only fear was, that I\nshould not be able to support the lustre of your throne. But\nnevertheless, on the public report of your majesty\u2019s receiving\nfavourably, and hearing the meanest of your subjects, I took\ncourage, and never doubted but I should have confidence enough to\ngive you all the satisfaction you should require of me. Besides,\nyour majesty has given me a proof of your goodness, by granting me\nyour protection before you know whether I deserve it. Nevertheless,\nI hope you will retain the advantageous sentiments you have of me,\nwhen, in obedience to your command, I shall relate my adventures to\nyou.\n\nAfter this little compliment to conciliate the caliph\u2019s good will\nand attention, and after some moments\u2019 recollection, Cogia Hassan\nresumed his discourse in the following manner:\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of Cogia Hassan Alhabbal.\n\n\nCommander of the faithful, said he, that your majesty may the better\nunderstand by what means I arrived at the happiness I now enjoy, I\nought to acquaint you, there are two intimate friends, citizens of\nBagdad, now alive, who can testify the truth of what I shall tell\nyou, and to whom, after God, the author of all good, I owe my\nprosperity.\n\nThese two friends are called, the one Saadi, the other Saad. Saadi,\nwho is very rich, was always of opinion, that no man could be happy\nin this world without great riches, to live independent of every one.\n\nSaad was of another opinion; he agreed that riches were necessary in\nlife, but maintained that the happiness of a man\u2019s life consisted\nin virtue, without any farther attachment to worldly goods than what\nwere necessary in life, and to do good withal.\n\nSaad himself is one of this number, and lives very happily and\ncontented in his station; and though Saadi is infinitely more rich,\ntheir friendship is very sincere, and the richest sets no more value\non himself than the other. They never had any other dispute but on\nthis point; in all other things their union has been very strict.\n\nOne day as they were talking upon this subject, as I have since been\ninformed by them both, Saadi affirmed that poverty proceeded from\nmen\u2019s being born poor, or spending their fortunes in luxury and\ndebauchery, or by some of those unforeseen fatalities which are not\nextraordinary. My opinion, said he, is, that most people\u2019s poverty\nis owing to their wanting at first a sufficient sum of money to\nraise them above want, by employing their industry to improve it:\nfor, said he, if they once had such a sum, and made a right use of\nit, they would not only live well, but would infallibly grow rich in\ntime.\n\nSaad could not come into his sentiments. The way, said he, which you\npropose to make a poor man rich, is not so certain as you imagine.\nYour plan is very hazardous, and I can bring many good arguments\nagainst your opinions, but that they will carry us too far. I\nbelieve, with as much probability, that a poor man may become rich\nby other means, as well as by money: and there are people who have\nraised as great and surprising fortunes by mere chance, as others\nhave done by money, with all their good economy and management to\nincrease it by the best conducted trade.\n\nSaad, replied Saadi, I see we shall not come to any determination by\nmy persisting in opposing my opinion against yours. I will make an\nexperiment to convince you, by giving, for example, a sum of money\nto some artisan, whose ancestors from father to son have always been\npoor, and lived only from day to day, and died as arrant beggars as\nthey were born. If I have not the success I expect, you shall try if\nyou will have better by the means you shall use.\n\nSome days after this dispute, these two friends happened to walk out\ntogether, and passing through the street where I was at work in my\nstall, at my trade of rope-making, which I learnt of my father, who\nlearnt of his, and he of his ancestors; and by my dress and equipage\nit was no hard matter for them to guess at my poverty.\n\nSaad, remembering Saadi\u2019s engagement, said, If you have not forgot\nwhat you said to me, there is a man, pointing to me, whom I can\nremember a long time working at his trade of rope-making, and in the\nsame poverty: he is a worthy subject for your liberality, and a\nproper person for you to make your experiment upon. I remember it so\nwell, replied Saadi, that I have ever since carried a sufficient sum\nabout me to do it, but only waited for an opportunity of being\ntogether, that you might be witness of the fact. Let us go to him,\nand know if he is really necessitous.\n\nThe two friends came to me, and I, seeing that they had a mind to\nspeak to me, left off work. They both accosted me with the common\nsalutation, and Saadi wishing me peace, asked me my name.\n\nI returned their salutation, and answered their question, saying to\nhim, Sir, my name is Hassan; but by reason of my trade, I am\ncommonly known by the name of Hassan Alhabbal.\n\nHassan, replied Saadi, as there is no trade but what a man may live\nby, I doubt not but yours produces enough for you to live well; and\nI am amazed, that the long time you have worked at your trade, you\nhave not saved enough to lay in a good stock of hemp to extend your\nmanufacture and employ more hands, by the profit of whose work you\nwould soon increase your income.\n\nSir, replied I, you will be no longer amazed I have not saved money,\nand taken the way you mention to become rich, when you come to know\nthat let me work as hard as I can from morning till night, I can\nhardly get enough to keep my family in bread and pulse. I have a\nwife and five children, not one of whom is old enough to be of the\nleast assistance to me. I must keep them and clothe them, and in our\npoor way of living, they still want a thousand necessaries, which\nthey cannot do without. And though hemp is not very dear, I must\nhave money to buy it. This is the first thing I do with any money I\nreceive for my work; otherwise, if I should neglect to do so, I and\nmy family must starve.\n\nNow judge, Sir, added I, if it is possible, that I should save any\nthing for myself and family: it is enough that we are content with\nthe little that God sends us, and that we have not the knowledge nor\ndesire of what we want, but can live as we have always been bred up,\nand are not reduced to beg.\n\nWhen I had given Saadi this account, he said to me, Hassan, I am not\nso much surprised, as I was, and I comprehend what obliges you to be\ncontent in your station. But if I should make a present of a purse\nof two hundred pieces of gold, would not you make a good use of it?\nand do not you believe, that with such a sum you could become soon\nas rich as the principal of your profession?\n\nSir, replied I, you seem to be so good a gentleman, that I am\npersuaded you would not banter me, but that the offer you make me,\nis serious; and I dare say, without presuming too much upon myself,\nthat a much less sum would be sufficient, not only to make me as\nrich as the principal of our profession, but that in time I should\nbe richer than all of them in this city together, though Bagdad is\nso large and populous.\n\nThe generous Saadi showed me immediately that in what he said he was\nserious. He pulled a purse out of his bosom, and putting it into my\nhands, said, Here, take this purse; you will find it contains two\nhundred pieces of gold: I pray God bless you with them, and give you\ngrace to make the good use of them I desire; and believe me, my\nfriend Saad, whom you see here, and I, shall both take great\npleasure in finding we may contribute in making you more happy than\nyou now are.\n\nCommander of the faithful, when I had got the purse, the first thing\nI did was to put it into my bosom; but the transport of my joy was\nso great, and I was so much penetrated with gratitude, that my\nspeech failed me, and I could give my benefactor no other tokens of\nmy gratitude, than to lay hold of the hem of his garment and kiss\nit; but he drew it from me; and he and his friend pursued their walk.\n\nAs soon as they were gone, I returned to my work again, and my first\nthought was, what I should do with my purse to keep it safe. I had\nin my poor house neither box nor cupboard to lock it up in, nor any\nother place where I could be sure it would not be discovered if I\nhad it.\n\nIn this perplexity, as I had been used, like many poor people of my\nsort, to put the little money I had in the folds of my turban, I\nleft my work, and went into the house, under pretence of wrapping my\nturban up anew. And I took such precautions that neither my wife nor\nchildren saw what I was doing. But first I laid aside ten pieces of\ngold for present necessaries, and wrapt the rest up in the folds of\nthe linen which went about my cap.\n\nThe principal expense I was at that day, was to lay in a good stock\nof hemp, and afterwards, as my family had eaten no flesh meat a long\ntime, I went to the shambles, and bought something for supper.\n\nAs I was carrying the meat I had bought home in my hand, a famished\nkite flew upon me, and would have taken away my meat, if I had not\nheld it very fast; but, alas! I had better parted with it than lost\nmy money; the fester I held my meat, the more the bird struggled to\nget it, drawing me sometimes on one side, and sometimes on another;\nbut would not quit the prize, till unfortunately by my efforts the\nturban fell on the ground.\n\nThe kite immediately let go his hold, and seizing on my turban\nbefore I could pick it up, flew away with it. I cried out so loud,\nthat I frightened all the men, women, and children in the\nneighbourhood, who joined their shouts and cries to make the kite\nquit his hold; for by that means these sort of voracious birds are\noften forced to quit their prey. But our cries did not frighten this\nkite; he carried off my turban, and we soon lost sight of him before\nhe dropt it, and it would have been in vain for me to fatigue myself\nwith running after him.\n\nI went home very melancholy at the loss of my turban and money. I\nwas obliged to buy a new turban, which diminished the small\nremainder of the ten pieces; for I had laid out a deal in hemp. The\nlittle that was left was not sufficient to give me reason to gratify\nthe great hopes I had conceived.\n\nBut what troubled me most was the little satisfaction I should be\nable to give my benefactor for his ill-placed generosity, when he\nshould come to hear what a misfortune I had met with, which he would\nperhaps look upon as incredible, and consequently an idle excuse.\n\nWhile the remainder of the ten pieces lasted, my little family and I\nlived the better for it; but I soon relapsed into the same poverty,\nand the same inability to extricate myself from wretchedness.\nHowever, I never murmured nor repined. God, said I, was pleased to\ngive me riches when I least expected them; he has thought fit to\ntake them from me again almost at the same time, because it so\npleased him, and they were at his disposal; yet I will praise his\nname for all the benefits I have received, as it was his good\npleasure, and submit myself, as I have ever done hitherto, to his\nwill.\n\nThese were my sentiments, while my wife, from whom I could not keep\nsecret the loss I had sustained, was inconsolable. In my trouble I\nhad told my neighbours, that when I lost my turban, I lost a hundred\nand ninety pieces of gold; but as they knew my poverty, and could\nnot comprehend how I should have got so great a sum by my work, they\nonly laughed at me.\n\nAbout six months after this my misfortune, which I have related to\nyour majesty, the two friends walking through that part of the town\nwhere I lived, the neighbourhood put Saad in mind of me. We are now,\nsaid he to Saadi, not far from the street where Hassan Alhabbal\nlives; let us call and see what use he made of the two hundred\npieces of gold you gave him, and whether they have enabled him to\ntake any steps towards bettering his fortune.\n\nWith all my heart, replied Saadi; I have been thinking of him some\ndays, and it will be a great pleasure and satisfaction to me to have\nyou with me, as a witness of the proof of my proposal. You will see\na great alteration. I expect we shall hardly know him again.\n\nJust as Saadi said this, these two friends turned the corner of the\nstreet, and Saad, who perceived me first at a distance, said to his\nfriend, I believe you reckon without your host; I see Hassan\nAlhabbal, but can discern no change in his person, for he is as\nill-dressed as when we saw him before; the only difference that I\ncan perceive is, his turban looks something better. Observe him\nyourself, and see whether I am in the wrong.\n\nAs they drew nearer to me, Saadi saw me too, and found Saad was in\nthe right, but could not tell to what he should attribute the little\nalteration he saw in my person; and was so much amazed, that he\ncould not speak when he came up to me. Well, Hassan, said Saad, we\ndo not ask you how affairs go since we saw you last; without doubt\nthey are in a better train.\n\nGentlemen, replied I, addressing myself to them both, I have the\ngreat mortification to tell you, that your desires, wishes, and\nhopes, as well as mine, have not had the success you had reason to\nexpect, and I promised myself; you will scarce believe the\nextraordinary adventure that has befallen me. I assure you,\nnevertheless, on the word of an honest man, and you ought to believe\nme, for nothing is more true than what I am going to tell you. Then\nI related to them my adventures, with the same circumstances I had\nthe honour to tell your majesty.\n\nSaadi rejected my discourse, and said, Hassan, you joke with me, and\nwould deceive me; for what you say is a thing incredible. What have\nkites to do with turbans? they only search for something to satisfy\ntheir hunger. You have done as all such sort of people as you\ngenerally do: if they have made any extraordinary gain, or any good\nfortune happens to them, which they never expected, they throw aside\ntheir work, take their pleasure, and make merry, while the money\nlasts; and when they have eaten and drank it all out, are reduced to\nthe same necessity and want as before. You would not be so\nmiserable, but because you deserve it, and render yourself unworthy\nof any good action done to you.\n\nSir, replied I, I bear all these reproaches, and am ready to bear as\nmany more, if they were more severe, and all with the more patience,\nbecause I do not think I deserve them. The thing is so publicly\nknown in this part of the town, that there is nobody but can satisfy\nyou of the truth of it. If you inquire, you will find that I do not\nimpose upon you. I own, I never heard talk of kites flying away with\nturbans; but this has actually happened to me, as a great many other\nthings, which do not fall out every day, and yet have actually\nhappened.\n\nSaad took my part, and told Saadi a great many as surprising stories\nof kites, some of which he affirmed he knew to be true, insomuch\nthat at last he pulled his purse out of his bosom, and counted out\ntwo hundred pieces of gold into my hand, which I put into my bosom\nfor want of a purse.\n\nWhen Saadi had told me out that sum, he said to me, Hassan, I make\nyou a present of these two hundred pieces; but take care to put them\nin a safer place, that you may not lose them so unfortunately as you\nhave done the others, and employ them in such a manner that they may\nprocure you the advantages that the others would have done. I told\nhim that the obligation of this his second kindness was much greater\nthan I deserved, after what had happened, and that I should be sure\nto make good use of his advice. I would have said a great deal more,\nbut he did not give me time, but went away, and continued his walk\nwith his friend.\n\nAs soon as they were gone, I left off work and went home, and\nfinding neither my wife nor children within, I pulled out my money,\nput ten pieces by, and wrapt up the rest in a clean linen cloth,\ntying it fast with a knot; but then I was to consider where I should\nhide this linen cloth, that it might be safe. After I had considered\nsome time, I bethought of laying it at the bottom of a great earthen\nvessel full of bran, which stood in a corner, where I imagined\nneither my wife nor children would look into. My wife came home soon\nafter, and as I had but very little hemp in the house, I told her I\nshould go out to buy some, without saying any thing to her about the\ntwo friends.\n\nWhile I was out, a sand-man, who sells scouring sand, which women\nuse in baths, passed through our street, and called, Sand, ho! My\nwife, who wanted some, called him: but as she had no money, she\nasked him, if he would make an exchange of some sand for some bran.\nThe sand-man asked to see the bran. My wife showed him the pot; the\nbargain was made; she had the scouring sand, with which she filled a\nlean-to which I had made to the house, and the sand-man took the pot\nand bran along with him.\n\nNot long after, I came home, loaded with as much hemp as I could\ncarry, and followed by five porters loaded also with the same. After\nI had satisfied them for their trouble, I sat down to rest myself;\nand, looking about me, could not see the pot of bran.\n\nIt is impossible for me to express to your majesty my surprise, and\nthe effect it had on me at the moment. I asked my wife hastily what\nwas become of it: and she told me the bargain she had made with the\nsand-man, which she thought to be a very good one.\n\nAh! unfortunate woman! cried I, you know not the injury you have\ndone me, yourself, and our children, by making that bargain, which\nhas ruined us quite. You thought only of selling the bran, but with\nthe bran you have enriched the sand-man with a hundred and ninety\npieces of gold, which Saadi with his friend came and made me a\nsecond present of.\n\nMy wife was like one stark mad, when she knew what a fault she had\ncommitted through ignorance. She cried, beat her breast, and tore\nher hair and clothes. Unhappy wretch that I am, cried she, am I fit\nto live after so horrid a mistake? Where shall I find this sand-man?\nI know him not; I never saw him in our street before. Oh! husband,\nadded she, you was very much in the wrong to be so reserved in a\nmatter of such importance! This had never happened, if you had\ncommunicated the secret to me. In short, I should never make an end\nof my story, if I were to tell your majesty what her grief made her\nsay. You are not ignorant how eloquent women often are in their\nafflictions.\n\nWife, said I, moderate your grief; by your weeping and howling you\nwill alarm all the neighbourhood, and there is no reason they should\nbe informed of our misfortunes. They will only laugh at us, instead\nof pitying us. We had best bear our loss patiently, and submit\nourselves to the will of God, and bless him, for that out of two\nhundred pieces of gold which he had given us, he has taken back but\none hundred and ninety, and left us ten, which, by the use I shall\nmake of them, will be a great relief to us.\n\nMy wife at first did not relish all these my arguments; but as time\nsoftens the greatest misfortunes, and makes them more supportable,\nshe at last grew easy, and had almost forgotten them. It is true,\nsaid I to her, we live but poorly; but what have the rich, which we\nhave not? Do not we breathe the same air, enjoy the same light, and\nthe same warmth of the sun? Therefore what conveniences have they\nmore than we, that we should envy their happiness? They die as well\nas we. In short, while we live in the fear of God, as we should\nalways do, the advantage they have over us is so very\ninconsiderable, that we ought not to regard it.\n\nI will not tire your majesty any longer with my moral reflections.\nMy wife and I comforted ourselves, and I pursued my trade with as\nmuch alacrity as before these two mortifying losses, which followed\none another so quickly. The only thing that troubled me sometimes\nwas, how I should look Saadi in the face when he should come and ask\nme how much I had improved his two hundred pieces of gold, and\nadvanced my fortune by his liberality. I saw no remedy but to\nresolve to submit to the confusion I should feel, though it was by\nno fault of mine, this time, any more than before, that this\nmisfortune had happened.\n\nThe two friends stayed away longer this time than the former, though\nSaad had often spoken to Saadi, who always put it off; for, said he,\nthe longer we stay away, the richer Hassan will be, and I shall have\nthe greater satisfaction.\n\nSaad, who had not the same opinion of the effect of his friend\u2019s\ngenerosity, made answer, You fancy then that your present will have\nbeen turned to a better account this time than before. I would\nadvise you not to flatter yourself too much, for fear you should be\nmore sensibly mortified if it should prove otherwise. Why, replied\nSaadi, kites do not fly away with turbans every day; and Hassan will\nbe more cautious this time.\n\nI do not doubt of it, replied Saad; but, added he, there are other\naccidents that neither you nor I can think of; therefore, I say\nagain, moderate your joy, and do not depend too much on Hassan\u2019s\ngood success; for to tell you what I think, and what I always\nthought, (whether you like to hear it or not), I have a secret\nforesight, that you will not have succeeded, and that I shall\nsucceed better than you in proving that a poor man may sooner become\nrich by any other means than by money.\n\nIn short, one day, when Saad and Saadi were together, and were\ndisputing upon this subject, Saad observed that enough had been\nsaid: I am resolved, said he, to inform myself this very day, what\nhas passed; it is time for walking; let us not lose it, but go see\nwhich of us has lost the wager. I saw them at a distance, was\nterribly concerned, and was just going to leave my work, and to run\nand hide myself. However, I appeared very earnest at work, made as\nif I had not seen them, and never lifted up my eyes till they were\nclose to me, and had saluted me, and then I could not help it I hung\ndown my head, and told them my last misfortune, with all the\ncircumstances, and that I was as poor as when they first saw me.\n\nAfter that, I added, you may say that I ought to have hid my money\nin another place than in a pot of bran, which was carried out of my\nhouse that same day: but that pot had stood there many years, and\nhad never been removed, whenever my wife parted with the bran. Could\nI guess that a sand-man should come by that very day, and my wife\nwould have no money, and would make such an exchange? You may indeed\nallege, that I ought to have told my wife of it; but I will never\nbelieve that such prudent persons, as I am persuaded you are, would\nhave given me that advice; and if I had put my money any where else,\nwhat certainty could I have had that it would be more safe?\n\nI see, sir, said I, addressing myself to Saadi, that it has pleased\nGod, whose ways are secret and impenetrable, that I should not be\nenriched by your liberality, but that I must be poor; however, the\nobligation is the same as if it had wrought the desired effect.\n\nAfter these words, I was silent; and Saadi replied, Though I would\npersuade myself, Hassan, that all you tell us is true, and not owing\nto your debauchery or ill management, yet I must not be extravagant,\nand ruin myself for the sake of an experiment. I do not regret in\nthe least the four hundred pieces of gold I gave you to raise you in\nthe world. I did it out of respect to God, without expecting any\nrecompense but the pleasure of doing good. If any thing makes me\nrepent, it is that I did not address myself to another, who might\nhave made a better use of my charity. Then turning about to his\nfriend, Saad, continued he, you may know by what I have said, that I\ndo not entirely give up the cause. You may now make your experiment,\nand let me see, that there are ways, besides giving money, to make a\npoor man\u2019s fortune in the way we both mean. Let Hassan be the man.\nI dare say, whatever you give him he will not be richer than he was\nwith four hundred pieces of gold. Saad had a piece of lead in his\nhand, which he showed Saadi. You saw me, said he, take up this piece\nof lead, which I found on the ground; I will give it to Hassan; and\nyou shall see what it is worth.\n\nSaadi burst out a laughing at Saad. What is that bit of lead worth?\nsaid he; a farthing? What can Hassan do with that? Saad presented it\nto me, and said, Take it, Hassan: let Saadi laugh: you will tell us\nsome news of the good luck it has brought one time or another. I\nthought Saad was in jest, and had a mind to divert himself; however,\nI put the lead in my pocket, and thanked him. The two friends\npursued their walk, and I fell to work again.\n\nAt night, when I pulled off my clothes to go to bed, the piece of\nlead, which I had never thought of from the time he gave it me,\ntumbled out of my pocket. I took it up, and laid it on the first\nplace that was nearest to me. The same night it happened that a\nfisherman, a neighbour, mending his nets, found a piece of lead\nwanting; and it being too late to buy any, since the shops were shut\nup, and he must either fish that night or his family go without\nbread the next day, he called to his wife, and bid her inquire among\nthe neighbours for a piece. She went from door to door on both sides\nof the street, but could not get any, and came back again to tell\nher husband so. He asked her if she had been to several of their\nneighbours, naming them, and among the rest Hassan Alhabbal\u2019s\nhouse. No, indeed, said the wife, I have not been there; that was\ntoo far off, and if I had gone, do you think I should have found\nany? I know by experience they never have any thing when one wants\nit. No matter, said the fisherman; you are an idle hussy; you must\ngo there; for though you have been there a hundred times before,\nwithout getting any thing, you may chance to get what we want now.\nYou must go.\n\nThe fisherman\u2019s wife went out grumbling and growling, came and\nknocked at my door, and waked me out of a sound sleep. I asked her\nwhat she wanted. Hassan Alhabbal, said she, as loud as she could\nbawl, my husband wants a bit of lead to mend his nets with; and if\nyou have a piece, desires you to give it him.\n\nThe piece of lead which Saad had given me was so fresh in my memory,\nand had so lately dropt out of my clothes, that I could not forget\nit. I told my neighbour I had some; and if she would stay a moment,\nmy wife should give her what she wanted. Accordingly, my wife, who\nwas wakened by the noise as well as myself, got up, and groping\nabout where I directed her, found the lead, opened the door, and\ngave it to the fisherman\u2019s wife, who was so overjoyed, that she\npromised my wife, that for the kindness she did her and her husband,\nshe would answer for him we should have the first cast of the nets.\n\nThe fisherman was so much rejoiced to see the lead, which he so\nlittle expected, that he very much approved his wife\u2019s promise. He\nfinished mending his nets, and went a fishing two hours before day,\naccording to custom. At the first throw he caught but one fish,\nabout a yard long, and proportionable in thickness; and afterwards\nhad a great many successful casts; but of all the fish he took, none\ncame up in size equal to the first.\n\nWhen the fisherman had done fishing, he went home, where his first\ncare was to think of me. I was extremely surprised, when at my work,\nto see him come to me with a large fish in his hand. Neighbour, said\nhe, my wife promised you last night, in return for your kindness,\nwhatever fish I should catch at my first throw; and I approved her\npromise. It pleased God to send me no more than this one for you,\nwhich I desire you to accept of, such as it is. I wish it had been\nbetter. Had he sent me my net full, they should all have been yours.\n\nNeighbour, said I, the bit of lead which I sent you was such a\ntrifle, that it ought not to be valued at so high a rate; neighbours\nshould assist each other in their little wants. I have done no more\nfor you than I should have expected from you had I been in such a\ncase; therefore I would refuse your present, if I was not persuaded\nyou gave it me freely, and that I should offend you if I did so; and\nsince you will have it so, I take it, and I return you my hearty\nthanks.\n\nAfter these civilities, I took the fish, and carried it home to my\nwife. Here, said I, take this fish, which the fisherman our\nneighbour has made me a present of, in return for the little bit of\nlead he sent to us for last night: I believe it is all that we can\nexpect from the present Saad made me yesterday, promising me that it\nwould bring me good luck; and then I told her what had passed\nbetween the two friends.\n\nMy wife was very much startled to see so large a fish. What would\nyou have me do with it? said she. Our gridiron is only fit to broil\nsmall fish; and we have not a pot big enough to boil it. That is\nyour business, answered I; dress it as you will, I shall like it\neither way; and then I went to my work again.\n\nIn gutting the fish, my wife found a large diamond, which, when she\nwashed it, she took for a piece of glass: indeed she had heard talk\nof diamonds, but if she had ever seen or handled one, she would not\nhave known how to distinguish them. She gave it to the youngest of\nour children for a plaything, and his brothers and sisters handled\nit about from one to another, to admire the brightness and beauty of\nit.\n\nAt night when the lamp was lighted, and the children were still\nplaying with the diamond, they perceived that it gave a light, when\nmy wife, who was getting them their supper, stood between them and\nthe lamp; upon which they snatched it from one another to try it;\nand the younger ones fell a crying, that the elder ones would not\nlet them have it long enough. But as a little matter amuses\nchildren, and makes them squabble and fall out, my wife and I took\nno notice of their noise, which presently ceased, when the bigger\nones supped with us, and my wife had given the younger each their\nshare.\n\nAfter supper, the children got together again, and began to make the\nsame noise. Then I called to the eldest, to know what was the\nmatter, who told me that it was about a piece of glass, which gave a\nlight when his back was to the lamp. I bid him bring it to me, and\nmade the experiment myself; and it appeared so extraordinary to me,\nthat I asked my wife what it was. She told me it was a piece of\nglass, which she found in gutting the fish.\n\nI thought no more than she but that it was a bit of glass, but I was\nresolved to make a farther experiment of it; and therefore bid my\nwife to put the lamp in the chimney, which she did, and still found\nthat the supposed piece of glass gave so great a light, that we\nmight see to go to bed without the lamp. So I put it out, and placed\nthe bit of glass upon the chimney to light us. Look, said I, this is\nanother advantage that Saadi\u2019s friend\u2019s piece of lead procures\nus: it will spare us the expense of oil.\n\nWhen the children saw the lamp was put out, and the bit of glass\nsupplied its place, they cried out so loud, and made so great a\nnoise with astonishment, that it was enough to alarm the\nneighbourhood; and before my wife and I could quiet them we were\nforced to make a greater noise, nor could we silence them till we\nhad put them to bed; and after talking a long while in their way\nabout the wonderful light of a bit of glass, they fell asleep. After\nthey were in bed, my wife and I went to bed by them; and next\nmorning, without thinking any more of the glass, I went to my work\nas usual; which ought not to seem strange for such a man as I, who\nhad never seen any diamonds, or, if I had, never attended to their\nvalue.\n\nBut before I proceed, I must tell your majesty, that there was but a\nvery slight partition-wall between my house and my next\nneighbour\u2019s, who was a very rich Jew, and a jeweller; and the\nchamber that he and his wife lay in joined to ours. They were both\nin bed, and the noise my children made awakened them.\n\nThe next morning the jeweller\u2019s wife came to mine to complain of\nbeing disturbed out of their first sleep. Good neighbour Rachael,\nwhich was the Jew\u2019s wife\u2019s name, said my wife, I am very sorry\nfor what happened, and hope you will excuse it; you know it was the\nchildren, and they will laugh and cry for a trifle. Come in, and I\nwill show you what was the occasion of all the noise.\n\nThe Jewess went in with her, and my wife taking the diamond (for\nsuch it really was, and a very extraordinary one) off the\nchimney-piece, gave it into her hands. See here, said she; it was\nthis piece of glass that caused all the noise; and while the Jewess,\nwho understood all sorts of precious stones, was examining this\ndiamond with admiration, my wife had told her how she found it in\nthe fish\u2019s belly, and what had happened.\n\nIndeed, Aischach, which was my wife\u2019s name, said the jeweller\u2019s\nwife, giving her the diamond again, I believe as you do, it is a\npiece of glass; but as it is more beautiful than common glass, and I\nhave just such another piece at home, I will buy it, if you will\nsell it.\n\nThe children, who heard them talking of selling their plaything,\npresently interrupted their conversation, crying and begging their\nmother not to part with it, who, to quiet them, promised she would\nnot.\n\nThe Jewess being thus prevented in her bargain by my children, went\naway, but first whispering my wife (who followed her to the door),\nif she had a mind to sell it, not to show it to any body without\nacquainting her.\n\nThe Jew went out early in the morning to his shop in that part of\nthe town where the jewellers all resorted to. Thither his wife went\nto him, and told him the discovery she had made. She gave him an\naccount of the size and weight of it as near as she could guess, and\nof its beauty, water, and lustre, and particularly of the light\nwhich it gave in the night according to my wife\u2019s account, which\nwas the more credible as she was uninformed.\n\nThe Jew sent his wife immediately to treat, and to offer her a\ntrifle at first, as she should think fit, and then to raise her\nprice by degrees; but be sure to bring it, cost what it would.\nAccordingly his wife came again to mine privately, and, without\nsupposing that she was determined to sell the diamond, asked her if\nshe would take twenty pieces of gold for that piece of glass.\n\nMy wife thinking the sum so considerable for a mere piece of glass,\nas she thought it, would not make any bargain; but told her she\ncould not part with it, till she had spoken with me. In the mean\ntime I came from my work to dinner. As they were talking at the\ndoor, my wife stopped me, and asked me, if I would sell the piece of\nglass she had found in the fish\u2019s belly for twenty pieces of gold\nwhich our neighbour offered her. I returned no answer; but reflected\nimmediately on the assurance with which Saad, in giving me the piece\nof lead, told me it would make my fortune. The Jew woman, fancying\nthat the low price she had offered was the reason I made no reply,\nsaid, I will give you fifty, neighbour, if that will do.\n\nAs soon as I found that she rose presently from twenty to fifty, I\ntold her that I expected a great deal more. Well, neighbour, said\nshe, I will give you a hundred, and that is so much, I know not\nwhether my husband will bear me out. At this new advance, I told her\nI would have a hundred thousand pieces of gold for it; that I saw\nplainly that the diamond was worth a great deal more; but to oblige\nher and her husband, as they were neighbours. I would limit myself\nto that price, which I was determined to have; and if they refused\nto give it, other jewellers should have it, who would give a great\ndeal more.\n\nThe Jewess confirmed me in this my resolution, by her eagerness to\nconclude the bargain: and by coming up at several biddings to fifty\nthousand pieces, which I refused. I can offer you no more, said she,\nwithout my husband\u2019s consent. He will be at home at night; and I\nwould beg the favour of you to let him see it, which I promised.\n\nAt night when the Jew came home, his wife told him what she had\ndone; that she had got no forwarder with my wife or me; that she\noffered, and I refused, fifty thousand pieces of gold; and that I\nhad promised to stay till night at her request. He observed the time\nwhen I left off work, and came to me. Neighbour Hassan, said he, I\ndesire you would show me the diamond your wife showed to mine. I\nbrought him in, and showed it him. As it was very dark, and my lamp\nwas not lighted, he knew presently, by the light the diamond gave,\nand by the lustre it cast in my hand, that his wife had given him a\ntrue account of it. He looked at and admired it a long time. Well,\nneighbour, said he, my wife tells me she offered you fifty thousand\npieces of gold; I will give you twenty thousand more.\n\nNeighbour, said I, your wife can tell you that I value my diamond at\na hundred thousand pieces, and I will take nothing less. He haggled\na long time with me, in hopes that I would make some abatement: but\nfinding at last that I was positive, and for fear that I should show\nit to other jewellers, as I certainly should have done, he would not\nleave me till the bargain was concluded on my own terms. He told me\nthat he had not so much money at home, but would pay it all to me by\nthat time to-morrow, and that very instant fetched two bags of a\nthousand pieces each, as an earnest; and the next day, though I do\nnot know how he raised the money, whether he borrowed it of his\nfriends, or let some other jewellers into partnership with him, he\nbrought me the sum we agreed for, at the time appointed, and I\ndelivered to him the diamond.\n\nHaving thus sold my diamond, and being rich, infinitely beyond my\nhopes, I thanked God for his bounty and liberality; and would have\ngone and thrown myself at Saad\u2019s feet to express my gratitude, if\nI had known where he lived; as also at Saadi\u2019s, to whom I was\nfirst obliged, though his good intention had not the same success.\n\nAfterwards I thought of the good use I should make of so\nconsiderable a sum. My wife, with the vanity natural to her sex,\nproposed immediately to buy rich clothes for her and her children;\nand to purchase a house, and furnish it handsomely. I told her we\nought not to begin with such expenses; for, said I, money is made to\nbe spent, so as that it may produce a fund which we may draw from\nwithout its failing. This I intend, and shall begin to-morrow.\n\nI spent all that day and the next in going to the people of my own\ntrade, who worked as hard every day for their bread as I had done;\nand giving them money beforehand, engaged them to work for me in\ndifferent sorts of rope-making, according to their skill and\nability, with a promise not to make them wait for their money, but\nto pay them as soon as their work was done.\n\nBy this means I engrossed almost all the business of Bagdad, and\nevery body was pleased with my exactness and punctual payment.\n\nAs so great a number of workmen must produce a great deal of work, I\nwent and hired warehouses in several parts of the town to hold my\ngoods, and appointed over each a clerk, to sell both wholesale and\nretail; and by this economy received a considerable profit and\nincome. Afterwards, to unite so many warehouses in one place, I\nbought a large house, which stood upon a great deal of ground, but\nwas ruinous, pulled it down, and built that which your majesty saw\nyesterday, which, though it makes so great an appearance, consists,\nfor the most part, of warehouses for my business, with apartments\njust necessary for myself and family.\n\nSome time after I had left my poor old habitation, and removed to\nthis new one, Saad, and Saadi, who had scarce thought of me from the\nlast time they had been with me, as they were one day walking\ntogether, and passing by our street, resolved to call upon me: but\nhow great was their surprise when they did not see me at work, as\nthey used to find me! They asked what was become of me, and if I was\nalive or dead? Their amazement was redoubled, when they were told I\nwas become a great merchant, and was no longer called plain Hassan,\nbut Cogia Hassan Alhabbal, which was to say, Merchant Hassan\nRope-maker, and that I had built in a street, which was named to\nthem, a house like a palace.\n\nThe two friends went directly to the street, and in the way, as\nSaadi could not imagine that the bit of lead which Saad had given me\ncould have been the raising of my fortune, he said to him, I am\noverjoyed to have made Hassan Alhabbal\u2019s fortune: but I cannot\nforgive the two lies he told me, to get four hundred pieces instead\nof two: for I nor nobody else can attribute it to the piece of lead\nyou gave him.\n\nSo you think, replied Saad; but so do not I. I do not see why you\nshould do Cogia Hassan so much injustice as to take him for a liar.\nYou must give me leave to believe that he told us the truth, and\ndisguised nothing from us, and that the piece of lead which I gave\nhim is the cause of his prosperity; and you will find he will\npresently tell us so.\n\nIn this discourse the two friends came into the street where I\nlived, and asked whereabouts my house stood; and being showed it,\nand considering the front, they had much ado to believe it.\n\nThey knocked at the door, and my porter opened it; and Saadi,\nfearing to be guilty of rudeness in taking the house of a nobleman\nfor that he was inquiring after, said to the porter, We are informed\nthat this is Cogia Hassan Alhabbal\u2019s house; tell us if we are not\nmistaken. You are very right, sir, said the porter, opening the door\nwider; it is the same: come in; he is in the hall, and any of the\nslaves will point him out to you.\n\nI had no sooner set my eyes upon the two friends, but I knew them. I\nrose from my seat, ran to them, and would have kissed the hem of\ntheir garments, but they would not suffer it, but embraced me. I\ninvited them to sit down on a sofa made to hold four persons, which\nwas placed full in view of my garden. I desired them to sit down,\nand they would have me take the place of honour. I assured them that\nI had not forgot that I was poor Hassan Alhabbal, nor the\nobligations I had to them; but were this not the case, I knew the\nrespect due to them, and begged them not to expose me. They sat down\nin the proper place, and I over-against them.\n\nThen Saadi, addressing himself to me, said, Cogia Hassan, I cannot\nexpress my joy to see you in the condition I wished you, when I\ntwice made you a present of two hundred pieces of gold, with which I\nmean not to upbraid you; and I am persuaded that those four hundred\npieces have made this wonderful change in your fortune, which I see\nwith pleasure. One thing vexes me, which is, I cannot comprehend the\nreason why you should twice disguise the truth from me, alleging\nthat your losses were the effect of misfortunes which still seem to\nme incredible. Was it not because, when we were together the last\ntime, you had so little advanced your small income with each of the\ntwo hundred pieces of gold, that you were ashamed to own it? I am\nwilling to believe this, and wait to be confirmed in my opinion.\n\nSaad heard this discourse of Saadi\u2019s with impatience, not to say\nindignation, which he showed by casting down his eyes and shaking\nhis head: he did not however interrupt him. When he had done, he\nsaid to him, Forgive me, Saadi, if I anticipate Cogia Hassan, before\nhe answers you, to tell you, that I admire your prepossessions\nagainst his sincerity, and that you still persist in not believing\nthe assurances he has already given you. I have told you before, and\nI repeat it to you once more, that I believe those two accidents\nwhich befell him upon his bare relation; and whatever you may say, I\nam persuaded they are true; but let him speak himself, and tell\nwhich of us does him justice.\n\nAfter this discourse of the two friends, I said, addressing myself\nto them both, Gentlemen, I should condemn myself to perpetual\nsilence, on the explanation you ask of me, if I was not certain the\ndispute you argue upon my account cannot break that friendship which\nsubsists between you; therefore I will declare to you the truth,\nsince you require it; and with the same sincerity as before. Then I\ntold them every circumstance, as your majesty has heard, without\nforgetting the least.\n\nAll my protestations had no effect on Saadi, to cure him of his\nprejudice. Cogia Hassan, replied Saadi, the adventure of the fish,\nand diamond found in his belly, appears to me as incredible as the\nkite\u2019s flying away with your turban, and the exchange of the\nscouring-sand. Be it as it will, I am equally convinced that you are\nno longer poor, but rich as I intended you should be, by my means;\nand I rejoice sincerely.\n\nAs it grew late, they got up to take their leaves; when I stopped\nthem, and said, Gentlemen, there is one favour I have to ask, and I\nbeg of you not to refuse to do me the honour to stay and take a\nslight supper with me, and a bed to-night, and to-morrow I will\ncarry you by water to a small country-house, which I bought for the\nsake of the air, and we will return the same day on my horses.\n\nIf Saad has no business that calls him elsewhere, said Saadi, I\nconsent. Saad told him that nothing should prevent his enjoying his\ncompany. We have only to send a slave to my house, that we may not\nbe waited for. I provided a slave; and while they were giving their\norders, I went and ordered supper.\n\nWhile it was getting ready, I shewed my benefactors my house and all\nmy offices, which they thought very extensive, considering my\nfortune. I call them both benefactors, without distinction, because\nwithout Saadi, Saad would never have given me the piece of lead; and\nwithout Saad, Saadi would not have given me the four hundred pieces\nof gold, to which I attribute the rise of my good fortune. Then I\nbrought them back again into the hall, where they asked me several\nquestions about my business; and I gave them such answers as\nsatisfied them.\n\nDuring this discourse, my servants came to tell me that supper was\nserved up. I led them into another hall, where they admired the\nmanner in which it was lighted, the beaufet, and the entertainment I\nhad provided. I regaled them also with a concert of vocal and\ninstrumental music during the repast, and afterwards with a company\nof dancers, and other entertainments, endeavouring to show them as\nmuch as possible my gratitude.\n\nThe next morning, as we had agreed to set out early to enjoy the\nfresh air, we repaired to the river side by sunrise, and went on\nboard a pleasure-boat well carpeted, that waited for us; and in less\nthan an hour and a half, with six good rowers, and the stream, we\narrived at my country-house.\n\nWhen we went ashore, the two friends stopt to observe the beauty of\nthe outside of my house, and to admire its advantageous situation\nfor the prospects, which were neither too much limited nor too\nextensive, but such as made it very agreeable. Then I carried them\ninto all the apartments, and showed them all the out-houses and\nconveniencies; with all which they were very well pleased.\n\nAfterwards we walked in the gardens, where what they were most taken\nwith was a grove of orange and lemon trees, loaded with fruit and\nflowers, which were planted at equal distances, and watered by a\ncanal of fresh water, which was cut from a pleasant river just by.\nThe close shade, the fragrant smell which perfumed the air, the soft\nmurmurings of the water, the harmonious notes of an infinite number\nof birds, and many other agreeable circumstances, struck them in\nsuch a manner, that they frequently stopt to express how much they\nwere obliged to me for bringing them to so delightful a place, and\nto congratulate me upon my great acquisitions, with other\ncompliments. I led them to the end of that grove, which was very\nlong and broad, where I showed them a wood of large trees which\nterminated my garden, and afterwards a summer-house, open on all\nsides, shaded with a cluster of palm-trees, but not so as to spoil\nthe prospect; then I invited them to walk in, and repose themselves\non a sofa covered with carpets and cushions.\n\nTwo of my boys, whom I had sent into the country, with a tutor, for\nthe air, left us, to go into the wood bird-nesting; and seeing a\nnest which was built in the branches of a great tree, they attempted\nto get at it; but as they had neither strength nor address to\naccomplish it, they showed it to the slave who waited on them, and\nnever left them, and bid him climb the tree for it; who, when he\ncame to it, was very much surprised to find it built in a turban.\nHowever, he took it, and brought it down with him, and showed it to\nmy children; and as he thought that I might like to see a thing that\nwas so uncommon, he gave it to the eldest boy to bring to me.\n\nI saw the children at a distance, coming back to us, overjoyed to\nhave gotten a nest. Father, said the eldest lad, we have found a\nnest in a turban. The two friends and I were very much surprised at\nthe novelty; but I much more, when I knew the turban to be that\nwhich the kite flew away with. After I had examined it well, and\nturned it about, I said to my guests, Gentlemen, have you memories\ngood enough to remember the turban I had on the day you did me the\nhonour first to speak to me? I do not think, said Saad, that either\nmy friend or I gave any attention to it; but if the hundred and\nninety pieces of gold are in it, we cannot doubt of it.\n\nSir, replied I, there is no doubt but it is the same turban; for,\nbesides that I know it very well, I feel by the weight it is too\nheavy to be any other, and you will perceive this, if you give\nyourself the trouble to take it in your hand. Then, after taking out\nthe birds, and giving them to the children, I put it into his hands,\nand he gave it to Saadi. --Indeed, said Saadi, I believe it to be\nyour turban, which I shall be better convinced of when I see the\nhundred and ninety pieces of gold.\n\nNow, sir, added I, taking the turban, again, observe very well,\nbefore I touch it, that it is of no very fresh date in the tree; and\nthe state in which you see it, and the nest so neatly made in it,\nwithout having been touched by the hand of man, are sufficient\nproofs that the kite dropt or laid it in the tree ever since that\nday he took it from off my head, and the branches hindered it from\nfalling to the ground. Excuse my making this remark, since it\nconcerns me so much to remove all suspicions of fraud on my part.\nSaad backed me in what I urged, and said, Saadi, this regards you\nand not me, for I am verily persuaded that Cogia Hassan does not\nimpose upon us.\n\nWhile Saad was talking, I pulled off the linen cloth which was\nwrapped about the cap of the turban, and took out the purse, which\nSaadi knew to be the same he gave me. I emptied it on the carpet\nbefore them, and said, There, gentlemen, there is the money; count\nit, and see if it be right. Which Saad did, and found it to be a\nhundred and ninety pieces of gold. Then Saadi, who could not deny so\nmanifest a truth, addressing himself to me, said, I agree, Cogia\nHassan, that this money could not serve to enrich you; but the other\nhundred and ninety pieces, which you would make me believe you hid\nin a pot of bran, might. Sir, answered I, I have told you the truth\nin regard to both sums: you would not have me retract, to make\nmyself a liar.\n\nCogia Hassan, said Saad, leave Saadi to his own opinion; I consent\nwith all my heart that he believes you are obliged to him for one\npart of your good fortune, by means of the last sum he gave you,\nprovided he will agree that I contributed to the other half by the\nbit of lead, and will not pretend to dispute the valuable diamond\nfound in the fish\u2019s belly. I agree to it, answered Saadi; but\nstill you must give me liberty to believe that money is not to be\namassed without money.\n\nWhat, replied Saad, if chance should throw a diamond in my way worth\nfifty thousand pieces of gold, and I should have that sum given me\nfor it, can it be said I got that sum by money?\n\nThey disputed no farther then; but we rose up, and went into the\nhouse, just as dinner was ready. After dinner, I left my guests\ntogether, to pass away the heat of the day more at their liberty and\nwith greater composure, while I went to give orders to my\nhousekeeper and gardener. Afterwards I went to them again, and we\ntalked of indifferent matters till it grew a little cooler; when we\nreturned into the garden for fresh air, and stayed till sun-set.\nThen we all mounted on horseback, and got to Bagdad by moonlight two\nhours after, followed by one of my slaves.\n\nIt happened by I know not what negligence of my servants, that we\nwere then out of oats, and the storehouses were all shut up; when\none of my slaves, seeking about the neighbourhood for some, met with\na pot of bran in a shop, bought the bran, and brought the pot along\nwith him, promising to carry it back again the next day. The slave\nemptied the bran into the manger, and, dividing it with his hands\namong the horses, felt a linen cloth tied up, and very heavy: he\nbrought the cloth to me in the condition that he found it, and\npresented it to me, telling me that it might perhaps be the cloth he\nhad often heard me talk of among my friends.\n\nOverjoyed, I said to my two benefactors, Gentlemen, it has pleased\nGod that you should not part from me before you were fully convinced\nof the truth of what I have assured you. There are the other hundred\nand ninety pieces of gold which you gave me, continued I, addressing\nmyself to Saadi; I know it very well by the cloth, which I tied up\nwith my own hands; and then I told out the money before them. I\nordered the pot presently to be brought to me, and knew it to be the\nsame; and sent to my wife to ask if she recognised it, ordering them\nto say nothing to her of what had happened. She knew it immediately,\nand sent me word that it was the same vase she had exchanged full of\nbran for the scouring-earth.\n\nSaadi readily submitted, and renounced his incredulity; and said to\nSaad, I yield to you, and acknowledge that money is not always the\nmeans of becoming rich.\n\nWhen Saadi had done, I said to him, I dare not propose to return you\nthe three hundred and eighty pieces of gold which it hath pleased\nGod should be found, to undeceive you as to the opinion of my\nhonesty. I am persuaded that you did not give them to me with an\nintention that I should return them; and, for my part, I ought to be\nvery well content with what Providence has sent me from other\nquarters, and I do not design to make use of them; but, if you\napprove of it, to-morrow I will give them to the poor, that God may\nbless us both.\n\nThe two friends lay at my hours that night also; and next day, after\nembracing me, went to their own houses, very well pleased with the\nreception I had given them, and to find I did not make an ill use of\nthe riches Heaven had blessed me with. I thanked them both, and look\nupon the leave they gave me to cultivate a friendship with them, and\nto visit them, as a great honour.\n\nThe caliph Haroun Alraschid was so attentive to Cogia Hassan\u2019s\nstory, that he had not perceived the end of it but by his silence.\nCogia Hassan, said he, I have not for a long time heard any thing\nthat has given me so much pleasure, to see the wonderful ways by\nwhich God gave thee thy riches, to make thee happy in this world.\nThou oughtest to continue to return him thanks, by the good use thou\nmakest of his blessings. I am glad I can tell thee, that the same\ndiamond which made thy fortune is now in my treasury; and, for my\npart, I am happy to know how it came there: but because there may\nremain in Saadi some doubts on the singularity of this diamond,\nwhich I look upon to be the most precious and valuable thing I am\nmaster of, I would have you carry him with Saad to my treasurer, who\nshall show it them, to remove Saadi\u2019s unbelief, and to let him see\nthat money is not the only certain means of making a poor man rich\nin a short time, without taking a great deal of pains. I would also\nhave you to tell the keeper of my treasury this story, that he may\nget it put into writing, and that it may be kept with the diamond.\n\nAfter these words, the caliph signified to Cogia Hassan, Sidi\nNonman, and Baba Abdalla, by bowing of his head, that he was\nsatisfied with them; who all took their leaves, by prostrating\nthemselves at the throne, and then retired.\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of Ali Baba and the Forty Robbers, destroyed by a Slave.\n\n\nIn a town in Persia, there lived two brothers, one named Cassim, the\nother Ali Baba. Their father left them no great property; but as he\nhad divided it equally between them, it should seem their fortune\nwould have been equal; but chance directed otherwise.\n\nCassim married a wife, who, soon after their marriage, became\nheiress to a plentiful estate, and a good shop and warehouse full of\nrich merchandizes; so that he all at once became one of the richest\nand most considerable merchants, and lived at his ease.\n\nAli Baba, on the other hand, who married a woman as poor as himself,\nlived in a very mean habitation, and had no other means to maintain\nhis wife and children but his daily labour, by cutting of wood in a\nforest near the town, and bringing it upon three asses, which were\nhis whole substance, to town to sell.\n\nOne day, when Ali Baba was in the forest, and had just cut wood\nenough to load his asses, he saw at a distance a great cloud of\ndust, which seemed to approach towards him. He observed it very\nattentively, and distinguished a large body of horse coming briskly\non; and though they did not talk of robbers in that country, Ali\nBaba began to think that they might prove so; and, without\nconsidering what might become of his asses, he was resolved to save\nhimself. He climbed up a large thick tree, whose branches, at a\nlittle distance from the ground, divided in a circular form so close\nto one another, that there was but little space between them. He\nplaced himself in the middle, from whence he could see all that\npassed without been seen; and this tree stood at the bottom of a\nsingle rock, which was very high above it; and so steep and craggy,\nthat nobody could climb up it.\n\nThis troop, who were all well mounted, and well armed, came to the\nfoot of this rock, and there dismounted. Ali Baba counted forty of\nthem, and, by their looks and equipage, never doubted they were\nthieves. Nor was he mistaken in his opinion; for they were a troop\nof banditti, who, without doing any hurt to the neighbourhood,\nrobbed at a distance, and made that place their rendezvous; and what\nconfirmed him in this opinion was, every man unbridled his horse,\nand tied him to some shrub or other, and hung about his neck a bag\nof corn, which they brought behind them. Then each of them took his\nportmanteau, which seemed to Ali Baba to be full of gold and silver\nby their weight. One, who was most personable amongst them, and whom\nhe took to be their captain, came with his portmanteau on his back\nunder the tree in which Ali Baba was hid, and making his way through\nsome shrubs, pronounced these words so distinctly, _Open, Sesame_,\n[100] that Ali Baba heard him. As soon as the captain of the robbers\nhad uttered these words, a door opened; and after he had made all\nhis troop go in before him, he followed them, and the door shut\nagain of itself.\n\nThe robbers stayed some time within the rock; and Ali Baba, who\nfeared that some one, or all of them together, should come out and\ncatch him, if he should endeavour to make his escape, was obliged to\nsit patiently in the tree. He was, nevertheless, tempted once or\ntwice to get down, and mount one of their horses, and lead another,\ndriving his asses before him with all the haste he could to town;\nbut the uncertainty of the event made him choose the safest way.\n\nAt last the door opened again, and the forty robbers came out. As\nthe captain went in last, he came out first, and stood to see them\nall pass by him; and then Ali Baba heard him make the door close, by\npronouncing these words, _Shut, Sesame_. Every man went and bridled\nhis horse, fastening his portmanteau, and mounting again; and when\nthe captain saw them all ready, he put himself at their head, and\nthey returned the same way they came.\n\nAli Baba did not immediately quit his tree; for said he to himself,\nthey may have forgotten something and come back again, and then I\nshall be taken. He followed them with his eyes as far as he could\nsee them; and after that stayed a considerable time before he came\ndown; remembering the words the captain of the robbers made use of\nto cause the door to open and shut, he had the curiosity to try if\nhis pronouncing it would have the same effect. Accordingly he went\namong the shrubs, and perceiving the door concealed behind them, he\nstood before it, and said, _Open, Sesame_. The door instantly flew\nwide open.\n\nAli Baba, who expected a dark dismal place, was very much surprised\nto see it well lighted and spacious, cut out by men\u2019s hands in\nform of a vault, which received the light from an opening at the top\nof the rock, cut in like manner. He saw all sorts of provisions, and\nrich bales of merchandizes, of silk, stuff, brocade, and valuable\ncarpeting, piled upon one another; and, above all, gold and silver\nin great heaps, and money in great leather purses. The sight of all\nthese riches made him believe that this cave had been occupied for\nages by robbers, who succeeded one another.\n\nAli Baba did not stand long to consider what he should do, but went\nimmediately into the cave, and as noon as he was in, the door shut\nagain. But this did not disturb him, because he knew the secret to\nopen it again. He never regarded the silver, but made the best use\nof his time in carrying out as much of the gold coin, which was in\nbags, at several times, as he thought his three asses could carry.\nWhen he had done, he collected his asses, which were dispersed, and\nwhen he had loaded them with the bags, laid the wood on them in such\na manner that they could not be seen. When he had done, he stood\nbefore the door, and pronouncing the words, _Shut, Sesame_, the door\nclosed after him, for it had shut of itself while he was within, and\nremained open while he was out. He then made the best of his way to\ntown.\n\nWhen Ali Baba got home, he drove his asses into a little yard, and\nshut the gates very carefully, threw off the wood that covered the\nbags, and carried them into his house, and ranged them in order\nbefore his wife, who sat on a sofa.\n\nHis wife handled the bags, and finding them full of money, suspected\nthat her husband had been robbing, insomuch that when he had brought\nthem all in, she could not help saying, Ali Baba, have you been so\nunhappy as to --Be quiet, wife, interrupted Ali Baba; do not\nfrighten yourself: I am no robber, unless he can be one who steals\nfrom robbers. You will no longer entertain an ill opinion of me,\nwhen I shall tell you my good fortune. Then he emptied the bags,\nwhich raised such a great heap of gold as dazzled his wife\u2019s eyes:\nand when he had done, he told her the whole adventure from the\nbeginning to the end; and, above all, recommended it to her to keep\nit secret.\n\nThe wife, recovered and cured of her fears, rejoiced with her\nhusband at their good luck, and would count the money piece by\npiece. Wife, replied Ali Baba, you do not know what you undertake,\nwhen you pretend to count the money; you will never have done. I\nwill go and dig a hole and bury it; there is no time to be lost. You\nare in the right of it, husband, replied the wife; but let us know,\nas nigh as possible, how much we have. I will go and borrow a small\nmeasure in the neighbourhood and measure it, while you dig the hole.\nWhat you are going to do is to no purpose, wife, said Ali Baba; if\nyou would take my advice, you had better let it alone; but be sure\nto keep the secret, and do what you please.\n\nAway the wife ran to her brother-in-law Cassim, who lived just by,\nbut was not then at home; and addressing herself to his wife,\ndesired her to lend her a measure for a little while. Her\nsister-in-law asked her whether she would have a great or a small\none. The other asked for a small one. She bid her stay a little, and\nshe would readily fetch one.\n\nThe sister-in-law did so, but as she knew very well Ali Baba\u2019s\npoverty, she was curious to know what sort of grain his wife wanted\nto measure, and bethought herself of artfully putting some suet at\nthe bottom of the measure, and brought it to her with an excuse,\nthat she was sorry that she had made her stay so long, but that she\ncould not find it sooner.\n\nAli Baba\u2019s wife went home, set the measure upon the heap of gold,\nand filled it and emptied it often, at a small distance upon the\nsofa, till she had done: and she was very well satisfied to find the\nnumber of measures amounted to so many as they did, and went to tell\nher husband, who had almost finished digging the hole. While Ali\nBaba was burying the gold, his wife, to shew her exactness and\ndiligence to her sister-in-law, carried the measure back again, but\nwithout taking notice that a piece of gold stuck at the bottom.\nSister, said she, giving it to her again, you see that I have not\nkept your measure long: I am obliged to you for it, and return it\nwith thanks.\n\n[Illustration: ALI BABA DISPLAYING HIS TREASURE.]\n\nAs soon as Ali Baba\u2019s wife\u2019s back was turned, Cassim\u2019s wife\nlooked at the bottom of the measure, and was in an inexpressible\nsurprise to find a piece of gold stuck to it. Envy immediately\npossessed her breast. What! said she, has Ali Baba gold so plentiful\nas to measure it? Where has that poor wretch got all this gold?\nCassim, her husband, was not at home, as I said before, but at his\nshop, which he left always in the evening. His wife waited for him,\nand thought the time an age; so great was her impatience to tell him\nthe news, at which he would be as much surprised.\n\nWhen Cassim came home, his wife said to him, Cassim, I warrant you,\nyou think yourself rich, but you are much mistaken; Ali Baba is\ninfinitely richer than you; he does not count his money, but\nmeasures it. Cassim desired her to explain the riddle, which she\ndid, by telling him the stratagem she had made use of to make the\ndiscovery, and showed him the piece of money, which was so old a\ncoin that they could not tell in what prince\u2019s reign it was coined.\n\nCassim, instead of being pleased at his brother\u2019s prosperity,\nconceived a mortal jealousy, and could not sleep all that night for\nit, but went to him in the morning before sunrise. Now Cassim, after\nhe married the rich widow, never treated Ali Baba as a brother, but\nforgot him. Ali Baba, said he, accosting him, you are very reserved\nin your affairs: you pretend to be miserably poor, and yet you\nmeasure gold. How, brother! replied Ali Baba; I do not know what you\nmean: explain yourself. Do not pretend ignorance, replied Cassim,\nshowing him the piece of gold his wife had given him. How many of\nthese pieces, added he, have you? My wife found this at the bottom\nof the measure you borrowed yesterday.\n\nBy this discourse, Ali Baba perceived that Cassim and his wife,\nthrough his own wife\u2019s folly, knew what they had so much reason to\nkeep secret; but what was done could not be recalled; therefore,\nwithout showing the least surprise or trouble, he confessed all, and\ntold his brother by what chance he had discovered this retreat of\nthe thieves, and in what place it was; and offered him part of his\ntreasure to keep the secret. I expect as much, replied Cassim\nhaughtily; but I will know exactly where this treasure is, and the\nsigns and tokens how I may go to it myself when I have a mind;\notherwise I will go and inform against you, and then you will not\nonly get no more, but will lose all that you have got, and I shall\nhave my share for my information.\n\nAli Baba, more out of his natural good temper, than frightened by\nthe insulting menaces of a barbarous brother, told him all he\ndesired, and even the very words he was to make use of to go into\nthe cave, and to come out again.\n\nCassim, who wanted no more of Ali Baba, left him, resolving to be\nbeforehand with him, and hoping to get all the treasure to himself.\nHe rose early the next morning, a long time before the sun, and set\nout with ten mules loaded with great chests, which he designed to\nfill: proposing to carry many more the next time, according to the\nriches he found; and followed the road which Ali Baba had told him.\nHe was not long before he came to the rock, and found out the place\nby the tree, and other marks his brother had given him. When he came\nto the door, he pronounced these words, _Open, Sesame_, and it\nopened; and when he was in, shut again. In examining the cave, he\nwas in great admiration to find much more riches than he apprehended\nby Ali Baba\u2019s relation. He was so covetous and fond of riches,\nthat he could have spent the whole day in feasting his eyes with so\nmuch treasure, if the thoughts that he came to carry some away with\nhim, and loading his mules, had not hindered him. He laid as many\nbags of gold as he could carry away at the door, and coming at last\nto open the door, his thoughts were so full of the great riches he\nshould possess, that he could not think of the necessary word; but\ninstead of _Sesame_, said, _Open, Barley_, and was very much amazed\nto find that the door did not open, but remained fast shut. He named\nseveral sorts of grain, all but the right, and the door would not\nopen.\n\nCassim never expected such an accident, and was so frightened at the\ndanger he was in, that the more he endeavoured to remember the word\n_Sesame_, the more his memory was confounded, and he had as much\nforgotten it as if he had never heard it in his life before. He\nthrew down the bags he had loaded himself with, and walked hastily\nup and down the cave, without having the least regard to all the\nriches that were round him. In this miserable condition we will\nleave him, bewailing his fate, and undeserving of pity.\n\nAbout noon the robbers returned to their cave, and at some distance\nfrom it saw Cassim\u2019s mules straggling about the rock, with great\nchests on their backs. Alarmed at this novelty they gallopped full\nspeed to the cave. They drove away the mules, which Cassim had\nneglected to fasten, and they strayed away through the forest so\nfar, that they were soon out of sight. The robbers never gave\nthemselves the trouble to pursue the mules: they were more concerned\nto know who they belonged to. And while some of them searched about\nthe rock, the captain and the rest went directly to the door, with\ntheir naked sabres in their hands, and pronouncing the words, it\nopened.\n\nCassim, who heard the noise of the horses\u2019 feet from the middle of\nthe cave, never doubted of the coming of the robbers, and his\napproaching death; but was resolved to make one effort to escape\nfrom them. To this end he stood ready at the door, and no sooner\nheard the word _Sesame_, which he had forgotten, and saw the door\nopen, but he jumped briskly out, and threw the captain down, but\ncould not escape the other robbers, who with their sabres soon\ndeprived him of life.\n\nThe first care of the robbers after this was to go into the cave.\nThey found all the bags which Cassim had brought to the door, to be\nmore ready to load his mules with, and carried them all back again\nto their places, without perceiving what Ali Baba had taken away\nbefore. Then holding a council, and deliberating upon this matter,\nthey guessed that Cassim, when he was in, could not get out again;\nbut they could not imagine how he got in. It came into their heads\nthat he might have got down by the top of the cave; but the opening\nby which it received light was so high, and the top of the rock so\ninaccessible without, besides that nothing showed that he had done\nso, that they believed it impracticable for them to find out. That\nhe came in at the door they could not satisfy themselves, unless he\nhad the secret of making it open. In short, none of them could\nimagine which way he entered; for they were all persuaded that\nnobody knew their secret, little imagining that Ali Baba had watched\nthem. But, however it happened, it was a matter of the greatest\nimportance to them to secure their riches. They agreed therefore to\ncut Cassim\u2019s body into four quarters, and to hang two on one side,\nand two on the other, within the door of the cave, to terrify any\nperson that should attempt the same thing, determining not to return\nto the cave till the stench of the body was completely exhaled. They\nhad no sooner taken this resolution, but they executed it; and when\nthey had nothing more to detain them, they left the place of their\nretreat well closed. They mounted their horses, and went to beat the\nroads again, and to attack the caravans they should meet.\n\nIn the mean time Cassim\u2019s wife was very uneasy when night came,\nand her husband was not returned. She ran to Ali Baba in a terrible\nfright, and said, I believe, brother-in-law, that you know that\nCassim, your brother, is gone to the forest, and upon what account:\nit is now night, and he is not returned: I am afraid some misfortune\nhas come to him. Ali Baba, who never disputed but that his brother,\nafter what he had said to him, would go to the forest, declined\ngoing himself that day, for fear of giving him any umbrage;\ntherefore told her, without any reflection upon her husband\u2019s\nunhandsome behaviour, that she need not frighten herself, for that\ncertainly Cassim did not think it proper to come into the town till\nthe night should be pretty far advanced.\n\nCassim\u2019s wife, considering how much it concerned her husband to\nkeep this thing secret, was the more easily persuaded to believe\nhim. She went home again, and waited patiently till midnight. Then\nher fears redoubled with grief the more sensible, because she durst\nnot vent it, nor show it, but was forced to keep it secret from the\nneighbourhood. Then, as if her fault had been irreparable, she\nrepented of her foolish curiosity, and cursed her desire of\npenetrating into the affairs of her brother and sister-in-law. She\nspent all that night in weeping; and as soon as it was day, went to\nthem, telling them, by her tears, the cause of her coming.\n\nAli Baba did not wait for his sister-in-law to desire him to go and\nsee what was become of Cassim, but went immediately with his three\nasses, begging of her first to moderate her affliction. He went to\nthe forest, and when he came near the rock, and having seen neither\nhis brother nor his mules in his way, he was very much surprised to\nsee some blood spilt by the door, which he took for an ill omen; but\nwhen he had pronounced the word, and the door opened, he was much\nmore startled at the dismal sight of his brother\u2019s quarters. He\nwas not long in determining how he should pay the last dues to his\nbrother, and without remembering the little brotherly friendship he\nhad for him, went into the cave, to find something to wrap them in,\nand loaded one of his asses with them, and covered them over with\nwood. The other two asses he loaded with bags of gold, covering them\nwith wood also as before; and then bidding the door shut, came away;\nbut was so cautious as to stop some time at the end of the forest,\nthat he might not go into the town before night. When he came home,\nhe drove the two asses loaded with gold into his little yard, and\nleft the care of unloading them to his wife, while he led the other\nto his sister-in-law\u2019s.\n\nAli Baba knocked at the door, which was opened by Morgiana, a\ncunning, intelligent slave, fruitful in inventions to ensure success\nin the most difficult undertakings: and Ali Baba knew her to be\nsuch. When he came into the court, he unloaded the ass, and taking\nMorgiana aside, said to her, The first thing I ask of you is an\ninviolable secrecy, which you will find is necessary both for your\nmistress\u2019s sake and mine. Your master\u2019s body is contained in\nthese two bundles, and our business is, to bury him as if he died a\nnatural death. Go tell your mistress I want to speak with her, and\nmind what I say to you.\n\nMorgiana went to her mistress, and Ali Baba followed her. Well,\nbrother, said she, with great impatience, what news do you bring me\nof my husband? I perceive no comfort in your countenance. Sister,\nanswered Ali Baba, I cannot tell you any thing before you hear my\nstory from the beginning to the end, without speaking a word; for it\nis of as great importance to you as to me to keep what has happened\nsecret. Alas! said she, this preamble lets me know that my husband\nis dead; but at the same time I know the necessity of the secrecy\nyou require of me, and I must constrain myself: say on; I will hear\nyou.\n\nThen Ali Baba told his sister the success of his journey, till he\ncame to the finding of Cassim\u2019s body. Now, said he, sister, I have\nsomething to tell you, which will afflict you much the more, because\nit is what you so little expect; but it cannot now be remedied; and\nif any thing can comfort you, I offer to put that little which God\nhath sent me, to what you have, and marry you; assuring you that my\nwife will not be jealous, and that we shall live happily together.\nIf this proposal is agreeable to you, we must think of acting so, as\nthat my brother should appear to have died a natural death. I think\nyou may leave the management of it to Morgiana, and I will\ncontribute all that lies in my power.\n\nWhat could Cassim\u2019s widow do better than accept of this proposal?\nFor though her first husband had left behind him plentiful\nsubstance, this second was much richer, and by the discovery of this\ntreasure might be much more so. Instead of rejecting the offer, she\nlooked upon it as a reasonable motive to comfort her; and drying up\nher tears, which began to flow abundantly, and suppressing the\noutcries usual with women who have lost their husbands, showed Ali\nBaba she approved of his proposal. Ali Baba left the widow, and\nrecommended to Morgiana to act her part well, and then returned home\nwith his ass.\n\nMorgiana went out at the same time to an apothecary, and asked him\nfor a sort of lozenges, which he prepared, and were very efficacious\nin the most dangerous distempers. The apothecary asked her who was\nsick at her master\u2019s. She replied with a sigh, Her good master\nCassim himself: that they knew not what his distemper was, but that\nhe could neither eat nor speak. After these words Morgiana carried\nthe lozenges home with her, and the next morning went to the same\napothecary\u2019s again, and, with tears in her eyes, asked for an\nessence which they used to give to sick people only when at the last\nextremity. Alas! said she, taking it from the apothecary, I am\nafraid that this remedy will have no better effect than the\nlozenges, and that I shall lose my good master.\n\nOn the other hand, as Ali Baba and his wife were often seen to go\nbetween Cassim\u2019s and their own house all that day, and to seem\nmelancholy, nobody was surprised in the evening to hear the\nlamentable shrieks and cries of Cassim\u2019s wife and Morgiana, who\ntold it every where that her master was dead.\n\nThe next morning, soon after day appeared, Morgiana, who knew a\ncertain old cobbler that opened his stall early, before other\npeople, went to him, and bidding him good-morrow, put a piece of\ngold into his hand. Well, said Baba Mustapha, which was his name,\nand who was a merry old fellow, looking on the gold, though it was\nhardly day-light, and seeing what it was, this is good hansel: what\nmust I do for it? I am ready.\n\nBaba Mustapha, said Morgiana, you must take with you your sewing\ntackle, and go with me; but I must tell you, I shall blindfold you\nwhen you come to such a place.\n\nBaba Mustapha seemed to boggle a little at these words. Oh, ho!\nreplied he, you would have me do something against my conscience, or\nagainst my honour. God forbid! said Morgiana, putting another piece\nof gold into his hand, that I should ask any thing that is contrary\nto your honour; only come along with me, and fear nothing.\n\nBaba Mustapha went with Morgiana, who, after she had bound his eyes\nwith a handkerchief, at the place she told him of, carried him to\nher deceased master\u2019s house, and never unloosed his eyes till he\ncame into the room where she had put the corpse together. Baba\nMustapha, said she, you must make haste, and sew these quarters\ntogether; and when you have done, I will give you another piece of\ngold.\n\nAfter Baba Mustapha had done, she blindfolded him again, and gave\nhim the third piece of gold, as she promised, recommending secrecy\nto him, carried him back to the place where she first bound his\neyes, pulled off the bandage, and let him go home, but watched him\nthat he returned to his stall, till he was quite out of sight, for\nfear he should have the curiosity to return and dodge her, and then\nwent home.\n\nBy the time Morgiana had warmed some water to wash the body, Ali\nBaba came with incense to embalm it, and bury it with the usual\nceremonies. Not long after, the joiner, according to Ali Baba\u2019s\norders, brought the coffin, which Morgiana, that he might find out\nnothing, received at the door, and helped Ali Baba to put the body\ninto it; and as soon as he had nailed it up, she went to the mosque\nto tell the iman that they were ready. The people of the mosque,\nwhose business it was to wash the dead, offered to perform their\nduty, but she told them it was done already.\n\nMorgiana had scarce got home before the iman and the other ministers\nof the mosque came. Four neighbours carried the corpse on their\nshoulders to the burying-ground, following the iman, who recited\nsome prayers. Morgiana, as a slave to the deceased, followed the\ncorpse, weeping, beating her breast, and tearing her hair; and Ali\nBaba came after with some neighbours, who often relieved the others\nin carrying the corpse to the burying ground.\n\nCassim\u2019s wife stayed at home mourning, uttering lamentable cries\nwith the women of the neighbourhood, who came according to custom\nduring the funeral, and, joining their lamentations with hers,\nfilled the quarter far and near with sorrow.\n\nIn this manner Cassim\u2019s melancholy death was concealed and hushed\nup between Ali Baba, his wife, Cassim\u2019s widow, and Morgiana, with\nso much contrivance that nobody in the city had the least knowledge\nor suspicion of it.\n\nThree or four days after the funeral, Ali Baba removed his few goods\nto his brother\u2019s widow\u2019s house; but the money he had taken from\nthe robbers he conveyed thither by night; and soon after the\nmarriage with his sister-in-law was published, and as these\nmarriages are common in our religion, nobody was surprised.\n\nAs for Cassim\u2019s shop, Ali Baba gave it to his own eldest son, who\nhad been some time out of his apprenticeship to a great merchant,\npromising him withal, that if he managed well, he would soon give\nhim a fortune to marry very advantageously according to his\nsituation.\n\nLet us now leave Ali Baba to enjoy the beginning of his good\nfortune, and return to the forty robbers.\n\nThey came again at the appointed time to visit their retreat in the\nforest; but how great was their surprise to find Cassim\u2019s body\ntaken away, and some of their bags of gold. We are certainly\ndiscovered, said the captain, and shall be undone, if we do not take\ncare and speedily apply some remedy; otherwise we shall insensibly\nlose all the riches which our ancestors have been so many years\namassing together with so much pains and danger. All that we can\nthink of this loss which we have sustained is, that the thief whom\nwe have surprised had the secret of opening the door, and we came\nluckily as he was coming out: but his body being removed, and with\nit some of our money, plainly shows, that he has an accomplice; and\nas it is likely that there were but two who had got this secret, and\none has been caught, we must look narrowly after the other. What say\nyou to it, my lads?\n\nAll the robbers thought the captain\u2019s proposal so reasonable, that\nthey unanimously approved of it, and agreed that they must lay all\nother enterprises aside, to follow this closely, and not give it up\ntill they had succeeded.\n\nI expected no less, said the captain, from your courage and bravery:\nbut, first of all, one of you who is bold, artful, and enterprising,\nmust go into the town dressed like a traveller and stranger, and\nexert all his contrivance to try if he can hear any talk of the\nstrange death of the man whom we have killed, as he deserved, and to\nendeavour to find out who he was, and where he lived. This is a\nmatter of the first importance for us to know, that we may do\nnothing which we may have reason to repent of, by discovering\nourselves in a country where we have lived so long unknown, and\nwhere we have so much reason to continue; but to warn that man who\nshall take upon himself this commission, and to prevent our being\ndeceived by his giving us a false report, which may be the cause of\nour ruin, I ask you all, if you do not think it fit, that in that\ncase he shall submit to suffer death?\n\nWithout waiting for the suffrages of his companions, one of the\nrobbers started up, and said, I submit to this law, and think it an\nhonour to expose my life, by taking such a commission upon me; but\nremember, at least, if I do not succeed, that I neither wanted\ncourage nor good-will to serve the troop.\n\nAfter this robber had received great commendations from the captain\nand his comrades, he disguised himself so that nobody would take him\nfor what he was; and taking his leave of the troop that night, went\ninto the town just at day-break; and walked up and down till he came\nto Baba Mustapha\u2019s stall, which was always open before any of the\nshops of the town.\n\nBaba Mustapha was set on his seat with an awl in his hand, just\ngoing to work. The robber saluted him, bidding him good-morrow; and\nperceiving that he was very old, he said, Honest man, you begin to\nwork very early: is it possible that any one of your age can see so\nwell? I question, if it was somewhat lighter, whether you could see\nto stitch.\n\nCertainly, replied Baba Mustapha, you must be a stranger, and do not\nknow me; for, old as I am, I have extraordinary good eyes; and you\nwill not doubt it when I tell you, that I sewed a dead body together\nin a place where I had not so much light as I have now.\n\nThe robber was overjoyed to think that he addressed himself, at his\nfirst coming into the town, to a man who gave him the intelligence\nhe wanted, without asking him. A dead body! replied he with\namazement, to make him explain himself. What could you sew up a dead\nbody for? added he: you mean, you sewed up his winding-sheet. No,\nno, answered Baba Mustapha, I know what I say; you want to have me\nspeak out, but you shall know no more.\n\nThe robber wanted no greater insight to be persuaded that he had\ndiscovered what he came about. He pulled out a piece of gold, and\nputting it into Baba Mustapha\u2019s hand, said to him, I do not want\nto know your secret, though I can assure you I would not divulge it,\nif you trusted me with it. The only thing which I desire of you, is\nto do me the favour to show the house where you stitched up the dead\nbody.\n\nIf I would do you that favour which you ask of me, replied Baba\nMustapha, holding the money in his hand, ready to return it, I\nassure you I cannot: and you may believe me, on my word, I was\ncarried to a certain place, where they first blinded me, and then\nled me to the house, and brought me back again after the same\nmanner; therefore you see the impossibility of doing what you desire.\n\nWell, replied the robber, you may remember a little of the way that\nyou was led blindfolded. Come, let me blind your eyes at the same\nplace. We will walk together by the same way and turnings; perhaps\nyou may remember some part; and as every body ought to be paid for\ntheir trouble, there is another piece of gold for you; gratify me in\nwhat I ask you. So saying, he put another piece of gold into his\nhand.\n\nThe two pieces of gold were great temptations to Baba Mustapha. He\nlooked at them a long time in his hand, without saying a word,\nthinking with himself what he should do; but at last he pulled out\nhis purse, and put them in. I cannot assure you, said he to the\nrobber, that I remember the way exactly; but, since you desire it, I\nwill try what I can do. At these words Baba Mustapha rose up, to the\ngreat satisfaction of the robber, and without shutting up his shop,\nwhere he had nothing valuable to lose, he led the robber to the\nplace where Morgiana bound his eyes. It was here, said Baba\nMustapha, I was blindfolded; and I turned as you see me. The robber,\nwho had his handkerchief ready, tied it over his eyes, and walked by\nhim till he stopped, partly leading him, and partly guided by him. I\nthink, said Baba Mustapha, I went no farther, and he had now stopped\ndirectly at Cassim\u2019s house where Ali Baba lived then; upon which\nthe thief, before he pulled off the band, marked the door with a\npiece of chalk, which he had ready in his hand; and when he pulled\nit off, he asked him if he knew whose house that was: to which Baba\nMustapha replied, that as he did not live in that neighbourhood, he\ncould not tell.\n\nThe robber, finding he could discover no more from Baba Mustapha,\nthanked him for the trouble he had given him, and left him to go\nback to his stall, while he returned to the forest, persuaded that\nhe should be very well received.\n\nA little after the robber and Baba Mustapha parted, Morgiana went\nout of Ali Baba\u2019s house for something, and coming home again,\nseeing the mark the robber had made, she stopped to observe it. What\nis the meaning of this mark? said she to herself: somebody intends\nmy master no good, or else some boy has been playing the rogue with\nit: with whatever intention it was done, added she, it is good to\nguard against the worst. Accordingly she went and fetched a piece of\nchalk, and marked two or three doors on each side in the same\nmanner, without saying a word to her master or mistress.\n\nIn the mean time, the thief rejoined his troop again in the forest,\nand told them the good success he had; expatiating upon his good\nfortune, in meeting so soon with the only person who could inform\nhim of what he wanted to know. All the robbers listened to him with\nthe utmost satisfaction; when the captain, after commending his\ndiligence, addressing himself to them all, said, Comrades, we have\nno time to lose: let us all set off well armed, without its\nappearing who we are; and that we may not give any suspicion, let\none or two go privately into the town together, and appoint the\nrendezvous in the great square; and in the mean time, our comrade,\nwho brought us the good news, and I, will go and find out the house,\nthat we may consult what is best to be done.\n\nThis speech and plan was approved by all, and they were soon ready.\nThey filed off in small parcels of two or three, at the proper\ndistance from each other: and all got into the town without being in\nthe least suspected. The captain, and he that came in the morning as\na spy, came in last of all. He led the captain into the street where\nhe had marked Ali Baba\u2019s house, and when they came to one of the\nhouses which Morgiana had marked, he pointed it out. But going a\nlittle farther, to prevent being taken notice of, the captain\nobserved that the next door was chalked after the same manner, and\nin the same place; and showing it to his guide, asked him which\nhouse it was, that or the first. The guide was so confounded, that\nhe knew not what answer to make; and much less, when he and the\ncaptain saw five or six houses besides marked after the same manner.\nHe assured the captain, with an oath, that he had marked but one,\nand could not tell who had chalked the rest so like to that which he\nmarked, and owned, in that confusion, he could not distinguish it.\n\nThe captain, finding that their design proved abortive, went\ndirectly to the place of rendezvous, and told the first of his troop\nthat he met, that they had lost their labour, and must return to\ntheir cave the same way as they came. He himself set them the\nexample, and they all returned as they came.\n\nWhen the troop was all got together, the captain told them the\nreason of their returning; and presently the conductor was declared\nby all worthy of death. He condemned himself, acknowledging that he\nought to have taken better precaution, and kneeled down to receive\nthe stroke from him that was appointed to cut off his head.\n\nBut as it was the safety of the troop that an injury should not go\nunpunished, another of the gang, who promised himself that he should\nsucceed better, presented himself, and his offer being accepted, he\nwent and corrupted Baba Mustapha, as the other had done; and being\nshown the house, marked it, in a place more remote from sight, with\nred chalk.\n\nNot long after, Morgiana, whose eyes nothing could escape, went out,\nand seeing the red chalk, and arguing after the same manner with\nherself, marked the other neighbours\u2019 houses in the same place and\nmanner.\n\nThe robber, at his return to his company, valued himself very much\nupon the precaution he had taken, which he looked upon as an\ninfallible way of distinguishing Ali Baba\u2019s house from his\nneighbours, and the captain and all of them thought it must succeed.\nThey conveyed themselves into the town in the same manner as before;\nand when the robber and his captain came to the street, they found\nthe same difficulty; at which the captain was enraged, and the\nrobber in as great confusion as his predecessor.\n\nThus the captain and his troop were forced to retire a second time,\nand much more dissatisfied; and the robber, as the author of the\nmistake, underwent the same punishment, which he willingly submitted\nto.\n\nThe captain, having lost two brave fellows of his troop, was afraid\nof diminishing it too much by pursuing this plan to get information\nabout Ali Baba\u2019s house. He found, by their example, that their\nheads were not so good as their hands on such occasions; and\ntherefore resolved to take upon himself this important commission.\n\nAccordingly he went and addressed himself to Baba Mustapha, who did\nhim the same piece of service he had done to the former. He never\namused himself with setting any particular mark on the house, but\nexamined and observed it so carefully, by passing often by it, that\nit was impossible for him to mistake it.\n\nThe captain, very well satisfied with his journey, and informed of\nwhat he wanted to know, returned to the forest; and when he came\ninto the cave, where the troop waited for him, he said, Now,\ncomrades, nothing can prevent our full revenge; I am certain of the\nhouse, and in my way hither I have thought how to put it in\nexecution, and if any one knows a better expedient, let him\ncommunicate it. Then he told them his contrivance; and as they\napproved of it, he ordered them to go into the towns and villages\nabout, and buy nineteen mules, and thirty-eight large leather jars,\none full, and the others all empty.\n\nIn two or three days time the robbers purchased the mules and jars,\nand as the mouths of the jars were rather too narrow for his\npurpose, the captain caused them to be widened; and after having put\none of his men into each, with the weapons which he thought fit,\nleaving open the seam which had been undone to leave them room to\nbreathe, he rubbed the jars on the outside with oil from the full\nvessel.\n\nThings being thus prepared, when the nineteen mules were loaded with\nthirty-seven robbers in jars, and the jar of oil, the captain, as\ntheir driver, set out with them, and reached the town by the dusk of\nthe evening, as he intended. He led them through the streets till he\ncame to Ali Baba\u2019s, at whose door he designed to have knocked; but\nwas prevented by his sitting there, after supper, to take a little\nfresh air. He stopped his mules, and addressed himself to him, and\nsaid, I have brought some oil here, a great way, to sell at\ntomorrow\u2019s market; and it is now so late, that I do not know where\nto lodge. If I should not be troublesome to you, do me the favour to\nlet me pass the night with you, and I shall be very much obliged to\nyou.\n\nThough Ali Baba had seen the captain of the robbers in the forest,\nand had heard him speak, it was impossible for him to know him in\nthe disguise of an oil-merchant. He told him he should be welcome,\nand immediately opened his gates for the mules to go into the yard.\nAt the same time he called to a slave he had, and ordered him, when\nthe mules were unloaded, not only to put them into the stable, but\nto give them corn and hay; and then went to Morgiana, to bid her get\na good hot supper for his guest, and make him a good bed.\n\nHe did more. To make his guest as welcome as possible, when he saw\nthe captain had unloaded his mules, and that they were put into the\nstable as he ordered, and he was looking for a place to pass the\nnight in the air, he brought him into the hall where he received his\ncompany, telling him he would not suffer him to be in the court. The\ncaptain excused himself, on pretence of not being troublesome; but\nreally to have room to execute his design, and it was not till after\nthe most pressing importunity that he yielded. Ali Baba, not content\nto keep company with the man who had a design on his life, till\nsupper was ready, continued talking with him till it was ended, and\nrepeating his offer of service.\n\nThe captain rose up at the same time, and went with him to the door;\nand while Ali Baba went into the kitchen to speak to Morgiana, he\nwent into the yard, under pretence of looking at his mules. Ali\nBaba, after charging Morgiana afresh to take great care of his\nguest, said to her, Tomorrow morning I design to go to the bath\nbefore day; take care my bathing linen be ready, and give them to\nAbdalla, which was the slave\u2019s name, and make me some good broth\nagainst I come back. After this he went to bed.\n\nIn the mean time the captain of the robbers went from the stable to\ngive his people orders what to do; and beginning at the first jar,\nand so on to the last, said to each man, As soon as I throw some\nstones out of the chamber window where I lie, do not fail to cut the\njar open with the knife you have about you, pointed and sharpened\nfor the purpose, and come out, and I will be presently with you.\nAfter this he returned into the kitchen, and Morgiana taking up a\nlight, conducted him to his chamber, where, after she had asked him\nif he wanted any thing, she left him; and he, to avoid any\nsuspicion, put the light out soon after, and laid himself down in\nhis clothes, that he might be the more ready to rise again.\n\nMorgiana, remembering Ali Baba\u2019s orders, got his bathing linen\nready, and ordered Abdalla, who was not then gone to bed, to set on\nthe pot for the broth; but while she scummed the pot the lamp went\nout, and there was no more oil in the house, nor any candles. What\nto do she did not know, for the broth must be made. Abdalla seeing\nher very uneasy, said, Do not fret and tease yourself, but go into\nthe yard, and take some oil out of one of the jars.\n\nMorgiana thanked Abdalla for his advice; and while he went to bed,\nnear Ali Baba\u2019s room, that he might be the better able to rise and\nfollow Ali Baba to the bath, she took the oil-pot, and went into the\nyard; and as she came nigh the first jar, the robber within said\nsoftly, Is it time?\n\nThough the robber spoke low, Morgiana was struck with the voice the\nmore, because the captain, when he unloaded the mules, opened this\nand all the other jars, to give air to his men, who were ill enough\nat their ease, without wanting room to breathe.\n\nAny other slave but Morgiana, so surprised as she was to find a man\nin a jar, instead of the oil she wanted, would have made such a\nnoise, as to have given an alarm, which would have been attended\nwith ill consequences; whereas Morgiana, apprehending immediately\nthe importance of keeping the secret, and the danger Ali Baba, his\nfamily, and she herself were in, and the necessity of applying a\nspeedy remedy without noise, conceived at once the means, and\ncollecting herself without showing the least emotion, answered, Not\nyet, but presently. She went in this manner to all the jars, giving\nthe same answer, till she came to the jar of oil.\n\nBy this means, Morgiana found that her master Ali Baba, who thought\nthat he had entertained an oil merchant, had admitted thirty-eight\nrobbers into his house; looking on this pretended merchant as their\ncaptain. She made what haste she could to fill her oil pot, and\nreturned into her kitchen; where, as soon as she had lighted her\nlamp, she took a great kettle, and went again to the oil jar, filled\nthe kettle, and set it on a great wood fire to boil; and as soon as\nit boiled, went and poured enough into every jar to stifle and\ndestroy the robber within.\n\nWhen this action, worthy of the courage of Morgiana, was executed\nwithout any noise, as she had projected, she returned into the\nkitchen with the empty kettle, and shut the door: and having put out\nthe great fire she had made to boil the oil, and leaving just enough\nto make the broth, put out also the lamp, and remained silent;\nresolving not to go to bed till she had observed what was to follow\nthrough a window of the kitchen, which opened into the yard, as far\nas the darkness of the night permitted.\n\nShe had not waited a quarter of an hour, before the captain of the\nrobbers waked, got up, and opened the window; and finding no light,\nand hearing no noise, or any one stirring in the house, gave the\nsignal, by throwing little stones, several of which hit the jars, as\nhe knew by the sound they gave. Then he listened, and not hearing\nnor perceiving any thing whereby he could judge that his companions\nstirred, he began to grow very uneasy, and threw stones again a\nsecond and a third time, and could not comprehend the reason that\nnone of them should answer to his signal: cruelly alarmed, he went\nsoftly down into the yard, and going to the first jar, and asking\nthe robber, whom he thought alive, if he was asleep, he smelled the\nhot boiled oil, which sent forth a steam out of the jar, and knew\nthereby that his plot to murder Ali Baba and plunder his house was\ndiscovered. Examining all the jars one after another, he found that\nall his gang were dead; and by the oil he missed out of the last\njar, he guessed at the means and manner of their deaths. Enraged to\ndespair at having failed in his design, he forced the lock of a\ndoor, that led from the yard to the garden, and, climbing over the\nwalls of several gardens, at last made his escape.\n\nWhen Morgiana heard no noise, and found, after waiting some time,\nthat the captain did not return, she guessed that he chose rather to\nmake his escape by the gardens than by the street door, which was\ndouble locked; satisfied and pleased to have succeeded so well, and\nsecured the house, she went to bed and fell asleep.\n\nAli Baba rose before day, and, followed by his slave, went to the\nbaths, entirely ignorant of the amazing accident that had happened\nat home; for Morgiana did not think it right to wake him before for\nfear of losing her opportunity; and afterwards she thought it\nneedless to disturb him.\n\nWhen he returned from the baths, and the sun had risen, he was very\nmuch surprised to see the oil jars, and that the merchant was not\ngone with the mules. He asked Morgiana, who opened the door, and had\nlet all things stand as they were, that he might see them, the\nreason of it. My good master, answered she, God preserve you and all\nyour family! you will be better informed of what you wish to know,\nwhen you have seen what I have to show you, if you will give\nyourself the trouble to follow me.\n\nAs soon as Morgiana had shut the door, Ali Baba followed her; and\nwhen she brought him into the yard, she bid him look into the first\njar, and see if there was any oil. Ali Baba did so, and seeing a\nman, started back frightened, and cried out. Do not be afraid, said\nMorgiana; the man you see there can neither do you nor any body else\nany harm. He is dead. Ah, Morgiana! said Ali Baba, what is it you\nshow me? Explain the meaning of it to me. I will, replied Morgiana;\nmoderate your astonishment, and do not excite the curiosity of your\nneighbours; for it is of great importance to keep this affair\nsecret. Look in all the other jars.\n\nAli Baba examined all the other jars, one after another; and when he\ncame to that which had the oil in it, he found it prodigiously sunk,\nand stood for some time motionless, sometimes looking on the jars,\nand sometimes on Morgiana, without saying a word, so great was his\nsurprise; at last, when he had recovered himself he said, And what\nis become of the merchant?\n\nMerchant! answered she: he is as much one as I am. I will tell you\nwho he is, and what is become of him; but you had better hear the\nstory in your own chamber; for it is time for your health that you\nhad your broth after your bathing.\n\nWhile Ali Baba went into his chamber, Morgiana went into the kitchen\nto fetch the broth, and carry it to him: but before he would drink\nit, he first bid her satisfy his impatience, and tell him the story\nwith all its circumstances; and she obeyed him.\n\nLast night, sir, said she, when you were gone to bed, I got your\nbathing linen ready, and gave them to Abdalla; afterwards I set on\nthe pot for the broth, and as I was skimming the pot, the lamp, for\nwant of oil, went out; and as there was not a drop more in the\nhouse, I looked for a candle, but could not find one. Abdalla,\nseeing me vexed, put me in mind of the jars of oil which stood in\nthe yard. I took the oil pot, and went directly to the jar which\nstood nearest to me; and when I came to it, I heard a voice within\nit say, Is it time? Without being dismayed, and comprehending\nimmediately the malicious intention of the pretended oil merchant, I\nanswered, Not yet, but presently. Then I went to the next, and\nanother voice asked me the same question, and I returned the same\nanswer; and so on, till I came to the last, which I found full of\noil: with which I filled my pot.\n\nWhen I considered that there were thirty-seven robbers in the yard,\nwho only waited for a signal to be given by the captain, whom you\ntook to be an oil merchant, and entertained so handsomely, I thought\nthere was no time to be lost: I carried my pot of oil into the\nkitchen, lighted the lamp, and afterwards took the biggest kettle I\nhad, went and filled it full of oil, and set it on the fire to boil,\nand then went and poured as much into each jar as was sufficient to\nprevent them from executing the pernicious design they came about:\nafter this I retired into the kitchen, and put out the lamp; but,\nbefore I went to bed, I waited at the window to know what measures\nthe pretended merchant would take.\n\nAfter I had watched some time for the signal, he threw some stones\nout of the window against the jars, and neither hearing nor\nperceiving any body stirring, after throwing three times, he came\ndown, and I saw him go to every jar, after which, through the\ndarkness of the night, I lost sight of him. I waited some time\nlonger, and finding that he did not return, I never doubted but\nthat, seeing he had missed his aim, he had made his escape over the\nwalls of the garden. Persuaded that the house was now safe, I went\nto bed.\n\nThis, said Morgiana, is the account you asked of me; and I am\nconvinced it is the consequence of an observation which I had made\nfor two or three days before, but did not think fit to acquaint you\nwith; for when I came in one morning early, I found our street-door\nmarked with white chalk, and the next morning with red; and both\ntimes, without knowing what was the intention of those chalks, I\nmarked two or three neighbours\u2019 doors on each hand after the same\nmanner. If you reflect on this, and what has since happened, you\nwill find it to be a plot of the robbers of the forest, of whose\ngang there are two wanting, and now they are reduced to three: all\nthis shows that they had sworn your destruction, and it is proper\nyou should stand upon your guard, while there is one of them alive:\nfor my part, I shall not neglect any thing necessary to your\npreservation, as I am in duty bound.\n\nWhen Morgiana had left off speaking, Ali Baba was so sensible of the\ngreat service she had done him, that he said to her, I will not die\nwithout rewarding you as you deserve: I owe my life to you, and for\nthe first token of my acknowledgment I give you your liberty from\nthis moment, till I can complete your recompense as I intend. I am\npersuaded, with you, that the forty robbers have laid all manner of\nsnares for me: God, by your means, has delivered me from them, and I\nhope will continue to preserve me from their wicked designs, and by\naverting the danger which threatened me, will deliver the world from\ntheir persecution and their cursed race. All that we have to do is\nto bury the bodies of these pests of mankind immediately, and with\nall the secrecy imaginable, that nobody may suspect what is become\nof them. But that Abdalla and I will undertake.\n\nAli Baba\u2019s garden was very long, and shaded at the farther end by\na great number of large trees. Under these trees he and the slave\nwent and dug a trench, long and wide enough to hold all the robbers,\nand as the earth was light, they were not long doing it. Afterwards\nthey lifted the bodies out of the jars, took away their weapons,\ncarried them to the end of the garden, laid them in the trench, and\nlevelled the ground again. When this was done, Ali Baba hid the jars\nand weapons; and as for the mules, as he had no occasion for them,\nhe sent them at different times to be sold in the market by his\nslave.\n\nWhile Ali Baba took these measures to prevent the public from\nknowing how he came by his riches in so short a time, the captain of\nthe forty robbers returned to the forest, in most inconceivable\nmortification; and in the agitation, or rather confusion, he was in\nat his want of success, so contrary to what he had promised himself,\nhe entered the cave, not being able, all the way from the town, to\ncome to any resolution what to do to Ali Baba.\n\nThe loneliness of the dark place seemed frightful to him. Where are\nyou, my brave lads, cried he, old companions of my watchings,\ninroads, and labour? What can I do without you? Did I collect you to\nlose you by so base a fate, and so unworthy your courage? Had you\ndied with your sabres in your hands, like brave men, my regret had\nbeen less! When shall I get so gallant a troop again? And if I\ncould, can I undertake it without exposing so much gold and treasure\nto him, who hath already enriched himself out of it? I cannot, I\nought not to think of it, before I have taken away his life. I will\nundertake that myself, which I could not accomplish with so powerful\nassistance; and when I have taken care to secure this treasure from\nbeing pillaged, I will provide for it new masters and successors\nafter me, who shall preserve and augment it to all posterity. This\nresolution being taken, he was not at a loss how to execute it; but,\neasy in his mind, and full of hopes, he slept all that night very\nquietly.\n\nWhen he waked early next morning, as he had proposed, he dressed\nhimself, agreeably to the project he had in his head, and went to\nthe town, and took a lodging in a khan. And as he expected what had\nhappened at Ali Baba\u2019s might make a great noise in the town, he\nasked his host, by way of discourse, what news there was in the\ncity. Upon which the innkeeper told him a great many things, which\ndid not concern him in the least. He judged by this, that the reason\nwhy Ali Baba kept this affair so secret was for fear people should\nknow where the treasure lay, and the means of coming at it; and\nbecause he knew his life would be sought upon account of it. And\nthis urged him the more to neglect nothing to rid himself of so\ndangerous a person.\n\nThe next thing that the captain had to do was to provide himself\nwith a horse, to convey a great many sorts of rich stuffs and fine\nlinen to his lodging, which he did by a great many journeys to the\nforest, but with all the necessary precautions imaginable to conceal\nthe place whence he brought them. In order to dispose of the\nmerchandizes, when he had amassed them together, he took a furnished\nshop, which happened to be opposite to that which was Cassim\u2019s,\nwhich Ali Baba\u2019s son had not long occupied.\n\nHe took upon him the name of Cogia Houssain, and as a new comer,\nwas, according to custom, extremely civil and complaisant to all the\nmerchants his neighbours. And as Ali Baba\u2019s son was young and\nhandsome, and a man of good sense, and was often obliged to converse\nwith Cogia Houssain, he soon made himself acquainted with him. He\nstrove to cultivate his friendship, more particularly when, two or\nthree days after he was settled, he recognised Ali Baba, who came to\nsee his son, and stopped to talk with him as he was accustomed to\ndo; and when he was gone, he learnt from his son who he was. He\nincreased his assiduities, caressed him after the most engaging\nmanner, made him some small presents, and often asked him to dine\nand sup with him; and treated him very handsomely.\n\nAli Baba\u2019s son did not care to lie under such obligation to Cogia\nHoussain without making the like return; but was so much straitened\nfor want of room in his house, that he could not entertain him so\nwell as he wished; and therefore acquainted his father Ali Baba with\nhis intention, and told him that it did not look well for him to\nreceive such favours from Cogia Houssain without inviting him again.\n\nAli Baba, with great pleasure, took the treat upon himself. Son,\nsaid he, to-morrow (Friday), which is a day that the shops of such\ngreat merchants as Cogia Houssain and yourself are shut, get him to\ntake a walk with you after dinner, and as you come back, pass by my\ndoor, and call in. It will look better to have it happen\naccidentally, than if you gave him a formal invitation. I will go\nand order Morgiana to provide a supper.\n\nThe next day, after dinner, Ali Baba\u2019s son and Cogia Houssain met\nby appointment, and took their walk, and as they returned, Ali\nBaba\u2019s son led Cogia Houssain through the street where his father\nlived; and when they came to the house, he stopped and knocked at\nthe door. This, sir, said he, is my father\u2019s house; who, upon the\naccount I have given him of your friendship, charged me to procure\nhim the honour of your acquaintance; and I desire you to add this\npleasure to those I am already indebted to you for.\n\nThough it was the sole aim of Cogia Houssain to introduce himself\ninto Ali Baba\u2019s house, that he might kill him without hazarding\nhis own life or making any noise; yet he excused himself, and\noffered to take his leave. But a slave having opened the door, Ali\nBaba\u2019s son took him obligingly by the hand, and in a manner forced\nhim in.\n\nAli Baba received Cogia Houssain with a smiling countenance, and in\nthe most obliging manner he could wish. He thanked him for all the\nfavours he had done his son; adding withal, the obligation was the\ngreater, as he was a young man not very well acquainted with the\nworld, and that he might contribute to his information.\n\nCogia Houssain returned the compliment, by assuring Ali Baba, that\nthough his son might not have acquired the experience of older men,\nhe had good sense equal to the experience of many others. After a\nlittle more conversation on different subjects, he offered again to\ntake his leave; when Ali Baba, stopping him, said, Where are you\ngoing, sir, in so much haste? I beg you would do me the honour to\nsup with me, though what I have to give you is not worth your\nacceptance; but such as it is, I hope you will accept it as heartily\nas I give it. Sir, replied Cogia Houssain, I am thoroughly persuaded\nof your good-will; and if I ask the favour of you not to take it ill\nthat I do not accept of your obliging invitation, I beg of you to\nbelieve that it does not proceed from any slight or intention to\naffront, but from a certain reason, which you would approve of if\nyou knew it.\n\nAnd what may that reason be, sir, replied Ali Baba, if I may be so\nbold as to ask you? It is, answered Cogia Houssain, that I can eat\nno victuals that have any salt in them; therefore judge how I should\nlook at your table. If that is the only reason, said Ali Baba, it\nought not to deprive me of the honour of your company at supper;\nfor, in the first place, there is no salt ever put into my bread,\nand for the meat we shall have to-night, I promise you there shall\nbe none. I will go and take care of that. Therefore you must do me\nthe favour to stay; I will come again immediately.\n\nAli Baba went into the kitchen, and ordered Morgiana to put no salt\nto the meat that was to be dressed that night; and to make quickly\ntwo or three ragouts besides what he had ordered, but be sure to put\nno salt in them.\n\nMorgiana, who was always ready to obey her master, could not help,\nthis time, seeming somewhat dissatisfied at his new order. Who is\nthis difficult man, said she, who eats no salt with his meat? Your\nsupper will be spoiled, if I keep it back so long. Do not be angry,\nMorgiana, replied Ali Baba, he is an honest man: therefore do as I\nbid you.\n\nMorgiana obeyed, though with no little reluctance, and had a\ncuriosity to see this man who eat no salt. To this end, when she had\ndone what she had to do in the kitchen, and Abdalla laid the cloth,\nshe helped to carry up the dishes; and looking at Cogia Houssain,\nknew him at the first sight to be the captain of the robbers,\nnotwithstanding his disguise; and examining him very carefully,\nperceived that he had a dagger hid under his garment. I am not in\nthe least amazed, said she to herself, that this wicked wretch, who\nis my master\u2019s greatest enemy, would eat no salt with him, since\nhe intends to assassinate him; but I will prevent him.\n\nWhen Morgiana had sent up the supper by Abdalla, while they were\neating, she made the necessary preparations for executing one of the\nboldest acts which could be thought on, and had just done, when\nAbdalla came again for the dessert of fruit, which she carried up,\nand as soon as Abdalla had taken the meat away, set it upon the\ntable; after that, she set a little table and three glasses by Ali\nBaba, and going out, took Abdalla along with her to go to sup\ntogether, and to give Ali Baba the more liberty of conversation with\nhis guest.\n\nThen the pretended Cogia Houssain, or rather captain of the robbers,\nthought he had a favourable opportunity to kill Ali Baba. I will,\nsaid he to himself, make the father and son both drunk; and then the\nson, whose life I intend to spare, will not be able to prevent my\nstabbing his father to the heart; and while the slaves are at\nsupper, or asleep in the kitchen, I can make my escape over the\ngardens as before.\n\nInstead of going to supper, Morgiana, who penetrated into the\nintentions of the counterfeit Cogia Houssain, would not give him\nleave to put his villanous design in execution, but dressed herself\nneatly with a suitable head-dress like a dancer, girded her waist\nwith a silver-gilt girdle, to which there hung a poniard with a hilt\nand guard of the same metal, and put a handsome mask on her face.\nWhen she had thus disguised herself, she said to Abdalla, Take your\ntabor, and let us go and divert our master and his son\u2019s guest, as\nwe do sometimes when he is alone.\n\nAbdalla took his tabor, and played before Morgiana all the way into\nthe hall, who, when she came to the door, made a low curtsey, with a\ndeliberate air, to make herself taken notice of, and by way of\nasking leave to show what she could do. Abdalla, seeing that his\nmaster had a mind to say something, left off playing. Come in,\nMorgiana, said Ali Baba, and let Cogia Houssain see what you can do,\nthat he may tell us what he thinks of you. But, sir, said he,\nturning towards Cogia Houssain, do not think that I put myself to\nany expense to give you this diversion, since these are my slave and\nmy cook and house-keeper; and I hope you will not find the\nentertainment they give us disagreeable.\n\nCogia Houssain, who did not expect this diversion after supper,\nbegan to fear that he should not have the opportunity that he\nthought he had found; but hoped, if he missed it now, to have it\nanother time, by keeping up a friendly correspondence with the\nfather and son; therefore, though he could have wished Ali Baba\nwould have let it alone, he pretended to be obliged to him for it,\nand had the complaisance to express a pleasure at what he saw\npleased his host.\n\nAs soon as Abdalla saw that Ali Baba and Cogia Houssain had done\ntalking, he began to play on the tabor, and accompanied it with an\nair; to which Morgiana, who was an excellent dancer, danced after\nsuch a manner, as would have created admiration in any other company\nbut that before which she now exhibited, among whom, perhaps, none\nbut the false Cogia Houssain was in the least attentive to her.\n\nAfter she had danced several dances with the same propriety and\nstrength, she drew the poniard, and holding it in her hand, dancing\na dance, in which she outdid herself, by the many different figures\nand light movements, and the surprising leaps and wonderful\nexertions, with which she accompanied it. Sometimes she presented\nthe poniard to one\u2019s breast, and sometimes to another\u2019s, and\noftentimes seeming to strike her own. At last, as if she was out of\nbreath, she snatched the tabor from Abdalla with her left hand, and\nholding the dagger in her right, presented the other side of the\ntabor, after the manner of those who get a livelihood by dancing,\nand solicit the liberality of the spectators.\n\nAli Baba put a piece of gold into the tabor, as did also his son;\nand Cogia Houssain, seeing that she was coming to him, had pulled\nhis purse out of his bosom to make her a present; but while he was\nputting his hand into it, Morgiana, with a courage and resolution\nworthy of herself, plunged the poniard into his heart.\n\nAli Baba and his son, frightened at this action, cried out aloud.\nUnhappy wretch! exclaimed Ali Baba, what have you done to ruin me\nand my family? It was to preserve you, not to ruin you, answered\nMorgiana; for see here, said she, (opening Cogia Houssain\u2019s\ngarment, and showing the dagger), what an enemy you had entertained!\nLook well at him, and you will find him to be both the pretended\noil-merchant, and the captain of the gang of forty robbers.\nRemember, too, that he would eat no salt with you; and what would\nyou have more to persuade you of his wicked design? Before I saw\nhim, I suspected him as soon as you told me you had such a guest. I\nsaw him, and you now find that my suspicion was not groundless.\n\nAli Baba, who immediately felt the new obligation he had to Morgiana\nfor saving his life a second time, embraced her: Morgiana, said he,\nI gave you your liberty, and then promised you that my gratitude\nshould not stop there, but that I would soon complete it. The time\nis come for me to give you a proof of it, by making you my\ndaughter-in-law. Then addressing himself to his son, he said to him,\nI believe you, son, to be so dutiful a child, that you will not\nrefuse Morgiana for your wife. You see that Cogia Houssain sought\nyour friendship with a treacherous design to take away my life; and\nif he had succeeded, there is no doubt but he would have sacrificed\nyou also to his revenge. Consider, that by marrying Morgiana, you\nmarry the support of my family and your own.\n\nThe son, far from showing any dislike, readily consented to the\nmarriage; not only because he would not disobey his father, but that\nhis inclination prompted him to it.\n\nAfter this, they thought of burying the captain of the robbers with\nhis comrades, and did it so privately, that nobody knew any thing of\nit till a great many years after, when not any one had any concern\nin the publication of this remarkable history.\n\nA few days afterwards, Ali Baba celebrated the nuptials of his son\nand Morgiana with great solemnity and a sumptuous feast, and the\nusual dancing and spectacles; and had the satisfaction to see that\nhis friends and neighbours, whom he invited, had no knowledge of the\ntrue motives of that marriage; but that those who were not\nunacquainted with Morgiana\u2019s good qualities, commended his\ngenerosity and goodness of heart.\n\nAli Baba forbore, a long time after this marriage, from going again\nto the robbers\u2019 cave, from the time he brought away his brother\nCassim and some bags of gold on three asses, for fear of finding\nthem there, and being surprised by them. He kept away after the\ndeath of the thirty-seven robbers and their captain, supposing the\nother two robbers, whom he could get no account of, might be alive.\n\nBut at the year\u2019s end, when he found they had not made any attempt\nto disturb him, he had the curiosity to make another journey, taking\nthe necessary precautions for his safety. He mounted his horse, and\nwhen he came to the cave, and saw no footsteps of men or horses, he\nlooked upon it as a good sign. He alighted off his horse, and tied\nhim to a tree; and presenting himself before the door, and\npronouncing these words, _Open, Sesame!_ the door opened. He went\nin, and by the condition he found things in, he judged that nobody\nhad been there since the false Cogia Houssain, when he fetched the\ngoods for his shop, and that the gang of forty robbers was\ncompletely destroyed, and never doubted he was the only person in\nthe world who had the secret of opening the cave, and that all the\ntreasure was solely at his disposal; and having brought with him a\nwallet, into which he put as much gold as his horse could carry, he\nreturned to town.\n\nAfterwards Ali Baba carried his son to the cave, taught him the\nsecret, which they handed down to their posterity; and using their\ngood fortune with moderation, lived in great honour and splendour,\nserving the greatest offices of the city.\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of Ali Cogia, a Merchant of Bagdad.\n\n\nIn the reign of the caliph Haroun Alraschid, there lived at Bagdad a\nmerchant whose name was Ali Cogia, that was neither one of the\nrichest nor the meanest sort. He was a bachelor, and lived in the\nhouse which was his father\u2019s, master of his own actions, content\nwith the profit he made by his trade. But happening to dream a dream\nfor three nights together, that a venerable old man came to him,\nand, with a severe look, reprimanded him for not having made a\npilgrimage to Mecca, he was very much troubled.\n\nAs a good Mussulman, he knew he was obliged to undertake a\npilgrimage; but as he had a house, shop, and goods, he had always\nbelieved that they might stand for a sufficient reason to excuse\nhim, endeavouring by his charity, and other good works, to atone for\nthat neglect. But after this dream, his conscience was so much\npricked, that the fear lest any misfortune should befal him, made\nhim resolve not to defer it any longer; and to be able to go that\nyear, he sold off his household goods, his shop, and with it the\ngreatest part of his merchandises, reserving only some, which he\nthought might turn to a better account at Mecca: and meeting with a\ntenant for his house, let that also.\n\nThings being thus disposed, he was ready to go when the Bagdad\ncaravan set out for Mecca: the only thing he had to do was to secure\na sum of a thousand pieces of gold, which would have been\ntroublesome to carry along with him, besides the money he had set\napart to defray his expenses on the road, and for other purposes. To\nthis end he made choice of a jar of a proportionable size, put the\nthousand pieces of gold into it, and covered them over with olives.\nWhen he had closed the mouth of the jar, he carried it to a\nmerchant, a particular friend of his, and said to him, You know,\nbrother, that in a few days I set out with the caravan, on my\npilgrimage to Mecca. I beg the favour of you, that you would take\ncharge of a jar of olives, and keep it for me till I return. The\nmerchant promised him he would, and in an obliging manner said,\nHere, take the key of my warehouse, and set your jar where you\nplease. I promise you shall find it there when you come again.\n\nOn the day the caravan was to set out, Ali Cogia joined it, with a\ncamel loaded with what merchandises he thought fit to carry along\nwith him, which served him to ride on, and arrived safe at Mecca,\nwhere he visited, along with other pilgrims, the temple so much\ncelebrated and frequented by Mussulmen of all nations every year,\nwho come from all parts of the world, and observe religiously the\nceremonies prescribed them; and when he had acquitted himself of the\nduties of his pilgrimage, he exposed the merchandises he had brought\nwith him, to sell or exchange them.\n\nTwo merchants passing by, and seeing Ali Cogia\u2019s goods, thought\nthem so fine and choice, that they stopped some time to look at\nthem, though they had no occasion for them; and when they had\nsatisfied their curiosity, one of them said to the other, as they\nwere going away, If this merchant knew to what profit these goods\nwould turn at Cairo, he would carry them thither, and not sell them\nhere, though this is a good mart.\n\nAli Cogia heard these words; and as he had often heard talk of the\nbeauties of Egypt, he was resolved to take the opportunity of seeing\nthem, and taking a journey thither. Therefore, after having packed\nup his goods again, instead of returning to Bagdad, he set out for\nEgypt, with the caravan of Cairo; and when he came thither, he found\nhis account in his journey, and in a few days sold all his goods to\na greater advantage than he hoped for. With the money he bought\nothers, with an intent to go to Damascus; and while he waited for\nthe opportunity of a caravan, which was to set forward in six weeks,\nhe saw all the rarities at Cairo, as also the pyramids; and sailing\nup the Nile, viewed the famous towns on each side of that river.\n\nAs the Damascus caravans took Jerusalem in their way, our Bagdad\nmerchant had the opportunity of visiting the temple, looked upon by\nall the Mussulmen to be the most holy, after that of Mecca, whence\nthis city takes its name of _Noble Holiness_.\n\nAli Cogia found Damascus so delicious a place, abounding with fine\nmeads, pleasantly watered, and delightful gardens, that it exceeded\nthe descriptions given of it in history. Here he made a long abode,\nbut, nevertheless, had not forgot his native Bagdad: for which place\nhe set out, and arrived at Aleppo, where he made some stay; and from\nthence, after having passed the Euphrates, he bent his course to\nMoussoul, with an intention, in his return, to come by a shorter way\ndown the Tigris.\n\nWhen Ali Cogia came to Moussoul, the Persian merchants, with whom he\ntravelled from Aleppo, and with whom he had contracted a great\nfriendship, had got so great an ascendant over him by their\ncivilities and agreeable conversation, that they easily persuaded\nhim not to leave them till they came to Schiraz, from whence he\nmight easily return to Bagdad with a considerable profit. They led\nhim through the towns of Sultania, Rei, Coam, Caschan, Ispahan, and\nfrom thence to Schiraz; from whence he had the complaisance to bear\nthem company to India, and so came back again with them to Schiraz;\ninsomuch that, including the stay he made in every town, he was\nseven years absent from Bagdad, whither he then resolved to return.\n\nAll this time his friend, with whom he had left his jar of olives,\nneither thought of him nor them; but just at the time when he was on\nthe road with a caravan from Schiraz, one evening, when this\nmerchant was supping at home with his family, the discourse\nhappening to fall upon olives, his wife was desirous to eat some,\nsaying, she had not tasted any for a long while. Now you speak of\nolives, said the merchant, you put me in mind of a jar, which Ali\nCogia left with me seven years ago, when he went to Mecca; and put\nit himself in my warehouse, for me to keep for him against he\nreturned. What is become of him I know not; though, when the caravan\ncame back, they told me he was gone for Egypt. Certainly he must be\ndead, since he has not returned in all this time; and we may eat the\nolives if they prove good. Give me a plate and a candle, and I will\ngo and fetch some of them, and we will taste them.\n\nFor God\u2019s sake, husband, said the wife, do not commit so base an\naction: you know that nothing is more sacred than what is committed\nto one\u2019s care and trust. You say Ali Cogia has been gone to Mecca,\nand is not returned; but you have been told that he is gone into\nEgypt; and how do you know but he may be gone farther? As you have\nno news of his death, he may return to-morrow, for any thing you can\ntell; and what a disgrace would it be to you and your family, if he\nshould come, and you not restore him his jar in the same condition\nhe left it! I declare I have no desire of the olives, and will not\ntaste of them: for when I mentioned them, it was only by way of\ndiscourse; besides, do you think that they can be good, after they\nhave been kept so long? They must be all mouldy, and spoiled; and if\nAli Cogia should return, as I have a strong persuasion he will, and\nshould find they have been opened, what will he think of your\nhonour? I beg of you to let them alone.\n\nThe wife had not argued so long with her husband, but that she read\nhis obstinacy in his face. In short, he never regarded what she\nsaid, but got up, took a candle and a plate, and went into the\nwarehouse. Well, husband, said the wife again, remember I have no\nhand in this business, and that you cannot lay any thing to my\ncharge, if you should have cause to repent of this action.\n\nThe merchant\u2019s ears were deaf to these remonstrances of his wife,\nand he persisted in his design. When he came into the warehouse, he\nopened the jar, and found the olives all mouldy; but to see if they\nwere all so to the bottom, he turned some of them upon the plate,\nand by shaking the jar, some of the gold tumbled out.\n\nAt the sight of the gold, the merchant, who was naturally covetous,\nlooked into the jar, and perceived that he had shaken out almost all\nthe olives, and what remained was fine gold coin. He immediately put\nthe olives into the jar again, covered it up, and returned to his\nwife. Indeed, wife, said he, you was in the right to say that the\nolives were all mouldy; for I found it so, and have made up the jar\njust as Ali Cogia left it; so that he will not perceive that they\nhave been touched, if he should return. You had better have taken my\nadvice, said the wife, and not meddled with them. God grant no\nmischief comes of it!\n\nThe merchant was not more affected with his wife\u2019s last words than\nhe had been by her former, but spent almost the whole night in\nthinking how he might appropriate Ali Cogia\u2019s gold to his own use,\nand keep possession of it, in case Ali Cogia should return and ask\nhim for the jar. The next morning, he went and bought some olives of\nthat year, took out the old and the gold, and filled the jar with\nthe new, covered it up, and put it in the same place where Ali Cogia\nleft it.\n\nAbout a month after the merchant had committed so base an action,\nfor which he was to pay dear, Ali Cogia arrived at Bagdad; and as he\nhad let his house, he alighted at a khan, choosing to stay there\ntill he had signified his arrival to his tenant, and he had provided\nhimself with another house.\n\nThe next morning, Ali Cogia went to pay a visit to the merchant his\nfriend, who received him in the most obliging manner imaginable, and\nexpressed a great deal of joy at his return, after so many years\nabsence; telling him that he had begun to lose all hopes of ever\nseeing him again.\n\nAfter the usual compliments on both sides on such a meeting, Ali\nCogia desired the merchant to return him the jar of olives which he\nhad left with him, and to excuse the liberty he had taken in giving\nhim so much trouble.\n\nMy dear friend, Ali Cogia, replied the merchant, you are to blame to\nmake all these apologies; your vessel has been no inconvenience to\nme: on such an occasion I should have made as free with you: there,\ntake the key of my warehouse; go and take it; you will find it in\nthe same place where you left it.\n\nAli Cogia went into the merchant\u2019s warehouse, took his jar, and\nafter having returned him the key, and thanks for the favour he had\ndone him, returned with it to the khan where he lodged; and opening\nthe jar, and putting his hand down as low as the pieces of gold lay,\nwas very much surprised to find none. At first, he thought he might\nperhaps be mistaken; and, to discover the truth, poured out all the\nolives into all his travelling kitchen-utensils, without so much as\nfinding one single piece of money. His astonishment was so great,\nthat he stood for some time motionless; then lifting up his hands\nand eyes to heaven, he cried out, Is it possible that a man, whom I\ntook to be my good friend, should be guilty of so base an action?\n\nAli Cogia, cruelly alarmed at the fear of so considerable a loss,\nreturned immediately to the merchant. My good friend, said he, be\nnot surprised to see me come back so soon. I own the jar of olives\nto be the same put into your magazine; but with the olives I put a\nthousand pieces of gold into it, which I do not find. Perhaps you\nmight have occasion for them, to employ them in trade; if so, they\nare at your service; only put me out of my pain, and give me an\nacknowledgment, after which you may pay me again at your own\nconvenience.\n\nThe merchant, who expected that Ali Cogia would come with such a\ncomplaint, had meditated an answer. Friend Ali Cogia, said he, when\nyou brought your jar of olives to me, did I touch it? did not I give\nyou the key of my warehouse? did not you carry it there yourself,\nand did not you find it in the same place, covered in the same\nmanner as when you left it? And if you put gold in it, you should\nhave found it again. You told me that they were olives, and I\nbelieved it. This is all I know of the matter: you may believe me,\nif you please; but I never touched them.\n\nAli Cogia made use of all the mild ways he could think of to oblige\nthe merchant to do him right. I love peace and quietness, said he to\nhim, and shall be very sorry to come to those extremities which will\nbring the greatest disgrace upon you: consider that merchants, as we\nare, ought to abandon all interest to preserve a good reputation.\nOnce again I tell you, I should be very much concerned if your\nobstinacy shall oblige me to force you to do me justice; for I would\nrather almost lose what is my right than have recourse to law.\n\nAli Cogia, replied the merchant, you agree that you left a jar of\nolives with me; and now you have taken it away, you come and ask me\nfor a thousand pieces of gold. Did you ever tell me that such a sum\nwas in the jar? I did not even know that they were olives, for you\nnever showed them to me. I wonder you do not as well ask me for\ndiamonds and pearls instead of gold; begone about your business, and\ndo not raise a mob about my shop: for some persons had already\nstopped. These last words were pronounced in so great heat and\npassion, as not only made those who stood about the shop already\nstay longer, and created a great mob, but the neighbouring merchants\ncame out of their shops to see what was the dispute between Ali\nCogia and the merchant, and endeavour to reconcile them; and when\nAli Cogia had informed them of his grievance, they asked the\nmerchant what he had to say.\n\nThe merchant owned that he had kept the jar for Ali Cogia in his\nwarehouse, but denied that ever he meddled with it; and swore that\nhe knew it was full of olives only because Ali Cogia told him so,\nand bid them all bear witness of the insult and affront offered him.\nYou bring it upon yourself, said Ali Cogia, taking him by the arm;\nbut since you use me so basely, I cite you to the law of God; let us\nsee whether you will have the assurance to say the same thing before\nthe cady.\n\nThe merchant could not refuse this summons, which every good\nMussulman is bound to observe, or be declared a rebel against\nreligion; but said, With all my heart; we shall soon see who is in\nthe wrong.\n\nAli Cogia carried the merchant before the cady, before whom he\naccused him of cheating him of a thousand pieces of gold, which he\nhad left with him. The cady asked him if he had any witnesses; to\nwhich he replied, that he had not taken that precaution, because he\nbelieved the person he trusted his money with to be his friend, and\nalways took him for an honest man.\n\nThe merchant made the same defence he had done before the merchants\nhis neighbours, offering to make oath that he never had the money he\nwas accused of, and that he did not so much as know there was such a\nsum; upon which the cady took his oath, and dismissed him acquitted.\n\nAli Cogia, extremely mortified to find that he must sit down with so\nconsiderable a loss, protested against the sentence, declaring to\nthe cady that he would appeal to the caliph Haroun Alraschid, who\nwould do him justice; which protestation the cady only looked upon\nas the effect of the common resentment of all those who lose their\ncause, and thought he had done his duty in acquitting a person who\nhad been accused without witnesses.\n\nWhile the merchant returned home, triumphing over Ali Cogia, and\noverjoyed at his good fortune, Ali Cogia went and drew up a\npetition; and the next day, observing the time when the caliph came\nfrom noon prayers, he placed himself in the street he was to pass\nthrough, and holding out his hand with the petition, an officer\nappointed for that purpose, who always goes before the caliph, came\nand took it to present it.\n\nAs Ali Cogia knew that it was the caliph\u2019s custom to read the\npetitions at his return to the palace, he went into the court, and\nwaited till the officer who had taken the petition read it, and came\nout of the caliph\u2019s apartment, who told him that the caliph had\nappointed an hour to hear him next day; and then asking him where\nthe merchant lived, he sent to notify him to attend at the same time.\n\nThat same evening, the caliph, the grand vizier Giafar, and Mesrour,\nthe chief of the eunuchs, went all disguised through the town, as I\nhave already told your majesty it was his custom occasionally to do:\nand, passing through a street, the caliph heard a noise, and mending\nhis pace, he came to a gate, which led into a little court; through\na hole he perceived ten or twelve children playing by moonlight.\n\nThe caliph, who was curious to know at what play the children\nplayed, sat down upon a stone bench just by; and, still looking\nthrough the hole, he heard one of the briskest and liveliest of the\nchildren say, Let us play at the cady. I will be the cady; bring Ali\nCogia and the merchant who cheated him of the thousand pieces of\ngold before me.\n\nThese words of the child put the caliph in mind of the petition Ali\nCogia had given him that day, and made him redouble his attention to\nsee the issue of the trial.\n\nAs the affair of Ali Cogia and the merchant made a great noise in\nBagdad, it had not escaped the children, who all accepted the\nproposition with joy, and agreed on the part each was to act: not\none of them refused him that made the proposal to be cady; and when\nhe had taken his seat, which he did with all the seeming gravity of\na cady, another, as an officer of the court, presented two before\nhim, one as Ali Cogia, and the other as the merchant against whom he\ncomplained.\n\nThen the pretended cady, directing his discourse to the feigned Ali\nCogia, asked him what he had to lay to that merchant\u2019s charge.\n\nAli Cogia, after a low bow, informed the young cady of the fact, and\nrelated every particular, and afterwards begged that he would use\nhis authority, that he might not lose so considerable a sum of money.\n\nThen the feigned cady, turning about to the merchant, asked him why\nhe did not return the money which Ali Cogia demanded of him.\n\nThe feigned merchant alleged the same reasons as the real merchant\nhad done before the cady himself, and offered to confirm by oath\nthat what he had said was truth.\n\nNot so fast, replied the pretended cady; before you come to your\noath, I should be glad to see the jar of olives. Ali Cogia, said he,\naddressing himself to the lad who acted that part, have you brought\nthe jar? No, replied he. Then go and fetch it immediately, said the\nother.\n\nThe pretended Ali Cogia went immediately, and returning as soon,\nfeigned to set a jar before the cady, telling him that it was the\nsame he left with the accused person, and took away again. But, to\nomit no part of the formality, the supposed cady asked the merchant\nif it was the same; and as by his silence he seemed not to deny it,\nhe ordered it to be opened. He that represented Ali Cogia seemed to\ntake off the cover, and the pretended cady made as if he looked into\nit. They are fine olives, said he; let me taste of them; and then\npretending to eat of them, added, They are excellent; but, continued\nhe, I cannot think that olives will keep seven years, and be so\ngood: send for some olive-merchants, and let me hear what is their\nopinion. Then two boys, as olive-merchants, presented themselves.\nAre you olive-merchants? said the sham cady. Tell me how long olives\nwill keep to be fit to eat?\n\nSir, replied the two merchants, let us take what care we can, they\nwill hardly be worth any thing the third year; for then they have\nneither taste nor colour. If it be so, answered the cady, look into\nthat jar, and tell me how long it is since those olives were put\ninto it.\n\nThe two merchants pretended to examine and to taste the olives, and\ntold the cady they were new and good. You are mistaken, said the\nyoung cady; Ali Cogia says he put them into the jar seven years ago.\n\nSir, replied the merchants, we can assure you they are of this\nyear\u2019s growth; and we will maintain there is not a merchant in\nBagdad but will say the same.\n\nThe feigned merchant that was accused would have objected against\nthe evidence of the olive-merchants; but the feigned cady would not\nsuffer him. Hold your tongue, said he; you are a rogue; let him be\nhanged. Then the children put an end to their play, clapping their\nhands with great joy, and seizing the feigned criminal to carry him\nto execution.\n\nWords cannot express how much the caliph Haroun Alraschid admired\nthe sagacity and sense of the boy who had passed so just a sentence\nin an affair which was to be pleaded before him the next day. He\nwithdrew, and rising off the bench he sat on, he asked the grand\nvizier, who heard all that passed, what he thought of it. Indeed,\ncommander of the true believers, answered the grand vizier Giafar, I\nam surprised to find so much sagacity in one so young.\n\nBut, answered the caliph, do you know one thing? I am to pronounce\nsentence in this very cause to-morrow; the true Ali Cogia presented\nhis petition to me to-day; and do you think, continued he, that I\ncan give a better sentence? I think not, answered the vizier, if the\ncase is as the children represented it. Take notice then of this\nhouse, said the caliph, and bring the boy to me to-morrow, that he\nmay try this cause in my presence; and also order the cady, who\nacquitted the roguish merchant, to attend, to learn his duty from a\nchild. Take care likewise to bid Ali Cogia bring his jar of olives\nwith him, and let two olive merchants be present. After this charge,\nhe pursued his rounds, without meeting with any thing else worth his\nattention.\n\nThe next day the vizier went to the house where the caliph had been\nwitness of the children\u2019s play, and asked for the master of it;\nbut he being abroad, his wife came to him. He asked her, if she had\nany children. To which she answered, she had three, and called them.\nMy brave boys, said the vizier, which of you was the cady when you\nplayed together last night? The eldest made answer he was; but not\nknowing why he asked the question, coloured. Come along with me, my\nlad, said the grand vizier, the commander of the faithful wants to\nsee you.\n\nThe mother was in a great fright when she saw the grand vizier would\ntake her son with him, and asked him upon what account the caliph\nwanted him. The grand vizier encouraged her, and promised her that\nhe should return again in less than an hour\u2019s time, when she\nshould know it from himself. If it be so, sir, said the mother, give\nme leave to dress him first, that he may be fit to appear before the\ncommander of the faithful; which the vizier readily complied with.\n\nAs soon as the child was dressed, the vizier carried him away and\npresented him to the caliph at the time he had appointed to hear Ali\nCogia and the merchant.\n\nThe caliph, who saw that the boy was dashed, to encourage him, said,\nCome to me, child, and tell me if it was you that determined the\naffair between Ali Cogia and the merchant that cheated him of his\nmoney? I saw and heard you, and am very well pleased with you. The\nboy answered modestly that it was he. Well, my son, replied the\ncaliph, come and sit down by me, and you shall see the true Ali\nCogia, and the true merchant.\n\nThen the caliph took him by the hand, and set him on the throne by\nhim, and asked for the two parties. When they were called, they came\nand prostrated themselves before the throne, bowing their heads\nquite down to the carpet that covered it. Afterwards the caliph said\nto them, Plead each of you your causes before this child, who will\nhear and do you justice; and if he should be at a loss, I will\nrectify it.\n\nAli Cogia and the merchant pleaded one after the other; but when the\nmerchant proposed his oath as before, the child said, It is too\nsoon; it is proper that we should see the jar of olives.\n\nAt these words, Ali Cogia presented the jar, placed it at the\nCaliph\u2019s feet, and opened it. The caliph looked upon the olives,\nand took one and tasted it. Afterwards the merchants were called,\nwho examined the olives, and reported that they were good, and of\nthat year. The boy told them that Ali Cogia affirmed that it was\nseven years since he put them up; and they returned the same answer\nas the children, who represented them the night before.\n\nThough the merchant who was accused saw plainly that these\nmerchants\u2019 opinions would condemn him, yet he would say something\nin his own justification. But the child, instead of ordering him to\nbe hanged, looked at the caliph, and said, Commander of the\nfaithful, this is no jesting matter; it is your majesty that must\ncondemn him to death, and not me, though I did it yesterday in play.\n\nThe caliph, fully satisfied of the merchant\u2019s villany, delivered\nhim into the hands of the ministers of justice to be hanged. This\nsentence was executed upon him after he had confessed where he had\nhid the thousand pieces of gold, which were restored to Ali Cogia.\nThen the monarch, most just and equitable, turning to the cady, bid\nhim learn of that child to acquit himself more exactly of his duty;\nand embracing the boy, sent him home with a purse of a hundred\npieces of gold, as a token of his liberality.\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of the Enchanted Horse.\n\n\nThe Nevrouz, [101] or the new day, which is the first of the year\nand spring, is observed as an ancient and solemn feast throughout\nall Persia, which has been continued from the time of idolatry; and\nour prophet\u2019s religion, pure as it is, and true as we hold it, has\nnot been able to abolish that heathenish custom, and the\nsuperstitious ceremonies which are observed, not only in the great\ncities, but celebrated with extraordinary rejoicings in every little\ntown, village and hamlet.\n\nBut the rejoicings are the most extraordinary at the court, for the\nvariety of new and surprising sights, insomuch that strangers are\ninvited from the neighbouring states, and the most remote parts, by\nrewards and liberality of the king towards those who are the most\nexcellent in their invention and contrivance. In short, nothing in\nthe rest of the world can come nigh them in magnificence.\n\nOne of these feast days, after the most ingenious artists of the\ncountry had repaired to Schiraz, where the court then resided, and\nhad entertained the king and all the court with their sights, and\nhad been bountifully and liberally rewarded according to their merit\nand to their satisfaction by the king, when the assembly was just\nbreaking up, an Indian appeared at the foot of the throne with an\nartificial horse, richly bridled and saddled, and so well made, that\nat first sight he looked like a living horse.\n\nThe Indian prostrated himself before the throne, and pointing to the\nhorse, said to the king, Though, sir, I present myself the last\nbefore your majesty, yet I can assure you that nothing that has been\nshown to-day is so wonderful as this horse, on which I beg your\nmajesty will be pleased to cast your eyes. I see nothing more in the\nhorse, said the king, but the natural resemblance the workman has\ngiven him, which the skill of another workman may do as well or\nbetter.\n\nSir, replied the Indian, it is not for his outward form and\nappearance that I recommend my horse to your majesty\u2019s examination\nas wonderful, but the use I know how to make of him, and what any\nother person, when I have communicated the secret to him, may do as\nwell. Whenever I mount him, be it where it will, if I wish to\ntransport myself through the air to the most distant part of the\nworld, I can do it in a very short time. This, sir, is the wonder of\nmy horse, a wonder which nobody ever heard speak of, and which I\noffer to show your majesty, if you command me. [102]\n\nThe king of Persia, who was fond of every thing that was curious,\nand, after the many wonderful things he had seen and desired to see,\nhad never seen nor heard any thing that came up to this, told the\nIndian that nothing but the experience of what he told should\nconvince him; and that withal he was ready to see him perform what\nhe promised.\n\nThe Indian presently put his foot into the stirrup, and mounted his\nhorse with a great deal of activity; and when he had got the other\nfoot into the stirrup, and had fixed himself in the saddle, he asked\nthe king of Persia where he pleased to send him.\n\nAbout three leagues from Schiraz there was a high mountain,\ndiscernible from the large square before the palace, where the king\nand his court, and a great concourse of people then were. Do you see\nthat mountain? said the king, pointing to the hill; go to it, it is\nnot a great way off, but it is far enough to judge of the haste you\ncan make in going and coming. But because it is not possible for the\neye to follow you so far, for a certain sign that you have been\nthere, I expect that you will bring me a branch of a palm tree that\ngrows at the bottom of the hill.\n\nThe king of Persia had no sooner declared his will, but the Indian\nturned a peg, which was in the hollow of the horse\u2019s neck, just by\nthe pommel of the saddle, and in an instant the horse rose off the\nground, and carried his rider into the air like lightning to such a\nheight, that those who had the strongest sight could not discern\nhim, to the admiration of the king and all the spectators. Within\nless than a quarter of an hour they saw him come again with the palm\nbranch in his hand; but before he came quite down, he took two or\nthree turns in the air over the spot, amid the acclamations of all\nthe people, then descended upon the same spot of ground whence he\nset off, without receiving the least shock from the horse to\ndisorder him. He dismounted, and going up to the throne, prostrated\nhimself, and laid the branch of the palm-tree at the king\u2019s feet.\n\nThe king of Persia, who was an eye-witness, with no less admiration\nthan astonishment of this unheard-of sight, which the Indian had\nexhibited, conceived a great desire to have the horse; and as he\npersuaded himself that he should not find it a difficult matter to\ntreat with the Indian about him, for whatever sum of money he should\nvalue him at, he began to look upon him as the most valuable thing\nin his treasury. To judge of thy horse by his outward appearance,\nsaid he to the Indian, I did not think him so much worth my\nconsideration. As you showed me his merits, I am obliged to you for\nundeceiving me; and to show you how much I esteem him, I will buy\nhim of you, if he is to be sold.\n\nSir, replied the Indian, I never doubted that your majesty, who has\nthe character of the most judicious prince on earth, would set a\njust value on my work as soon as I had shown you on what account he\nwas worthy your attention. I also foresaw that you would not only\nadmire and commend him, but would desire to have him. For my part,\nsir, though I know the true value of him, and that my being master\nof him will render my name immortal in the world, yet I am not so\nfond of him but I can resign him, to gratify that noble passion of\nyour majesty; but in making this declaration, I have another to add,\nwithout which I cannot resolve to part with him, and perhaps you may\nnot approve of it.\n\nYour majesty will not be displeased, continued the Indian, if I tell\nyou that I did not buy this horse, but obtained him of the inventor\nand maker, by giving him my only daughter in marriage, and promising\nat the same time never to sell him; but, if I parted with him, to\nexchange him for something that I should like.\n\nThe Indian would have gone on, but at the word exchange, the king of\nPersia interrupted him: I am willing, said he, to give you what you\nwill ask in exchange. You know my kingdom is large, and contains\nmany great, rich, and populous cities; I will give you the choice of\nwhich you like best, in full sovereignty for the rest of your life.\n\nThis exchange seemed royal and noble to the whole court, but was\nmuch below what the Indian proposed to himself, who had raised his\nthoughts much higher. I am infinitely obliged to your majesty for\nthe offer you make me, answered he, and cannot thank you enough for\nyour generosity; yet I must beg of you not to be angry with me, if I\nhave the boldness to tell you, that I cannot resign to you my horse,\nbut by receiving the hand of the princess your daughter as my wife:\nthis is the only price at which I can give up my property in him.\n\nThe courtiers about the king of Persia could not forbear laughing\naloud at this extravagant demand of the Indian; but the prince\nFirouz Schah, the king\u2019s eldest son, and presumptive heir to the\ncrown, could not bear it without indignation. The king was of a very\ndifferent opinion, and thought he might sacrifice the princess of\nPersia to the Indian, to satisfy his curiosity. He remained,\nhowever, undetermined, considering what he should do.\n\nPrince Firouz Schah, who saw his father hesitating what answer he\nshould make, began to fear lest he should comply with the Indian\u2019s\ndemand, and looked upon it as not only injurious to the royal\ndignity and his sister, but also to himself; therefore, to\nanticipate his father, he said, Sir, I hope your majesty will\nforgive me for daring to ask you, if it is possible that your\nmajesty should hesitate a moment about a denial to so insolent a\ndemand from such an insignificant fellow, and scandalous juggler;\nand that you should give him reason to flatter himself a moment with\nbeing allied to one of the most powerful monarchs in the world? I\nbeg of you to consider what you owe to yourself, and to your own\nblood, and the high rank of your ancestors.\n\nSon, replied the king of Persia, I very much approve of your\nremonstrance, and am very sensible of your zeal for preserving the\nlustre of your noble birth; but you do not consider enough the\nexcellence of this horse, nor that the Indian, if I should refuse\nhim, may make the offer somewhere else, where this nice point of\nhonour may be waved. I shall be in the utmost despair if another\nprince should boast of having exceeded me in generosity, and\ndeprived me of the glory of possessing a horse, which I esteem as\nthe most singular and wonderful thing in the world. I will not say I\nconsent to grant him what he asked. Perhaps he has not made up his\nmind upon this exorbitant demand; and, putting my daughter the\nprincess out of the question, I may make another agreement with him\nthat will answer his purpose as well. But before I strike the\nbargain with him, I should be glad that you would examine the horse;\ntry him yourself, and give me your opinion; I doubt not he will\npermit.\n\nAs it is natural for us to flatter ourselves in what we desire, the\nIndian fancied, by what he heard the king of Persia say, he was not\nentirely averse to his alliance, by taking the horse at his price;\nand that the prince, who, instead of being against it, might become\nmore favourable to him, and not oppose the desire the king seemed to\nhave; and to show he consented to it with a great deal of pleasure,\nhe expressed much joy, ran before the prince to help him to mount,\nand showed him how to guide and manage the horse.\n\nThe prince mounted the horse with wonderful address, without the\nIndian assisting him; and no sooner had he got his feet in both\nstirrups, but, without staying for the Indian\u2019s advice, he turned\nthe peg he had seen him use, and mounted into the air as quick as an\narrow shot out of a bow by the stoutest and most adroit archer; and\nin a few moments the king, court, and the numerous assembly, lost\nsight of him. Neither horse nor prince were to be seen; and the king\nof Persia made vain efforts to discern them: when the Indian,\nalarmed at what had happened, prostrated himself before the throne,\nand forced the king to look at him, and give attention to what he\nsaid. Sir, said he, your majesty yourself saw that the prince was so\nhasty, that he would not permit me to give him the necessary\ninstructions to govern my horse. From what he saw me do, he would\nshow that he wanted not my advice to set off. He was too willing to\nshow his address, but knows not the way which I was going to show\nhim, how to turn the horse about and bring it back again. Therefore,\nsir, the favour I ask of your majesty is, not to make me accountable\nfor what accidents may befall him; you are too just to impute to me\nany misfortune that may attend him.\n\nThis discourse of the Indian very much surprised and afflicted the\nking of Persia, who saw the danger his son was in to be inevitable,\nif, as the Indian said, there was another secret to bring him back\nagain, that was different from that which carried him away; and\nasked, in a passion, why he did not call him back the moment he went.\n\nSir, answered the Indian, your majesty saw as well as I with what\nswiftness the horse and the prince flew away. The surprise I was\nthen, and still am in, deprived me of the use of my speech; and, if\nI could have spoken, he was got too far to hear me. If he had heard\nme, he knew not the secret to bring him back, which, through his\nimpatience, he would not stay to learn. But, sir, added he, there is\nroom to hope that the prince, when he finds himself at a loss, will\nperceive another peg, and, as soon as he turns that, the horse will\ncease to rise, and will descend to the ground, and he may turn him\nto what place he pleases by guiding him with the bridle.\n\nNotwithstanding all these arguments of the Indian, which carried\ngreat appearance of probability, the king of Persia was terribly\nfrightened at the evident danger his son was in. I suppose, replied\nhe, it is very uncertain whether my son perceives the other peg, and\nmakes a right use of it: may not the horse, instead of lighting on\nthe ground, fall upon some rock, or tumble into the sea with him?\n\nSir, replied the Indian, I can deliver your majesty from this\napprehension, by assuring you that the horse crosses seas without\never falling into them, and always carries his rider wherever he has\na mind to go. And your majesty may assure yourself, that, if the\nprince does not find out the other peg which I mentioned, the horse\nwill carry him where he pleases to go. It is not to be supposed he\nwill go any where but where he can find assistance, and make himself\nknown.\n\nBe it as it will, replied the king of Persia, as I cannot depend\nupon the assurance you give me, your head shall answer for my\nson\u2019s life, if he does not return safe and sound in three days\u2019\ntime, or that I can certainly hear that he is alive. Then he ordered\nhis officers to secure his person, and keep him close prisoner;\nafter which he retired to his palace, extremely grieved that the\nfeast of Nevrouz should afford him and his court so much sorrow.\n\nIn the mean time prince Firouz Schah was carried through the air\nwith prodigious swiftness, as was said before; and in less than an\nhour\u2019s time he had got so high, that he could not distinguish any\nthing on the earth, but mountains and plains seemed confounded\ntogether. It was then he began to think of returning from whence he\ncame, and thought to do it by turning the same peg the contrary way,\nand pulling the bridle at the same time. But when he found that the\nhorse still rose with the same swiftness, his astonishment was\nextremely great. He turned the peg several times, one way and the\nother, but all in vain. It was then he grew sensible of his fault,\nin not taking the necessary precautions to guide the horse, before\nhe mounted him. He immediately apprehended the great danger he was\nin, but that apprehension did not deprive him of his reason. He\nexamined the horse\u2019s head and neck with great attention, and\nperceived behind the horse\u2019s right ear another peg, smaller and\nless discernible than the other. He turned that peg, and presently\nperceived that he descended in the same oblique manner as he\nmounted, but not so swiftly.\n\nNight had overshadowed almost half an hour that part of the earth\nover which the prince then was, when he found out and turned the\nsmall peg; and as the horse descended, he by degrees lost sight of\nthe sun, till it grew quite dark; insomuch that, instead of choosing\nwhat place he would go to, he was forced to let the bridle lie upon\nthe horse\u2019s neck, and wait patiently till he alighted, though not\nwithout the dread lest it should be in the desert, a river, or the\nsea.\n\nAt last the horse alighted and stopped after midnight, and prince\nFirouz Schah dismounted, very faint and hungry, having eaten nothing\nsince the morning when he came out of the palace with his father to\nassist at the festival. The first thing he had to do in the darkness\nof the night was to endeavour to find out where he was; when he\nfound himself to be on the terrace of a magnificent palace,\nsurrounded with a balustrade of white marble, breast high; and\ngroping about, found a pair of stairs which led down into the\npalace, the door of which was half open.\n\nNone but prince Firouz Schah would have ventured to go down those\nstairs, so dark as it was, and in the danger he exposed himself to\nfrom friends or foes. But no consideration could stop him. I do not\ncome, said he to himself, to do any body any harm; and certainly,\nwhoever meets or sees me first, and finds that I have no arms in my\nhands, will not attempt any thing against my life, before they hear\nwhat I have to say for myself. After this reflection he opened the\ndoor wider, without making any noise, and went softly down the\nstairs, that he might not awaken any body; and when he came to a\nlanding place on the staircase, he found the door of a great hall,\nthat had a light in it, open.\n\nThe prince stopped at the door, and listening, heard no other noise\nthan the snoring of some people who were fast asleep. He advanced a\nlittle into the room, and, by the light of a lantern, saw that those\npersons whom he heard snore were black eunuchs, with naked sabres\nlaid by them; which was enough to inform him that this was the guard\nchamber of some queen or princess: which latter it proved to be.\n\nIn the next room to this the princess lay, as appeared by the light\nhe saw, the door being open, through a thin silken curtain, which\ndrew before the door-way, whither prince Firouz Schah advanced on\ntip-toe, without waking the eunuchs. He put by the curtain, and went\nin; and without staying to observe the magnificence of the chamber,\nwhich was what he did not much regard, he gave his attention to\nsomething of greater importance. He saw a great many beds; only one\nof them on a sofa, the rest on the floor. The princess lay in the\nfirst, and her women in the others.\n\nThis distinction was enough to direct the prince in his choice. He\ncrept softly to the bed without waking either the princess or her\nwomen, and beheld a beauty so extraordinary and surprising, that he\nwas charmed and inflamed with love at the first sight. O heavens!\nsaid he to himself, has my fate brought me hither to deprive me of\nmy liberty, which hitherto I have always preserved? How can I avoid\na certain slavery, when those eyes shall open, since without doubt,\nthey complete the lustre of this assemblage of charms? I must\nquickly resolve; since I cannot stir without being my own murderer;\nfor so has necessity ordained.\n\nAfter these reflections on his situation, and on the princess\u2019s\nbeauty, and examining the condition of his heart, he fell on his\nknees, and taking hold of the princess\u2019s shift sleeve, out of\nwhich came an arm as white as snow, pulled it gently towards him.\nThe princess opened her eyes, and seeing a handsome, well-shaped,\ncomely man on his knees, she was in great surprise; yet seemed to\nshow no sign of fear.\n\nThe prince made use of this favourable moment, bowed his head down\nto the ground, and, rising, said, Respectable princess, by the most\nextraordinary and wonderful adventure imaginable, you see here at\nyour feet a suppliant prince, the son of the king of Persia, who was\nyesterday morning with his father in his court, at the celebration\nof a solemn feast, and is now in a strange country, in danger of his\nlife, if you have not the goodness and generosity to give him your\nassistance and protection. These I implore, adorable princess, with\nthe confidence that you will not refuse me. I have the more ground\nto persuade myself that so much beauty and majesty, and such charms,\ncannot entertain the least inhumanity.\n\nThis princess, to whom prince Firouz Schah so happily addressed\nhimself, was the princess of Bengal, eldest daughter of the king of\nthat kingdom, who had built this palace a small distance from his\ncapital, whither she went to take the benefit of the country. After\nshe had heard the prince with all the candour he could desire, she\nreplied with equal goodness, Prince, you are not in a barbarous\ncountry; take courage: hospitality, humanity, and politeness, are to\nbe met with in the kingdom of Bengal, as well as in that of Persia.\nIt is not I who grant you the protection you ask; you not only have\nfound it in my palace, but throughout the whole kingdom; you may\nbelieve me, and depend upon what I say.\n\nThe prince of Persia would have thanked the princess of Bengal for\nher civility, and the favour she did him, and had already bowed down\nhis head to return the compliment, but she would not give him leave\nto speak. Notwithstanding I desire, said she, to know by what\nmiracle you have come hither from the capital of Persia in so short\na time, and by what enchantment you have been able to penetrate so\nfar as to come to my apartment, and to have deceived the vigilance\nof my guards, yet as it is impossible but you must want some\nrefreshment, and looking upon you as a welcome guest, I will wave my\ncuriosity, and give orders to my women to regale you, and show you\nan apartment, that you may rest yourself after your fatigue, and be\nbetter able to satisfy my curiosity.\n\nThe princess\u2019s women, who awaked at the first words which the\nprince addressed to the princess, were in the utmost surprise to see\na man at the princess\u2019s bolster, as they could not conceive how he\ngot thither without waking them or the eunuchs. They no sooner\ncomprehended the princess\u2019s intentions, than they dressed\nthemselves presently, and were ready to obey her commands, as soon\nas she gave them. They each took a wax candle, of which there were\ngreat numbers lighted up in the room; and after the prince had taken\nleave very respectfully, they went before him, and conducted him\ninto a handsome chamber; where, while some were preparing the bed,\nothers went into the kitchen; and notwithstanding it was so\nunseasonable an hour, they did not make prince Firouz Schah wait\nlong, but brought him presently all sorts of meat; and when he had\neaten as much as he chose, they removed the table, and left him to\ntaste the sweets of repose, after showing him several presses, where\nhe might find whatever he wanted.\n\nIn the mean time, the princess of Bengal was so struck with the\ncharms, wit, politeness, and other good qualities which she\ndiscovered in that short conversation with the prince, that she\ncould not sleep: but when her women came into her room to go to bed,\nagain asked them if they had taken care of him, and if he wanted any\nthing; and particularly what they thought of him.\n\nThe women, after they had satisfied her as to the first articles,\nanswered as to the last: We do not know what you may think of him,\nbut, for our parts, we think you would be very happy if the king\nyour father would marry you to so amiable a prince; for there is not\na prince in all the kingdom of Bengal to be compared to him; nor can\nwe hear that any of the neighbouring princes are worthy of you.\n\nThis flattering discourse was not displeasing to the princess of\nBengal; but as she had no mind to declare her sentiments to them,\nshe imposed silence upon them, telling them they talked without\nreflection, bidding them to go to bed and let her sleep.\n\nThe next day, the first thing the princess did as soon as she was\nup, was to sit down to her toilet. She took more pains in dressing\nand adjusting herself at the glass than ever she had done in her\nlife. She never had tried her women\u2019s patience so much before, by\nmaking them do and undo the same thing several times: Certainly,\nsaid she to herself, if the prince, as I perceive, was taken with me\nin my dishabille, he will be charmed with me when I am dressed. She\nadorned her head, neck, arms, and waist, with the finest and largest\ndiamonds she had. The habit she made use of was one of the richest\nstuffs of the Indies, of a most beautiful colour, and made only for\nkings, princes, and princesses. After she had consulted her glass a\nlong time, and asked her women, one after another, if any thing was\nwanting to her attire, she sent to know if the prince of Persia was\nawake; and as she never doubted but that, if he was up and dressed,\nhe would ask leave to come and pay his respects to her, she charged\nthe messenger to tell him she would make him the visit, and she had\nher reasons for this.\n\nThe prince of Persia, who by that night\u2019s rest had recovered the\nfatigue he had undergone the day before, had just dressed himself,\nwhen he received the princess of Bengal\u2019s compliments by one of\nher women. Without giving the lady who brought the message leave to\ncommunicate it, he asked her if it was proper for him then to go and\npay his respects to the princess; and when the lady had acquitted\nherself of the errand, he replied, it shall be as the princess\nthinks fit; I came here to be solely at her pleasure.\n\nAs soon as the princess of Bengal understood that the prince of\nPersia waited for her, she immediately went to pay him a visit.\nAfter mutual compliments on both sides, the prince asking pardon for\nhaving waked the princess out of a profound sleep, and the princess\ninquiring after his health, and how he rested, the princess sat down\non a sofa, as did also the prince, though at some distance, out of\nrespect.\n\nThen the princess, resuming the discourse, said, I would have\nreceived you, prince, in the chamber in which you found me in bed\nlast night; but as the chief of my eunuchs has the liberty of coming\ninto it, and never comes further without my leave, through my\nimpatience to hear the surprising adventure which procures me the\nhappiness of seeing you, I chose to come hither, that we may not be\ninterrupted; therefore I beg of you to give me that satisfaction,\nwhich will highly oblige me.\n\nPrince Firouz Schah, to gratify the princess of Bengal, began his\ndiscourse with the solemn and annual feast of the Nevrouz, relating\nall the sights worthy of her curiosity, which had amazed the court\nof Persia and the whole town of Schiraz. Afterwards he came to the\nenchanted horse; the description of which, with the account of the\nwonders the Indian performed on him before so august an assembly,\nconvinced the princess that nothing of that kind could be imagined\nmore surprising in the world. You may well think, charming princess,\ncontinued the prince of Persia, that the king my father, who cares\nnot what he gives for any thing that is rare and curious, would be\nvery desirous to purchase such a horse, as indeed he was. He asked\nthe Indian what he would have for him; who made him an extravagant\nreply, telling him, that he had not bought him, but taken him in\nexchange for his only daughter, and could not part with him but on\nthe like condition, which was, to have his consent to marry the\nprincess my sister.\n\nThe crowd of courtiers, who stood about the king my father, hearing\nthe extravagance of this proposal, laughed loudly at it; and I, for\nmy part, conceived so great indignation, that I could not disguise\nit; and the more, because I saw that the king my father was\nconsidering with himself what answer he should give him. In short, I\nbelieve he would have granted him what he asked, if I had not in the\nmost lively terms represented to him how injurious it would be to\nhis honour; yet my remonstrance could not bring him entirely to quit\nhis design of sacrificing the princess my sister to so despicable a\nperson. He fancied he should bring me over to his opinion, if once I\ncould comprehend, as he imagined he did, the singular worth of his\nhorse. With this view he would have me look at him, and mount him,\nand make a trial of him myself.\n\nTo please my father, I mounted the horse, and as soon as I was upon\nhis back I put my hand upon a peg, as I had seen the Indian do\nbefore me, to make the horse mount into the air, never staying to\ntake instructions of the owner. The instant I touched the peg, the\nhorse mounted with me into the air as swift as an arrow shot out of\na bow, and I was presently at such a distance from the earth that I\ncould not distinguish any object. By the swiftness of the motion I\nwas for some time unapprehensive of the danger to which I was\nexposed; but when I grew sensible of it, I endeavoured to turn the\npeg the contrary way. But the experiment would not answer my\nexpectation, and still the horse mounted with me, and carried me a\ngreater distance from the earth. At last I perceived another peg,\nwhich I turned, and then I grew sensible that the horse declined\ntowards the earth, and presently found myself so surrounded with\ndarkness, that it was impossible for me to guide the horse. In this\ncondition I laid the bridle on his neck, and trusted myself to the\nwill of God to dispose of my fate.\n\nNot long after the horse alighted, and I got off his back, and\nexamining whereabouts I might be, perceived myself on the terrace of\nthis palace, and found the door of the staircase half open. I came\nsoftly down the stairs, and seeing a door open by a small light, put\nmy head into the room, and saw some eunuchs asleep, and a great\nlight in another room. The necessity I was under, notwithstanding\nthe inevitable danger I was threatened with, if the eunuchs had\nwaked, inspired me with the boldness, or rather rashness, to cross\nthat room to get to the other.\n\nIt is needless, princess, added the prince, to tell you the rest,\nsince you are not unacquainted with all that passed afterwards. But\nI am obliged in duty to thank you for your goodness and generosity,\nand to beg of you to let me know how I may show my gratitude.\nAccording to the law of nations, I am already your slave, and cannot\nmake you an offer of my person; there only remains my heart: but,\nalas! princess, what do I say? My heart is no longer my own; your\ncharms have forced it from me, but in such a manner, as I will never\nask for it again, but yield it up: give me leave, therefore, to\ndeclare you mistress both of my heart and inclination.\n\nThese last words of the prince Firouz Schah were pronounced with\nsuch an air and tone, that the princess of Bengal never doubted a\nmoment of the effect she expected from her charms; neither did she\nseem to resent the precipitate declaration of the prince of Persia.\nHer blushes served but to heighten her beauty, and render her more\namiable in the eyes of the prince.\n\nAs soon as she had recovered herself, she replied, prince, you have\ngiven me a sensible pleasure by telling me those surprising,\nwonderful things. But, on the other hand, I can hardly forbear\nshuddering, when I think on the height you was in the air; and\nthough I have the good fortune to see you here safe and well, I was\nin pain till you came to that part where the Indian horse alighted\non my palace leads. The same thing might have happened in a thousand\nother places. I am glad that chance has given me the preference to\nthe whole world, and the opportunity of letting you know that it\ncould not have conducted you to any place where you could have been\nreceived more agreeably, and with greater pleasure.\n\nBut prince, continued she, I should think myself offended, if I\nbelieved that the thought you mentioned of being my slave was\nserious, and that it did not proceed from your politeness rather\nthan from a sincerity of sentiment; for, by the reception I gave you\nyesterday, you might assure yourself, you are here as much at\nliberty as in the midst of the court of Persia.\n\nAs to your heart, added the princess of Bengal, in a tone which\nshowed nothing less than a refusal, as I am persuaded that you have\nnot lived so long without disposing of it, and that you could not\nfail of making choice of a princess who deserves it, I should be\nvery sorry to give you an occasion to be guilty of infidelity to her.\n\nPrince Firouz Schah would have protested, that when he left Persia,\nhe was master of his own heart: but, at that instant, one of the\nprincess\u2019s ladies in waiting came to tell her that dinner was\nserved up.\n\nThis interruption delivered the prince and princess from an\nexplanation, which would have been equally embarrassing to both of\nthem, and of which they stood not in need. The princess of Bengal\nwas fully convinced of the prince of Persia\u2019s sincerity; and the\nprince, though the princess had not explained herself, judged\nnevertheless by some words she let fall, and the favourable manner\nshe heard him, that he had no reason to complain.\n\nAs the lady held the door open, the princess of Bengal said to the\nprince of Persia, rising off her seat, as he did also from his, I am\nnot used to dine so early; but as I fancied you might have had but\nan indifferent supper last night, I ordered dinner to be got ready\nsooner than ordinary. After this compliment, she led him into a\nmagnificent hall, where a table was laid, and set off with great\nplenty of choice and excellent viands; and as soon as they were sat\ndown, a great many beautiful slaves of the princess, richly dressed,\nbegan a most agreeable concert of vocal and instrumental music,\nwhich lasted the whole time of dinner.\n\nThis concert was so sweet and well managed, that it did not in the\nleast interrupt the prince and princess\u2019s conversation. All\ndinner-time their sole concern was to help and invite each other to\neat: the prince, for his part, served the princess with the choicest\nof every thing, and strove to outdo her in civility, both by words\nand actions, which she returned again, with a great many new\ncompliments: and in this reciprocal commerce of mutual civilities\nand attentions, love made a greater progress in both, than a\nconcerted interview would have promoted.\n\nWhen they rose from the table, the princess carried the prince into\na large and magnificent closet, finely embellished with paintings in\nblue and gold, of a just symmetry, and richly furnished; there they\nboth sat down upon a sofa, which afforded a most agreeable prospect\ninto the palace garden, which prince Firouz Schah admired for the\nvast variety of flowers, shrubs, and trees, which were full as\nbeautiful as those of Persia, but quite different. Here taking the\nopportunity of entering into a conversation with the princess, he\nsaid, I always believed, madam, that no part of the world but Persia\nafforded such stately palaces and beautiful gardens; but now I see\nthat other great monarchs know as well how to build mansions\nsuitable to their power and greatness; and if there is a difference\nin the manner of building, there is none in the grandeur and\nmagnificence.\n\nPrince, replied the princess of Bengal, as I have no idea of the\npalaces of Persia, I cannot judge of the comparison you have made of\nmine, to tell you my opinion of it. But however sincere you seem to\nbe, I can hardly think it just, but rather incline to believe it a\ncompliment: I will not despise my palace before you: you have too\ngood an eye, too good a taste, not to form a sound judgment. But I\nassure you I find it very indifferent, when I compare it with the\nking my father\u2019s, which far exceeds it for grandeur, beauty, and\nrichness: you shall tell me yourself what you think of it, when you\nhave seen it; for since a chance has brought you so nigh to the\ncapital of this kingdom, I do not doubt but you will see it, and\nmake my father a visit, that he may pay you all the honour due to a\nprince of your rank and merit.\n\nThe princess flattered herself, that by exciting in the prince of\nPersia a curiosity to see the Palace of Bengal, and to visit her\nfather in it, the king, seeing him so handsome, wise, and\naccomplished a prince, might perhaps resolve to propose an alliance\nwith him, by offering her to him as a wife. And as she was well\npersuaded she was not indifferent to the prince, and that he would\nbe pleased with the proposal, she hoped to attain to the utmost of\nher wishes, and preserve all the decorum becoming a princess, who\nwould appear resigned to the will of her king and father; but the\nprince of Persia did not return her an answer according to her\nexpectations.\n\nPrincess, replied the prince, the preference which you give to the\nking of Bengal\u2019s palace to your own, is enough for me to believe\nit much exceeds it: but as to the proposal of my going and paying my\nrespects to the king your father, I should not only do myself a\npleasure, but an honour. But judge, princess, yourself, would you\nadvise me to present myself before so great a monarch, like an\nadventurer, without attendants, and a train agreeable to my rank?\n\nPrince, replied the princess, let not that give you any pain; if you\nwill but go, you shall want no money to have what train and\nattendants you please: I will furnish you; and we have traders here\nof all nations in great numbers, and you may make what choice you\nplease, to form your household.\n\nPrince Firouz Schah penetrated into the princess of Bengal\u2019s\nintention, and this sensible mark she gave him of her love, still\naugmented his passion, which, notwithstanding its violence, made him\nnot forget his duty. But without any hesitation he replied,\nPrincess, I should most willingly accept of the obliging offer you\nmake me, for which I cannot enough show my gratitude, if the\nuneasiness my father must feel on account of my absence did not\nprevent me. I should be unworthy of the goodness and tenderness he\nhas always had for me, if I should not return as soon as possible to\ncalm his fears. I know him so well, that while I have the happiness\nof enjoying the conversation of so lovely a princess, I am persuaded\nthat he is plunged into the deepest grief, and has lost all hopes of\nseeing me again. I hope you will do me the justice to believe, that\nI cannot, without ingratitude, and being guilty of a crime, dispense\nwith going to restore to him that life, which a too long deferred\nreturn may have endangered.\n\nAfter this, princess, continued the prince of Persia, if you will\npermit me, and think me worthy to aspire to the happiness of\nbecoming your husband, as the king my father has always declared\nthat he never would constrain me in my choice, I should find it no\ndifficult matter to get leave to return, not as a stranger, but as a\nprince, to contract an alliance with him by our marriage; and I am\npersuaded that he will be overjoyed when I tell him with what\ngenerosity you received me, though a stranger in distress.\n\nThe princess of Bengal was too sensible, after what the prince of\nPersia had said, to insist any longer in persuading him to pay a\nvisit to the king of Bengal, or to ask any thing contrary to his\nduty and honour. But she was very much alarmed to find that he\nthought of so sudden a departure; fearing, that if he took his leave\nof her so soon, instead of remembering his promise, he would forget\nher when he ceased to see her. To divert him from it, she said to\nhim, Prince, my intention of proposing a visit to my father was not\nto oppose so just an excuse as that you give me, and which I did not\nforesee. I should have rendered myself an accomplice of the crime,\nhad I thought of it, but I cannot approve of your thinking to go so\nsoon as you propose; at least, grant me the favour I ask, of a\nlittle longer acquaintance; and since I have had the happiness to\nhave you alight in the kingdom of Bengal, rather than in the midst\nof a desert, or on the top of some steep craggy rock, from which it\nwould have been impossible for you to descend, I desire you will\nstay long enough to enable you to give a better account at the court\nof Persia of what you have seen here.\n\nThe sole end the princess of Bengal had in this discourse was, that\nthe prince of Persia, by a longer stay, might become insensibly more\npassionately enamoured of her charms, hoping thereby that his ardent\ndesire of returning would diminish, and then he might be brought to\nappear in public, and pay a visit to the king of Bengal. The prince\nof Persia could not well refuse her the favour she asked, after the\nkind reception she had given him: but was so complaisant as to\ncomply with her request; and the princess\u2019s thoughts were only how\nto render his stay agreeable by all the diversions she could imagine.\n\nNothing went forward for several days but festivals and balls, and\nconcerts of music, accompanied with magnificent feasts, and\ncollations, walks in the gardens, or hunting-parties in the\npalace-park, which abounded with all sorts of game, stags, hinds,\nand fallow-deer, and other beasts peculiar to the kingdom of Bengal,\nwhich the princess could pursue without danger. After the chase, the\nprince and princess met in some beautiful spot in the park, where a\ncarpet was spread, and cushions laid for their accommodation. There\nresting themselves, after their violent exercise, and recovering\nthemselves, they conversed on various subjects. The princess took\ngreat pains to turn the conversation on the grandeur, power, riches,\nand government of Persia; that from prince Firouz Schah\u2019s\ndiscourse she might have an opportunity to talk of the kingdom of\nBengal, and its advantages, and engage him to resolve to make a\nlonger stay there; but she was disappointed in her expectations.\n\nIn short, the prince of Persia, without the least exaggerations,\ngave so advantageous an account of the extent of the kingdom of\nPersia, its magnificence and riches, its military force, its\ncommerce by sea and land with the remote parts of the world, some of\nwhich were unknown to him; the vast number of large cities it\ncontained, almost as populous as that which the king had chosen for\nhis residence, where he had palaces furnished ready to receive him\nat all seasons of the year, so that he had his choice always to\nenjoy a perpetual spring; that before he had done, the princess\nfound the kingdom of Bengal to be very much inferior to that of\nPersia, in a great many instances. When he had finished his\nrelation, he begged of her to entertain him with a description of\nBengal; which, after a great deal of entreaty from the prince, she\ncomplied with.\n\nThe princess gave prince Firouz Schah that satisfaction; but by\nlessening a great many advantages the kingdom of Bengal was well\nknown to have over that of Persia, she let him know the disposition\nshe felt to accompany him, so that he believed she would consent at\nthe first proposition he should make; but he thought it would not be\nproper to make it till he had showed her so much complaisance as to\nstay with her long enough to make the blame fall on her, in case she\nwished to detain him longer from returning to his father, as he was\nin duty bound to do.\n\nTwo whole months the prince Firouz Schah abandoned himself entirely\nto the will of the princess of Bengal, yielding to all the\namusements she contrived for him, for she neglected nothing to\ndivert him, as if she thought he had nothing else to do but to pass\nhis whole life with her in this manner. But after that time, he\ndeclared seriously he could not stay any longer, and begged of her\nto give him leave to return to his father; repeating again the\npromise he had made her to return soon in a style worthy of her and\nhimself, and to demand her in form in marriage of the king of Bengal.\n\nAnd princess, replied the prince of Persia, that you may not suspect\nthe truth of what I say; and that by my asking this leave, you may\nnot rank me among those false lovers who forget the objects of their\nlove as soon as they are absent from them; but to show that my\npassion is real, and not feigned, and that life cannot be pleasant\nto me when absent from so lovely a princess, whose love to me I\ncannot doubt is mutual; I would presume, if I was not afraid you\nwould be offended at my request, to ask the favour of taking you\nalong with me.\n\nAs the prince Firouz Schah saw that the princess blushed at these\nlast words, and that without any mark of anger she hesitated at the\nstep she should take, he proceeded, and said, Princess, as for the\nking my father\u2019s consent, and the reception he will give you, I\nventure to assure you he will receive you with pleasure into his\nalliance; and as for the king of Bengal, after all the love and\ntender regard he has always expressed for you, he must be the\nreverse of what you have described him, an enemy to your repose and\nhappiness, if he should not receive in a friendly manner the embassy\nwhich my father will send to him for his approbation of our marriage.\n\nThe princess of Bengal returned no answer to this discourse of the\nprince of Persia; but her silence, and eyes cast down, were\nsufficient to inform him that she had no reluctance to accompany him\ninto Persia, but consented. The only difficulty she had was, that\nthe prince knew not well enough how to govern the horse, and she was\napprehensive of being involved with him in the same difficulty as\nwhen he made the experiment. But the prince soon removed her fear by\nassuring her she might trust herself with him, for that after the\nexperience he had had, he defied the Indian himself to manage him\nbetter. She thought therefore only of concerting measures to get off\nwith him so secretly, that nobody belonging to the palace should\nhave the least suspicion of their design.\n\nThe next morning, a little before daybreak, when all in the palace\nwere asleep, they went upon the terrace of the palace. The prince\nturned the horse towards Persia, and placed him where the princess\ncould easily get up behind him; which she had no sooner done, and\nwas well settled with her arms about his waist, for her better\nsecurity, but he turned the peg, and the horse mounted into the air,\nand making his usual haste, under the guidance of the prince, in two\nhours\u2019 time the prince discovered the capital of Persia.\n\nHe would not alight at the great square from whence he set out, nor\nin the sultan\u2019s palace, but directed his course towards a\npleasure-house at a little distance from the town. He led the\nprincess into a handsome apartment, where he told her, that to do\nher all the honour that was due to her, he would go and inform his\nfather of their arrival, and return to her immediately. He ordered\nthe housekeeper of the palace, who was then present, to provide the\nprincess with what ever she had occasion for.\n\nAfter the prince had taken his leave of the princess, he ordered a\nhorse to be saddled, which he mounted, after sending back the\nhousekeeper to the princess with orders to provide her breakfast\nimmediately, and then set forwards for the palace. As he passed\nthrough the streets, he was received with acclamations by the\npeople, who were overjoyed to see him again. The sultan his father\nwas giving audience, when he appeared before him in the midst of his\ncouncil, who, as well as the sultan and the whole court, had been in\nmourning ever since he had been absent. The sultan received him, and\nembracing him with tears of joy and tenderness, asked him, What was\nbecome of the Indian\u2019s horse?\n\nThis question gave the prince an opportunity to tell him the\nembarrassment and danger he was in when the horse mounted into the\nair with him, and how he arrived at last at the princess of\nBengal\u2019s palace, with the kind reception he met with there: that\nthe motive which obliged him to stay so long with her, was, the\ncomplaisance she had shown not to disoblige him, so that after\npromising to marry her, he had persuaded her to come with him into\nPersia. But, sir, added the prince, I have promised that you would\nnot refuse your consent, and have brought her with me on the\nIndian\u2019s horse, to a palace where your majesty often goes for your\npleasure; and have left her there, till I could return and assure\nher that my promise was not in vain.\n\nAfter these words, the prince prostrated himself before the sultan\nto gain his consent, but his father raised him up, embraced him a\nsecond time, and said to him, Son, I not only consent to your\nmarriage with the princes of Bengal, but will go and meet her\nmyself, and thank her for the obligation I in particular have to\nher, and will bring her to my palace, and celebrate your nuptials\nthis day.\n\nThen the sultan gave orders for his court to go out of mourning, and\nmake preparations for the princess\u2019s entry; that the rejoicings\nshould begin with a grand concert of military music, and that the\nIndian should be fetched out of prison and brought before him. When\nthe Indian was brought before the sultan, he said to him, I secured\nthy person, that thy life, though not a sufficient victim to my rage\nand grief, might answer for that of the prince my son, whom, thanks\nto God! I have found again: go, take your horse, and never let me\nsee your face more.\n\nAs the Indian had learned of those who fetched him out of prison,\nthat prince Firouz Schah was returned, and had brought a princess\nbehind him on his horse, and was also informed of the place where he\nhad alighted and left her, and that the sultan was making\npreparations to go and bring her to his palace; as soon as he got\nout of the sultan\u2019s presence, he bethought himself of being\nbeforehand with him and the prince; and, without losing any time,\nwent directly to the palace, and addressing himself to the\nhousekeeper, told him, he came from the sultan and prince of Persia,\nto fetch the princess of Bengal, and to carry her behind him through\nthe air to the sultan, who waited in the great square of his palace\nto gratify the whole court and city of Schiraz with that wonderful\nsight.\n\nThe housekeeper, who knew the Indian, and that the sultan had\nimprisoned him, gave the more credit to what he said, because he saw\nthat he was at liberty. He presented him to the princess of Bengal;\nwho no sooner understood that he came from the prince of Persia,\nthan she consented to what that prince, as she thought, desired of\nher.\n\nThe Indian, overjoyed at his success, and the ease with which he had\naccomplished his villany, mounted his horse, took the princess\nbehind him, with the assistance of the housekeeper, turned the peg,\nand presently the horse mounted into the air with him and the\nprincess.\n\nAt the same time the sultan of Persia, followed by his court, was on\nthe road from his own palace to the palace where the princess of\nBengal was left, and the prince of Persia was advanced before, to\nprepare the princess of Bengal to receive him, when the Indian to\nbrave them both, and revenge himself for the ill-treatment he had\nreceived, as he pretended, passed over their heads with his prize.\n\nWhen the sultan of Persia saw the ravisher, he stopped. His surprise\nand affliction was the more sensible, because it was not in his\npower to make him repent of so high an affront. He loaded him with a\nthousand imprecations, as also did all the courtiers, who were\nwitnesses of so signal a piece of insolence and unparalleled villany.\n\nThe Indian, little moved with their curses, which just reached his\nears, continued his way; while the sultan, extremely mortified at so\ngreat an injury, and to find he could not punish the author,\nreturned back to his palace.\n\nBut what was prince Firouz Schah\u2019s grief to see the Indian carry\naway the princess of Bengal, whom he loved so passionately, that he\ncould not live without her! At the sight of an object so little\nexpected, he was thunderstruck, and before he could deliberate with\nhimself whether he should let fly all the reproaches his rage could\ninvent against the Indian, or bewail the deplorable fate of the\nprincess, or ask her pardon for not taking better precaution to\npreserve her, who had trusted herself to his care in a manner\nsufficiently expressive of her love, the horse was out of sight. He\ncould not resolve what to do, whether he should return to the\nsultan\u2019s palace, and shut himself up in his apartment to give\nhimself entirely up to his affliction, without attempting to pursue\nthe ravisher, to deliver the princess, and punish him as he\ndeserved. But as his generosity, love, and courage, would not suffer\nthis, he continued on his way to the palace where he had left his\nprincess.\n\nWhen he came there, the housekeeper, who was by this time convinced\nof his credulity, and that he was deceived by the Indian, threw\nhimself at his feet with tears in his eyes, and accused himself of\nthe crime, which he thought he had committed, and condemned himself\nto die by his hand. Rise up, said the prince to him, I do not impute\nthe loss of my princess to thee, but to my own simplicity. But not\nto lose time, fetch me a dervise\u2019s habit, and take care you do not\ngive the least hint that it is for me.\n\nNot far from this palace there stood a convent of dervises, the\nscheik or superior of which was the palace-keeper\u2019s particular\nfriend. He went to this scheik, and telling him that a considerable\nofficer at court, and a man of worth, to whom he had been very much\nobliged, and wished to favour, by giving him an opportunity to\nwithdraw from the sultan\u2019s rage, he easily got a complete\ndervise\u2019s habit, and carried it to prince Firouz Schah. The prince\nimmediately pulled off his own clothes, and put it on; and being so\ndisguised, and provided with a box of jewels, which he had brought\nas a present to the princess, he left the palace in the evening,\nuncertain which way to go, but resolved not to return till he had\nfound out his princess, and brought her back again.\n\nBut to return to the Indian: he governed his enchanted horse so well\nthat day, that he arrived early in a wood, near the capital of the\nkingdom of Caschmire. Being hungry, and concluding the princess was\nalso, he alighted in that wood, in an open part of it, and left the\nprincess on a grassy spot, by a rivulet of clear fresh water.\n\nDuring the Indian\u2019s absence, the princess of Bengal, who knew that\nshe was in the power of a base ravisher, whose violence she dreaded,\nthought of getting from him, and seeking out some sanctuary. But as\nshe had scarce eaten any thing on her arrival at the pleasant palace\nin the morning, she was so faint, that she could not execute her\ndesign, but was forced to abandon it, and to stay where she was,\nwithout any other resource than her courage, and a firm resolution\nrather to suffer death, than be unfaithful to the prince of Persia.\nWhen the Indian returned, she did not wait to be asked twice, but\nate with him, and recovered herself enough to answer with courage to\nthe insolent language he began to hold to her when they had done.\nAfter a great many threats, as she saw that the Indian was preparing\nto use violence, she rose up to make resistance, and, by her cries\nand shrieks, drew about them a company of horsemen, which happened\nto be the sultan of Caschmire and his attendants, who, as they were\nreturning from hunting, happily for the princess of Bengal, passed\nthrough that part of the wood, and ran to her assistance, at the\nnoise she made.\n\nThe sultan addressed himself to the Indian, and asked him who he\nwas, and what he pretended to do with the lady? The Indian, with\ngreat impudence, replied, that she was his wife; and what had any\none to do with his quarrel with her?\n\nThe princess, who neither knew the rank nor quality of the person\nwho came so seasonably to her relief, told the Indian he was a liar;\nand said to the sultan, Sir, whoever you are that Heaven has sent to\nmy assistance, have compassion on a princess, and give no credit to\nthat impostor. Heaven forbid that I should be the wife of so vile\nand despicable an Indian! a wicked magician, that hath taken me away\nfrom the prince of Persia, to whom I was going to be married, and\nhath brought me hither on the enchanted horse that you see.\n\nThe princess of Bengal had no occasion to say any more to persuade\nthe sultan of Caschmire that what she told him was truth. Her\nbeauty, majestic air, and tears, spoke sufficiently for her. The\nsultan of Caschmire, justly enraged at the insolence of the Indian,\nordered his guards to surround him, and cut off his head; which\nsentence was immediately executed, the more easily, as the Indian,\njust released from prison, was unprovided with any weapon to defend\nhimself.\n\nThe princess, thus delivered from the persecution of the Indian,\nfell into another no less afflicting to her. The sultan, after he\nhad ordered her a horse, carried her with him to his palace, where\nhe lodged her in the most magnificent apartment, next his own, and\ngave her a great number of women-slaves to attend her, and a guard\nof eunuchs. He led her himself into the apartment he assigned her;\nwhere, without giving her time to thank him for the great obligation\nshe had to him, he said to her, As I am certain, princess, that you\nmust want rest, I will here take my leave of you till to-morrow,\nwhen you will be better able to give me all the circumstances of\nthis strange adventure; and then left her.\n\nThe princess of Bengal\u2019s joy was inexpressible to find she was so\nsoon freed from the violence of a man she could not look upon\nwithout horror. She flattered herself that the sultan of Caschmire\nwould complete his generosity by sending her back to the prince of\nPersia, when she told him her story, and asked that favour of him;\nbut she was very much deceived in these hopes, for the sultan of\nCaschmire resolved to marry her the next day; and for that end had\nordered rejoicings to be made by daybreak, by beating of drums and\nsounding of trumpets, and other instruments expressive of joy, which\nnot only echoed through the palace, but throughout the city.\n\nThe princess of Bengal was awakened by those tumultuous concerts,\nbut attributed them to a very different cause from the true one.\nWhen the sultan of Caschmire, who had given orders that he should be\ninformed when the princess was ready to receive a visit, came to pay\nher one; and when he had inquired after her health, he acquainted\nher that all those rejoicings were to render their nuptials more\nsolemn, and, at the same time, desired her to approve of them. This\ndiscourse put her into so great consternation that she fainted away.\n\nThe women-slaves who were present ran to her assistance; and the\nsultan did all he could to bring her to herself again, though it was\na long time before they could. But when she recovered, rather than\nbreak the promise she had made to prince Firouz Schah, by consenting\nto marry the sultan of Caschmire, who had proclaimed their nuptials\nbefore he had asked her consent, she resolved to feign madness. She\nbegan to say the most extravagant things before the sultan, and even\nrose off her seat to fly upon him; insomuch that the sultan was very\nmuch surprised and afflicted that he had made such a proposal so\nunseasonably.\n\nWhen he found that her frenzy rather increased than abated, he left\nher with her women, charging them never to leave her alone, but to\ntake great care of her. He sent often that day to know how she did,\nbut received no other answer but that she was rather worse than\nbetter. In short, at night she seemed much worse than she had been\nall day, insomuch that the sultan of Caschmire was disappointed of\nthe happiness he promised himself.\n\nThe princess of Bengal continued to talk wildly, and show other\nmarks of a disordered mind, next day and the following ones; so that\nthe sultan was obliged to send for all the physicians belonging to\nhis court, to consult them about her disease, and to ask them if\nthey could cure her.\n\nThe physicians all agreed that there were several sorts and degrees\nof this distemper, some curable and others not; and told the sultan\nthat they could not judge of the princess of Bengal\u2019s, unless they\nsaw her: upon which the sultan ordered the eunuchs to introduce them\ninto the princess\u2019s chamber, one after another, according to their\nrank.\n\nThe princess, who foresaw what would happen, and feared that, if she\nlet the physicians come near her to feel her pulse, the least\nexperienced of them would soon know that she was in a good state of\nhealth, and that her madness was only feigned, flew into such a rage\nand passion, that she was ready to tear out their eyes who came near\nher; so none of them durst approach her.\n\nSome of them, who pretended to be more skilful than the rest, and\nboasted of judging of diseases only by sight, ordered her some\npotions, which she made the less difficulty to take, well knowing\nshe could be sick or well at pleasure, and that they could do her no\nharm.\n\nWhen the sultan of Caschmire saw that his court physicians could not\ncure her, he called in the most noted and experienced of the city,\nwho had all no better success. Afterwards he sent for the most\nfamous in the kingdom, who met with no better reception than the\nothers from the princess, and what they ordered had no better\neffect. Afterwards he despatched expresses to the courts of\nneighbouring princes, with the princess\u2019s case, to be distributed\namong the most famous physicians, with a promise of a handsome\nreward to any of them who should come and cure the princess of\nBengal, besides travelling charges.\n\nA great many physicians came from all parts, and undertook the cure;\nbut none of them could boast of better success than their fellows,\nor of restoring the princess\u2019s faculties, since it was a case that\ndid not depend on their skill, but on the will of the princess\nherself.\n\nDuring this interval, prince Firouz Schah, disguised in the habit of\na dervise, had travelled through a great many provinces and towns,\nfull of grief; and having endured a great deal of fatigue, not\nknowing which way to direct his course, or if he did not take the\nvery opposite road from what he ought, to hear the tidings he\nsought. He made diligent inquiry after her at every place he came\nto, till at last, passing through a great town in India, he heard\nthe people talk very much of a princess of Bengal, who ran mad on\nthe day of the celebration of her nuptials with the sultan of\nCaschmire. At the name of the princess of Bengal, and supposing that\nthere was no other princess of Bengal than her upon whose account he\nundertook his travels, he set forwards for the kingdom of Caschmire,\non this common report; and on his arrival at the capital city, he\nwent and lodged at a khan, where the same day he was told the story\nof the princess of Bengal, and the unhappy fate of the Indian, which\nhe richly deserved. By all the circumstances, the prince knew he\ncould not be deceived, but that she was the same princess he had\nsought so long after.\n\nThe prince of Persia, being informed of all these particulars,\nprovided himself against the next day with a physician\u2019s habit,\nand, having let his beard grow during his travels, he passed for a\nphysician; and, through the greatness of his impatience to see the\nprincess, went to the sultan\u2019s palace, where, presenting himself\nto the chief of the officers, he told him that perhaps it might be\nlooked upon as a very bold undertaking in him to offer himself as a\nphysician to attempt the cure of the princess after so many had\nfailed; but that he hoped some specifics, which he had had great\nexperience of, and success from, would effect the cure. The chief of\nthe officers told him he was very welcome, that the sultan would\nreceive him with pleasure, and that if he should have the good\nfortune to restore the princess to her former health, he might\nexpect a considerable reward from the sultan his master\u2019s\nliberality: Stay a moment, added he, I will come to you again\npresently.\n\nIt had been a long time since any physician had offered himself; and\nthe sultan of Caschmire with great grief had begun to lose all hope\nof ever seeing the princess of Bengal restored to her former health,\nthat he might marry her, and show how much he loved her. He ordered\nthe officer to introduce to him the physician he had announced.\n\nThe prince of Persia was presented to the sultan of Caschmire in the\nhabit and disguise of a physician; and the sultan, without wasting\ntime in superfluous discourse, after having told him the princess of\nBengal could not bear the sight of a physician without falling into\nthe most violent transports, which increased her distemper, carried\nhim into a closet, from whence, through a window, he might see her\nwithout being seen.\n\nThere prince Firouz Schah saw his lovely princess sit carelessly\nsinging a song with tears in her eyes, in which she deplored her\nunhappy fate, which deprived her, perhaps for ever, of the object\nshe loved so tenderly.\n\nThe prince was so sensibly affected at the melancholy condition he\nfound his dear princess in, that he wanted no other signs to\ncomprehend that her distemper was feigned, and that it was for love\nof him that she was under so grievous a constraint. When he came out\nof the closet, he told the sultan that he had discovered the nature\nof the princess\u2019s distemper, and that she was not incurable; but\nadded withal, that he must speak with her in private, and by\nhimself; and, notwithstanding her violent fits at the sight of\nphysicians, he hoped she would hear and receive him favourably.\n\nThe sultan ordered the princess\u2019s chamber door to be opened, and\nprince Firouz Schah went in. As soon as the princess saw him,\n(taking him by his habit to be a physician) she rose up in a rage,\nthreatening him, and giving him the most abusive language. He made\ndirectly towards her; and when he was nigh enough for her to hear\nhim, for he did not wish to be heard by any one else, he said to\nher, in a low voice, and in a most respectful manner, to make her\nbelieve him, Princess, I am not a physician, but the prince of\nPersia, and am come to procure you your liberty.\n\nThe princess, who presently knew the sound of the voice, and the\nupper features of his face, notwithstanding he had let his beard\ngrow so long, grew calm at once, and a secret joy and pleasure\noverspread her face, the effect of seeing the person she so much\ndesired so unexpectedly. Her agreeable surprise deprived her for\nsome time of the use of her speech, and gave prince Firouz Schah\ntime to tell her as briefly as possible how despair seized him when\nhe saw the Indian carry her away; the resolution he took afterwards,\nto leave every thing to find her out wherever she was, and never to\nreturn home till he had found her, and forced her out of the hands\nof the perfidious wretch; and by what good fortune at last, after a\nlong and fatiguing journey, he had the satisfaction to find her in\nthe palace of the sultan of Caschmire. He then desired the princess\nto inform him of all that happened to her from the time she was\ntaken away till that moment when he had the happiness to converse\nwith her, telling her, that it was of the greatest importance to\nknow this, that he might take the most proper measures to deliver\nher from the tyranny of the sultan of Caschmire.\n\nThe princess of Bengal told the prince how she was delivered from\nthe Indian\u2019s violence by the sultan of Caschmire, as he was\nreturning home from hunting; but how ill she was treated the next\nday, by a declaration he had made of his precipitate design to marry\nher that very day, without the least civil office of asking her\nconsent; that this violent and tyrannical conduct put her into a\nswoon; after which, she thought she had no other way than what she\nhad taken to preserve herself for a prince to whom she had given her\nheart and faith, or die rather than marry the sultan, whom she\nneither loved, nor ever could love.\n\nThen the prince of Persia asked her if she knew what was become of\nthe horse after the Indian\u2019s death. To which she answered, that\nshe knew not what orders the sultan had given about it; but\nbelieved, after the account she had given him of it, he would take\ncare of it.\n\nAs prince Firouz Schah never doubted but that the sultan had the\nhorse, he communicated to the princess his design of making use of\nit to carry them both back into Persia; and after they had consulted\ntogether on the measures they were to take, and that nothing might\nprevent the execution of them, they agreed that the princess should\ndress herself the next day, and receive the sultan civilly when he\nbrought him to her, but without speaking to him.\n\nThe sultan of Caschmire was overjoyed when the prince of Persia gave\nhim an account what effect his first visit had towards the cure of\nthe princess of Bengal. And the next day, when the princess received\nhim after such a manner as persuaded him her cure was far advanced,\nhe looked upon him as the greatest physician in the world; and\nseeing her in this state, contented himself with telling her how\nrejoiced he was to see her so likely soon to recover her health\ncompletely. He exhorted her to follow the directions of so\nthoughtful a physician, to complete what he had so well begun; and\nthen retired, without waiting for her answer.\n\nThe prince of Persia, who attended the sultan of Caschmire out of\nthe princess\u2019s chamber, as he accompanied him, asked him if,\nwithout failing in due respect, he misfit inquire, How the princess\nof Bengal came into the dominions of Caschmire thus alone, since her\nown country lies so far off? This he said on purpose to introduce\nsome discourse about the enchanted horse, and to know what was\nbecome of it.\n\nThe sultan of Caschmire, who could not penetrate into the prince of\nPersia\u2019s motive for asking that question, concealed nothing from\nhim; but told him much the same story as the princess of Bengal had\ndone; adding, that he had ordered the enchanted horse to be kept\nsafe in his treasury as a great curiosity, though he knew not the\nuse of it.\n\nSir, replied the pretended physician, the information which your\nmajesty gives me affords me a means of curing the princess. As she\nwas brought hither on this horse, and the horse is enchanted, she\nhath contracted something of the enchantment, which can be\ndissipated only by certain incense which I am acquainted with. If\nyour majesty would be pleased to entertain yourself, your court, and\nthe people of your capital, with the most surprising sight that ever\nwas seen, let the horse be brought into the great square before the\npalace, and leave the rest to me. I promise to show you, and all\nthat assembly, in a few moments\u2019 time, the princess of Bengal as\nwell in body and mind as ever she was in her life. But, the better\nto effect what I propose, it would be proper that the princess\nshould be dressed as magnificently as possible, and adorned with the\nbest jewels your majesty has. The sultan would have undertaken much\nmore difficult things to have arrived at the enjoyment of his\ndesires, as he expected to do soon.\n\nThe next day the enchanted horse was, by his order, taken out of the\ntreasury, and placed early in the great square before the palace. A\nreport was spread through the town, that there was something\nextraordinary to be seen, and crowds of people flocked thither from\nall parts, insomuch that the sultan\u2019s guards were placed to\nprevent disorder, and to keep space enough round the horse.\n\nThe sultan of Caschmire, surrounded with all his nobles and\nministers of state, was placed on a scaffold erected on purpose. The\nprincess of Bengal, attended by a vast number of ladies which the\nsultan had assigned her, went up to the enchanted horse, and the\nwomen helped her to get upon its back. When she was fixed in the\nsaddle, and had the bridle in her hand, the pretended physician\nplaced round the horse a great many vessels full of fire, which he\nhad ordered to be brought, and going round it, he cast a strong and\ngrateful perfume into those pots; then, collected in himself, with\ndowncast eyes, and his hands upon his breast, he ran three times\nabout the horse, making as if he pronounced certain words. The\nmoment the pots sent forth a dark cloud of pleasant smell, which so\nsurrounded the princess, that neither she nor the horse were to be\ndiscerned, watching his opportunity, the prince jumped nimbly up\nbehind her, and, reaching his hand to the peg, turned it; and just\nas the horse rose with them into the air, he pronounced these words,\nwhich the sultan heard distinctly: Sultan of Caschmire, when you\nwould marry princesses who implore your protection, learn first to\nobtain their consent.\n\nThus the prince of Persia recovered and delivered the princess of\nBengal, and carried her that same day to the capital of Persia,\nwhere he alighted in the midst of the palace, before the king his\nfather\u2019s apartment, who deferred the solemnization of the marriage\nno longer than till he could make the preparations necessary to\nrender the ceremony pompous and magnificent, and express the\ninterest he took in it.\n\nAfter the days appointed for the rejoicing were over, the king of\nPersia\u2019s first care was to name and appoint an ambassador to go to\ngive the king of Bengal an account of what was past, and to demand\nhis approbation and ratification of the alliance contracted by this\nmarriage; which the king of Bengal took as an honour, and granted\nwith great pleasure and satisfaction.\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of Prince Ahmed, and the Fairy Pari Banou. [103]\n\n\nThere was a sultan who had peaceably filled the throne of India many\nyears, and had the satisfaction in his old age to have three sons,\nthe worthy imitators of his virtues, who, with the princess his\nniece, were the ornaments of his court. The eldest of the princes\nwas called Houssain, the second Ali, the youngest Ahmed, and the\nprincess his niece Nouronnihar. [104]\n\nThe princess Nouronnihar was the daughter of the younger brother of\nthe sultan, to whom the sultan in his lifetime allowed a\nconsiderable revenue. But that prince had not been married long\nbefore he died, and left the princess very young. The sultan, in\nconsideration of the brotherly love and friendship that had always\nsubsisted between them, besides a great attachment to his person,\ntook upon himself the care of his daughter\u2019s education, and\nbrought her up in his palace with the three princes; where her\nsingular beauty and personal accomplishments, joined to a lively wit\nand irreproachable virtue, distinguished her among all the\nprincesses of her time.\n\nThe sultan, her uncle, proposed to marry her when she arrived at a\nproper age, and to contract an alliance with some neighbouring\nprince by that means; and was thinking seriously on that affair,\nwhen he perceived that the three princes his sons loved her\npassionately. He was very much concerned, but his grief did not\nproceed from a consideration that their passion prevented his\nforming the alliance he designed, but the difficulty he foresaw to\nmake them agree, and that the two youngest should consent to yield\nher up to their elder brother. He spoke to each of them apart; and\nafter having remonstrated on the impossibility of one princess being\nthe wife of three persons, and the troubles they would create if\nthey persisted in their passion, he did all he could to persuade\nthem to abide by a declaration of the princess in favour of one of\nthem; or to desist from their pretensions, and to think of other\nmatches, which he left them free liberty to choose, and suffer her\nto be married to a foreign prince. But as he found them obstinate,\nhe sent for them altogether, and said to them, Children, since for\nyour good and quiet I have not been able to persuade you no longer\nto aspire to marry the princess your cousin; and as I have no\ninclination to make use of my authority, to give her to one\npreferable before the other two, I fancy I have thought of a proper\nexpedient which will please you all, and preserve the union among\nyou, if you will but hear me, and follow my advice. I think it would\nnot be amiss, if every one travelled separately into different\ncountries, so that you might not meet each other: and as you know I\nam very curious, and delight in every thing that is rare and\nsingular, I promise my niece in marriage to him that shall bring me\nthe most extraordinary rarity; so that as chance may lead you to\nform your own judgment of the singularity of the things which you\nbring, by the comparison you make of them, you will have no\ndifficulty to do yourselves justice by yielding the preference to\nhim who has deserved it; and for the expense of travelling, I will\ngive each of you a sum agreeable to your birth, and the purchase of\nthe rarity you shall go in search after; which shall not be laid out\nin an equipage and attendants, which by discovering who you are,\nwould not only deprive you of the liberty to acquit yourselves of\nthe inquiry you go about, but prevent your observing those things\nwhich merit your attention, and may be most useful to you.\n\nAs the three princes were always submissive and obedient to the\nsultan\u2019s will, and each flattered himself fortune might prove\nfavourable to him, and give him the possession of the princess\nNouronnihar, they all consented to it. The sultan gave them the\nmoney he promised them; and that very day they issued orders for the\npreparations for their travels, and took leave of the sultan, that\nthey might be ready to set out early next morning. They all went out\nat the same gate of the city, each dressed like a merchant, attended\nby a trusty officer, dressed like a slave, and all well mounted and\nequipped. They went the first day\u2019s journey together, and slept at\nthe first inn, where the road divided into three different tracks.\nAt night when they were at supper together, they all agreed to\ntravel for a year, and to make that inn their rendezvous; and that\nthe first that came should wait for the rest; that as they had all\nthree taken leave together of the sultan, they might all return\ntogether. The next morning by break of day, after they had embraced\nand wished each other reciprocally good success, they mounted their\nhorses, and took each a different road.\n\nPrince Houssain, the eldest brother, who had heard wonders of the\nextent, strength, riches, and splendour of the kingdom of Bisnagar,\nbent his course towards the Indian coast; and, after three months\u2019\ntravelling, joining himself to different caravans, sometimes over\ndeserts and barren mountains, and sometimes through populous and\nfertile countries, arrived at Bisnagar, the capital of the kingdom\nof that name, and the residence of its king. He lodged at a khan\nappointed for foreign merchants, and having learnt that there were\nfour principal divisions where merchants of all sorts kept their\nshops, in the midst of which stood the castle, or rather the\nking\u2019s palace, on a large extent of ground, as the centre of the\ncity, and surrounded with three courts, and each gate distant two\nleagues from the other, he went to one of these quarters the next\nday.\n\nPrince Houssain could not view this quarter without admiration. It\nwas large, and divided into several streets, all vaulted and shaded\nfrom the sun, and yet very light. The shops were all of the same\nsize and proportion; and all that dealt in the same sort of goods,\nas well as all the artists, lived in one street.\n\nThe multitude of shops stocked with all kinds of merchandises, such\nas the finest linens from several parts of India, some painted in\nthe most lively colours, and representing men, landscapes, trees,\nand flowers; silks and brocades, from Persia, China, and other\nplaces; porcelain from Japan and China; foot carpets of all sizes;\nsurprised him so much, that he knew not how to believe his own eyes;\nbut when he came to the shops of the goldsmiths and jewellers, (for\nthose two trades were exercised by the same merchants,) he was in a\nkind of ecstasy, to behold such prodigious quantities of wrought\ngold and silver, and was dazzled by the lustre of the pearls,\ndiamonds, rubies, emeralds, and other precious stones exposed to\nsale. But if he was amazed at seeing so many riches in one place, he\nwas much more surprised when he came to judge of the wealth of the\nwhole kingdom, by considering, that except the bramins, and\nministers of the idols, who profess a life retired from worldly\nvanity, there was not an Indian man or woman, through the extent of\nthat kingdom, but wore necklaces, bracelets, and ornaments about\ntheir legs and feet, made of pearls, and other precious stones,\nwhich appeared with the greater lustre, as they were blacks, which\ncolour admirably set off their brilliancy.\n\nAnother thing prince Houssain particularly admired, was the great\nnumber of rose sellers, who crowded the streets; for the Indians are\nso great lovers of that flower, that not one will stir without a\nnosegay of them in his hand, or a garland of them on his head; and\nthe merchants keep them in pots in the shops, so that the air of the\nwhole quarter, however large, is perfectly perfumed.\n\nAfter prince Houssain had run through that quarter, street by\nstreet, his thoughts fully employed on the riches he had seen, he\nwas very much tired; which a merchant perceiving, civilly invited\nhim to sit down in his shop. He accepted his offer; but had not been\nseated long before he saw a crier pass by with a piece of carpet on\nhis arm, about six feet square, and cry it at thirty purses. The\nprince called to the crier, and asked to see the carpeting, which\nseemed to him to be valued at an exorbitant price, not only for the\nsize of it, but the meanness of the stuff. When he had examined it\nwell, he told the crier, that he could not comprehend how so small a\npiece of carpeting, and of so indifferent an appearance, could be\nset at so high a price.\n\nThe crier, who took him for a merchant, replied, Sir, if this price\nseems so extravagant to you, your amazement will be greater when I\ntell you I have orders to raise it to forty purses, and not to part\nwith it under. Certainly, answered prince Houssain, it must have\nsomething very extraordinary in it, which I know nothing of. You\nhave guessed it, sir, replied the crier, and will own it when you\ncome to know, that whoever sits on this piece of carpeting may be\ntransported in an instant wherever he desires to be, without being\nstopped by any obstacle. [105]\n\nAt this discourse of the crier, the prince of the Indies,\nconsidering that the principal motive of his travel was to carry the\nsultan his father home some singular rarity, thought that he could\nnot meet with any which would give more satisfaction. If the\ncarpeting, said he to the crier, has the virtue you assign it, I\nshall not think it too much; but shall make you a present besides.\nSir, replied the crier, I have told you the truth; and it will be an\neasy matter to convince you of it, as soon as you have made the\nbargain for forty purses, on condition I show you the experiment.\nBut as I suppose you have not so much with you, and to receive them\nI must go with you to the khan where you lodge, with the leave of\nthe master of the shop, we will go into the back shop, and I will\nspread the carpeting; and when we have both sat down, and you have\nformed the wish to be transported into your apartment at the khan,\nif we are not transported thither it shall be no bargain, and you\nshall be at your liberty. As to your present, as I am paid for my\ntrouble by the seller, I shall receive it as a favour, and be very\nmuch obliged to you for it.\n\nOn the credit of the crier, the prince accepted the conditions, and\nconcluded the bargain; and having obtained the master\u2019s leave,\nthey went into his back-shop: they both sat down on the carpeting;\nand as soon as the prince formed his wish to be transported into his\napartment at the khan, he presently found himself and the crier\nthere in the same situation; and as he wanted not a more sufficient\nproof of the virtue of the carpeting, he counted to the crier forty\npurses of gold, and gave him twenty pieces for himself.\n\nIn this manner prince Houssain became the possessor of the\ncarpeting, and was overjoyed that at his arrival at Bisnagar he had\nfound so rare a piece, which he never doubted would gain the\npossession of Nouronnihar. In short, he looked upon it as an\nimpossible thing for the princes, his younger brothers, to meet with\nany thing to be compared with it. It was in his power, by sitting on\nthis carpeting, to be at the place of rendezvous that very day; but\nas he was obliged to stay there for his brothers, as they had\nagreed, and as he was curious to see the king of Bisnagar and his\ncourt, and to inform himself of the strength, laws, customs, and\nreligion of the kingdom, he chose to make a longer abode there, and\nto spend some months in satisfying his curiosity.\n\nIt was a custom of the king of Bisnagar to give all strange\nmerchants access to his person once a week; and by that title prince\nHoussain, who would not be known, saw him often: and as this prince\nwas handsome, witty, and extremely polite, he easily distinguished\nhimself among the merchants, and was preferred before them all by\nthe sultan, who addressed himself to him, to be informed of the\nperson of the sultan of the Indies, and of the government, strength,\nand riches of his dominions.\n\nThe rest of his time the prince spent in seeing what was most\nremarkable in and about the city; and among those things which were\nmost worthy of admiration, he visited a temple of idols, remarkable\nfor being built all of brass. It was ten cubits square, and fifteen\nhigh; and the greatest ornament to it was an idol of the height of a\nman, of massy gold; its eyes were two rubies, set so artificially,\nthat it seemed to look at those who looked at it, on which side\nsoever they turned: besides this, there was another not less\ncurious, in a village, in the midst of a plain of about ten acres,\nwhich was a delicious garden full of roses and the choicest flowers,\nsurrounded with a small wall breast high, to keep the cattle out. In\nthe midst of this plain was raised a terrace, a man\u2019s height, so\nnicely paved, that the whole pavement seemed to be but one single\nstone. A temple was erected in the middle of this terrace, with a\ndome about fifty cubits high, which might be seen for several\nleagues round. It was thirty cubits long, and twenty broad, built of\nred marble, highly polished. The inside of the dome was adorned with\nthree rows of fine paintings, in good taste; and there was not a\nplace in the whole temple but what was embellished with paintings,\nbasso relievos, and figures of idols from top to bottom.\n\nEvery night and morning there were superstitious ceremonies\nperformed in this temple, which were always succeeded by sports,\nconcerts of music, dancing, singing, and feasts. The ministers of\nthe temple, and the inhabitants of the place, had nothing to subsist\non but the offerings of pilgrims, who came in crowds from the most\ndistant parts of the kingdom to perform their vows.\n\nPrince Houssain was also spectator of a solemn feast, which was\ncelebrated every year at the court of Bisnagar, at which all the\ngovernors of provinces, commanders of fortified places, all\ngovernors and judges of towns, and the bramins most celebrated for\ntheir learning, were obliged to be present; and some lived so far\noff that they were four months in coming. This assembly, composed of\nsuch innumerable multitudes of Indians, met in a plain of vast\nextent, was a glorious sight, as far as the eye could reach. In the\ncentre of this plain was a square of great length and breadth,\nclosed on one side by a large scaffolding of nine stories, supported\nby forty pillars, raised for the king and his court, and those\nstrangers he admitted to audience once a week; within it was adorned\nand furnished magnificently; and on the outside were painted fine\nlandscapes, wherein all sorts of beasts, birds, and insects, even\nflies and gnats, were drawn very naturally. Other scaffolds of at\nleast four or five stories, and painted almost all alike, formed the\nother three sides. But what was more particular in these scaffolds,\nthey could turn them, and make them change their situation and\ndecorations every hour.\n\nOn each side of the square, at some little distance from each other,\nwere ranged 1000 elephants, sumptuously harnessed, and each having\nupon his back a square wooden castle, finely gilt, in which were\nmusicians and stage-players. The trunks, ears, and bodies of these\nelephants were painted with cinnabar and other colours, representing\ngrotesque figures.\n\nBut what prince Houssain most of all admired, as a proof of the\nindustry, address, and inventive genius of the Indians, was to see\nthe largest of these elephants stand with his four feet on a post\nfixed into the earth, and standing out of it above two feet, playing\nand beating time with his trunk to the music. Besides this, he\nadmired another elephant as big as this, set upon a board, which was\nlaid across a strong beam about ten feet high, with a great weight\nat the other end, which balanced him, while he kept time, by the\nmotions of his body and trunk, with the music, as well as the other\nelephant. The Indians, after having fastened on the counterpoise,\nhad drawn the other end of the board down to the ground, and made\nthe elephant get upon it.\n\nPrince Houssain might have made a longer stay in the kingdom and\ncourt of Bisnagar, where he would have been agreeably diverted by a\ngreat variety of other wonders, till the last day of the year,\nwhereon he and his brothers had appointed to meet. But he was so\nwell satisfied with what he had seen, and his thoughts ran so much\nupon the object of his love, that after his good success in meeting\nwith this carpeting, the beauty and charms of the princess\nNouronnihar increased every day the violence of his passion, and he\nfancied he should be the more easy and happy the nearer he was to\nher. After he had satisfied the master of the khan for his\napartment, and told him the hour when he might come for the key,\nwithout telling him how he should go, he shut the door, put the key\non the outside, and spreading the carpeting, he and the officer he\nhad brought with him sat down on it, and as soon as he had formed\nhis wish, were transported to the inn at which he and his brothers\nwere to meet, and where he passed for a merchant till they came.\n\nPrince Ali, prince Houssain\u2019s second brother, who designed to\ntravel into Persia, in conformity to the intention of the sultan of\nthe Indies, took that road, having three days after he parted with\nhis brothers joined a caravan; and after four months travelling,\narrived at Schiraz, which was then the capital of the kingdom of\nPersia; and having in the way contracted a friendship with some\nmerchants, passed for a jeweller, and lodged in the same khan with\nthem.\n\nThe next morning, while the merchants opened their bales of\nmerchandises, prince Ali, who travelled only for his pleasure, and\nhad brought nothing but necessaries with him, after he had dressed\nhimself, took a walk into that quarter of the town where they sold\nprecious stones, gold and silver works, brocades, silks, fine\nlinens, and other choice and valuable merchandises, and which was at\nSchiraz called the bezestein. It was a spacious and well-built\nplace, arched over, and the arches supported by large pillars, round\nwhich, as well as along the walls, within and without, were shops.\nPrince Ali soon rambled through the bezestein, and with admiration\njudged of the riches of the place by the prodigious quantities of\nthe most precious merchandises that were there exposed to view.\n\nBut among all the criers who passed backwards and forwards with\nseveral sorts of goods, offering to sell them, he was not a little\nsurprised to see one who held in his hand an ivory tube, of about a\nfoot in length, and about an inch thick, and cried it at thirty\npurses. At first he thought the crier mad, and to inform himself,\nwent to a shop, and said to the merchant, who stood at the door,\nPray, sir, is not that man (pointing to the crier, who cried the\nivory tube at thirty purses) mad? If he is not, I am very much\ndeceived. Indeed, sir, answered the merchant, he was in his right\nsenses yesterday; and I can assure you he is one of the ablest\ncriers we have, and the most employed of any, as being to be\nconfided in, when any thing valuable is to be sold; and, if he cries\nthe ivory tube at thirty purses, it must be worth as much, or more,\non some account or other which does not appear. He will come by\npresently, and we will call him, and you shall satisfy yourself: in\nthe mean time, sit down on my sofa, and rest yourself.\n\nPrince Ali accepted of the merchant\u2019s obliging offer, and\npresently afterwards the crier passed by. The merchant called him by\nhis name; and, pointing to the prince, said to him, Tell that\ngentleman, who asked me if you were in your right senses, what you\nmean by crying that ivory tube, which seems not to be worth much, at\nthirty purses. I should be very much amazed myself, if I did not\nknow you were a sensible man. The crier, addressing himself to\nprince Ali, said, Sir, you are not the only person that takes me for\na madman on the account of this tube: you shall judge yourself\nwhether I am or no, when I have told you its property; and I hope\nyou will value it at as high a price as those I have showed it to\nalready, who had as bad an opinion of me as you have.\n\nFirst, sir, pursued the crier, presenting the ivory tube to the\nprince, observe, that this tube is furnished with a glass at both\nends; and consider, that, by looking through one of them, you see\nwhatever object you wish to behold. I am, said the prince, ready to\nmake you all proper reparation for the scandal I have thrown on you,\nif you will make the truth of what you advance appear; and, as he\nhad the ivory tube in his hand, after he had looked at the two\nglasses, he said, Show me at which of these ends I must look, that I\nmay be satisfied. The crier presently showed him; and he looked\nthrough, wishing, at the same time, to see the sultan his father,\nwhom he immediately beheld in perfect health, sitting on his throne,\nin the midst of his council. Afterwards, as there was nothing in the\nworld so dear to him, after the sultan, as the princess Nouronnihar,\nhe wished to see her; and saw her sitting at her toilet, laughing,\nand in a pleasant humour, with her women about her. [106]\n\nPrince Ali wanted no other proof to persuade him that this tube was\nthe most valuable thing, not only in the city of Schiraz, but in all\nthe world; and believed that, if he should neglect to purchase it,\nhe should never meet again with such another rarity. He said to the\ncrier, I am very sorry that I should have entertained so bad an\nopinion of you, but hope to make you amends by buying the tube, for\nI should be sorry if any body else had it: so tell me the lowest\nprice the seller has fixed upon it; and do not give yourself any\nfarther trouble to hawk it about, but go with me, and I will pay you\nthe money. The crier assured him, with an oath, that his last orders\nwere to take no less than forty purses; and, if he disputed the\ntruth of what he said, he would carry him to his employer. The\nprince believed him, took him with him to the khan where he lodged,\ntold him out the money, and received the tube.\n\nPrince Ali was overjoyed at his bargain; and persuaded himself that,\nas his brothers would not be able to meet with any thing so rare and\nadmirable, the princess Nouronnihar would be the recompense of his\nfatigue and trouble. He thought now of only visiting the court of\nPersia incognito, and seeing whatever was curious in and about\nSchiraz, till the caravan with which he came returned back to the\nIndies. He had satisfied his curiosity, when the caravan was ready\nto set out. The prince joined them, and arrived happily without any\naccident or trouble, otherwise than the length of the journey and\nfatigue of travelling, at the place of rendezvous, where he found\nprince Houssain, and both waited for prince Ahmed.\n\nPrince Ahmed took the road of Samarcande; and the next day after his\narrival there, went, as his brothers had done, into the bezestein;\nwhere he had not walked long, but he heard a crier, who had an\nartificial apple in his hand, cry it at five-and-thirty purses. He\nstopped the crier, and said to him, Let me see that apple, and tell\nme what virtue or extraordinary property it has, to be valued at so\nhigh a rate. Sir, said the crier, giving it into his hand, if you\nlook at the outside of the apple, it is very inconsiderable; but if\nyou consider its properties, virtues, and the great use, and benefit\nit is of to mankind, you will say it is invaluable, and it is\ncertain that he who possesses it, is master of a great treasure. It\ncures all sick persons of the most mortal diseases, whether fever,\npleurisy, plague, or other malignant distempers; and, if the patient\nis dying, it will recover him immediately, and restore him to\nperfect health: and this is done after the easiest manner in the\nworld, merely by the patient\u2019s smelling to the apple.\n\nIf one may believe you, replied prince Ahmed, the virtues of this\napple are wonderful, and it is indeed invaluable: but what ground\nhas a plain man like myself, who may wish to become the purchaser,\nto be persuaded that there is no disguise nor exaggeration in the\nhigh praises you bestow on it. Sir, replied the crier, the thing is\nknown and averred by the whole city of Samarcande; but, without\ngoing any farther, ask all these merchants you see here, and hear\nwhat they say; you will find several of them will tell you, they had\nnot been alive this day if they had not made use of this excellent\nremedy; and, that you may the better comprehend what it is, I must\ntell you, it is the fruit of the study and experience of a\ncelebrated philosopher of this city, who applied himself all his\nlifetime to the knowledge of the virtues of plants and minerals, and\nat last attained to this composition, by which he performed such\nsurprising cures in this city as will never be forgotten; but died\nsuddenly himself, before he could apply his own sovereign remedy,\nand left his wife and a great many young children behind him in very\nindifferent circumstances; who, to support her family, and provide\nfor her children, has resolved to sell it.\n\nWhile the crier was telling prince Ahmed the virtues of the\nartificial apple, a great many persons came about them, and\nconfirmed what he said; and one among the rest said he had a friend\ndangerously ill, whose life was despaired of, which was a favourable\nopportunity to show prince Ahmed the experiment. Upon which prince\nAhmed told the crier, he would give him forty purses if he cured the\nsick person by smelling to it.\n\nThe crier, who had orders to sell it at that price, said to prince\nAhmed, Come, sir, let us go and make the experiment, and the apple\nshall be yours; and I say this with the greater confidence, as it is\nan undoubted fact that it will always have the same effect as it\nalready has had as often as it has been employed to recover from\ndeath so many sick persons whose life was despaired of. In short,\nthe experiment succeeded; and the prince, after he had counted out\nto the crier forty purses, and the other had delivered the apple to\nhim, waited with the greatest impatience for the first caravan that\nshould return to the Indies. In the mean time he saw all that was\ncurious at and about Samarcande, and principally the valley of\nSogda, [107] so called from the river which waters it, and is\nreckoned by the Arabians to be one of the four paradises of the\nworld, for the beauty of its fields and gardens, and the fine\npalaces, and for its fertility in fruit of all sorts, and all the\nother pleasures enjoyed there in the fine season.\n\nAt last prince Ahmed joined himself to the first caravan that\nreturned to the Indies, and, notwithstanding the inevitable\ninconveniences of so long a journey, arrived in perfect health at\nthe inn where the princes Houssain and Ali waited for him.\n\nPrince Ali, who came there some time before prince Ahmed, asked\nprince Houssain, who got thither the first, how long he had been\nthere; who told him, three months: to which he replied, Then\ncertainly you have not been very far. I will tell you nothing now,\nsaid prince Houssain, where I have been, but only assure you I was\nabove three months travelling to the place I went to. But then,\nreplied prince Ali, you made a short stay there. Indeed, brother,\nsaid prince Houssain, you are mistaken: I resided at one place above\nfour or five months, and might have stayed longer. Unless you flew\nback, replied prince Ali again, I cannot comprehend how you can have\nbeen three months here, as you would make me believe.\n\nI tell you the truth, added prince Houssain, and it is a riddle\nwhich I shall not explain to you till our brother Ahmed comes; when\nI will let you know what rarity I have brought home from my travels.\nFor your part, I know not what you have got, but believe it to be\nsome trifle, because I do not perceive that your baggage is\nincreased. And pray what have you brought? replied prince Ali; for I\ncan see nothing but an ordinary piece of carpeting, with which you\ncover your sofa, and therefore I think I may return your raillery;\nand, as you seem to make what you brought a secret, you cannot take\nit amiss that I do the same with respect to what I have brought.\n\nI look upon the rarity I have purchased, replied prince Houssain, to\nexcel all others whatever, and should not make any difficulty to\nshow it you, and make you agree that it is so, and at the same time\ntell you how I came by it, without being in the least apprehensive\nthat that which you have got is to be preferred to it. But it is\nproper that we should stay till our brother Ahmed arrives, that we\nmay all communicate our good fortune to each other.\n\nPrince Ali would not enter into a dispute with prince Houssain on\nthe preference he gave his rarity, but was satisfied and persuaded,\nthat, if his perspective glass was not preferable, it was impossible\nit should be inferior to it; and therefore agreed to stay till\nprince Ahmed arrived, to produce his purchase.\n\nWhen prince Ahmed came to his brothers, and they had embraced with\ntenderness, and complimented each other on the happiness of meeting\ntogether at the same place they set out from, prince Houssain, as\nthe elder brother, assumed the discourse, and said to them,\nBrothers, we shall have time enough hereafter to entertain ourselves\nwith the particulars of our travels; let us come to that which is of\nthe greatest importance for us to know; and, as I do not doubt you\nremember the principal motive which engaged us to travel, let us not\nconceal from each other the curiosities we have brought home, but\nshow them, that we may do ourselves justice beforehand, and see to\nwhich of us the sultan our father may give the preference.\n\nTo set the example, continued prince Houssain, I will tell you that\nthe rarity which I have brought from my travels to the kingdom of\nBisnagar, is the carpeting on which I sit, which looks but ordinary,\nand makes no show; but, when I have declared its virtues to you, you\nwill be struck with admiration, and will confess you never heard of\nany thing like it. In short, whoever sits on it, as we do, and\ndesires to be transported to any place, be it ever so far off, is\nimmediately carried thither. I made the experiment myself before I\npaid down the forty purses, which I most readily gave for it; and\nwhen I had fully satisfied my curiosity, at the court of Bisnagar,\nand had a mind to return, I made use of no other carriage than this\nwonderful carpet for myself and servant, who can tell you how long\nwe were coming hither. I will show you both the experiment whenever\nyou please. I expect that you shall tell me whether what you have\nbrought is to be compared with this carpet.\n\nHere prince Houssain made an end of commending the excellency of his\ncarpet; and prince Ali, addressing himself to him, said, I must own,\nbrother, that your carpet is one of the most surprising things\nimaginable, if it has, as I do not doubt in the least, that property\nyou speak of. But you must allow that there may be other things, I\nwill not say more, but at least as wonderful, in another way; and to\nconvince you there are, here is an ivory tube, which appears to the\neye no more a rarity than your carpet, and yet merits great\nattention; it cost me as much, and I am as well satisfied with my\npurchase as you can be with yours; and you will be so just as to own\nthat I have not been cheated, when you know by experience, that by\nlooking at one end, you see whatever object you wish to behold. I\nwould not have you take my word, added prince Ali, presenting the\ntube to him; take it, make trial of it yourself.\n\nPrince Houssain took the ivory tube from prince Ali, and clapped\nthat end to his eye which prince Ali showed him, with an intention\nto see the princess Nouronnihar, and to know how she did; when\nprince Ali and prince Ahmed, who kept their eyes fixed upon him,\nwere extremely surprised to see his countenance change on a sudden\nin such a manner as expressed an extraordinary surprise and\naffliction. Prince Houssain would not give them time to ask what was\nthe matter, but cried out, Alas! princes, to what purpose have we\nundertaken so long and fatiguing journeys, but with the hopes of\nbeing recompensed by the possession of the charming Nouronnihar,\nwhen in a few moments that lovely princess will breathe her last. I\nsaw her in her bed, surrounded by her women and eunuchs, who were\nall in tears, and seem to expect nothing less than to see her give\nup the ghost. Take the tube, behold yourselves the miserable state\nshe is in, and mingle your tears with mine.\n\nPrince Ali took the tube out of prince Houssain\u2019s hand, and after\nhe had seen the same object with a sensible grief, presented it to\nprince Ahmed, who took it, to behold the melancholy sight which so\nmuch concerned them all.\n\nWhen prince Ahmed had taken the tube out of prince Ali\u2019s hands,\nand saw that the princess Nouronnihar\u2019s end was so near, he\naddressed himself to his two brothers, and said, Princes, the\nprincess Nouronnihar, equally the object of our vows, is indeed just\nat death\u2019s door; but provided we make haste, and lose no time, we\nmay preserve her life. Then he took the artificial apple out of his\nbosom, and showing it to the princes his brothers, said to them,\nThis apple which you see here, cost me as much and more than either\nthe carpet or tube. The opportunity which now presents itself to\nshow you its wonderful virtue, makes me not regret the forty purses\nI gave for it. But, not to keep you longer in suspense, it has the\nvirtue, if a sick person smells it, though in the last agonies, to\nrestore him to perfect health immediately. I have made the\nexperiment, and can show you its wonderful effect on the person of\nprincess Nouronnihar, if we make all due haste to assist her.\n\nIf that is all, replied prince Houssain, we cannot make more\ndespatch than by transporting ourselves instantly into her chamber\nby the means of my carpet. Come, lose no time; sit down on it by me;\nit is large enough to hold us all three: but first let us give\norders to our servants to set out immediately, and join us at the\npalace.\n\nAs soon as the order was given, prince Ali and prince Ahmed went and\nsat down by prince Houssain, and as their interest was the same,\nthey all three framed the same wish, and were transported into the\nprincess Nouronnihar\u2019s chamber.\n\nThe presence of the three princes, who were so little expected,\nfrightened the princess\u2019s women and eunuchs, who could not\ncomprehend by what enchantment three men should be among them; for\nthey did not know them at first; and the eunuchs were ready to fall\nupon them, as people who had got into a part of the palace where\nthey were not allowed to come; but they presently recollected and\nfound their mistake.\n\nPrince Ahmed no sooner saw himself in Nouronnihar\u2019s chamber, and\nperceived that princess dying, but he rose off the tapestry, as did\nalso the other two princes, and went to the bed-side, and put the\napple under her nose. Some moments after, the princess opened her\neyes, and turned her head from one side to another, looking at the\npersons who stood about her; she then rose up in the bed and asked\nto be dressed, with the same freedom and recollection as if she had\nawaked out of a sound sleep. Her women presently informed her, in a\nmanner that showed their joy, that she was obliged to the three\nprinces her cousins, and particularly to prince Ahmed, for the\nsudden recovery of her health. She immediately expressed her joy to\nsee them, and thanked them altogether, and afterwards prince Ahmed\nin particular. As she desired to dress, the princes contented\nthemselves with telling her how great a pleasure it was to them, to\nhave come soon enough to contribute each in any degree towards\nrelieving her out of the immediate danger she was in, and what\nardent prayers they had offered for the continuance of her life, and\nafterwards they retired.\n\nWhilst the princess was dressing, the princes went to throw\nthemselves at the sultan their father\u2019s feet, and pay their\nrespects to him; but when they came before him, they found he had\nbeen previously informed of their unexpected arrival by the chief of\nthe princess\u2019s eunuchs, and by what means, used by them, the\nprincess had been perfectly cured. The sultan received and embraced\nthem with the greatest joy, both for their return and the wonderful\nrecovery of the princess his niece, whom he loved as if she had been\nhis own daughter, and who had been given over by the physicians.\nAfter the usual compliments, the princes presented each the rarity\nwhich he had brought: prince Houssain his carpet, which he had taken\ncare not to leave behind him in the princess\u2019s chamber; prince Ali\nhis ivory tube, and prince Ahmed the artificial apple; and after\neach had commended his present, when they put it into the sultan\u2019s\nhands, they begged of him to pronounce their fate, and declare to\nwhich of them he would give the princess Nouronnihar for a wife,\naccording to his promise.\n\nThe sultan of the Indies having kindly heard all that the princes\nhad to say in favour of their rarities, without interrupting them,\nand being well informed of what had happened in relation to the\nprincess Nouronnihar\u2019s cure, remained some time silent, as if he\nwas thinking on what answer he should make. At last he broke\nsilence, and said to them, in terms full of wisdom, I would declare\nfor one of you, my children, with a great deal of pleasure, if I\ncould do it with justice; but consider whether I can. It is true,\nprince Ahmed, the princess my niece is obliged to your artificial\napple for her cure; but let me ask you, whether you could have been\nso serviceable to her, if you had not known by prince Ali\u2019s tube\nthe danger she was in, and if prince Houssain\u2019s carpet had not\nbrought you to her so soon? Your tube, prince Ali, informed you and\nyour brothers that you were likely to lose the princess your cousin,\nand so far she is greatly obliged to you.\n\nYou must also grant that that knowledge would have been of no\nservice without the artificial apple and the carpet. And for you,\nprince Houssain, the princess would be very ungrateful, if she\nshould not show her sense of the serviceableness of your carpet,\nwhich was as necessary a means towards producing a cure. But\nconsider, it would have been of little use, if you had not been\nacquainted with the princess\u2019s illness by prince Ali\u2019s tube, and\nprince Ahmed had not applied his artificial apple. Therefore, as\nneither the carpet, the ivory tube, nor the artificial apple, have\nthe least preference one before the other, but, on the contrary,\nthere is a perfect equality, I cannot grant the princess to any one\nof you; and the only fruit you have reaped from your travels is the\nglory of having equally contributed to restore her to health.\n\nIf this be true, added the sultan, you see that I must have recourse\nto other means to determine me with certainty in the choice I ought\nto make among you; and as there is time enough between this and\nnight, I will do it to-day. Go, and get each of you a bow and arrow,\nand repair to the great plain out of the city, where the horses are\nexercised. I will soon come to you; and I declare I will give the\nprincess Nouronnihar to him that shoots the farthest.\n\nI do not, however, forget to thank you all in general, and each in\nparticular, for the present you brought me. I have a great many\nrarities in my closet already, but nothing that comes up to the\nsingularity of the carpet, the ivory tube, and the artificial apple,\nwhich shall have the first places among them, and shall be preserved\ncarefully, not only for pure curiosity, but to make an advantageous\nuse of them upon all occasions.\n\nThe three princes had nothing to say against the decision of the\nsultan. When they were out of his presence, they each provided\nthemselves with a bow and arrow, which they delivered to one of\ntheir officers, and went to the plain appointed, followed by a great\nconcourse of people.\n\nThe sultan did not make them wait long for him; and as soon as he\narrived, prince Houssain, as the eldest, took his bow and arrow, and\nshot first. Prince Ali shot next and much beyond him; and prince\nAhmed last of all: but it so happened, that nobody could see where\nhis arrow fell; and notwithstanding all the diligence that was used\nby himself and every body else, it was not to be found far or near.\nAnd though it was believed that he shot the farthest, and that he\ntherefore deserved the princess Nouronnihar, it was however\nnecessary that his arrow should be found, to make the matter more\nevident and certain; and, notwithstanding his remonstrances, the\nsultan determined in favour of prince Ali, and gave orders for\npreparations to be made for the solemnizing of the nuptials, which\nwere celebrated a few days after with great magnificence.\n\nPrince Houssain would not honour the feast with his presence; his\npassion for the Princess Nouronnihar was so sincere and lively, that\nhe could scarce support with patience the mortification of seeing\nthe princess in the arms of prince Ali, who, he said, did not\ndeserve her better, nor loved her more, than himself. In short, his\ngrief was so violent and insupportable, that he left the court, and\nrenounced all right of succession to the crown, to turn dervise, and\nput himself under the discipline of a famous scheik, who had gained\na reputation for his exemplary life, and had taken up his abode, and\nthat of his disciples, whose number was great, in an agreeable\nsolitude.\n\nPrince Ahmed, urged by the same motive, did not assist at prince Ali\nand the princess Nouronnihar\u2019s nuptials, any more than his brother\nHoussain, but did not renounce the world as he had done. But as he\ncould not imagine what could become of his arrow, he stole away from\nhis attendants, and resolved to search after it, that he might not\nhave any thing to reproach himself with. With this intent, he went\nto the place where the princes Houssain and Ali\u2019s were gathered\nup, and going straight forward from thence, looked carefully on both\nsides of him. He went so far, that at last he began to think his\nlabour was in vain; yet he could not help going forwards, till he\ncame to some steep craggy rocks, which would have obliged him to\nreturn, had he been ever so desirous to proceed. They were situated\nin a barren country, about four leagues distant from whence he set\nout.\n\nWhen prince Ahmed came nigh to these rocks, he perceived an arrow,\nwhich he gathered up, looked earnestly at it, and was in the\ngreatest astonishment to find it was the same he shot. Certainly,\nsaid he to himself, neither I, nor any man living, could shoot an\narrow so far; and finding it laid flat, not sticking into the\nground, he judged that it had rebounded from the rock. There must be\nsome mystery in this, said he to himself again, and it may be to my\nadvantage. Perhaps fortune, to make me amends for depriving me of\nwhat I thought the greatest happiness of my life, may have reserved\na greater blessing for my comfort.\n\nAs these rocks were full of sharp points and indentures between\nthem, the prince, full of these thoughts, entered into one of the\ncavities, and looking about, cast his eyes on an iron door, which\nseemed to have no lock. He feared it was fastened: but pushing\nagainst it, it opened, and discovered an easy descent, but no steps,\nwhich he walked down with his arrow in his hand. At first he thought\nhe was going into a dark place, but presently a quite different\nlight succeeded that which he came out of; and entering into a\nspacious square, at about fifty or sixty paces distant, he perceived\na magnificent palace, the admirable structure of which he had not\ntime to look at: for at the same time, a lady of majestic port and\nair, and of a beauty to which the richness of her clothes and the\njewels which adorned her person, added no advantage, advanced as far\nas the porch, attended by a troop of ladies, of whom it was\ndifficult to distinguish which was the mistress.\n\nAs soon as prince Ahmed perceived the lady, he hastened to pay his\nrespects; and the lady on her part, seeing him coming, prevented\nhim. Addressing her discourse to him first, and raising her voice,\nshe said to him, Come near, prince Ahmed; you are welcome.\n\nIt was no small surprise to the prince to hear himself named in a\npalace he had never heard of, though so nigh to his father\u2019s\ncapital, and he could not comprehend how he should be known to a\nlady who was a stranger to him. At last he returned the lady\u2019s\ncompliment, by throwing himself at her feet, and rising up again,\nsaid to her, Madam, I return you a thousand thanks for the assurance\nyou give me of a welcome to a place where I had reason to believe my\nimprudent curiosity had made me penetrate too far. But, madam, may\nI, without being guilty of rudeness, presume to ask you by what\nadventure you know me? and that you, who live in the same\nneighbourhood with me, should be so little known by me? Prince, said\nthe lady, let us go into the hall; there I will gratify you in your\nrequest more commodiously for us both.\n\nAfter these words, the lady led prince Ahmed into the hall, the\nnoble structure of which, and the gold and azure which embellished\nthe dome, and the inestimable richness of the furniture, appeared so\ngreat a novelty to him, that he could not enough express his\nadmiration, by crying out that he had never in his life beheld any\nthing like it, and believed that nothing was to be compared to it. I\ncan assure you, replied the lady, that this is but a small part of\nmy palace, and you will say so when you have seen all the\napartments. Then she sat down on a sofa; and when the prince at her\nentreaty had seated himself by her, she said, You are surprised, you\nsay, that I should know you, and not be known by you; but you will\nbe no longer surprised when I inform you who I am. You cannot be\nignorant that your religion teaches you to believe that the world is\ninhabited by genies as well as men: I am the daughter of one of the\nmost powerful and distinguished of these genies, and my name is Pari\nBanou; therefore you ought not to wonder that I know you, the sultan\nyour father, the princes your brothers, and the princess\nNouronnihar. I am no stranger to your loves or your travels, of\nwhich I could tell you all the circumstances, since it was I myself\nwho exposed to sale the artificial apple which you bought at\nSamarcande, the carpet which prince Houssain met with at Bisnagar,\nand the tube which prince Ali brought from Schiraz. This is\nsufficient to let you know that I am not unacquainted with any thing\nthat relates to you. The only thing I have to add is, that you\nseemed to me worthy of a more happy fate than that of possessing the\nprincess Nouronnihar; and that you might attain to it, I was present\nwhen you drew your arrow, and foresaw it would not go beyond prince\nHoussain\u2019s. I took it in the air, and gave it the necessary\nmotion, to strike against the rocks near which you found it. It is\nin your power to avail yourself of the favourable opportunity which\nit presents to make you happy.\n\nAs the fairy Pari Banou pronounced these last words with a different\ntone, and looked at the same time tenderly upon prince Ahmed, with\ndowncast eyes and a modest blush on her cheeks, it was not difficult\nfor the prince to comprehend what happiness she meant. He presently\nconsidered that the princess Nouronnihar could never be his, and\nthat the fairy Pari Banou excelled her infinitely in beauty,\nattractions, agreeableness, transcendant wit, and, as far as he\ncould conjecture by the magnificence of the palace where she\nresided, in immense riches. He blessed the moment that he thought of\nseeking after his arrow a second time, and yielding to his\ninclination, which drew him towards the new object which had fired\nhis heart, Madam, replied he, should I, all my life, have had the\nhappiness of being your slave, and the admirer of the many charms\nwhich ravish my soul, I should think myself the happiest of men.\nPardon me the boldness which inspires me to ask this favour, and do\nnot refuse to admit into your court a prince who is entirely devoted\nto you.\n\nPrince, answered the fairy, as I have been a long time my own\nmistress, and have no dependence on my parents\u2019 consent, it is not\nas a slave that I would admit you into my court, but as master of my\nperson, and all that belongs to me, by pledging your faith to me,\nand taking me to be your wife. I hope you will not take it amiss\nthat I anticipate you in making this proposal. I am, as I said,\nmistress of my will; and must add, that the same customs are not\nobserved among fairies as among other ladies, in whom it would not\nhave been decent to have made such advances: but it is what we do,\nand we suppose we confer obligation by it.\n\nPrince Ahmed made no answer to this discourse, but was so penetrated\nwith gratitude, that he thought he could not express it better than\nby coming to kiss the hem of her garment; which she would not give\nhim time to do, but presented her hand, which he kissed a thousand\ntimes, and kept fast locked in his. Well, prince Ahmed, said she,\nwill you not pledge your faith to me, as I do mine to you? Yes,\nmadam, replied the prince, in an ecstasy of joy, what can I do\nbetter, and with greater pleasure? Yes, my sultaness, my queen, I\nwill give it you with my heart, without the least reserve. Then,\nanswered the fairy, you are my husband, and I am your wife. Our\nmarriages are contracted with no other ceremonies, and yet are more\nfirm and indissoluble than those among men with all their\nformalities. But as I suppose, pursued she, that you have eaten\nnothing to-day, a slight repast shall be served up for you while\npreparations are making for our nuptial feast this evening, and then\nI will show you the apartments of my palace, and you shall judge if\nthis hall is not the smallest part of it.\n\nSome of the fairy\u2019s women who came into the hall with them, and\nguessed her intentions, went immediately out, and returned presently\nwith some excellent meats and wines.\n\nWhen prince Ahmed had eaten and drank as much as he cared for, the\nfairy Pari Banou carried him through all the apartments, where he\nsaw diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and all sorts of fine jewels,\nintermixed with pearls, agate, jasper, porphyry, and all kinds of\nthe most precious marbles; not to mention the richness of the\nfurniture, which was inestimable; the whole disposed with such\nprofusion, that the prince, instead of ever having seen any thing\nlike it, acknowledged that there could not be any thing in the world\nthat could come up to it. Prince, said the fairy, if you admire my\npalace so much, which is indeed very beautiful, what would you say\nto the palaces of the chief of our genies, which are much more\nbeautiful, spacious, and magnificent? I could also charm you with my\ngarden; but we will leave that till another time. Night draws near,\nand it will be time to go to supper.\n\nThe next hall which the fairy led the prince into, and where the\ncloth was laid for the feast, was the only apartment the prince had\nnot seen, and it was not in the least inferior to the others. At his\nentrance into it, he admired the infinite number of wax candles\nperfumed with amber, the multitude of which, instead of being\nconfused, were placed with so just symmetry, as formed an agreeable\nand pleasant sight. A large beaufet was set out with all sorts of\ngold plate, so finely wrought, that the workmanship was much more\nvaluable than the weight of the gold. Several chorusses of beautiful\nwomen richly dressed, and whose voices were ravishing, began a\nconcert, accompanied with all kinds of the most harmonious\ninstruments he had ever heard. When they were set down to table, the\nfairy Pari Banou took care to help prince Ahmed to the most\ndelicious meats, which she named as she invited him to eat of them,\nand which the prince had never heard of, but found so exquisite and\nnice, that he commended them in the highest terms, crying, that the\nentertainment which she gave him far surpassed those among men. He\nfound also the same excellence in the wines, which neither he nor\nthe fairy tasted of till the dessert was served up, which consisted\nof the choicest sweetmeats and fruits.\n\nAfter the dessert, the fairy Pari Banou and prince Ahmed rose from\nthe table, which was immediately carried away, and sat on a sofa, at\ntheir ease, with cushions of fine silk, curiously embroidered with\nall sorts of large flowers, laid at their backs. Presently after a\ngreat number of genies and fairies danced before them to the door of\nthe chamber where the nuptial bed was made; and when they came\nthere, they divided themselves into two rows, to let them pass, and\nafter that retired, leaving them to go to bed.\n\nThe nuptial feast was continued the next day; or rather the days\nfollowing the celebration were a continual feast, which the fairy\nPari Banou, who could do it with the utmost ease, knew how to\ndiversify, by new dishes, new meats, new concerts, new dances, new\nshows, and new diversions; which were all so extraordinary, that\nprince Ahmed, if he had lived a thousand years among men, could not\nhave imagined.\n\nThe fairy\u2019s intention was not only to give the prince essential\nproofs of the sincerity of her love, and the violence of her\npassion, by so many ways; but to let him see, that as he had no\npretensions at his father\u2019s court, he could meet with nothing\ncomparable to the happiness he enjoyed with her, independent of her\nbeauty and her charms, and to attach him entirely to herself, that\nhe might never leave her. In this scheme she succeeded so well, that\nprince Ahmed\u2019s passion was not in the least diminished by\npossession; but increased so much, that if he had been so inclined,\nit was not in his power to forbear loving her.\n\nAt the end of six months prince Ahmed, who always loved and honoured\nthe sultan his father, conceived a great desire to know how he did;\nand as that desire could not be satisfied without his absenting\nhimself to go and hear it in person, he mentioned it to the fairy,\nand desired she would give him leave.\n\nThis discourse alarmed the fairy, and made her fear it was only an\nexcuse to leave her. She said to him, What disgust can I have given\nyou to oblige you to ask me this leave? Is it possible you should\nhave forgotten that you have pledged your faith to me, and that you\nno longer love one who is so passionately fond of you? Are not the\nproofs I have repeatedly given you of my affection sufficient?\n\nMy queen, replied the prince, I am perfectly convinced of your love,\nand should be unworthy of it, if I did not testify my gratitude by a\nreciprocal love. If you are offended at the leave I asked, I entreat\nyou to forgive me, and I will make all the reparation I am capable\nof. I did not do it with any intention of displeasing you, but from\na motive of respect towards my father, whom I wish to free from the\naffliction my so long absence must have overwhelmed him in; which\nmust be the greater, as I have reason to presume he believes that I\nam dead. But since you do not consent that I should go and afford\nhim that comfort, I will do what you will, and there is nothing in\nthe world that I am not ready to do to please you.\n\nPrince Ahmed, who did not dissemble, and loved her in his heart as\nmuch as he had assured her by these words, no longer insisted on the\nleave he had asked; and the fairy expressed her satisfaction\nthereat. But as he could not absolutely abandon the design he had\nformed to himself, he frequently took an opportunity to speak to her\nof the great qualifications of the sultan his father; and above all,\nof his particular tenderness towards him, in hopes he might at\nlength be able to move her.\n\nAs prince Ahmed supposed, the sultan of the Indies, in the midst of\nthe rejoicings on account of prince Ali\u2019s and princess\nNouronnihar\u2019s nuptials, was sensibly afflicted at the absence of\nthe other two princes his sons, though it was not long before he was\ninformed of the resolution prince Houssain had taken to forsake the\nworld, and the place he had made choice of for his retreat. As a\ngood father, whose happiness consists in seeing his children about\nhim, especially when they are deserving of his tenderness, he would\nhave been better pleased had he stayed at his court, about his\nperson; but as he could not disapprove of his choice of the state of\nperfection in which he had engaged, he supported his absence more\npatiently. He made the most diligent search after prince Ahmed, and\ndespatched couriers to all the provinces of his dominions, with\norders to the governors to stop him, and oblige him to return to\ncourt; but all the pains he took had not the desired success, and\nhis trouble, instead of diminishing, increased. He would often talk\nwith his grand vizier about it; and say to him, Vizier, thou knowest\nI always loved Ahmed the best of all my sons; and thou art not\ninsensible of the means I have used to find him out, without\nsuccess. My grief is so lively, I shall sink under it, if thou hast\nnot compassion on me; if thou hast any regard for the preservation\nof my life, I conjure thee to assist and advise me.\n\nThe grand vizier, no less attached to the person of the sultan, than\nzealous to acquit himself well of the administration of the affairs\nof state, considering how to give his sovereign some ease, bethought\nhimself of a sorceress, of whom he had heard wonders, and proposed\nto send for her to consult her. The sultan consented, and the grand\nvizier, after he had sent for her, introduced her to him himself.\n\nThe sultan said to the magician, The affliction I have been in since\nthe marriage of my son prince Ali to the princess Nouronnihar, my\nniece, on account of the absence of prince Ahmed, is so well known,\nand so public, that undoubtedly thou canst be no stranger to it. By\nthy art and skill canst thou tell me what is become of him? If he is\nalive, where he is? What he is doing, and if I may hope ever to see\nhim again? To this the sorceress made answer, It is impossible, sir,\nfor me, though ever so skilful in my profession, to answer\nimmediately the questions your majesty asks me; but if you allow\ntill to-morrow, I will give an answer. The sultan granted her the\ntime, and sent her away, with a promise to recompense her well, if\nher answer proved according to his desire.\n\nThe magician returned the next day, and the grand vizier presented\nher a second time to the sultan. Sir, said she, notwithstanding all\nthe diligence I have used in applying the rules of my art, to obey\nyour majesty in what you desire to know, I have not been able to\ndiscover any thing more than that prince Ahmed is alive. This is\nvery certain, and you may depend on it; but as to the place where he\nis I cannot find it out.\n\nThe sultan of the Indies was obliged to be satisfied with this\nanswer; which left him in the same uneasiness as before as to the\nprince\u2019s fate.\n\nTo return to prince Ahmed. He so often entertained the fairy Pari\nBanou with talking about the sultan his father, without speaking any\nmore of his desire to see him, that she fully comprehended what he\nmeant; and perceiving this restraint he put upon himself, and his\nfear of displeasing her after her first refusal, she first inferred\nthat his love for her was, by the repeated proofs he had given her,\nsincere; and then judging by herself the injustice she was guilty of\nin opposing a son\u2019s tenderness for his father, and endeavouring to\nmake him renounce that natural inclination, she resolved to grant\nhim the leave which she saw he always so ardently desired. One day\nshe said to him, Prince, the leave you have asked me to go and see\nthe sultan your father, gave me a just fear that it was only a\npretext to show your inconstancy, and to leave me, and that was the\nsole motive for my refusing you; but now I am so fully convinced by\nyour actions and words, that I can depend on your constancy, and the\nsteadiness of your love. I change my resolution, and grant you that\nleave, upon condition that you will swear to me first, that your\nabsence shall not be long. You ought not to be concerned at this\ncondition, as if I asked it out of distrust. I do it only because I\nknow that it will give you no uneasiness, convinced as I am, as I\nhave already told you, of the sincerity of your love.\n\nPrince Ahmed would have thrown himself at the fairy\u2019s feet, to\nshow his gratitude, but she prevented him. My sultaness, said he, I\nam sensible of the great favour you grant me, but want words to\nreturn the thanks I wish. Supply this defect, I conjure you, and\nwhatever you can suggest to yourself, be persuaded I think much\nmore. You may believe that the oath will give me no uneasiness, and\nI take it more willingly, since it is not possible for me to live\nwithout you. I go, but the haste I shall make to return shall show\nyou, that it is not for fear of being foresworn, but that I follow\nmy inclination, which is to live with you for ever; and if I am\nabsent some time with your consent, I shall always avoid the trouble\na too long absence will create me.\n\nPari Banou was the more charmed with these sentiments of prince\nAhmed, because they removed the suspicions she had entertained of\nhim, fearing that his earnest desire to go to see the sultan his\nfather was only a pretext to break his faith with her. --Prince,\nsaid she, go when you please; but first do not take it amiss that I\ngive you some advice how you shall behave yourself where you are\ngoing. First, I do not think it proper for you to tell the sultan\nyour father of our marriage, nor of my quality, nor the place where\nyou are settled. Beg of him to be satisfied with knowing you are\nhappy, and that you desire no more; and let him know that the sole\nend of your visit is to make him easy about your fate.\n\nShe appointed twenty horsemen, well mounted and equipped, to attend\nhim. --When all was ready, prince Ahmed took his leave of the fairy,\nembraced her, and renewed his promise to return soon. Then his\nhorse, which was most finely caparisoned, and was as beautiful a\ncreature as any in the sultan of the Indies\u2019 stables, was brought\nto him, and he mounted him with an extraordinary grace, with great\npleasure to the fairy; and after he had bid her adieu, set forward\non his journey.\n\nAs it was not a great way to his father\u2019s capital, prince Ahmed\nsoon arrived there. The people, glad to see him again, received him\nwith acclamations of joy, and followed him in crowds to the\nsultan\u2019s apartment. --The sultan received and embraced him with\ngreat joy; complaining at the same time, with a fatherly tenderness,\nof the affliction his long absence had been to him, which he said\nwas the more grievous, for that fortune having decided in favour of\nprince Ali his brother, he was afraid he might have committed some\nact of despair.\n\nSir, replied prince Ahmed, I leave it to your majesty to consider,\nif, after having lost the princess Nouronnihar, who was the only\nobject of my desires, I could resolve to be a witness of prince\nAli\u2019s happiness. If I had been capable of so unworthy an action,\nwhat would the court and city have thought of my love, or what your\nmajesty? Love is a passion we cannot throw off when we will; it\nrules and governs us, and will not give a true lover time to make\nuse of his reason. --Your majesty knows, that when I shot my arrow,\nthe most extraordinary thing that ever befell any body happened to\nme, that in so large and level a plain as that where the horses are\nexercised, it should not be possible to find my arrow. I lost the\ncause, the justice of which was as much due to my love as to that of\nthe princes my brothers. --Though thus vanquished by the caprice of\nfate, I lost no time in vain complaints; but, to satisfy my\nperplexed mind, in the adventure which I could not comprehend, I\ngave my attendants the slip, and returned back again alone to look\nfor my arrow. I sought all about the place where prince Houssain\u2019s\nand prince Ali\u2019s arrows were found, and where I imagined mine must\nhave fallen; but all my labour was in vain. I was not discouraged,\nbut continued my search on the same ground in a direct line, and\nlooked carefully about where I could guess it might have fallen; and\nafter this manner had gone above a league, without being able to\nmeet with any thing like an arrow, when I reflected that it was not\npossible that mine should fly so far. I stopped, and asked myself\nwhether I was in my right senses, to flatter myself with having\nstrength enough to shoot an arrow so much farther than any of the\ngreatest heroes in the world were able to do. After I had argued\nthus with myself, I was ready to abandon my enterprise; but when I\nwas on the point of putting my resolution in execution, I found\nmyself drawn forward almost against my will; and after having gone\nfour leagues to that part of the plain where it is bounded by rocks,\nI perceived an arrow. I ran and took it up, and knew it to be the\nsame which I had shot, but which had not been found in the time or\nplace that it should have been. Far from thinking your majesty had\ndone me any injustice in declaring for my brother prince Ali, I\ninterpreted what had happened to me quite otherwise, and never\ndoubted but there was a mystery in it to my advantage; the discovery\nof which I ought not to neglect, and which I found out without going\nfarther from the spot. But as to this mystery, I beg your majesty\nwill not take it ill that I am silent, and that you will be\nsatisfied to know from my own mouth that I am happy, and content\nwith my fate.\n\nIn the midst of all my happiness, the only thing that troubled me,\nor was capable of disturbing me, was the uneasiness I feared your\nmajesty was in, upon account of my leaving the court, and your not\nknowing what was become of me. I thought it my duty to satisfy you\nin this point. This was the only motive which brought me hither; the\nonly favour I ask of your majesty is to give me leave to come often\nand pay you my respects, and inquire after your health.\n\nSon, answered the sultan of the Indies, I cannot refuse you the\nleave you ask me, but, I should much rather you would resolve to\nstay with me. At least, tell me were I may hear of you, if you\nshould fail to come, or when I may think your presence necessary.\nSir, replied prince Ahmed, what your majesty asks of me is part of\nthe mystery I spoke to your majesty of. I beg of you to give me\nleave to remain silent on this head; for I shall come so frequently\nwhere my duty calls, that I am afraid I shall sooner be thought\ntroublesome, than be accused of negligence in my duty, when my\npresence may be necessary.\n\nThe sultan of the Indies pressed prince Ahmed no more, but said to\nhim, Son, I penetrate no farther into your secrets, but leave you at\nyour liberty. I can only tell you, that you could not do me a\ngreater pleasure than to come, and, by your presence, restore to me\nthe joy I have not felt for a long time; and that you shall always\nbe welcome when you come, without interrupting your business or your\npleasure.\n\nPrince Ahmed stayed but three days at the sultan his father\u2019s\ncourt, and the fourth returned to the fairy Pari Banou, who received\nhim with the greater joy, as she did not expect him so soon. His\ndiligence made her condemn herself for suspecting his want of\nfidelity. She never dissembled in the least, but frankly owned her\nweakness to the prince, and asked his pardon. So perfect was the\nunion of these two lovers, that they had but one will between them.\n\nA month after prince Ahmed\u2019s return from paying a visit to his\nfather, as the fairy Pari Banou had observed, that since the time\nthat the prince gave her an account of his journey, and his\nconversation with his father, in which he asked his leave to come\nand see him from time to time, he had never spoken of the sultan, as\nif there had been no such person in the world, whereas before he was\nalways speaking of him, she thought he forbore on her account; and\ntherefore took an opportunity to say to him one day, Tell me,\nprince, have you forgotten the sultan your father? Do not you\nremember the promise you made to go and see him from time to time?\nFor my part, I have not forgotten what you told me at your return,\nand put you in mind of it, that you may not be long before you\nacquit yourself of your promise for the first time.\n\nMadam, replied prince Ahmed, with the same lively tone as the fairy\nspoke to him, as I know I am not guilty of the forgetfulness you\nspeak of, I rather choose to be thus reproached, however\nundeservedly, than expose myself to a refusal, by showing\nunseasonably a desire for what it might have given you pain to\ngrant. Prince, said the fairy, I would not have you in this affair\nhave so much consideration for me, since it is a month since you\nhave seen the sultan your father. I think you should not be longer\nthan a month before you renew your visits. Pay him another visit\nto-morrow, and after that, go and see him once a month, without\nspeaking to me, or waiting for my leave. I readily consent.\n\nPrince Ahmed went the next morning with the same attendants as\nbefore, but much finer, and himself more magnificently mounted,\nequipped, and dressed, and was received by the sultan with the same\njoy and satisfaction. For several months he constantly paid him\nvisits, and always in a richer and more brilliant equipage.\n\nAt last some viziers, the sultan\u2019s favourites, who judged of\nprince Ahmed\u2019s grandeur and power by the figure he made, abused\nthe liberty the sultan gave them of speaking to him, to make him\njealous of his son. They represented to him that it was but common\nprudence to know where the prince had retired, and how he could\nafford to live at such a rate, since he had no revenue nor income\nassigned him, and that he seemed to come to court only to brave him,\nby affecting to show that he wanted nothing of him to live like a\nprince, and that it was to be feared he might stir up the people\u2019s\nfavour, and dethrone him.\n\nThe sultan of the Indies was so far from thinking that prince Ahmed\ncould be capable of so wicked a design, as his favourites would make\nhim believe, that he said to them, You are mistaken; my son loves\nme, and I am the more assured of his tenderness and fidelity, as I\nhave given him no reason to be disgusted.\n\nUpon these last words, one of the favourites took an opportunity to\nsay, Your majesty, in the opinion of the most sensible people, could\nnot have taken a better method than what you have done with the\nthree princes, respecting their marriage with the princess\nNouronnihar; but who knows whether prince Ahmed has submitted to his\nfate with the same resignation as prince Houssain? May not he\nimagine that he alone deserved her, and that your majesty, by\nleaving that matter to be decided by chance, has done him injustice?\n\nYour majesty may say, added the malicious favourite, that prince\nAhmed has given no sign of dissatisfaction; that our fears are vain;\nthat we are too easily alarmed, and are to blame to suggest to you\nsuspicions of this sort, which may, perhaps, be unfounded, against a\nprince of your blood. But, sir, pursued the favourite, it may be\nalso these suspicions may be well grounded. Your majesty is\nsensible, that in so nice and important an affair, you cannot be too\nmuch upon your guard, and should take the safest course. Consider,\nit is the prince\u2019s business to dissemble, amuse, and deceive you;\nand the danger is the greater, as the prince resides not far from\nyour capital; and if your majesty give but the same attention that\nwe do, you may observe that every time he comes, he and his\nattendants are fresh, and their clothes and their horses\u2019 housings\nare clean and bright, as if they were come from the maker\u2019s hands,\nand their horses look as if they had only been walked out. These are\nsufficient signs that prince Ahmed does not come a great way; so\nthat we should think ourselves wanting in our duty if we did not\nmake our humble remonstrances, that, for your own preservation and\nthe good of your people, you might take such measures as you shall\nthink fit.\n\nWhen the favourite had made an end of this long speech, the sultan\nsaid, Be it as it will, I do not believe my son Ahmed is so wicked\nas you would persuade me he is; however, I am obliged to you for\nyour good advice, and do not doubt that it proceeds from a good\nintention.\n\nThe sultan of the Indies said this, that his favourites might not\nknow the impressions their discourse had made on his mind. He was,\nhowever, so much alarmed by it, that he resolved to have prince\nAhmed watched, unknown to his grand vizier. For this end, he sent\nfor the female magician, who was introduced by a private door into\nhis closet. You told me the truth, said he, when you assured me my\nson Ahmed was alive, for which I am obliged to you. You must do me\nanother pleasure. I have seen him since, and he comes to my court\nevery month; but I cannot learn from him where he resides, and I did\nnot wish to force his secret out of him, but believe you are capable\nof satisfying my curiosity, without letting him, or any of my court,\nknow any thing of the matter. You know that at this present time he\nis here with me, and is used to go away without taking leave of me,\nor any of my court. Go immediately upon the road, and watch him so\nwell, as to find out where he retires, and bring me word.\n\nThe magician left the sultan, and knowing the place where prince\nAhmed found his arrow, went immediately thither, and hid herself\nnear the rocks, so that nobody could see her.\n\nThe next morning prince Ahmed set out by day-break, without taking\nleave either of the sultan or any of his court, according to custom.\nThe magician seeing him coming, followed him with her eyes, till on\na sudden she lost sight of him and his attendants.\n\nThe steepness of the rocks formed an insurmountable barrier to men,\nwhether on horseback or on foot, so that the magician judged that\nthere were but two ways; either that the prince retired into some\ncavern, or into some place under ground, the abode of genies or\nfairies. When she thought the prince and his attendants were out of\nsight, and returned into the cavern or subterraneous place she\nimagined, she came out of the place where she had hid herself, and\nwent directly to the hollow way where she had seen them go in. She\nentered it, going and returning several times, and proceeding to the\nspot where it terminated in many windings, looking carefully about\non all sides. But notwithstanding all her diligence, she could\nperceive no opening, nor the iron gate which prince Ahmed\ndiscovered: for this door was to be seen by and opened to none but\nmen, and only to such men whose presence was agreeable to the fairy\nPari Banou, and not at all to women.\n\nThe magician, who saw it was in vain for her to search any farther,\nwas obliged to be satisfied with the discovery she had made, and\nreturned to give the sultan an account. When she had told him what\nshe had done, she added, Your majesty may easily understand, after\nwhat I have had the honour to tell you, it will be no difficult\nmatter to give you the satisfaction you desire concerning prince\nAhmed\u2019s conduct. I will not tell you now what I think, but choose\nto let you know in a way that will not suffer you to doubt of it. To\ndo this, I only ask time, and that you will have patience, and give\nme leave to do it, without inquiring what measures I design to take.\n\nThe sultan was very well pleased with the magician\u2019s conduct, and\nsaid to her, Do you as you think fit; I will wait patiently the\nevent of your promises. And to encourage her, he made her a present\nof a diamond of great value, telling her it was only an earnest of\nthe ample recompense she should receive when she had done him that\nimportant piece of service, which he left to her management.\n\nAs prince Ahmed, after he had obtained the fairy Pari Banou\u2019s\nleave to go to the sultan of the Indies\u2019 court, never failed once\na month, and the magician knowing the time, went a day or two before\nto the foot of the rock, where she lost sight of the prince and his\nattendants, and waited there with an intention to execute the\nproject she had formed.\n\nThe next morning prince Ahmed went out as usual at the iron gate,\nwith the same attendants as before, and passed by the magician, whom\nhe knew not to be such; and seeing her lie with her head upon the\nrock, and complaining as if she was in great pain, he pitied her,\nturned his horse about, and went to her, and asked her what was the\nmatter with her, and what he could do to relieve her.\n\nThe artful sorceress, without lifting up her head, looked at the\nprince in a manner to increase his compassion, already excited, and\nanswered in broken words and sighs, as if she could hardly fetch her\nbreath, that she was going to the city, but in the way thither was\ntaken with so violent a fever, that her strength failed her, and she\nwas forced to stop and lie down where he saw her, far from any\nhabitation, and without any hopes of assistance.\n\nGood woman, replied prince Ahmed, you are not so far from help as\nyou imagine. I am ready to assist you, and convey you where you\nshall not only have all possible care taken of you, but where you\nwill find a speedy cure; only get up, and let one of my people take\nyou behind him.\n\nAt these words, the magician, who pretended sickness only to know\nwhere the prince lived, what he did, and what was his situation, did\nnot refuse the charitable offer he made her so freely; and, to show\nher acceptance of it rather by her actions than by her words, she\nmade many affected efforts to get up, pretending that the violence\nof her illness prevented her. At the same time, two of the\nprince\u2019s attendants alighting off their horses, helped her up, and\nset her behind another. They mounted their horses again, and\nfollowed the prince, who turned back to the iron gate, which was\nopened by one of his retinue, who rode before. When he came into the\noutward court of the fairy\u2019s palace, without dismounting himself,\nhe sent to tell her he wanted to speak with her.\n\nThe fairy Pari Banou came with all imaginable haste, not knowing\nwhat made prince Ahmed return so soon; who, not giving her time to\nask him the reason, said, My princess, I desire you would have\ncompassion on this good woman, pointing to the magician, who was\ntaken off the horse by two of his retinue: I found her in the\ncondition you see her in, and promised her the assistance she stands\nin need of. I recommend her to your care, and am persuaded that you,\nfrom inclination, as well as at my request, will not abandon her.\n\nThe fairy Pari Banou, who had her eyes fixed upon the pretended sick\nwoman all the time that the prince was talking to her, ordered two\nof her women who followed her to take her from the two men that held\nher, and carry her into an apartment of the palace, and take as much\ncare of her as of herself.\n\nWhilst the two women executed the fairy\u2019s commands, she went up to\nprince Ahmed, and whispering him in the ear, said, Prince, I commend\nyour compassion, which is worthy of you and your birth. I take great\npleasure in gratifying your good intention; but give me leave to\ntell you, I am afraid it will be but ill rewarded. This woman is not\nso sick as she pretends to be; and I am very much mistaken if she is\nnot sent hither on purpose to occasion you great trouble. But do not\nbe concerned, let what will be devised against you; be persuaded\nthat I will deliver you out of all the snares that shall be laid for\nyou. Go and pursue your journey.\n\nThis discourse of the fairy\u2019s did not in the least alarm prince\nAhmed. My princess, said he, as I do not remember I ever did, or\ndesigned to do, any body an injury. I cannot believe any body can\nhave a thought of doing me one; but if they have, I shall not\nforbear doing good, whenever I have an opportunity. So saying, he\ntook leave of the fairy, and set forward again for his father\u2019s\ncapital, where he soon arrived, and was received as usual by the\nsultan, who constrained himself as much as possible, to disguise the\ntrouble arising from the suspicions suggested by his favourites.\n\nIn the mean time, the two women to whom the fairy Pari Banou had\ngiven her orders carried the magician into a very fine apartment,\nrichly furnished. First, they set her down upon a sofa, with her\nback supported with a cushion of gold brocade, while they made a bed\non the same sofa before her, the quilt of which was finely\nembroidered with silk, the sheets of the finest linen, and the\ncoverlid cloth of gold. When they had put her into bed, (for the old\nsorceress pretended that her fever was so violent, she could not\nhelp herself in the least,) one of the women went out, and returned\nsoon again with a china cup in her hand, full of a certain liquor,\nwhich she presented to the magician, while the other helped her to\nsit up. Drink this liquor, said she; it is the water of the fountain\nof lions, and a sovereign remedy against all fevers whatsoever. You\nwill find the effect of it in less than an hour\u2019s time.\n\nThe magician, to dissemble the better, took it, after a great deal\nof entreaty, as if she was very much averse to take that potion; but\nat last she took the china cup, and shaking her head as if she did\ngreat violence to herself, swallowed the liquor. When she was laid\ndown again, the two women covered her up. Lie quiet, said she who\nbrought her the china cup, and get a little sleep if you can: we\nwill leave you, and hope to find you perfectly cured when we come an\nhour hence.\n\nThe magician, who came not to act a sick part long, but only to\ndiscover prince Ahmed\u2019s retreat, and what made him leave his\nfather\u2019s court, being fully satisfied in what she wanted to know,\nwould willingly have declared that the potion had then had its\neffects, so great was her desire to return to the sultan, to inform\nhim of the success of her commission: but as she had been told that\nthe potion did not operate immediately, she was forced to wait the\nwomen\u2019s return.\n\nThe two women came again at the time they said they should, and\nfound the magician up and dressed, and seated on the sofa; who, when\nshe saw them open the door of the apartment, cried out, O the\nadmirable potion! it has wrought its cure much sooner than you told\nme it would, and I have waited a long time with impatience, to\ndesire you to carry me to your charitable mistress, to thank her for\nher kindness, for which I shall always be obliged to her, since\nbeing thus cured as by a miracle, I would not lose time, but\nprosecute my journey.\n\nThe two women, who were fairies as well as their mistress, after\nthey had told the magician how glad they were that she was cured so\nsoon, walked before her, and conducted her through several\napartments, all more superb than that wherein she lay, into a large\nhall, the most richly and magnificently furnished of all the palace.\n\nPari Banou was seated in this hall, on a throne of massy gold,\nenriched with diamonds, rubies, and pearls of an extraordinary size,\nand attended on each hand by a great number of beautiful fairies,\nall richly dressed. At the sight of so much majesty, the magician\nwas not only dazzled, but was so struck, that after she had\nprostrated herself before the throne, she could not open her lips to\nthank the fairy, as she proposed. However, Pari Banou saved her the\ntrouble, and said to her, Good woman, I am glad I had an opportunity\nto oblige you, and to see you are able to pursue your journey. I\nwill not detain you; but perhaps you may not be displeased to see my\npalace: follow my women, and they will show it you.\n\nThe old sorceress, who had not power nor courage to say a word,\nprostrated herself a second time, with her head on the carpet that\ncovered the foot of the throne, and so took her leave, and was\nconducted by the two fairies through all the same apartments which\nwere shown to prince Ahmed at his first arrival there, and at sight\nof their uncommon magnificence, she made frequent exclamations. But\nwhat surprised her most of all was, that the two fairies told her,\nthat all she saw and admired so much was a mere sketch of their\nmistress\u2019s grandeur and riches; and that in the extent of her\ndominions she had so many palaces that they could not tell the\nnumber of them, all of different plans and architecture, and equally\nmagnificent and superb. In talking of many other particulars, they\nled her at last to the iron gate at which prince Ahmed brought her\nin, and after she had taken her leave of them, and thanked them for\ntheir trouble, they opened it, and wished her a good journey.\n\nAfter the magician had gone a little way, she turned back again to\nobserve the door and know it again, but all in vain; for, as was\nbefore observed, it was invisible to her and all other women. Except\nin this circumstance, she was very well satisfied with executing the\ncommission she had undertaken, and posted away to the sultan. When\nshe came to the capital, she went by a great many by-ways to the\nprivate door of the palace. The sultan being informed of her\narrival, sent for her into his apartment, and perceiving a\nmelancholy hang upon her countenance, he thought she had not\nsucceeded, and said to her, By your looks I surmise that your\njourney has been to no purpose, and that you have not made the\ndiscovery I expected from your diligence. Sir, replied the magician,\nyour majesty must give me leave to represent to you, that you ought\nnot to judge by my looks whether or no I have acquitted myself well\nin the execution of the commands you were pleased to honour me with;\nbut by the faithful report I shall make you of all that has happened\nto me, and by which you will find that I have not neglected any\nthing that could render me worthy of your approbation. The\nmelancholy you observe in my face proceeds from another cause than\nthe want of success, which I hope your majesty will have all the\nreason in the world to be content with. I do not tell you the cause;\nthe relation I am going to give will, if you have patience, inform\nyou of it.\n\nThen the magician related to the sultan of the Indies how she\npretended to be sick, prince Ahmed compassionating her, had her\ncarried into a subterraneous abode, and presented and recommended\nher himself to a fairy of incomparable beauty, desiring her by her\ncare to restore her health. Then she told him with how much\ncondescension the fairy presently ordered two fairies that attended\nher, to take care of her, and not to leave her till she was\nrecovered; which great condescension, said she, could proceed from\nno other person but from a wife to a husband. Afterwards the old\nsorceress failed not to exaggerate on her surprise at the front of\nthe palace, which she said had not its fellow in the world, while\nthe two fairies held her by each arm, like a sick person, as she\nfeigned to be, that could not walk or support herself. She gave a\nparticular account of the care they took of her, after they had led\nher into another apartment; of the potion they made her drink, and\nof the quickness of her cure, which she pretended as well as her\nsickness, though she doubted not the virtue of the draught; the\nmajesty of the fairy seated on a throne, brilliant with jewels, the\nvalue of which exceeded all the riches of the kingdom of the Indies,\nand all the other riches, beyond computation, contained in that vast\npalace.\n\nHere the magician, finishing the relation of the success of her\ncommission, and continuing her discourse, said, What does your\nmajesty think of these unheard-of riches of the fairy? Perhaps you\nwill say, you are struck with admiration, and rejoice at the good\nfortune of prince Ahmed your son, who enjoys them in common with the\nfairy. For my part, sir, I beg of your majesty to forgive me, if I\ntake the liberty to remonstrate to you, that I think otherwise, and\nthat I shudder when I consider the misfortunes which may happen to\nyou from it. And this is the cause of the melancholy which I could\nnot so well dissemble, but that you soon perceived it. I would\nbelieve that prince Ahmed, by his own good disposition, is incapable\nof undertaking any thing against your majesty; but who can answer\nthat the fairy, by her attractions and caresses, and the influence\nshe has already over him, may not inspire him with a dangerous\ndesign of dethroning your majesty, and seizing the crown of the\nIndies? This is what your majesty ought to consider as a serious\naffair of the utmost importance.\n\nThough the sultan of the Indies was very well persuaded that prince\nAhmed\u2019s natural disposition was good, yet he could not help being\nmoved at the discourse of the old sorceress, and said, I thank you\nfor the pains you have taken, and your wholesome caution. I am so\nsensible of the great importance it is to me, that I shall take\nadvice upon it.\n\nHe was consulting with his favourites, when he was told of the\nmagician\u2019s arrival. He ordered her to follow him to them. He\nacquainted them with what he had learnt, and communicated to them\nalso the reason he had to fear the fairy\u2019s influence over the\nprince, and asked them what measures they thought most proper to be\ntaken to prevent so great a misfortune. One of the favourites,\ntaking upon himself to speak for the rest, said, Your majesty knows\nwho must be the author of this mischief. In order to prevent it, now\nhe is in your court, and in your power, you ought not to hesitate to\nput him under arrest; I will not say, take away his life, for that\nwould make too much noise; but make him a close prisoner while he\nlives. This advice all the other favourites unanimously applauded.\n\nThe magician, who thought it too violent, asked the sultan leave to\nspeak, which being granted, she said, Sir, I am persuaded the zeal\nof your counsellors for your majesty\u2019s interest makes them propose\narresting prince Ahmed: but they will not take it amiss if I offer\nto your and their consideration, that if you arrest the prince you\nmust also detain his retinue. But they are all genies. Do they think\nit will be so easy to surprise, seize, and secure their persons?\nWill they not disappear, by the property they possess of rendering\nthemselves invisible, and transport themselves instantly to the\nfairy, and give her an account of the insult offered her husband?\nAnd can it be supposed she will let it go unrevenged? But would it\nnot be better, if by any other means, which might not make so great\na noise, the sultan could secure himself against any ill designs\nprince Ahmed may have against him, and not involve his majesty\u2019s\nhonour, or any body suspect him of any ill design? If his majesty\nhas any confidence in my advice, as genies and fairies can do things\nimpracticable to men, he will pique prince Ahmed\u2019s honour, and\nengage him by means of the fairy to procure certain advantages,\nunder pretence of deriving a great return, --for which he will be\nobliged to him. For example, every time your majesty takes the\nfield, you are obliged to be at a great expense, not only in\npavilions and tents for yourself and army, but likewise in mules and\ncamels, and other beasts of burden, to carry their baggage. Might\nnot you engage him to use his interest with the fairy, to procure\nyou a tent which might be carried in a man\u2019s hand, and which\nshould be so large as to shelter your whole army.\n\nI need say no more to your majesty. If the prince brings such a\ntent, you may make a great many other demands of the same nature, so\nthat at last he may sink under the difficulties and the\nimpossibility of executing them, however fertile in means and\ninventions the fairy, who has enticed him from you by her\nenchantments, may be; so that in time he will be ashamed to appear,\nand will be forced to pass the rest of his life with his fairy,\nexcluded from any commerce with this world; and then your majesty\nwill have nothing to fear from him, and cannot be reproached with so\ndetestable an action as the shedding of a son\u2019s blood, or\nconfining him in a prison for life.\n\nWhen the magician had finished her speech, the sultan asked his\nfavourites if they had any thing better to propose; and finding them\nall silent, determined to follow the magician\u2019s advice, as the\nmost reasonable and most agreeable to his mild manner of government.\n\nThe next day, when the prince came into his father\u2019s presence, who\nwas talking with his favourites, and had sat down by him, after a\nconversation on different subjects, the sultan addressing himself to\nprince Ahmed, said, Son, when you came and dispelled those clouds of\nmelancholy which your long absence had brought upon me, you made the\nplace you had chosen for your retreat a mystery to me. I was\nsatisfied with seeing you again, and knowing that you was content\nwith your condition, and wished not to penetrate into your secret,\nwhich I found you did not care I should. I know not what reason you\nhad thus to treat a father, who ever did and still continues to\nexpress what interest he takes in your happiness. I know your good\nfortune. I rejoice with you, and very much approve of your conduct\nin marrying a fairy so worthy of your love, and so rich and\npowerful, as I am informed. Powerful as I am, it was not possible\nfor me to have procured so great a match for you. Now you are raised\nto so high a rank, as to be envied by every body, but a father like\nme, I not only desire you to preserve the good understanding we have\nlived in hitherto, but that you will use all your credit with your\nfairy to obtain for me her assistance, when I may want it. I\ntherefore will make a trial of your interest this day.\n\nYou are not insensible at what a great expense, not to say trouble\nto my generals, officers, and myself, every time I take the field,\nthey provide tents and pavilions, and mules and camels, and other\nbeasts of burden, to carry them. If you consider the pleasure you\nwould do me, I am persuaded you could easily procure from her a\npavilion that might be carried in a man\u2019s hand, and which would\nextend over my whole army; especially when you let her know it is\nfor me. Though it may be a difficult thing, she will not refuse you.\nAll the world, knows fairies are capable of doing most extraordinary\nthings.\n\nPrince Ahmed never expected that the sultan his father would have\nasked such a thing, which at first sight appeared to him so\ndifficult, not to say impossible. Though he knew not absolutely how\ngreat the power of genies and fairies was, he doubted whether it\nextended so far as to furnish such a tent as his father desired.\nMoreover he had never asked any thing like it of the fairy Pari\nBanou, but was satisfied with the continual proofs she had given him\nof her passion, that he forgot nothing to persuade her that his\nheart perfectly corresponded without any views of interest, beyond\nmaintaining himself in her good graces; therefore he was in the\ngreatest embarrassment what answer to make. At last, he replied, If,\nsir, I have concealed from your majesty what happened to me, and\nwhat course I took after the finding my arrow, the reason was, that\nI thought it was of no great importance to you to be informed of\nthem; and though I know not how this mystery has been revealed to\nyou, I cannot deny but your information is very just. I have married\nthe fairy you speak of. I love her, and am persuaded she loves me.\nBut I can say nothing as to the influence your majesty believes I\nhave over her. It is what I have not yet made an experiment of, nor\nthought of, and should be very glad you would dispense with my\nundertaking it, and let me enjoy the happiness of loving and being\nbeloved, with all the disinterestedness I proposed to myself. But\nthe demand of a father is a command upon every child, who, like me,\nthinks it his duty to obey him in every thing. And though it is with\nthe greatest reluctance imaginable, I will not fail to ask my wife\nthe favour your majesty desires, but will not promise you to obtain\nit; and if I should not have the honour to come again to pay you my\nrespects, that shall be the sign that I have not had success: but\nbeforehand, I desire you to forgive me, and consider that you\nyourself have reduced me to this extremity.\n\nSon, replied the sultan of the Indies, I should be very sorry that\nwhat I ask of you should give you reason to cause me the grief of\nnever seeing you more. I find you do not know the power a husband\nhas over a wife; and yours would show that her love to you was very\nindifferent, if she, with the power she has as a fairy, should\nrefuse you so trifling a request as this I desire you to ask of her\nfor my sake. Lay aside your fears, which proceed from your believing\nyourself not to be loved so well as you love her. Go; only ask her.\nYou will find the fairy loves you better than you imagine; and\nremember, that people, for want of asking, often lose great\nadvantages. Think with yourself, that as you love her, you could\nrefuse her nothing; therefore, if she loves you, she will not deny\nyour requests.\n\nAll this discourse of the sultan of the Indies could not persuade\nprince Ahmed, who would rather he would have asked any thing else,\nthan to expose him to the hazard of displeasing his dear Pari Banou;\nand so great was his vexation, that he left the court two days\nsooner than he used to do.\n\nWhen he returned, the fairy, to whom he always before appeared with\na gay countenance, asked him the cause of the alteration she\nperceived in his looks; and finding, that instead of answering her,\nhe inquired after her health, to avoid satisfying her, she said to\nhim, I will answer your question when you have answered mine. The\nprince declined it a long time, protesting that nothing was the\nmatter with him; but the more he denied it, the more she pressed\nhim, and said to him, I cannot bear to see you in this condition:\ntell me what makes you so uneasy, that I may remove the cause of it,\nwhatever it may be; for it must be very extraordinary if it is out\nof my power, unless it be the death of the sultan your father; in\nthat case, time, with all that I will contribute on my part, will\ncomfort you.\n\nPrince Ahmed could not long withstand the pressing instances of the\nfairy. Madam, said he, God prolong the sultan my father\u2019s life,\nand bless him to the end of his days. I left him alive, and in\nperfect health; therefore that is not the cause of the melancholy\nyou perceive in me. The sultan is the occasion of it, and I am the\nmore concerned, because he has imposed upon me the disagreeable\nnecessity of importuning you. First, you know the care I have taken,\nwith your approbation, to conceal from him the happiness I have to\nsee you, to love you, to deserve your favour and love, and to have\nreceived the pledge of your faith, after having pledged my faith\nwith you. How he has been informed of it I cannot tell.\n\nHere the fairy Pari Banou interrupted prince Ahmed, and said, But I\nknow. Remember what I told you of the woman who made you believe she\nwas sick, on whom you took so much compassion. It is she who has\nacquainted the sultan your father with what you have taken so much\ncare to hide from him. I told you she was no more sick than you or\nI, and she has made it appear so; for, in short, after the two\nwomen, whom I charged to take care of her, had given her the water\nsovereign against all fevers, which, however, she had no occasion\nfor, she pretended that water had cured her, and was brought to take\nher leave of me, that she might go the sooner to give an account of\nthe success of her undertaking. She was in so much haste, that she\nwould have gone away without seeing my palace, if I had not, by\nbidding my two women show it her, given her to understand that it\nwas worth her seeing. But go on, and tell me what is the necessity\nyour father has imposed on you to be so importunate, which I desire\nyou will be persuaded you can be.\n\nMadam, pursued prince Ahmed, you may have observed that hitherto I\nhave been content with your love, and have never asked you any other\nfavour: for what, after the possession of so amiable a wife, can I\ndesire more? I know how great your power is, but I have taken care\nnot to make trial of it. Consider then, I conjure you, that it is\nnot me, but the sultan my father, who, indiscreetly, as I think,\nasks of you a pavilion large enough to shelter him, his court, and\narmy, from the violence of the weather, when he takes the field, and\nwhich a man may carry in his hand. Once more, remember, it is not I,\nbut the sultan my father, who asks this favour.\n\nPrince, replied the fairy, smiling, I am sorry that so small a\nmatter should disturb you, and make you so uneasy as you appeared to\nme. I see plainly two things have contributed towards it: one is,\nthe law you have imposed upon yourself, to be content with loving\nme, and being beloved by me, and to deny yourself the liberty of\nasking me the least favour that might try my power. The other, I do\nnot doubt, whatever you may say, was, you thought that what your\nfather asked of me was out of my power. As to the first, I commend\nyou for it, and shall love you the better, if possible, for it; and\nfor the second, I must tell you, that what the sultan you father\nasks of me is a trifle; and upon occasions. I can do much more\ndifficult things. Therefore be easy, and persuaded, that far from\nthinking myself importuned, I shall always take a great deal of\npleasure in whatever you can desire me to do for your sake. Then the\nfairy sent for her treasurer, to whom, when she came, she said,\nNourgihan, [108] (which was her name,) bring me the largest pavilion\nin my treasury. Nourgihan returned presently with a pavilion, which\ncould not only be held, but concealed in the palm of the hand, when\nit was closed, and presented it to her mistress, who gave it prince\nAhmed to look at.\n\nWhen prince Ahmed saw the pavilion which the fairy called the\nlargest in her treasury, he fancied she had a mind to banter him,\nand his surprise appeared presently in his countenance, which Pari\nBanou perceiving, burst out a laughing. What! prince, cried she, do\nyou think I jest with you? You will see presently that I am in\nearnest. Nourgihan, said she to her treasurer, taking the tent out\nof prince Ahmed\u2019s hand, go and set it up, that the prince may\njudge whether the sultan his father will think it large enough.\n\nThe treasurer went out immediately with it from the palace, and\ncarried it to such a distance, that when she had set it up, one end\nreached to the palace. The prince, so far from thinking it small,\nfound it large enough to shelter two armies as numerous as that of\nthe sultan his father, and then said to Pari Banou, I ask my\nprincess a thousand pardons for my incredulity: after what I have\nseen, I believe there is nothing impossible to you. You see, said\nthe fairy, that the pavilion is larger than your father may have\noccasion for; but you are to observe, that it has one property, that\nit becomes larger or smaller, according to the army it is to cover,\nwithout applying any hands to it.\n\nThe treasurer took down the tent again, reduced it to its first\nsize, and brought it and put it into the prince\u2019s hands. He took\nit, and without staying any longer than till the next day, mounted\nhis horse, and went with the usual attendants to the sultan his\nfather.\n\nThe sultan, who was persuaded that such a tent as he asked for was\nbeyond all possibility, was in great surprise at the prince\u2019s\ndiligence. He took the tent, and after he had admired its smallness,\nhis amazement was so great that he could not recover himself when he\nhad set it up in the great plain before mentioned, and found it\nlarge enough to shelter an army twice as large as he could bring\ninto the field. Looking upon this circumstance to be a superfluity\nthat might be troublesome in the use, prince Ahmed told him, that\nits size would always be in proportion to his army.\n\nTo outward appearance the sultan expressed great obligations to the\nprince his son for so noble a present, desiring him to return his\nthanks to the fairy Pari Banou; and to show what a value he set on\nit, he ordered it to be carefully laid up in his treasury. But\nwithin himself he conceived a greater jealousy than what his\nflatterers and the magician had suggested to him; considering that\nby the fairy\u2019s assistance, the prince his son might perform things\nthat were infinitely above his own power notwithstanding his\ngreatness and riches, therefore, more intent upon his ruin, he went\nto consult the magician again, who advised him to engage the prince\nto bring some of the water of the fountain of lions.\n\nIn the evening, when the sultan was surrounded as usual by all the\ncourt, and the prince came to pay his respects among the rest, he\naddressed himself to him in these words: Son, said he, I have\nalready expressed to you how much I am obliged to you for the\npresent of the tent you have procured me, which I look upon as the\nmost valuable thing in my treasury; but you must do one thing more\nfor me, which will be no less agreeable to me. I am informed that\nthe fairy your spouse makes use of a certain water, called the water\nof the fountain of lions, which cures all sorts of fevers, even the\nmost dangerous; and as I am perfectly well persuaded my health is\ndear to you, I do not doubt but you will ask her for a bottle of\nthat water for me, and bring it me, as a sovereign remedy which I\nmay make use of when I have occasion. Do me this other important\npiece of service, and thereby complete the duty of a good son\ntowards a tender father.\n\nPrince Ahmed, who believed that the sultan his father would have\nbeen satisfied with so singular and useful a tent as that which he\nhad brought, and that he would not have imposed any new task upon\nhim which might hazard the fairy\u2019s displeasure, was thunderstruck\nat this new request, notwithstanding the assurance she had given him\nof granting him whatever lay in her power. After a long silence, he\nsaid, I beg of your majesty to be assured, that there is nothing I\nwould not undertake to procure you, which may contribute to the\nprolonging of your life, but I could wish it might not be by the\nmeans of my wife. For this reason I dare not promise to bring the\nwater. All I can do is, to assure you I will ask it of her; but it\nwill be with as great reluctance as when I asked for the tent.\n\nThe next morning prince Ahmed returned to the fairy Pan Banou, and\nrelated to her sincerely and faithfully all that had passed at the\nsultan his father\u2019s court, from the giving of the tent, which he\ntold her he received with the utmost gratitude for the favour she\nhad done him, to the new request he had charged him to make for him.\nAnd when he had done, he added: But, my princess, I only tell you\nthis is a plain account of what passed between me and my father. I\nleave you to your own pleasure, whether you will gratify or reject\nthis his new desire. It shall be as you please.\n\nNo, no, replied the fairy Pari Banou, I am glad that the sultan of\nthe Indies knows that you are not indifferent to me. I will satisfy\nhim, and whatever advice the magician can give him, (for I see that\nhe hearkens to her) he shall find no fault with you or me. There is\na great deal of wickedness in this demand, as you will understand by\nwhat I am going to tell you. The fountain of lions is situated in\nthe middle of a court of a great castle, the entrance into which is\nguarded by four fierce lions, two of which sleep alternately, while\nthe other two are awake. But let not that frighten you. I will give\nyou means to pass by them without any danger.\n\nThe fairy Pari Banou was at that time very hard at work with her\nneedle; and as she had by her several clues of thread, she took up\none, and presenting it to prince Ahmed, said, First take this clue\nof thread; I will tell you presently the use of it. In the second\nplace, you must have two horses; one you must ride yourself, and the\nother you must lead, which must be loaded with a sheep cut into four\nquarters, that must be killed to-day. In the third place, you must\nbe provided with a bottle, which I will give you, to bring the water\nin. Set out early to-morrow morning, and when you have passed the\niron gate, throw before you the clue of thread, which will roll till\nit comes to the gates of the castle. Follow it, and when it stops,\nas the gates will be open, you will see the four lions. The two that\nare awake will, by their roaring, wake the other two. Be not\nfrightened, but throw each of them a quarter of the sheep, and then\nclap spurs to your horse, and ride to the fountain. Fill your bottle\nwithout alighting, and then return with the same expedition. The\nlions will be so busy eating, they will let you pass by them.\n\nPrince Ahmed set out the next morning at the time appointed him by\nthe fairy, and followed her directions punctually. When he arrived\nat the gates of the castle, he distributed the quarters of the sheep\namong the four lions, and passing through the midst of them with\nintrepidity, got to the fountain, filled his bottle, and returned as\nsafe and sound as he went. When he had got a little distance from\nthe castle gates he turned about, and perceiving two of the lions\ncoming after him, he drew his sabre, and prepared himself for\ndefence. But as he went forwards, he saw one of them turned out of\nthe road at some distance, and showed by his head and tail that he\ndid not come to do him any harm, but only to go before him, and that\nthe other stayed behind to follow. He therefore put his sword again\ninto its scabbard. Guarded in this manner, he arrived at the capital\nof the Indies: but the lions never left him till they had conducted\nhim to the gates of the sultan\u2019s palace; after which they returned\nthe same way they came, though not without frightening all that saw\nthem, who fled or hid themselves to avoid them, though they walked\ngently, and showed no signs of fierceness.\n\nA great many officers came to attend the prince while he dismounted,\nand conducted him to the sultan\u2019s apartment who was at that time\nconversing with his favourites. He approached the throne, laid the\nbottle at the sultan\u2019s feet, and kissed the rich carpet which\ncovered the footstool, and, rising, said, I have brought you, sir,\nthe salutary water, which your majesty so much desired to keep among\nyour other rarities in your treasury; but at the same time wish you\nsuch extraordinary health, as never to have occasion to make use of\nit.\n\nAfter the prince had made an end of his compliment, the sultan\nplaced him on his right hand, and then said to him, Son, I am very\nmuch obliged to you for this valuable present; as also for the great\ndanger you have exposed yourself to on my account, which I have been\ninformed of by the magician, who knows the fountain of lions; but do\nme the pleasure, continued he, to inform me by what address, or\nrather, by what incredible power, you have been preserved.\n\nSir, replied prince Ahmed, I have no share in the compliment your\nmajesty is pleased to make me; all the honour is due to the fairy my\nspouse, and I take no other merit than that of having followed her\ngood advice. Then he informed the sultan what that advice was by the\nrelation of this his expedition, and how he had conducted himself.\nWhen he had done, the sultan, who showed outwardly all the\ndemonstrations of joy, but secretly became more and more jealous,\nretired into an inward apartment, where he sent for the magician.\n\nThe magician, at her arrival, saved the sultan the trouble to tell\nher of the success of prince Ahmed\u2019s journey, which she had heard\nof before she came, and therefore was prepared with the infallible\nmeans. This thought she communicated to the sultan, who declared it\nthe next day to the prince, in the midst of all his courtiers, in\nthese words: Son, said he, I have one thing more to ask of you,\nafter which, I shall expect nothing more from your obedience, nor\nyour interest with your wife. This request is, to bring me a man not\nabove a foot and a half high, and whose beard is thirty feet long,\nwho carries upon his shoulders a bar of iron of five hundred weight,\nwhich he uses as a quarter-staff, and who can speak.\n\nPrince Ahmed, who did not believe that there was such a man in the\nworld as his father described, would gladly have excused himself;\nbut the sultan persisted in his demand, and told him the fairy could\ndo more incredible things.\n\nNext day the prince returned to the subterraneous kingdom of Pari\nBanou, to whom he told his father\u2019s new demand, which, he said, he\nlooked upon to be a thing more impossible than the two first: for,\nadded he, I cannot imagine there is or can be such a man in the\nworld: without doubt, he has a mind to try whether I am silly enough\nto go about to seek it; or if there is such a man, he seeks my ruin.\nIn short, how can he suppose that I should lay hold of a man so\nsmall, armed as he describes? what arms can I make use of to reduce\nhim to submission? If there are any means, I beg you will tell me\nhow I may come off with honour this time also.\n\nDo not affright yourself prince, replied the fairy; you ran a risk\nin fetching the water of the fountain of lions for your father; but\nthere is no danger in finding out this man. It is my brother,\nShaibar, who is so far from being like me, though we both had the\nsame father, that he is of so violent a nature, that nothing can\nprevent his giving bloody marks of his resentment for a slight\noffence; yet, on the other hand, is so good as to oblige any one in\nwhatever they desire. He is made exactly as the sultan your father\nhas described him; and has no other arms than a bar of iron of five\nhundred pounds weight, without which he never stirs, and which makes\nhim respected. I will send for him, and you shall judge of the truth\nof what I tell you; but be sure to prepare yourself not to be\nfrightened at his extraordinary figure when you see him. What! my\nqueen, replied prince Ahmed, do you say Schaibar is your brother?\nLet him be ever so ugly or deformed, I shall be so far from being\nfrightened at the sight of him, that I shall love and honour him,\nand consider him as my nearest relation.\n\nThe fairy ordered a gold chafing-dish to be set with a fire in it\nunder the porch of her palace, with a box of the same metal, which\nwas a present to her, out of which, taking some incense, and\nthrowing it into the fire, there arose a thick cloud of smoke.\n\nSome moments after, the fairy said to prince Ahmed, Prince, there\ncomes my brother; do you see him? The prince immediately perceived\nSchaibar, who was but a foot and a half high, coming gravely with\nhis heavy bar on his shoulder; his beard thirty feet long, which\nsupported itself before him, and a pair of thick mustaches in\nproportion, tucked up to his ears, and almost covering his face: his\neyes were very small, like a pig\u2019s, and deep sunk in his head,\nwhich was of an enormous size, and on which he wore a pointed cap:\nbesides all this, he had a hump behind and before.\n\nIf prince Ahmed had not known that Schaibar was Pari Banou\u2019s\nbrother, he would not have been able to look at him without fear;\nbut knowing first who he was, he waited for him with the fairy, and\nreceived him without the least concern.\n\nSchaibar, as he came forwards, looked at the prince with an eye that\nwould have chilled his soul in his body, and asked Pari Banou, when\nhe first accosted her, who that man was? To which she replied, He is\nmy husband, brother; his name is Ahmed; he is son to the sultan of\nthe Indies. The reason why I did not invite you to my wedding was, I\nwas unwilling to divert you from the expedition you were engaged in,\nand from which I heard with pleasure you returned victorious; on his\naccount I have taken the liberty now to call for you.\n\nAt these words, Schaibar, looking on prince Ahmed with a favourable\neye, which however, diminished neither his fierceness nor savage\nlook, said, Is there any thing, sister, wherein I can serve him? he\nhas only to speak. It is enough to me that he is your husband, to\nengage me to do for him whatever he desires. The sultan his father,\nreplied Pari Banou, has a curiosity to see you, and I desire he may\nbe your guide to the sultan\u2019s court. He needs but lead me the way;\nI will follow him, replied Schaibar. Brother, replied Pari Banou, it\nis too late to go to-day, therefore stay till to-morrow morning; and\nin the mean time, as it is fit you should know all that has passed\nbetween the sultan of the Indies and prince Ahmed since our\nmarriage, I will inform you this evening.\n\nThe next morning, after Schaibar had been informed of all that was\nproper for him to know, he set out with the prince Ahmed, who was to\npresent him to the sultan. When they arrived at the gates of the\ncapital, the people no sooner saw Schaibar, but they ran and hid\nthemselves in the shops and houses, shutting their doors; while\nothers, taking to their heels, communicated their fears to all they\nmet, who staid not to look behind them, but ran too; insomuch that\nSchaibar and prince Ahmed, as they went along, found all the streets\nand squares desolate, till they came to the palace, where the\nporters, instead of preventing Schaibar from entering, ran away too;\nso that the prince and he advanced without any obstacle to the\ncouncil-hall, where the sultan was seated on his throne and giving\naudience. Here likewise the officers, at the approach of Schaibar,\nabandoned their posts, and gave them free admittance.\n\nSchaibar, carrying his head erect, went fiercely up to the throne,\nwithout waiting to be presented by prince Ahmed, and accosted the\nsultan of the Indies in these words: You have asked for me, said he:\nsee, here I am: what would you have with me?\n\nThe sultan, instead of answering him, clapt his hands before his\neyes, and turned away his head, to avoid the sight of so terrible an\nobject. Schaibar was so much provoked at this uncivil and rude\nreception, after he had given him the trouble to come so far, that\nhe instantly lifted up his iron bar, and saying, Speak, then let it\nfall on his head and killed him, before prince Ahmed could intercede\nin his behalf. All that he could do was to prevent his killing the\ngrand vizier, who sat not far from him on his right hand,\nrepresenting to him that he had always given the sultan his father\ngood advice. These are they then, said Schaibar, who gave him bad;\nand as he pronounced these words, he killed all the other viziers on\nthe right and left, flatterers and favourites of the sultan, who\nwere prince Ahmed\u2019s enemies. Every time he struck, he killed some\none or other, and none escaped but they who, not rendered motionless\nby fear, saved themselves by flight.\n\nWhen this terrible execution was over, Schaibar came out of the\ncouncil-hall into the midst of the court-yard with the iron bar upon\nhis shoulder, and looking at the grand vizier, who owed his life to\nprince Ahmed, he said, I know here is a certain female magician, who\nis a greater enemy of the prince my brother-in-law than all those\nbase favourites I have chastized; let her be brought to me\npresently. The grand vizier immediately sent for her, and as soon as\nshe was brought, Schaibar said, knocking her down with the iron bar,\nTake the reward of thy pernicious counsel, and learn to feign\nsickness again: he then left her dead on the spot.\n\nAfter this he said, This is not yet enough; I will treat the whole\ncity after the same manner, if they do not immediately acknowledge\nprince Ahmed my brother-in-law for their sultan, and sultan of the\nIndies. Then all that were present made the air ring with the\nrepeated acclamations of Long life to sultan Ahmed; and immediately\nafter he was proclaimed through the whole town. Schaibar made him be\nclothed in the royal vestments, installed him on the throne, and\nafter he had made all swear homage and fidelity to him, went and\nfetched his sister Pari Banou, whom he brought with great pomp, and\nmade her to be owned sultaness of the Indies.\n\nAs for prince Ali and princess Nouronnihar, as they had no hand in\nthe conspiracy against prince Ahmed, who was now avenged, nor knew\nof any such conspiracy, prince Ahmed assigned them a considerable\nprovince, with its capital, where they spent the rest of their\nlives. Afterwards he sent an officer to prince Houssain, to acquaint\nhim with the change, and make him an offer of which province he\nliked best; but that prince thought himself so happy in his\nsolitude, that he bid the officer return the sultan his brother\nthanks for the kindness he designed him, assuring him of his\nsubmission; and that the only favour he desired of him was to give\nhim leave to live retired in the place he had made choice of for his\nretreat.\n\n\n\n\nThe Story of the Sisters who envied their younger Sister.\n\n\nThere was a prince of Persia, named Khosrouschah, [109] who, when he\nfirst came to his crown, in order to obtain a knowledge of the\nworld, took great pleasure in night adventures. He often disguised\nhimself, attended by a trusty minister, disguised like him, and\nrambled through the whole city, and met with a great many particular\nadventures, which, said Scheherazade to the sultan, I shall not at\npresent entertain your majesty with; but I hope you will hear with\npleasure what happened to him upon his first ramble, which was in a\nlittle time after his accession to his father\u2019s throne, who dying\nin a good old age, left him heir to the kingdom of Persia.\n\nAfter the ceremonies of his deceased father\u2019s funeral-rites, and\nhis own coronation, were over, the new sultan Khosrouschah, as well\nfrom inclination as duty, went out one evening, attended by his\ngrand vizier, disguised like himself, to observe what passed. As he\nwent through a street in that part of the town inhabited only by the\nmeaner sort of people, he heard some people talking very loud; and\ngoing up close to the house, from whence the noise came, and looking\nthrough a crack in the door, perceived a light, and three sisters\nsitting on a sofa, conversing together after supper. By what the\neldest said, he presently understood the subject of their discourse\nwas wishes; For, said she, since we have got upon wishes, mine shall\nbe to have the sultan\u2019s baker for my husband, for then I shall eat\nmy fill of that bread, which by way of excellence is called the\nsultan\u2019s bread: let us see if your tastes are as good as mine. For\nmy part, replied the second sister, I wish I was the sultan\u2019s\nchief cook\u2019s wife; for then I should eat of the most excellent\nragouts; and as I am persuaded that the sultan\u2019s bread is common\nin the palace, I should not want any of that; therefore you see,\nsister, addressing herself to her eldest sister, that I have a\nbetter taste than you.\n\nThen the youngest sister, who was very beautiful, and had more\ncharms and wit than the two eldest, spoke in her turn: For my part,\nsisters, said she, I shall not limit my desires to such trifles, but\ntake a higher flight; and since we are upon wishing, I wish to be\nthe sultan\u2019s wife. I would make him father of a prince, whose hair\nshould be gold on one side of his head, and silver on the other;\nwhen he cries, the tears that fall from his eyes shall be pearl; and\nwhen he smiles, his vermilion lips shall look like a rose-bud fresh\nblown.\n\nThe three sisters\u2019 wishes, particularly the youngest\u2019s, seemed\nso singular to the sultan Khosrouschah, that he resolved to gratify\nthem in their desires; and without communicating this his design to\nhis grand vizier, he charged him only to take notice of the house,\nand bring the three sisters before him the next day.\n\nThe grand vizier, in executing the sultan\u2019s orders, would but just\ngive the three sisters time to dress themselves to appear before\nhim, without telling them the reason. He brought them to the palace,\nand presented them to the sultan, who said to them, Do you remember\nthe wishes you made last night, when you were all in so pleasant a\nmood? Speak the truth; I must know what they were.\n\nAt these unexpected words of the sultan, the three sisters were very\nmuch confounded. They cast down their eyes and blushed, and the\ncolour which rose in the cheeks of the youngest quite captivated the\nsultan\u2019s heart. Modesty, and fear lest they might have offended\nthe sultan by their discourse, kept them silent. The sultan\nperceiving it, to encourage them, said, Fear nothing, I did not send\nfor you to distress you; and since I see that is the effect of the\nquestion I ask you, without my intending it, and I know the wish of\neach, I will relieve you from your fears. You, added he, that wished\nto be my wife, you shall have your desire this day; and you,\ncontinued he, addressing himself to the two eldest sisters, you\nshall also be married to my chief baker and cook.\n\nAs soon as the sultan had declared his pleasure, the youngest\nsister, setting the eldest an example, threw herself at the\nsultan\u2019s feet, to express her gratitude. Sir, said she, my wish,\nsince it has come to your majesty\u2019s knowledge, was only by way of\nconversation and amusement. I am unworthy of the honour you do me,\nand ask pardon for my boldness. The two other sisters would have\nexcused themselves also; but the sultan interrupting them, said, No,\nno; it shall be so; every one\u2019s wish shall be fulfilled.\n\nThe nuptials were all celebrated that day, as the sultan had\nresolved, but after a different manner. The youngest sister\u2019s were\nsolemnized with all the rejoicings usual at the marriages of the\nsultans of Persia; and those of the other two sisters according to\nthe quality and distinction of their husbands; the one as the\nsultan\u2019s chief baker, and the other as head cook.\n\nThe two elder sisters felt strongly the disproportion of their\nmarriages to that of their younger sister. This consideration made\nthem far from being content, though they were arrived at the utmost\nheight of their wishes, and much beyond their hopes. They gave\nthemselves up to an excess of jealousy, which not only disturbed\ntheir joy, but was the cause of great troubles and afflictions to\nthe sultaness their younger sister. They had not an opportunity to\ncommunicate their thoughts to each other upon the preference the\nsultan had given her to their prejudice, but were altogether\nemployed in preparing themselves for the celebration of their\nmarriages. Some days afterwards, when they had an opportunity of\nseeing each other at the public baths, the eldest sister said to the\nother, Well, sister, what say you to our sister\u2019s great fortune?\nIs not she a fine person to be a sultaness! I must own, said the\nother sister, I cannot conceive what charms the sultan could\ndiscover in her, to be so bewitched by a young jade. You know in\nwhat a state we have both seen her. Was it a reason sufficient for\nhim not to cast his eyes on you, because she was somewhat younger\nthan us? You were as worthy of his bed; and in justice he ought to\nhave preferred you.\n\nSister, said the elder, I should not have said any thing, if the\nsultan had but pitched upon you; but that he should choose that\nhussy, is what grieves me. But I will revenge myself; and you, I\nthink, are as much concerned as I; therefore I would have us\ncontrive measures together, that we may act in concert in a common\ncause, and communicate to me what you think the likeliest way to\nmortify her, while I, on my side, will inform you what my desire of\nrevenge shall suggest to me.\n\nAfter this wicked plot, the two sisters saw each other very\nfrequently, and always consulted how they might disturb and\ninterrupt the happiness of the sultaness their younger sister. They\nproposed a great many ways, but in deliberating about the manner of\nexecuting them, they found so many difficulties, that they durst not\nattempt them. In the mean time, they often went together to make her\nvisits with a detestable dissimulation, and every time gave her all\nthe marks of friendship they could imagine, to persuade her how\noverjoyed they were to have a sister raised to so high a fortune.\nThe sultaness, on her part, always received them with all the\ndemonstrations of esteem and value they could expect from a sister\nwho was not puffed up with her high dignity, and loved them as\ncordially as before.\n\nSome months after her marriage, the sultaness found herself to be\nwith child. The sultan expressed great joy, which was communicated\nto all the court, and spread throughout the capital of Persia. Upon\nthis news, the two sisters came to pay their compliments, and\nentering into discourse with her sister about her lying-in, they\nproffered their service to deliver her, desiring her, if she was not\nprovided with a midwife, to accept of them.\n\nThe sultaness said to them most obligingly, Sisters, I should desire\nno better, if it was absolutely in my power to make choice of you. I\nam however obliged to you for your good-will, but must submit to\nwhat the sultan shall order on this occasion. Let your husbands\nemploy their friends to make interest, and get some courtier to ask\nthis favour of the sultan; and if he speaks to me about it, be\nassured that I shall not only express the pleasure he does me, but\nthank him for making choice of you.\n\nThe two husbands applied themselves to some courtiers their patrons,\nand begged of them to use their interest to procure their wives the\nhonour they aspired to. Those patrons exerted themselves so much in\ntheir behalf, that the sultan promised them to consider of it, and\nwas as good as his word; for in conversation with the sultaness, he\ntold her that he thought her sisters were the most proper persons to\nassist her in her labour; but would not name them before he asked\nher consent. The sultaness, sensible of the deference the sultan so\nobligingly paid her, said to him, Sir, I was prepared to do as your\nmajesty shall please to command me. But since you have been so kind\nas to think of my sisters, I thank you for that regard you have\nshown them for my sake; and therefore I shall not dissemble, that I\nhad rather have them than strangers.\n\nThen the sultan Khosrouschah named the sultaness\u2019s two sisters to\nbe her midwives; and from that time they went backwards and forwards\nto the palace, overjoyed at the opportunity they should have of\nexecuting the detestable wickedness they had meditated against the\nsultaness their sister.\n\nWhen the sultaness\u2019s reckoning was out, she was safely delivered\nof a young prince, as bright as the day; but neither his innocence\nnor beauty were capable of moving the cruel hearts of the merciless\nsisters. They wrapped him up carelessly in his blankets, and put him\ninto a basket, which they abandoned to the stream of a small canal\nwhich ran under the sultaness\u2019s apartment, and declared she was\ndelivered of a little dead dog, which they produced. This\ndisagreeable news was announced to the sultan, who conceived so much\nanger thereat, as might have proved fatal to the sultaness, if his\ngrand vizier had not represented to him that he could not, without\ninjustice, make her answerable for the caprices of nature.\n\nIn the mean time, the basket in which the little prince was exposed\nwas carried by the stream beyond a wall which bounded the prospect\nof the sultaness\u2019s apartment, and from thence floated with the\ncurrent down the gardens. By chance the intendant of the sultan\u2019s\ngarden, one of the principal and most considerable officers of the\nkingdom, walking in the garden by the side of this canal, and\nperceiving a basket floating, called to a gardener, who was not far\noff, and bid him come presently to him, and reach him that basket,\nwhich he showed him that he might see what was in it. The gardener,\nwith a spade which he had in his hand, brought the basket to the\nside of the canal, took it up, and gave it to him.\n\nThe intendant of the gardens was extremely surprised to see in the\nbasket a child, which, though he easily knew it to be but just born,\nhad very fine features. This officer had been married several years,\nand though he had always been desirous of having children, Heaven\nhad never blessed him with any. This accident interrupted his walk:\nhe made the gardener follow him with the child; and when he came to\nhis own house, which was situated at the entrance into the gardens\nof the palace, he went into his wife\u2019s apartment. Wife, said he,\nas we have no children of our own, God has sent us one. I recommend\nhim to you; provide him a nurse presently, and take as much care of\nhim as if he were our own son; for, from this moment, I acknowledge\nhim as such. The intendant\u2019s wife received the child with great\njoy, and took particular pleasure in the care of him. The intendant\nhimself would not inquire too narrowly whence the child came. He saw\nplainly it came not far off the sultaness\u2019s apartment; but it was\nnot his business to examine too closely into what had passed, nor to\ncreate disturbances in a place where peace was so necessary.\n\nThe year after the sultaness was brought to bed of another prince,\non whom the unnatural sisters had no more compassion than on his\nbrother; but exposed him likewise in a basket, and set him adrift in\nthe canal, pretending this time that the sultaness was delivered of\na cat. It was happy also for this child that the intendant of the\ngardens was walking by the canal side, who had it carried to his\nwife, and charged her to take as much care of it as of the first;\nwhich suited as well her inclination, as it was agreeable to the\nintendant.\n\nThe sultan of Persia was more enraged this time against the\nsultaness than before, and she had felt the effects of his anger, if\nthe grand vizier\u2019s remonstrances had not prevailed.\n\nThe third time the sultaness lay in she was delivered of a princess,\nwhich innocent babe underwent the same fate as the princes her\nbrothers; for the two sisters being determined not to put an end to\ntheir detestable schemes, till they had seen the sultaness their\nyounger sister at least cast off, turned out, and humbled, exposed\nthis child also on the canal. But the princess was preserved from\ncertain death by the compassion and charity of the intendant of the\ngardens, as well as the two princes her brothers.\n\nTo this inhumanity the two sisters added a lie and deceit as before.\nThey produced a piece of wood, and affirmed it to be a false birth\nwhich the sultaness was delivered of.\n\nThe sultan Khosrouschah could no longer contain himself, when he was\ninformed of the new extraordinary birth. What! said he, this woman,\nunworthy of my bed, will fill my palace with monsters, if I let her\nlive any longer! No, it shall not be, added he: she is a monster\nherself, and I must rid the world of her. He pronounced this\nsentence of death, and ordered the grand vizier to see it executed.\n\nThe grand vizier, and the courtiers who were present, cast\nthemselves at the sultan\u2019s feet, to beg of him to revoke that\nsentence. Your majesty, I hope, will give me leave, said the grand\nvizier, to represent to you, that the laws which condemn persons to\ndeath were made to punish crimes: the three extraordinary labours of\nthe sultaness are not crimes; for in what can she be said to have\ncontributed towards them? A great many other women have had, and\nhave the same every day, and are to be pitied; but not punished.\nYour majesty may abstain from seeing her, and let her live. The\naffliction in which she will spend the rest of her life after the\nloss of your favour, will be a punishment great enough.\n\nThe sultan of Persia considered with himself, and found that it was\ninjustice in him to condemn the sultaness to death for extraordinary\nbirths, and said, Let her live then; I will give her life; but it\nshall be on this condition, that she shall desire to die more than\nonce every day. Let a wooden shed be built for her at the gate of\nthe principal mosque, with iron bars to the windows, and let her be\nput into it, in the coarsest habit; and every Mussulman that shall\ngo into the mosque to prayers shall spit in her face. --If any one\nfail, I will have him exposed to the same punishment; and that I may\nbe punctually obeyed, I charge you, vizier, to appoint persons to\nsee this done.\n\nThe sultan pronounced this last sentence in such a tone, that the\ngrand vizier durst not open his mouth; and it was executed, to the\ngreat satisfaction of the two envious sisters. A shed was built, and\nthe sultaness, truly worthy of compassion, as soon as her month was\nup, was put into it, and exposed ignominiously to the contempt of\nthe people; which usage, as she did not deserve, she bore with a\nconstancy which excited the admiration, as well as compassion, of\nthose who judged of things better than the vulgar.\n\nThe two princes and the princess were nursed and brought up by the\nintendant of the gardens and his wife, with all the tenderness of a\nfather and mother; and as they advanced in age, they all showed\nmarks of superior greatness, (and the princess in particular, a\ncharming beauty,) which discovered itself every day by their\ndocility and good inclinations above trifles, and different from\nthose of common children, and by a certain air which could only\nbelong to princes and princesses. All this increased the affections\nof the intendant and his wife, who called the eldest prince Bahman,\nand the second Perviz, both of them names of the most ancient\nsultans of Persia, and the princess Parizade, which name also had\nbeen borne by several sultanesses and princesses of the kingdom.\n[110]\n\nAs soon as the two princes were old enough, the intendant provided\nproper masters to teach them to read and write; and the princess\ntheir sister, who was often with them when they were learning their\nlessons, showing a great desire to learn to read and write, though\nmuch younger than they, the intendant was so much taken with that\ndisposition of hers, that he employed the same master to teach her\nalso. Her emulation, vivacity, and piercing wit, made her in a\nlittle time as great a proficient as her brothers.\n\nFrom that time, the brothers and sister had all the same masters in\nall the other arts, in geography, poetry, history, even the secret\nsciences; all which came so easily to them, and in a little time\nthey made so wonderful a progress, that their masters were amazed,\nand frankly owned, that if they held on so but a little longer, they\ncould teach them no farther. At the hours of recreation, the\nprincess learned to sing, and play upon all sorts of instruments;\nand when the princes were learning to ride, she would not permit\nthem to have that advantage over her, but went through all exercises\nwith them, learning to ride, bend the bow, and dart the reed or\njavelin, and oftentimes outstrip them in the race.\n\nThe intendant of the gardens was so overjoyed to find his adopted\nchildren so accomplished in all the perfections of body and mind,\nand that they answered so well the charge he had been at upon their\neducation, that he resolved to be still at a greater expense; for\nwhereas he had till then been content only with his lodge at the\nentrance of the garden, and kept no country-house, he purchased a\ncountry-seat at a small distance from the city, surrounded with a\nlarge tract of arable land, meadows, and woods. As the house was not\nsufficiently handsome nor convenient, he pulled it down, and spared\nno expense to make it magnificent. He went every day to hasten, by\nhis presence, the great number of workmen he employed; and as soon\nas there was an apartment ready to receive him, he passed several\ndays together there, when his presence was not necessary at court;\nand by the same exertions, the house was furnished in the richest\nmanner, answerably to the magnificence of the edifice. Afterwards he\nmade gardens, according to the plan drawn by himself, after the\nmanner of the great lords in Persia. He took in a large compass of\nground for a park, which he walled round, and stocked with fallow\ndeer, that the princes and princess might divert themselves with\nhunting when they pleased.\n\nWhen this country-seat was finished and fit for habitation, the\nintendant of the gardens went and cast himself at the sultan\u2019s\nfeet, and, after representing to him how long he had served him, and\nthe infirmities of age which he found growing upon him, he begged he\nwould permit him to resign his charge into his majesty\u2019s hands,\nand retire. The sultan gave him leave with the more pleasure,\nbecause he was satisfied with his long services, both in his\nfather\u2019s reign and his own; and when he granted it, he asked him\nwhat he should do to recompense him. Sir, replied the intendant of\nthe gardens, I have received so many obligations from your majesty,\nand the late sultan your father, of happy memory, that I desire no\nmore than the honour of dying in your favour.\n\nHe took his leave of the sultan Khosrouschah, and afterwards\nreturned to the country retreat he had built, with the two princes,\nBahman and Perviz, and the princess Parizade. His wife had been dead\nsome years, and he himself had not lived above six months with them,\nbefore he was surprised by so sudden a death, that he had not time\nto give them the least account of their birth, which he had resolved\nto do, as necessary to oblige them to continue to live, as they had\nthen done, agreeably to their rank and condition, and the education\nhe had given them, and to their own inclination.\n\nThe princes Bahman and Perviz, and the princess Parizade, who knew\nno other tether than the intendant of the sultan\u2019s gardens,\nregretted and bewailed him as such, and paid him all the honours in\nhis funeral obsequies which their love and filial gratitude required\nof them. Content with the plentiful fortune he left them, they lived\ntogether in the same perfect union, free from the ambition of\ndistinguishing themselves at court, with a view to places of honour\nand dignity, which they might easily have obtained.\n\nOne day, when the two princes were hunting, and the princess\nParizade stayed at home, a religious old woman came to the gate, and\ndesired leave to go in to say her prayers, it being then the hour.\nThe servants went and asked the princess\u2019s leave, who ordered them\nto show her into the oratory, which the intendant of the sultan\u2019s\ngardens had taken care to fit up in his house, for want of a mosque\nin the neighbourhood. She bade them also, after the good woman had\nfinished her prayers, show her the house and gardens, and then bring\nher to her.\n\nThe religious old woman went into the oratory, said her prayers, and\nwhen she came out again, two of the princess\u2019s women, who waited\non her, invited her to see the house and gardens; which civility she\naccepted of, and followed them from one apartment to another, and\nobserved, as a person who understood what belonged to furniture, the\nnice arrangement of every thing. They conducted her also into the\ngarden, the disposition of which she found so new and well planned,\nthat she admired it, observing that the person who drew it, must\nhave been an excellent master of his art. Afterwards she was brought\nbefore the princess, who waited for her in the great hall, which, in\npropriety, beauty, and richness, exceeded all she had admired before\nin the apartments.\n\nAs soon as the princess saw the devout woman, she said to her, My\ngood mother, come near and sit down by me. I am overjoyed at the\nhappiness of having the opportunity of profiting for some moments by\nthe good example and discourse of such a person as you, who has\ntaken the right way, by dedicating yourself to the service of God. I\nwish every body were as wise.\n\nThe religious woman, instead of sitting upon a sofa, would only sit\nupon the edge of it. The princess would not permit her to do so, but\nrising from her seat, and taking her by the hand, obliged her to\ncome and sit by her. The good woman, sensible of the civility, said,\nMadam, I ought not to have so much respect shown me; but since you\ncommand me, and are mistress of your own house, I obey you. When she\nhad sat down, before they entered into any conversation, one of the\nprincess\u2019s women brought a little low table of mother of pearl and\nebony, with a china dish full of cakes upon it, and a great many\nothers set round it full of fruits in season, and wet and dry\nsweetmeats.\n\nThe princess took up one of the cakes, and presenting her with it,\nsaid, Eat, good mother, and make choice of what you like best; you\nhad need to eat after coming so far. Madam, replied the good woman,\nI am not used to eat such nice things; but will not refuse what God\nhas sent me by so liberal a hand as yours.\n\nWhile the religious woman was eating, the princess ate something\ntoo, to bear her company, and asked her a great many questions upon\nthe exercise of devotion which she practised, and how she lived; all\nwhich questions she asked with great modesty. Talking of several\nthings, at last she asked her what she thought of the house, and how\nshe liked it.\n\nMadam, answered the devout woman, I must certainly have very bad\ntaste to disapprove any thing in it, since it is beautiful, regular,\nand magnificently furnished with exactness and judgment, and all its\nornaments adjusted in the best manner. Its situation is an agreeable\nspot, and no garden can be more delightful; but yet if you will give\nme leave to speak my mind freely, I will take the liberty to tell\nyou, that this house would be incomparable, if it had three things\nwhich are wanting to it. My good mother, replied the princess\nParizade, what are those three things? I conjure you, in God\u2019s\nname, to tell me what they are: I will spare nothing to get them if\nit be possible.\n\nMadam, replied the devout woman, the first of these three things, is\nthe speaking bird, which is called Bulbulkezer, and is so singular a\ncreature that it can draw round it all the singing birds of the\nneighbourhood, which come to accompany his song. The second is, the\nsinging tree, the leaves of which are so many mouths which form a\nharmonious concert of different voices, and never cease. The third\nis the yellow water of gold colour, a single drop of which being\npoured in a vessel properly prepared in whatever part of the garden,\nit increases so that it fills it immediately, and rises up in the\nmiddle like a fountain, which continually plays in it, and yet the\nbasin never overflows.\n\nAh! my good mother, cried the princess, how much I am obliged to you\nfor the knowledge of these things! They are surprising, and I never\nbefore heard there were such curious and wonderful things in the\nworld; but as I am well persuaded that you know where they are, I\nexpect that you should do me the favour to tell me.\n\nMadam, replied the good woman, I should be unworthy the hospitality\nyou have with so much goodness shown me, if I should refuse to\nsatisfy your curiosity in that point; and am glad to have the honour\nto tell you that these three things are to be met with in the same\nspot on the confines of this kingdom towards India. The road to it\nlies before your house, and whoever you send needs but to follow it\nfor twenty days, and on the twentieth let him but ask the first\nperson he meets, where the speaking bird, singing tree, and yellow\nwater are, and he will be informed. After these words, she rose from\nher seat, took her leave, and went her way.\n\nThe princess Parizade\u2019s thoughts were so taken up with what the\nreligious woman had told her of the speaking bird, singing tree, and\nyellow water, that she never perceived she was gone, till she wanted\nto ask her some question for her better information; for she thought\nthat what she had told her was not a sufficient reason for exposing\nherself by undertaking a long journey possibly to no purpose.\nHowever, she would not send after her to fetch her back, but\nendeavoured to remember all she had told her; and when she thought\nshe had recollected every word, she took real pleasure in thinking\nof the satisfaction she should have, if she could get these\nwonderful things into her possession; but the difficulties she\napprehended, and the fear of not succeeding, made her very uneasy.\n\nShe was lost in these thoughts, when her brothers returned from\nhunting; who, when they entered the great hall, instead of finding\nher lively and gay, as she used to be, were amazed to see her so\npensive, and hang down her head as if something troubled her.\n\nSister, said prince Bahman, what is become of all your mirth and\ngayety? Are you not well? or has some misfortune befallen you? Has\nany body given you reason to be so melancholy? Tell us, that we may\nknow how to act, and give you some relief. If any body has affronted\nyou, we will resent it.\n\nThe princess Parizade remained in the same posture some time without\nanswering; but at last lifted up her eyes to look at her brothers,\nand then held them down again, telling them nothing disturbed her.\n\nSister, said prince Bahman, you conceal the truth from us; there\nmust be something of consequence. It is impossible, for the short\ntime we have been absent, we could observe so sudden a change, if\nnothing was the matter with you. You would not have us satisfied\nwith the unsatisfactory answer you have given us: do not conceal any\nthing from us, unless you would have us believe that you renounce\nthe friendship and strict union which have hitherto subsisted\nbetween us from our infancy.\n\nThe princess, who had not the smallest intention to break with her\nbrothers, would not suffer them to entertain such a thought, but\nsaid, When I told you nothing disturbed me, I meant, nothing that\nwas of any great importance to you; but to me it is of some\nconsequence; and since you press me to tell you by our strict union\nand friendship, which are so dear to me, I will. You think, and I\nalways believed so too, that this house, which our late father built\nfor us, was complete in every thing, and that nothing was wanting.\nBut this day I have learned that it wants three things, which would\nrender it so perfect, that no country-seat in the world could be\ncompared with it. These three things are, the speaking bird, the\nsinging tree, and the yellow water. After she had informed them\nwherein consisted the excellency of these three rarities, A\nreligious woman, added she, has made this discovery to me, and told\nme the place where they are to be found, and the way thither.\nPerhaps you may imagine these things to be trifles, and of little\nconsequence to render our house complete, and that, without these\nadditions, it will always be thought fine enough with what it\nalready contains, and that we can do without them. You may think as\nyou please; but I cannot help telling you that I am persuaded they\nare absolutely necessary, and I shall not be easy without them.\nTherefore, whether you value them or not, I desire you to give me\nyour opinion, and consider what person you may think proper for me\nto send on this conquest.\n\nSister, replied prince Bahman, nothing can concern you in which we\nhave not an equal interest. It is enough you have an earnest desire\nfor the things you mention, to oblige us to take the same interest;\nbut if you had not, we feel ourselves inclined of our own accord,\nand for our own particular satisfaction. I am persuaded my brother\nis of the same opinion, and therefore we ought to undertake this\nconquest, as you call it; for the importance and singularity of it\ndeserves that name. I will take that charge upon myself; only tell\nme the place, and the way to it, and I will defer my journey no\nlonger than till to-morrow.\n\nBrother, said prince Perviz, it is not convenient that you, who are\nthe head and support of the family, should be absent so long. I\ndesire my sister would join with me to oblige you to abandon your\ndesign, and allow me to undertake it. I hope to acquit myself as\nwell as you, and it will be a more regular proceeding. --I am\npersuaded of your good-will, brother, replied prince Bahman, and\nthat you will acquit yourself as well as me in this journey; but I\nhave resolved on it, and will do it. You shall stay at home with our\nsister, and I need not recommend her to you. He spent the remainder\nof that day in making preparations for his journey, and informing\nhimself from the princess of the directions the devout woman left\nher, that he might not miss his way.\n\nThe next morning early, prince Bahman mounted his horse, and prince\nPerviz and the princess Parizade, who would see him set out,\nembraced, and wished him a good journey. But in the midst of their\nadieus, the princess recollected one thing, which she had not\nthought on before. Brother, said she, I had quite forgotten the\naccidents which attend travellers. Who knows whether I shall ever\nsee you again? Alight, I beseech you, and give up this journey. I\nwould rather be deprived of the sight and possession of the speaking\nbird, singing-tree, and yellow water, than run the risk of never\nseeing you more.\n\nSister, replied prince Bahman, smiling at the sudden fears of the\nprincess Parizade, my resolution is fixed, and was it not, I should\ndetermine upon it now, and you must allow me to execute it. The\naccidents you speak of befall only those who are unfortunate. It is\ntrue, I may be of that number; but there are more who are not so\nthan who are, and I may be of the former number. But as events are\nuncertain, and I may fall in this undertaking, all I can do is to\nleave you this knife.\n\nThen prince Bahman pulled a knife out of his pocket, and presenting\nit in the sheath to the princess, said, Take this knife, sister, and\ngive yourself the trouble sometimes to pull it out of the sheath:\nwhile you see it clean as it is now, it shall be a sign that I am\nalive; but if you find it stained with blood, then you may believe\nme dead, and indulge me with your prayers.\n\nThe princess Parizade could obtain nothing more of prince Bahman. He\nbade adieu to her and prince Perviz for the last time, and rode away\nwell mounted, armed, and equipped. When he got into the road, he\nnever turned to the right hand nor to the left, but went directly\nforwards toward India. The twentieth day he perceived on the road\nside a hideous old man, who sat under a tree some small distance\nfrom a thatched house, which was his retreat from the weather.\n\nHis eyebrows were as white as snow, and so was the hair of his head;\nhis whiskers covered his mouth, and his beard and hair reached down\nto his feet. The nails of his hands and feet were grown to an\nextensive length; his flat broad hat, like an umbrella, covered his\nhead. He had no clothes, but only a mat thrown round his body.\n\nThis old man was a dervise, who had for many years retired from the\nworld, and had neglected himself to give himself up entirely to the\nservice of God; so that at last he was become what we have described.\n\nPrince Bahman, who had been all that morning very attentive to see\nif he could meet with any body that could give him information of\nthe place he was going to, stopped when he came near the dervise, as\nthe first person he had met and alighted from off his horse, in\nconformity to the directions the religious woman had given the\nprincess Parizade; and leading his horse by the bridle, advanced\ntowards him, and saluting him, said, God prolong your days, good\nfather, and grant you the accomplishment of your desires.\n\nThe dervise returned the prince\u2019s salutation, but so\nunintelligibly, that he could not understand one word he said:\nprince Bahman perceiving that this difficulty proceeded from the\ndervise\u2019s whiskers hanging over his mouth, and unwilling to go any\nfarther without the instructions he wanted, he pulled out a pair of\nscissors he had about him, and having tied his horse to a branch of\nthe tree, said to the dervise, Good dervise, I want to have some\ntalk with you; but your whiskers prevent my understanding what you\nsay; and if you will consent, I will cut off some part of them and\nof your eyebrows, which disfigures you so much, that you look more\nlike a bear than a man.\n\nThe dervise did not oppose the prince, but let him do it; and when\nthe prince had cut off as much hair as he thought fit, he perceived\nthat the dervise had a good complexion, and that he did not seem so\nold as he really was. Good dervise, said he, if I had a glass, I\nwould show you how young you look: you are now a man, but before,\nnobody could tell what you were.\n\nThe kind behaviour of prince Bahman made the dervise smile, and\nreturn his compliment. Sir, said be, whoever you are, I am\ninfinitely obliged to you for the good office you have done me, and\nam ready to show my gratitude, by doing any thing in my power for\nyou. You must have alighted here upon some account or other. Tell me\nwhat it is, and I will endeavour to serve you if I can.\n\nGood dervise, replied prince Bahman, I have come a great way, and am\nin search after the speaking bird, the singing tree, and the yellow\nwater; I know these three things are not far from hence, but cannot\ntell exactly the place where they are to be found: if you know, I\nconjure you to show me the way, that I may not mistake it, and lose\nmy labour after so long a journey.\n\nThe prince, while he spoke, observed that the dervise changed\ncountenance, held down his eyes, and looked very serious, and,\ninstead of making any reply, remained silent; which obliged him to\nsay to him again, Good father, I fancy you heard me; tell me whether\nyou know what I ask you, that I may not lose my time, and inform\nmyself somewhere else.\n\nAt last the dervise broke silence. Sir, said he to prince Bahman, I\nknow the way you ask of me; but the friendship which I conceived for\nyou the first moment I saw you, and which is grown stronger by the\nservice you have done me, kept me in suspense, whether I should give\nyou the satisfaction you desire. What motive can hinder you? replied\nthe prince; and what difficulties do you find in so doing? I will\ntell you, replied the dervise; the danger you are going to expose\nyourself to is greater than you can believe. A great number of\ngentlemen, of as much bravery and courage as you can have, passed by\nhere, and asked me the same question you do now. When I had used all\nmy endeavours to persuade them to desist, they would not believe me;\nat last, I have yielded to their importunities; I was compelled to\nshow them the way, and I can assure you they have all perished, and\nI have not seen one come back again. Therefore, if you have any\nregard for your life, take my advice, go no farther, return home.\n\nPrince Bahman persisted in his resolution. I will not believe, said\nhe to the dervise, but that your advice is sincere. I am obliged to\nyou for the friendship you express for me; but whatever may be the\ndanger you tell me of, nothing shall make me change my intention:\nwhoever attacks me, I am well armed, and can say I am as brave as\nany one. But they who shall attack you are not to be seen, replied\nthe dervise, for there are a great many of them; how will you defend\nyourself against invisible persons? It is no matter, answered the\nprince; all you say shall not persuade me to do any thing contrary\nto my duty. Since you know the way, I conjure you once more to tell\nme, and not refuse me that favour.\n\nWhen the dervise found he could not prevail upon prince Bahman, and\nthat he was obstinately bent to pursue his journey, notwithstanding\nthe wholesome advice he gave him, he put his hand into a bag that\nlay by him, and pulled out a bowl, which he presented to him. Since\nI cannot prevail on you to hear me and take my advice, said he, take\nthis bowl, and when you are on horseback throw it before you, and\nfollow it to the foot of a mountain, where it will stop. As soon as\nthe bowl stops, alight, and leave your horse with the bridle over\nhis neck, and he will stand in the same place till you return. As\nyou go up the hill, you will see on your right and left hand a great\nquantity of large black stones, and will hear on all sides of you a\nconfusion of voices, which will say a thousand injurious things to\nyou to discourage you, and prevent your climbing up to the top of\nthe hill: but take care, and be not afraid; and, above all things,\ndo not turn your head to look behind you; for in that instant you\nwill be changed into such a black stone as those you see, which are\nall so many gentlemen, who have failed in this enterprise, as I told\nyou. If you escape the danger which I give you but a slight\ndescription of, that you might reflect on it, and get to the top of\nthe mountain, you will see a cage, and in that cage is the bird you\nseek: ask him where are the singing tree and the yellow water, and\nhe will tell you. I have nothing more to say; this is what you have\nto do, and the danger you have to avoid; but if you would believe\nme, you would take my advice, and not expose your life. Consider\nonce more while you have time, that the difficulty is almost\ninsuperable, and attached to a condition which may be counteracted\neven by inadvertence, as you may easily comprehend.\n\nI am very much obliged to you for your repeated advice, replied\nprince Bahman, after he had received the bowl, but I cannot follow\nit. However, I will endeavour to conform myself to that part of it\nwhich bids me not to look behind me as I go up, and I hope to come\nand see you again soon, and thank you more when I have got what I am\nin search after. After these words, to which the dervise made no\nother answer than that he should be overjoyed to see him again, and\nwished that might be the case, he mounted his horse, took his leave\nof the dervise with a low bow, and threw the bowl before him.\n\nThe bowl rolled away to the last with as much swiftness as when\nprince Bahman first delivered it out of his hand, which obliged him\nto put his horse to the same pace to follow it without losing sight\nof it, and when it came to the foot of the mountain which the\ndervise named, it stopped. The prince alighted from off his horse,\nwhich never stirred from the spot, though he had the bridle on his\nneck; and having first surveyed the mountain, and seen the black\nstones, he began to climb up it; but he had not gone four steps,\nbefore he heard the voices mentioned by the dervise, though he could\nsee nobody. Some said, Where is that fool going? where is he going?\nwhat would he have? do not let him pass. Others, Stop him, catch\nhim, kill him; and others with a voice like thunder, Thief!\nassassin! murderer! while some in a gibing tone, cried, No, no, do\nnot hurt him; let the pretty fellow pass; the cage and bird are kept\nfor him.\n\nNotwithstanding all those troublesome voices, prince Bahman mounted\nwith courage and resolution for some time, but the voices increasing\nwith so loud a din so near him, both behind and before, at last he\nwas seized with fear, his legs trembled under him, he staggered, and\npresently finding that his strength failed him, he forgot the\ndervise\u2019s advice, turned about to run down the hill, and was that\ninstant changed into a black stone, --a metamorphosis which had\nhappened to so many before him, who had attempted the same thing.\nHis horse likewise underwent the same change.\n\nFrom the time of prince Bahman\u2019s departure, the princess Parizade\nalways wore the knife and sheath in her girdle, and pulled it out\nseveral times in a day to know whether her brother was alive. She\nhad the consolation to understand he was in perfect health, and to\ntalk of him frequently with prince Perviz, who sometimes prevented\nher by asking her what news.\n\nOn the fatal day that prince Bahman was metamorphosed into a stone,\nas prince Perviz and the princess were talking together in the\nevening, as usual, the prince desired his sister to pull out the\nknife, to know how their brother did. The princess drew out the\nknife, and looking upon it, and seeing the blood run down the point,\nwas seized with so much horror and grief, that she threw it down.\nAh! my dear brother, cried she; I have been the cause of your death,\nand shall never see you more! How unhappy am I! Why did I tell you\nof the speaking bird, singing tree, and yellow water? or rather, of\nwhat importance was it to me to know whether the religious woman\nthought this house ugly or handsome, or complete or not? I wish to\nheaven she had never addressed herself to me! Deceitful hypocrite!\nadded she, is this the return you have made me for the kind\nreception I gave you? Why did you tell me of a bird, a tree, and a\nwater, which, imaginary as I am persuaded they are, by my dear\nbrother\u2019s death, yet disturb me, by your enchantment.\n\nPrince Perviz was as much afflicted at the death of prince Bahman as\nthe princess; but not to waste time in needless regret, as he knew\nby the princess\u2019s sorrow that she still passionately desired the\npossession of the speaking bird, the singing tree, and the golden\nwater, he interrupted her, and said, Sister, our regret for our\nbrother Bahman is vain and useless, for our grief and lamentations\ncannot restore him to life; it is the will of God, and we must\nsubmit to it, and adore the decrees of the Almighty, without\nsearching into them. Why should you now doubt of the truth of what\nthe holy woman told you? do you think she spoke to you of three\nthings that were not in being? and that she invented them on purpose\nto deceive you, who had given her no cause to do so, but received\nher with so much goodness and civility? Let us rather believe that\nour brother\u2019s death is owing to some fault of his, or some\naccident, which we cannot conceive. It ought not therefore to\nprevent us from pursuing our object. I offered to go this journey,\nand am in the same mind still; his example has no effect upon my\nresolution; to-morrow I will go myself.\n\nThe princess did all she could to dissuade prince Perviz, conjuring\nhim not to expose her to the danger of losing two brothers instead\nof one; but he was resolved, and all the remonstrances she could\nurge had no effect upon him. Before he went, that she might know\nwhat success he had, as she did that of his brother by the knife, he\nleft her a string of a hundred pearls, telling her, that if they\nwould not run when she told them upon the string, but remain fixed,\nthat should be a certain sign he had undergone the same late as his\nbrother; but at the same time told her, he hoped that would never\nhappen, but that he should have the happiness to see her again, to\ntheir mutual satisfaction.\n\nPrince Perviz, on the twentieth day from his setting out, met with\nthe same dervise in the same place his brother Bahman had done\nbefore him. He went directly up to him, and after he had saluted\nhim, asked him if he could tell him where to find the speaking bird,\nthe singing tree, and the golden water? The dervise made the same\ndifficulties and remonstrances he had done to prince Bahman, telling\nhim, that a young gentleman, who very much resembled him, was with\nhim a short time before; that, overcome by his importunity and\npressing instances, he showed him the way, gave turn a guide, and\ntold him how he should act to succeed; but that he had not seen him\nsince, and doubted not but he had shared the same fate as all before\nhim.\n\nGood dervise, answered prince Perviz, I know whom you speak of; he\nwas my elder brother, and I am informed of the certainty of his\ndeath, but know not what it was. I can tell you, replied the\ndervise: he was changed into a black stone, as all I speak of have\nbeen; and you must expect the same change, unless you observe more\nexactly than he has done the good advice I gave him, in case you\npersist in your resolution, which I once more entreat you to\nrenounce.\n\nDervise, said prince Perviz, I cannot enough express how much I am\nobliged to you for the care you take of my life, who am a stranger\nto you, and have done nothing to deserve your kindness: but I must\ntell you, I have thoroughly considered this enterprise before I\nundertook it, and I cannot give it up: therefore I beg of you to do\nme the same favour you have done my brother. Perhaps I may have\nbetter success in following the directions I expect from you. Since\nI cannot prevail with you, said the dervise, nor persuade you to\ngive up your obstinate resolution, if my age did not prevent me, and\nI could stand, I would get up to reach you a bowl I have here, which\nwill show you the way.\n\nWithout giving the dervise time to say more, the prince alighted\nfrom his horse, and went up to the dervise, who had taken a bowl out\nof his bag, in which he had a great many others, and gave it him,\nwith the same directions he had given prince Bahman; and, after\nwarning him not to be frightened at the voices he should hear,\nwithout seeing any body, however threatening they might be, but to\ncontinue his way up the hill till he saw the cage and bird, he let\nhim go.\n\nPrince Perviz thanked the dervise, and when he had remounted his\nhorse, and taken his leave, he threw the bowl before his horse, and\nspurring him at the same time, followed it. When the bowl came to\nthe bottom of the hill, it stopped, and the prince got off his\nhorse, and stood some time to recollect the dervise\u2019s directions.\nHe encouraged himself, and began to walk up with a resolution to\nreach the top; but before he had gone above six steps, he heard a\nvoice, which seemed to be very near him, as of a man behind him,\nsay, in an insulting tone, Stay, rash youth, that I may punish you\nfor your boldness.\n\nUpon this affront, the prince forgetting the dervise\u2019s advice,\nclapped his hand upon his sword and drew it, and turned about to\nrevenge himself; but had scarce time to see that nobody followed\nhim, before he and his horse were changed into black stones.\n\nIn the mean time the princess Parizade, several times a day after\nher brother Perviz set out, strung over her chaplet which she\nreceived from his hand the day he set out; and when she had nothing\nelse to do, she told the grains over her fingers, one after another.\nShe did not omit it at night, but when she went to bed put it about\nher neck; and in the morning when she awoke, counted over the pearls\nagain to see if they would slide.\n\nThe day that prince Perviz was changed into a stone, she was pulling\nover the pearls as she used to do, when all of a sudden she could\nnot stir them, and never doubted that it was a certain token that\nthe prince her brother was dead. As she had determined before what\nto do, in case it should so happen, she lost no time in outward show\nof grief, which she concealed as much as possible; but having\ndisguised herself in man\u2019s apparel, armed and equipped, she\nmounted her horse the next morning, having told her servants she\nshould return in two or three days, and took the same road her\nbrothers had done before her.\n\nThe princess, who had been used to ride on horseback in hunting,\nsupported the fatigue of so long a journey better than other ladies\ncould have done; and as she made the same days\u2019 journeys as her\nbrothers, she also met with the dervise on the twentieth day. When\nshe came near him, she alighted off her horse, and leading him by\nthe bridle, went and sat down by the dervise, and after she had\nsaluted him, she said, Good dervise, give me leave to rest myself by\nyou; and do me the favour to tell me if you have not heard that\nthere are somewhere hereabouts a speaking bird, a singing tree, and\ngolden water.\n\nMadam, answered the dervise, for so I must call you, since by your\nvoice I know you to be a woman disguised in man\u2019s apparel, I thank\nyou for your compliment, and receive the honour you do me with great\npleasure. I know the place very well where these things you speak of\nare to be found: but what makes you ask me this question?\n\nGood dervise, replied the princess, I have had such an advantageous\nrelation of them given me, that I have a very great desire to\npossess them. --Madam, replied the dervise, you have been told the\ntruth. These things are more singular and surprising than they have\nbeen represented to you, but you have not been acquainted with the\ndifficulties which must be surmounted in order to obtain them. If\nyou had been fully informed of them, you would not have undertaken\nso troublesome and dangerous an enterprise. Take my advice; go no\nfarther; return, and do not urge me to contribute towards your ruin.\n\nGood father, said the princess, I have come a great way, and should\nbe sorry to return home without executing my design. You talk of\ndifficulties, and danger of my life; but you do not tell me what\nthose difficulties are, and wherein the danger consists. This is\nwhat I desire to know, that I may consider of it, and judge whether\nI can or cannot trust my courage and strength to undertake it.\n\nThen the dervise repeated to the princess Parizade what he had said\nto the princes Bahman and Perviz, exaggerating the difficulties of\nclimbing up to the top of the mountain, where she was to make\nherself mistress of the bird, which would inform her of the singing\ntree and golden water; the noise and din of the terrible threatening\nvoices which she would hear on all sides of her, without seeing any\nbody; and in short, the great quantity of black stones, alone\nsufficient to strike terror into her and every one else. He\nentreated her to reflect, that those stones were so many brave\ngentlemen, so metamorphosed, for omitting to observe the principal\ncondition for success in that undertaking, which was, not to look\nbehind them before they had got possession of the cage.\n\nWhen the dervise had done, the princess replied, By what I\ncomprehend from your discourse, the difficulty of succeeding in this\naffair is, first, the getting up to the cage, without being\nfrightened at the terrible din of voices I shall hear; and secondly,\nnot to look behind me: for this last, I hope I shall be mistress\nenough of myself to observe it. As to the first, I own that those\nvoices, such as you represent them to be, are capable of striking\nterror into the most undaunted; but as in all enterprises and\ndangers every one may use contrivance, I desire to know of you if I\nmay make use of it in one of so great importance to me? And what is\nthat you would make use of, said the dervise. To stop my ears with\ncotton, answered the princess, that the voices, however loud and\nterrible they may be, may make less impression on my imagination,\nand my mind may remain free from that disturbance which might make\nme lose the use of my reason.\n\nMadam, replied the dervise, of all the persons who have addressed\nthemselves to me, to ask the way, I do not know that ever any one\nmade use of the contrivance you propose. All I know is, they all\nperished. If you persist in your design, you may make the\nexperiment. You will be fortunate if it succeeds; but I would advise\nyou not to expose yourself to the danger.\n\nMy good father, replied the princess, nothing prevents my persisting\nin my design. I am sure my contrivance will succeed, and am resolved\nto try the experiment. Nothing remains for me but to know which way\nI must go, a favour I conjure you not to refuse me. The dervise\nexhorted her again, for the last time, to consider well what she was\ngoing to do; but finding her resolute, he took out a bowl, and\npresenting it to her, said, Take this bowl; mount your horse again,\nand when you have thrown it before you, follow it through all its\nwindings, till it stops at the bottom of the mountain, and there do\nyou stop, light off your horse, and ascend the mountain. Go, you\nknow the rest; but be sure not to forget to avail yourself of what I\nhave told you.\n\nAfter the princess Parizade had thanked the dervise, and taken her\nleave of him, she mounted her horse, threw the bowl before her, and\nfollowed it till it stopped at the foot of the mountain.\n\nThe princess alighted from her horse, stopped her ears with cotton;\nand after she had well examined the way she was to keep to get up to\nthe top, she began with a moderate pace, and walked up with\nintrepidity. She heard the voices, and perceived the great service\nthe cotton was to her. The higher she went, the louder and more\nnumerous the voices seemed; but they were not capable of making any\nimpression on her. She heard a great many affronting speeches, and\nraillery very disagreeable to a woman, which she only laughed at. I\nmind not, said she to herself, all that can be said, were it worse;\nI only laugh at them, and shall pursue my way. At last she got so\nhigh, that she began to perceive the cage and bird, which\nendeavoured, with the voices, to frighten her, crying in a\nthundering voice, notwithstanding the smallness of its size, Retire,\nfool, and come no higher.\n\nThe princess, encouraged more by this object, redoubled her haste,\nand soon saw herself just at her journey\u2019s end; she got to the top\nof the mountain, where the ground was level; and running directly to\nthe cage, and clapping her hand upon it, cried, Bird, I have you, in\nspite of you, and you shall not escape me.\n\nWhen the princess Parizade was pulling the cotton out of her ears,\nthe bird said to her, Brave lady, be not angry with me for joining\nwith those who exerted themselves to preserve my liberty. Though\nkept in a cage, I was content with my condition; but since I am\ndestined to be a slave, I would rather be yours than any other\nperson\u2019s in the world, since you have obtained me so courageously\nand so worthily. From this instant I swear inviolable fidelity to\nyou, and an entire submission to your commands. I know who you are,\nand will tell you. You do not know yourself who you are; but the\ntime will come when I shall do you a piece of service, which I hope\nyou will think yourself obliged to me for. For a proof of my\nsincerity, tell me what you desire, and I am ready to obey you.\n\nThe princess\u2019s joy was the more inexpressible, because the\nconquest she had made had cost her the lives of two beloved\nbrothers, and given her more trouble and danger than she could have\nimagined before she tried it, notwithstanding what the dervise had\nrepresented to her. Bird, said she, it was my intention to have told\nyou that I wish for many things which are of the last importance to\nme; and am overjoyed that you have shown your good will, and\nprevented me. I have been told that there is not far off a golden\nwater, the property of which is very wonderful; before all things, I\nask you to tell me where it is. The bird showed her the place, which\nwas just by, and she went and filled a little silver flagon which\nshe had brought along with her. She returned to the bird, and said,\nBird, this is not enough; I want also the singing tree: tell me\nwhere it is. Turn about, said the bird, and you will see behind you\na wood, where you will find this tree. The princess went into the\nwood, and by the harmonious concert she heard, soon knew the tree\namong many others, but it was very large and high. She came back to\nthe bird, and said to it, Bird, I have found the singing tree, but I\ncan neither pull it up by the roots nor carry it. The bird replied,\nIt is not necessary that you should take it up by the roots; it is\nenough that you break off a branch, and carry it to plant in your\ngarden: it will take root as soon as it is put into the earth, and\nin a little time will grow to as fine a tree as this you see.\n\nWhen the princess Parizade had in her hand the three things which\nthe religious woman had told her of, and for which she had conceived\nso great a desire, she said again to the bird, Bird, all you have\ndone for me yet is not enough. You have been the cause of the death\nof my two brothers, who must be among the black stones which I saw\nas I came up the hill. I wish to take them home with me.\n\nThe bird seemed reluctant to satisfy the princess in this point,\nand, indeed, made some difficulty to do it. Bird, said the princess,\nremember you told me that you were my slave. You are so; and your\nlife is at my disposal. I cannot controvert that truth, answered the\nbird; but, although what you now ask of me is more difficult than\nall the rest, yet I will do it for you. --Cast your eyes around,\nadded he, and look if you can see a little pitcher. I see it\nalready, said the princess. Take it, then, said he, and as you go\ndown the hill, spill a little of the water that is in it upon every\nblack stone, and that will be the way to find your brothers again.\n\nThe princess Parizade took up the pitcher, and carried with her the\ncage and bird, the flagon of golden water, and the branch of the\nsinging tree; and as she went down the hill, spilt a little of the\nwater on every black stone, which was changed immediately into a\nman; and as she did not miss one stone, all the horses, both of the\nprinces her brothers, and of the other gentlemen, resumed their\nformer shape. She presently knew prince Bahman and prince Perviz, as\nthey did her, and ran to embrace her. She returned their embraces,\nand expressed her amazement. What do you here, my dear brothers?\nsaid she. They told her they had been asleep. Yes, replied she, and\nif it had not been for me, perhaps you might have slept till the day\nof judgment. Do not you remember that you came here to fetch the\nspeaking bird, the singing tree, and the yellow water? and did not\nyou see, as you came along, the place covered with black stones?\nLook and see if there be any now. The gentlemen you see here, and\ntheir horses which surround us, and you yourselves, were these black\nstones. If you desire to know how this wonder was performed,\ncontinued she, showing the pitcher, which she set down at the foot\nof the mountain, having no further use for it, it was done by virtue\nof the water which was in this pitcher, with which I sprinkled every\nstone. After I had made this speaking bird (which you see in this\ncage) my slave, by his directions I found out the singing tree, a\nbranch of which I have now in my hand, and the yellow water, which\nthis flagon is filled with; but being still unwilling to return home\nwithout taking you with me, I constrained the bird, by the power I\nhad over him, to afford me the means. He told me where to find this\npitcher, and the use I was to make of it.\n\nPrince Bahman and prince Perviz knew by this discourse the\nobligation they had to the princess their sister, as did all the\nother gentlemen, who were collected round, and heard all that was\nsaid; and expressed to the princes, that, far from envying her\nhappiness in the conquest she had made, and which they all aspired\nto, they thought that they could not any otherwise acknowledge the\nfavour she had done them, or better express their gratitude to her\nfor restoring them to life again, than by declaring themselves all\nher slaves, and that they were ready to obey her in whatever she\nshould command.\n\nGentlemen, replied the princess, if you had given any attention to\nmy discourse, you might have observed, that I had no other intention\nin what I have done than to find out my brothers again; therefore,\nif you have received any benefit, you have no obligation to me for\nit, and I have no further share in your compliment than your\npoliteness towards me, and I return you my thanks, as I ought. In\nother respects, I look upon each of you individually as persons\nfree, as you were before your misfortunes; and I rejoice with you\nfor the happiness which has accrued to you by my means. Let us,\nhowever, stay no longer in a place where we have nothing to detain\nus, but mount our horses, and return to our respective homes.\n\nThe princess Parizade showed them the way. She went and took her\nhorse, which stood in the same place where she left him. Before she\nmounted, prince Bahman, who would help her, desired her to give him\nthe cage to carry. Brother, replied the princess, the bird is my\nslave, and I will carry him myself; if you will take the pains to\ncarry the branch of the singing tree, there it is; only hold the\ncage while I get on horseback. When she had mounted her horse, and\nprince Bahman had given her the cage, she turned about, and said to\nprince Perviz, I leave the flagon of golden water to your care, if\nit will not be too much trouble for you to carry. Prince Perviz took\ncharge of it with pleasure.\n\nWhen prince Bahman and prince Perviz, and all the gentlemen, had\nmounted their horses, the princess Parizade waited for some of them\nto lead the way. The two princes paid that compliment to the\ngentlemen, and they again to the princess, who, finding that none of\nthem would accept of the honour, but that it was reserved for her,\naddressed herself to them, and said, Gentlemen, I expect that some\nof you should lead the way; to which one who was nearest to her, in\nthe name of the rest, replied, Madam, were we ignorant of the\nrespect due to your sex, yet, after what you have done for us, there\nis no respect we would not willingly pay you, notwithstanding your\nmodesty; we entreat you no longer to deprive us of the happiness of\nfollowing you.\n\nGentlemen, said the princess, I do not deserve the honour you do me,\nand accept it only because you desire it. At the same time, she led\nthe way, and the two princes and gentlemen followed her without the\nleast distinction.\n\nThis illustrious company called upon the dervise, as they passed by,\nto thank him for his good reception and wholesome advice, which they\nall found to be sincere. But he was dead; whether of old age, or\nbecause he was no longer necessary to show the way to the obtaining\nthe three rarities which the princess Parizade was possessed of, did\nnot appear. They pursued their way, but lessened in their numbers\nevery day. The gentlemen, who, as we said before, had come from\ndifferent countries, after severally repeating their obligations to\nthe princess and her brothers, took leave of them one after another\nas they approached the road by which they had come. The princess and\nthe two princes made the best of their way home.\n\nAs soon as the princess came home, she placed the cage in the\ngarden, just by the hall; and the bird no sooner began to sing, but\nhe was surrounded by nightingales, chaffinches, larks, linnets,\ngoldfinches, and a great many birds of the country. As for the\nbranch of the singing tree, it was no sooner set in the midst of the\nparterre, a little distance from the house, but it took root, and in\na short time became a large tree; the leaves of which soon gave as\nharmonious a concert as those of the tree from which it was\ngathered. As to the flagon of the yellow golden water, a large basin\nof beautiful marble was made in the midst of the parterre; and when\nit was finished, the princess poured into it all the yellow water\nthat was in the flagon, which increased and swelled so much, that it\nsoon reached up to the edges of the basin, and afterwards formed in\nthe middle a fountain twenty feet high, which fell again into the\nbasin perpetually, without running over.\n\nThe report of these wonders was presently spread abroad in that\nneighbourhood; and as the doors of the house and those of the\ngardens were shut to nobody, a great number of people came to admire\nthem.\n\nSome days after, when the princes Bahman and Perviz had recovered\nfrom the fatigue of their journeys, they resumed their former way of\nliving; and as their usual diversion was hunting, they mounted their\nhorses, and went for the first time since their return, not in their\nown park, but two or three leagues from their house. As they pursued\ntheir sport, the sultan of Persia came up hunting on the same spot\nof ground that they had made choice of. When they perceived by the\nnumber of horsemen in different places that he would soon be up,\nthey resolved to leave off their chase, and retire to avoid meeting\nhim; but in the very road they took, they chanced to meet him in so\nnarrow a way, that they could not turn away nor retreat without\nbeing seen. In their surprise, they had only time to alight, and\nprostrate themselves before the sultan, without lifting up their\nheads to look at him. The sultan, who saw they were as well mounted\nand dressed as if they had belonged to his court, had the curiosity\nto see their faces. He stopped, and commanded them to rise. The\nprinces rose up, and stood before the sultan with an easy and\ngraceful air, accompanied with respectful, modest countenances. The\nsultan took some time to view them from head to foot, before he\nspoke; and after he had admired their good air and mien, he asked\nthem who they were, and where they lived.\n\nSir, said prince Bahman, we are the sons of your majesty\u2019s late\nintendant of your gardens; and we live in a house which he built, a\nlittle before he died, for us to live in, till we should be fit to\nserve your majesty, and ask of you some employment when opportunity\noffered.\n\nBy what I perceive from you, replied the sultan, you love hunting.\nSir, answered prince Bahman, it is our common exercise, and what\nnone of your majesty\u2019s subjects, who intend to bear arms in your\narmies, ought, according to the ancient custom of the kingdom, to\nneglect. The sultan, charmed with so prudent an answer, said, Since\nit is so, I should be glad to see you hunt game; make choice of what\nyou like.\n\nThe princes mounted their horses again, and followed the sultan; but\nhad not gone far before they met a great many wild beasts together.\nPrince Bahman chose a lion, and prince Perviz a bear; and pursued\nthem with so much intrepidity, that the sultan was surprised. They\ncame up with their game nearly at the same time, and darted their\njavelins with so much skill and address, that they pierced, the one\nthe lion, and the other the bear, through and through, so that the\nsultan, with his own eyes, saw them fall a little time one after the\nother. Immediately afterwards prince Bahman pursued another bear,\nand prince Perviz another lion, and killed them in a short time, and\nwould have beat out for fresh game, but the sultan would not let\nthem, but sent to them to come to him. When they came near him, he\nsaid, If I would have given you leave, you would soon have destroyed\nall my game: but it is not that which I would preserve, but your\npersons; for I am so very well assured your bravery may one time or\nother be serviceable to me, that from this moment your lives will be\nalways dear to me.\n\nThe sultan Khosrouschah, in short, conceived so great a kindness for\nthe two princes, that he invited them immediately to make him a\nvisit; to which prince Bahman replied, Your majesty does us an\nhonour we do not deserve; and we beg you will excuse us.\n\nThe sultan, who could not comprehend what reason the princes could\nhave to refuse this token of his favour, asked and pressed them to\ntell him why they excused themselves. Sir, said prince Bahman, we\nhave a sister younger than us, with whom we live in so perfect a\nunion, that we undertake and do nothing before we consult her, nor\nshe any thing without asking our advice. I commend your brotherly\naffection, answered the sultan. Consult your sister, meet me here\nto-morrow hunting, and give me an answer.\n\nThe princes went home; but not only forgot to speak of their\nadventure in meeting the sultan, and hunting with him, but to tell\nthe princess the honour he had done them, by asking them to go home\nwith him; yet did not the next morning fail to meet him at the place\nappointed. Well, said the sultan, have you spoken to your sister?\nAnd has she consented to the pleasure I expect of seeing you? The\nprinces looked at each other and blushed. Sir, said prince Bahman,\nwe beg your majesty to excuse us; for both my brother and I forgot.\nThen remember to-day, replied the sultan, and be sure to bring me an\nanswer to-morrow.\n\nThe princes were guilty of the same fault a second time, and the\nsultan was so good-natured as to forgive their negligence; but to\nprevent their forgetfulness the third time, he pulled three little\ngolden balls out of a purse, and put them into prince Bahman\u2019s\nbosom. These balls, said he, smiling, will prevent your forgetting a\nthird time what I wish you to do for my sake; since the noise they\nwill make by falling on the floor, when you undress yourself, will\nremind you, if you do not recollect it before. The event happened\njust as the sultan foresaw; and without these balls the princes had\nnot thought of speaking to their sister of this affair. For as\nprince Bahman unloosed his girdle to go to bed, the balls dropped on\nthe floor, and thereupon he ran into prince Perviz\u2019s chamber, and\nboth went to princess Parizade\u2019s apartment before she was got into\nbed, and after they had asked her pardon for coming at so\nunseasonable a time, they told her all the circumstances of their\nmeeting the sultan.\n\nThe princess Parizade was somewhat surprised at this news. Your\nmeeting with the sultan, said she, is very happy and honourable, and\nmay in the end be very advantageous to you, but it is very\ndisagreeable and distressing to me. It was on my account, I know,\nyou refused the sultan, and I am infinitely obliged to you for it. I\nknow by this your friendship is perfectly consistent with mine,\nsince you would rather be guilty of incivility towards the sultan,\nthan break the brotherly union we have sworn to each other. You\njudged right, that if you had once gone, you would insensibly have\nbeen engaged to leave me, to devote yourselves to him. But do you\nthink it an easy matter absolutely to refuse the sultan what he\nseems so earnestly to desire? Sultans will be obeyed in their\ndesires, and it may be dangerous to oppose them; therefore, if to\nfollow my inclination, I should dissuade you from showing the\ncomplaisance he expects from you, it may expose you to his\nresentment, and may render myself and you miserable. These are my\nsentiments: but before we conclude on any thing, let us consult the\nspeaking bird, and hear what he says; he is penetrating, and has\npromised his assistance in all difficulties.\n\nThe princess Parizade sent for the cage, and after she had related\nthe fact to the bird in the presence of her brothers, she asked him\nwhat they should do in this perplexity. The bird answered, The\nprinces your brothers must conform to the sultan\u2019s pleasure, and\nin their turn invite him to come and see your house.\n\nBut, bird, replied the princess, my brothers and I love one another,\nand our friendship is unparalleled: will not this step be injurious\nto that friendship? Not at all, replied the bird; it will become\nstronger thereby. Then, answered the princess, the sultan will see\nme. The bird told her it was necessary he should see her, and that\nevery thing would go better afterwards.\n\nNext morning the princes met the sultan hunting, who, at as great a\ndistance as he could make himself be heard, asked them, if they had\nremembered to speak to their sister. Prince Bahman drew near, and\nanswered, Sir, your majesty may dispose of us as you please; we are\nready to obey you; for we have not only obtained our sister\u2019s\nconsent with great ease, but she took it amiss that we should pay\nher that deference in a matter wherein our duty to your majesty was\nconcerned. But she is so deserving of it, that if we have offended,\nwe hope you will pardon us. Do not be uneasy upon that account,\nreplied the sultan; so far from taking amiss what you have done, I\napprove of it, and hope you will have the same deference and\nattachment to my person, if I have ever so little share in your\nfriendship. The princes, confounded at the sultan\u2019s goodness,\nreturned no other answer but by a low bow, to show the great respect\nwith which they received it.\n\nThe sultan, contrary to his usual custom, did not hunt long that\nday. Presuming that the princes possessed wit equal to their courage\nand bravery, he longed with impatience to discourse with them more\nat liberty. He made them ride on each side of him, an honour which,\nwithout speaking of the principal courtiers who accompanied him, was\nenvied by the grand vizier, who was very much mortified to see them\npreferred before him.\n\nWhen the sultan entered his capital, the eyes of the people, who\nstood in crowds in the streets, were fixed only upon the two princes\nBahman and Perviz; and they were earnest to know who they might be,\nwhether foreigners or natives.\n\nAll, however, agreed in wishing that the sultan had been blessed\nwith two such handsome lovely princes, and said, he might have had\nchildren as old, if the sultaness, who had suffered the punishment\nof her misfortune, had been more fortunate in her lyings-in.\n\nThe first thing that the sultan did when he arrived at the palace,\nwas to carry the princes into the principal apartments; who praised,\nwithout affectation, like persons conversant in such matters, the\nbeauty and symmetry of the rooms, and the richness of the furniture\nand ornaments. Afterwards a magnificent repast was served up, and\nthe sultan made them sit at the same table with him, which they at\nfirst refused; but finding that it was his pleasure they obeyed.\n\nThe sultan, who had himself a great deal of wit, and had made a\nconsiderable progress in the sciences, and particularly in history,\nforesaw that the princes, out of modesty and respect, would not take\nthe liberty of beginning any conversation. Therefore, to give them\nan opportunity, he began, and furnished them with subjects all\ndinner-time. But whatever he turned the discourse on, they showed so\nmuch wit, judgment, and discernment, that he was struck with\nadmiration. Were these my own children said he to himself, and I had\nimproved their talents by suitable education, they could not have\nbeen more ingenious or better informed. In short, he took so great\npleasure in their conversation, that after having sat at table\nlonger than usual, he went into his closet, where he discoursed a\nlong time with them, and at last said to them, I never believed that\nthere were, among my subjects in the country, young gentlemen so\nwell brought up, so lively, so capable; and I never was better\npleased in my life with any conversation than yours: but it is time\nnow we should regale our minds with some diversions of my court; and\nas nothing is more capable of enlivening the mind than music, you\nshall hear a vocal and instrumental concert, which may not be\ndisagreeable to you.\n\nThe sultan no sooner spoke for them, but the musicians, who had\norders to attend, entered, and answered fully the expectations the\nprinces had entertained of their abilities. After the concerts, an\nexcellent farce was acted, and the entertainment was concluded by\ndancers of both sexes.\n\nThe two princes, seeing night drawing on apace, prostrated\nthemselves at the sultan\u2019s feet; and having first thanked him for\nthe favours and honours he had heaped on them, asked his leave to\nretire; which was granted them by the sultan, who, dismissing them,\nsaid, I give you leave to go; but remember I brought you to the\npalace myself only to show you the way; you will be always welcome,\nand the oftener you come, you will do me the greater pleasure.\n\nBefore they went out of the sultan\u2019s presence, prince Bahman said,\nSir, may we presume to request that your majesty will do us and our\nsister the favour to pass by our house, and rest and refresh\nyourself after your fatigue, the first time you take the diversion\nof hunting in that neighbourhood? It is not worthy your presence;\nbut monarchs sometimes have vouchsafed to take shelter in a cottage.\nGentlemen, replied the sultan, your house cannot be otherwise than\nbeautiful, and worthy of you. I will call and see it with pleasure,\nwhich will be the greater, to have for my hosts you and your sister,\nwho is already dear to me before I have seen her, from the account\nyou give me of the rare qualities with which she is endowed: and\nthis satisfaction I will defer no longer than to-morrow morning. I\nwill be early there to-morrow morning, at the same place where I\nshall never forget that I first saw you. Meet me, and you shall be\nmy guides.\n\nWhen the princes Bahman and Perviz went home, they gave the princess\nParizade an account of the honourable reception the sultan had given\nthem; and withal told her that they had invited him to do them the\nhonour, as he passed by, to call at their house; and that he had\nappointed the next day.\n\nIf it be so, replied the princess, we must think presently of\npreparing a repast fit for his majesty; and for that end, I think it\nwould be proper we should consult the speaking bird; he will tell\nus, perhaps, what meats the sultan likes best. The princes approved\nof her thought, and after they retired she consulted the bird alone.\nBird, said she, the sultan will do us the honour to-morrow to come\nand see our house, and we are to entertain him; tell us what we\nshall do to acquit ourselves to his satisfaction.\n\nGood mistress, replied the bird, you have excellent cooks, let them\ndo the best they can; but above all things, let them prepare a dish\nof cucumbers, stuffed full of pearls, which must be set before the\nsultan in the first course before all other meats.\n\nCucumbers stuffed full of pearls! cried princess Parizade, with\namazement; surely, bird, you do not know what you say; it is an\nunheard-of dish. The sultan may admire it as a piece of\nmagnificence, but he will sit down to table to eat, and not to\nadmire pearls; besides, the pearls I am worth are not enough for\nsuch a dish.\n\nMistress, said the bird, do what I say, and be not uneasy at what\nshall happen. Nothing but good will follow. As to the pearls, go\nearly to-morrow morning to the foot of the first tree on your right\nhand, in the park, and dig under it, and you will find more than you\nwant.\n\nThat night the princess ordered a gardener to be ready to wait on\nher, and the next morning early took him with her, and carried him\nto the tree the bird told her of, and bade him dig at its foot. When\nthe gardener came to a certain depth, he found some resistance to\nthe spade, and presently discovered a gold box about a foot square,\nwhich he showed the princess. This, said she, is what I brought you\nfor; take care not to hurt it with the spade.\n\nWhen the gardener took up the box, he gave it into the princess\u2019s\nhands, who, as it was only fastened with neat little hasps, soon\nopened it, and found it full of pearls of a moderate size; but equal\nand fit for the use that was to be made of them. Very well satisfied\nwith having found this treasure, after she had shut the box again,\nshe put it under her arm, and went back to the house, while the\ngardener threw the earth into the hole at the foot of the tree as\nbefore.\n\nThe princes Bahman and Perviz, who, as they were dressing themselves\nin their own apartments, saw the princess their sister in the garden\nearlier than usual, as soon as they could get out, went to her, and\nmet her as she was coming back, with a gold box under her arm, which\nvery much surprised them. Sister, said Bahman, you carried nothing\nwith you when we saw you before with the gardener, and now we see\nyou have got a golden box: is this some treasure found by the\ngardener, and did he come and tell you of it?\n\nNo, brother, answered the princess, I carried the gardener to the\nplace where this coffer was hid, and showed him where to dig: but\nyou will be more amazed when you see what it holds.\n\nThe princess opened the box, and when the princes saw it was full of\npearls, which, though small, were of great value, they asked her how\nshe came to the knowledge of this treasure. Brothers, said she, if\nnothing more pressing calls you elsewhere, come with me, and I will\ntell you. What more pressing business, said prince Perviz, can we\nhave than to be informed of what concerns us so much? We have\nnothing to do but meet you. The princess, as they returned back to\nthe house, gave them an account of her consulting the bird, as they\nhad agreed she should, and the answer he gave her; the objection she\nraised to preparing a dish of cucumbers stuffed full of pearls, and\npointed out the manner of doing it, and how he had told her where to\nfind this box. The princes and princess formed many conjectures to\npenetrate into what the bird could mean by ordering them to prepare\nsuch a dish; and after much conversation, though they could not by\nany means guess at his reason for so doing, they nevertheless agreed\nto follow his advice exactly.\n\nAs soon as the princess got into the house, she called for the head\ncook; and after she had given him directions about the entertainment\nfor the sultan, she said to him, Besides all this you must dress an\nextraordinary dish for the sultan\u2019s own eating, which nobody else\nmust have any thing to do with besides yourself. This dish must be\nof cucumbers stuffed with these pearls; and at the same time she\nopened the box, and showed him the pearls.\n\nThe chief cook, who had never heard of such a dish, started back,\nand showed by his looks his thoughts; which the princess penetrating\ninto, said, I see you take me to be mad to order such a dish, which\nyou never heard of, and which one may say with certainty was never\nmade. I know this as well as you; but I am not mad, and give you\nthese orders with the most perfect recollection. You must go and\ninvent and do the best you can, and bring me back what pearls are\nleft. The cook could make no reply, but took the box and went away\nwith it: and afterwards the princess gave directions to all the\nservants to have every thing in order, both in the house and\ngardens, to receive the sultan.\n\nNext day the two princes went to the place appointed; and as soon as\nthe sultan of Persia came, the chase began, which lasted till the\nheat of the sun obliged him to leave off. While prince Bahman stayed\nto conduct the sultan to their house, prince Perviz rode before to\nshow the way, and when he came in sight of the house, spurred his\nhorse, to inform the princess Parizade that the sultan was coming;\nbut she had been told by some servants whom she placed to give\nnotice before, and the prince found her waiting ready to receive him.\n\nWhen the sultan entered the court-yard, and alighted at the portico,\nthe princess Parizade came and threw herself at his feet, and the\ntwo princes informed him she was their sister, and besought him to\naccept of her respects.\n\nThe sultan stooped to help her up, and after he had gazed some time\non her beauty, and, struck with her good person, noble air, and a\n_je ne scai quoi_, which seemed different from the country where she\nlived, he said, The brothers are worthy of the sister, and she\nworthy of them; and to judge of her understanding by her person, I\nam not amazed that the brothers would do nothing without their\nsister\u2019s consent; but, added he, I hope to be better acquainted\nwith you, madam, after I have seen the house.\n\nSir, said the princess, it is only a plain country-house, fit for\nsuch people as we are, who live retired from the great world. It is\nnot to be compared with houses in great cities, much less with\nmagnificent palaces of sultans. I cannot perfectly agree with you in\nopinion, said the sultan, very obligingly, for its first appearance\nmakes me suspect you; however, I will not pass my judgment upon it\ntill I have seen it all; therefore be pleased to conduct me through\nthe apartments.\n\nThe princess led the sultan through all the rooms but the hall; and,\nafter he had considered them all very attentively, and admired their\nvariety, My fair one, said he to the princess Parizade, do you call\nthis a country-house? The finest and largest cities would soon be\ndeserted, if all country-houses were like yours. I am no longer\nsurprised that you take so much delight in it, and despise the town.\nNow let me see the garden, which I doubt not is answerable to the\nhouse.\n\nThe princess opened a door which led into the garden; and the first\nobject that presented itself to the sultan\u2019s view was the golden\nfountain. Surprised at so rare a sight, he asked from whence came\nthat wonderful water, which gave so much pleasure to behold; where\nwas its source? and by what art it was made to play so high, that he\nthought nothing in the world was to be compared to it? He said he\nwould presently take a nearer view of it.\n\nThen the princess led him to the spot where the harmonious tree was\nplanted; and there the sultan heard a concert, which was different\nfrom all the concerts he had ever heard in his life: and stopping to\nsee where the musicians were, he could discern nobody far nor near;\nbut still distinctly heard the music, which ravished his senses. My\nfair one, said he, to the princess Parizade, where are the musicians\nwhom I hear? Are they under ground, or invisible in the air? Such\nexcellent, charming voices, will hazard nothing by being seen; on\nthe contrary, they would please the more.\n\nSir, answered the princess smiling, it is not musicians, but the\ntree your majesty sees before you, which forms this concert; and if\nyou will give yourself the trouble to go a little nearer to it, you\nwill not doubt it, and the voices will be the more distinct.\n\nThe sultan went nearer, and was so charmed with the sweet harmony,\nthat he would never have been tired with hearing it, but that his\ndesire to have a nearer view of the fountain of yellow water forced\nhim away. Fair one, said he, tell me, I pray you, whether this\nwonderful tree was found in your garden by chance, or if it was a\npresent made to you, or have you procured it from some foreign\ncountry? It must certainly have come a great way off, otherwise,\ncurious as I am after natural rarities, I should have heard of it.\nWhat name do you call it by?\n\nSir, replied the princess, this tree has no other name than that of\nthe singing tree, and is not a native of this country. It will be\ntoo long to tell you by what adventures it came here; its history is\nconnected with the yellow water and the speaking bird, which came to\nme at the same time, and which your majesty may see after you have\ntaken a nearer view of the golden water. But if it be agreeable to\nyour majesty, after you have rested yourself, and recovered the\nfatigue of hunting, which must be the greater because of the sun\u2019s\nintense heat, I will do myself the honour of relating it to you.\n\nMy fair one, replied the sultan, my fatigue is so well recompensed\nby the wonderful things you have shown me, that I do not feel it in\nthe least. I think only of the trouble I give you. Let us finish by\nseeing the yellow water. I am impatient to see and admire the\nspeaking bird.\n\nWhen the sultan came to the yellow water, his eyes were fixed so\nstedfastly upon the fountain, that he could not take them off. At\nlast, addressing himself to the princess, he said, As you tell me,\nfair one, that this water has no spring or communication hereabouts,\nby any means whatsoever, I conclude that it is foreign, as well as\nthe singing tree.\n\nSir, replied the princess, it is as your majesty says; and to let\nyou know that this water has no communication with any spring, I\nmust inform you, that the basin is one entire stone, so that the\nwater cannot come in at the sides or underneath. But what your\nmajesty will think most wonderful is, that all this water proceeded\nbut from one flagon, which I emptied into this basin, which\nincreased of itself to the quantity you see, by a property peculiar\nto itself, and formed this fountain. Well, said the sultan, going\nfrom the fountain, this is enough for one time. I promise myself the\npleasure to come and visit it very often; but now let us go and see\nthe speaking bird.\n\nAs he went towards the hall, the sultan perceived a prodigious\nnumber of singing birds in the trees thereabouts, (filling the air\nwith their songs and warblings,) and asked why there were so many\nthere, and none on the other trees in the garden? The reason, sir,\nanswered the princess, is, because they come from all parts around\nto accompany the song of the speaking bird, which your majesty may\nperceive in a cage on one of the windows of the hall we are going\ninto; and if you attend, you will perceive that his notes are\nsweeter than those of all the other birds, even the nightingale\u2019s.\n\nThe sultan went into the hall; and as the bird continued singing,\nthe princess raised her voice, and said, My slave, here is the\nsultan; pay your compliments to him. The bird left off singing that\ninstant, and all the other birds ceased alternately, and said, The\nsultan is welcome here: God prosper him, and prolong his life! As\nthe entertainment was served on the sofa near the window where the\nbird was, the sultan replied, as he was sitting down at the table,\nBird, I thank you, and I am overjoyed to find in you the sultan and\nking of birds.\n\nAs soon as the sultan saw the dish of cucumbers set before him,\nthinking it was stuffed in the best manner, he reached out his hand\nand took one; but when he cut it, he was in an extreme surprise to\nfind it dressed with pearls. What novelty is this? said he; and with\nwhat design were these cucumbers stuffed thus with pearls, since\npearls are not to be eaten? Then he looked at the two princes and\nprincess, to ask them the meaning of it: when the bird, interrupting\nhim, said, Can your majesty be in so great astonishment at cucumbers\nstuffed with pearls, which you see with your own eyes, and yet could\nso easily believe that the sultaness your wife was delivered of a\ndog, a cat, and a piece of wood? I believed it, replied the sultan,\nbecause the midwives assured me of it. Those midwives, sir, replied\nthe bird, were the sultaness\u2019s two sisters, who, envious of her\nhappiness in being preferred by your majesty before them, to satisfy\ntheir envy and revenge, have abused your majesty so easily. If you\ninterrogate them, they will confess their crime. The two brothers\nand the sister whom you see before you, are your own children, whom\nthey exposed, and who were taken in by the intendant of your\ngardens, who provided nurses for them, and took care of their\neducation.\n\nThis discourse of the bird\u2019s presently cleared up the sultan\u2019s\nunderstanding. Bird, cried he, I easily believe the truth which you\ndiscover to me. The inclination which drew me to them, and the\ntenderness I have always had for them, told me but too plainly they\nare my own blood. Come then, my children, come, my daughter, let me\nembrace you, and give you the first marks of a father\u2019s love and\ntenderness. Then he rose up, and after having embraced the two\nprinces and the princess, and mingled his tears with theirs, he\nsaid, It is not enough, my children; you must embrace each other,\nnot as the children of the intendant of my gardens, to whom I have\nbeen very much obliged for preserving your lives, but as my own\nchildren, of the royal blood of the sultans of Persia, whose glory,\nI am persuaded, you will maintain.\n\nAfter the two princes and princess had embraced each other mutually\nwith new satisfaction, the sultan sat down to table again with them,\nand finished his meal in haste; and when he had done, he said, My\nchildren, you see in me your father: tomorrow I will bring the\nsultaness your mother, therefore prepare to receive her.\n\nAfterwards the sultan mounted his horse, and returned in all haste\nto his capital. The first thing he did, as soon as he alighted and\nentered his palace, was to command the grand vizier to try the\nsultaness\u2019s two sisters. They were taken from their houses\nseparately, convicted, and condemned to be quartered; which sentence\nwas put into execution within an hour.\n\nIn the mean time, the sultan Khosrouschah, followed by all the lords\nof his court who were then present, went on foot to the door of the\ngreat mosque; and after he had taken the sultaness out of the strict\nconfinement she had languished under for so many years, embracing\nher in the miserable condition she was then in, he said to her with\ntears in his eyes, I come, madam, to ask your pardon for the\ninjustice I have done you, and to make you the reparation I ought to\ndo; which I have begun, by punishing the persons who put the\nabominable cheat upon me; and I hope you will look upon it as\ncomplete, when I present to you two accomplished princes, and a\ncharming lovely princess, our children. Come and resume your former\nrank, with all the honours which are your due. All this was done and\nsaid before great crowds of people, who flocked from all parts at\nthe first news of what was passing, and immediately spread the news\nthrough the town.\n\nNext morning early, the sultan and sultaness, whose mournful\nhumiliating dress was changed into magnificent robes suitable to\nher, went with all their court to the house built by the intendant\nof the gardens, where the sultan presented the princes Bahman and\nPerviz, and the princess Parizade, to the sultaness. These, madam,\nsaid he, are the two princes your sons, and this princess your\ndaughter; embrace them with the same tenderness I have done, since\nthey are worthy both of me and you. The tears flowed plentifully\ndown their cheeks at these tender embraces, especially the\nsultaness\u2019s, for the comfort and joy of having two such princes\nfor her sons, and such a princess for her daughter, on whose\naccounts she had endured such afflictions so long.\n\nThe two princes and the princess had prepared a magnificent repast\nfor the sultan and sultaness, and their court. As soon as that was\nover, the sultan led the sultaness into the garden, and showed her\nthe harmonious tree and the beautiful effect of the yellow fountain.\nAs for the bird, she had seen him in his cage, and the sultan had\nspared no panegyric in his praise during the repast.\n\nWhen there was nothing to detain the sultan any longer, he took\nhorse again, and with the princes Bahman and Perviz on his right and\nleft hand, and the sultaness and the princess at his left, preceded\nand followed by all the officers of his court, according to their\nrank, returned to his capital. Crowds of people came out to meet\nthem, and with acclamations of joy ushered them into the city, where\nall eyes were fixed not only upon the sultaness, the two princes,\nand the princess, but also upon the bird, which the princess carried\nbefore her in his cage, admiring his sweet notes, which had drawn\nall the other birds about him, which followed him, flying from tree\nto tree in the country, and from one house-top to another in the\ncity. The princes Bahman and Perviz, and the princess Parizade, were\nat length brought to the palace with this pomp, and nothing was to\nbe seen or heard all that night but illuminations and rejoicings\nboth in the palace and in the utmost parts of the city, which lasted\nmany days.\n\nThe sultan of the Indies could not but admire the prodigious and\ninexhaustible memory of the sultaness his wife, who had entertained\nhim so many nights with so many different stories.\n\nA thousand and one nights had passed away in those innocent\namusements, which contributed so much towards removing the\nsultan\u2019s unhappy prejudice against the fidelity of women. His\ntemper was softened. He was convinced of the merit and great wisdom\nof the sultaness Scheherazade. He remembered with what courage she\nexposed herself voluntarily to be his wife, without fearing the\ndeath to which she knew she subjected herself, as the many\nsultanesses did before her.\n\nThese considerations, and the many other good qualities he knew her\nto be mistress of, induced him at last to forgive her. I see, lovely\nScheherazade, said he, that you can never be at a loss for this sort\nof little stories which have so long diverted me. You have appeased\nmy anger. I freely renounce, in your favour, the cruel law I had\nimposed on myself. I restore you completely to my favour, and will\nhave you be looked upon as the deliverer of the many damsels I had\nresolved to have sacrificed to my unjust resentment.\n\nThe sultaness cast herself at his feet, and embraced them tenderly\nwith all the marks of the most lively and perfect gratitude.\n\nThe grand vizier was the first that learned this agreeable news from\nthe sultan\u2019s own mouth. It presently was carried to the city,\ntowns, and provinces; and gained the sultan, and the lovely\nScheherazade, his consort, universal applause, and the blessings of\nall the people of the large empire of the Indies.\n\nTHE END\n\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes:\n\n\n[1] This game is played on horseback.\n\n[2] This introduction is not in the last French edition.\n\n[3] A sort of Mahometan Monks.\n\n[4] It is remarkable that the names of \u201cSindbad\u201d and\n\u201cHindbad\u201d are both derived from the old Persian language.\n\u201cBad\u201d signifies a city; \u201cSind\u201d and \u201cHind\u201d are the\nterritories on either side of the Indus. \u201cSind,\u201d indeed, is its\noriginal name, but \u201cHind\u201d is of those countries which lie\nbetwixt it and the Ganges. --Hole\n\n[5] A port in the Persian gulf.\n\n[6] These islands, according to the Arabians, are beyond China, and\nare so called from a tree which bears a fruit of that name. They\nare, without doubt, the isles of Japan; which are not, however, far\nfrom Abyssinia.\n\n[7] Mr. Hole, p. 27, says this is probably one of the three islands\nnear Ceylon, called Ilhas de Cavalos, from the wild horses, to which\nthe Dutch annually send mares to improve the breed. --Wolf\u2019s\nAccount of Ceylon; but p. 256 he alters his opinion.\n\n[8] We meet with king Mihrage in the accounts of India and China by\ntwo Mahomedan travellers in the ninth century, and the island of\nZapage, and the Friendly Islands, answers to Borneo. --Hole.\n\n[9] The same in one of the islands of Eolus. Perhaps the roaring of\nthe waves among the rocks. --Hole. Like the cave in Britain,\nmentioned by Clemens Alexandrinus, where the wind produced a sound\nas of cymbals.\n\n[10] Degial, with the Mahometans, is the same as Antichrist with us.\nAccording to them, he is to appear about the end of the world, and\nwill conquer all the earth, except Mecca, Medina, Tarsus, and\nJerusalem, which are to be preserved by angels which he shall set\nround them.\n\n[11] The sea serpents on the Malabar coast. --Hole.\n\n[12] Martini mentions fishes with birds\u2019 faces in the China seas.\n--Hole.\n\n[13] The Turkish sequin is about nine shillings sterling.\n\n[14] Marco Paolo, in his Travels, and Father Martini, in his History\nof China, speak of this bird called \u201cRuch,\u201d and say it will take\nup an elephant and a rhinoceros. See also Vigafetto, in Ramusio\u2019s\nCollection of Voyages, 1369. The combat between eagles and elephants\nis to be found in Pliny, Solinus, and Diodorus Siculus. --Hole.\n\n[15] Of serpents devoured by eagles, see Marco Paolo, hereafter\ncited. --Hole.\n\n[16] Epiphanius, in a treatise on the twelve stones in the Jewish\nhigh priest\u2019s breast-plate, tells a like story of the Jacinths in\nthe deserts of Scythia. Marco Paolo places it beyond Malabar, in a\nsituation which would suit Golconda. See also Benjamin of Tudela,\nwho travelled between 1160 and 1173. --Hole.\n\n[17] Ptolemy places the island of Satyrs, inhabited by cannibals, to\nthe eastward of the island of Sunda. --Hole.\n\n[18] These are described by William de Rubruquis, 1253, and supposed\nto be apes. --Hole.\n\n[19] The long-eared people, mentioned by Strabo and Pliny, vii. 2;\nand Marsden\u2019s History of Sumatra, p. 47. --Hole.\n\n[20] Without going back to the Cyclops in the ninth book of the\nOdyssey, Sir John Mandeville will furnish such one-eyed giants in\none of the Indian islands. --Hole.\n\n[21] It would seem the Arabian author has taken this story from\nHomer\u2019s Odyssey.\n\n[22] Possibly Timor, which Linschoten celebrates for its woods and\nwildernesses of sanders. Purchas\u2019 Pilgrims, ii. p. 1784. --Hole.\n\n[23] Ellian, Hist. An. xvi. 16. describes tortoises fifteen cubits\nlong, the shells big enough to cover a house; and Mandeville says\nthree men might hide under them in the island of Calonah, not far\nfrom Java. --Hole.\n\n[24] The hippopotamus.\n\n[25] The manatre.\n\n[26] In the sea of Andaman, or bay of Bengal, the Mahometan\ntravellers, in the ninth century, mention negro cannibals. Ptolemy\nplaces them in the same bay in the Nicobar island. -- Hole.\n\n[27] The lotus of Homer\u2019s Odyssey, the intoxicating \u201cseed\u201d of\nSumatra, mentioned by Davis, 1597; and the herb \u201cdutroa\u201d of\nLinschoten, or \u201cdutro\u201d of Lobo: \u201cdutry\u201d and \u201cbung,\u201d or\n\u201cbang,\u201d of Fryer. --Hole.\n\n[28] Sunda islands and Sumatra produce plenty of pepper and\ncocoa-nuts. -- Hole.\n\n[29] Mandeville mentions the burying the wives alive with the dead\nhusband, in the island of Calanack; and Jerom, the husband with the\nwives in Scythia. --Hole.\n\n[30] He was a Mahometan, and they allow polygamy.\n\n[31] See the escape of Aristomenes, in his life by Rowe. --Hole.\n\n[32] Now Ceylon. Serendib is Ceylon, and Kela is Cala or Calabar,\nwhere the Arabians touched in their way to China; so that it must\nhave been somewhere about the point of Malabar. --Renaudot.\n\n[33] Sugar-canes, or bamboo trees.\n\n[34] Bochart (Hieroz, vol. ii. p. 854) tells a story exactly\nsimilar, from Demur or Damur an Arabian writer, who died in 1405.\n\n[35] An ourang-outang. --Hole.\n\n[36] Grapes grow in the isles of Banda. Hain\u2019s Collect. i. 464.\n--Hole.\n\n[37] In the straits of Sunda. --Hole.\n\n[38] This island, or peninsula, ends at the cape which we now call\ncape Comorin. It is also called Comar, and Camor. The Mahometan\ntravellers say the king of Comar (whence they bring aloes) was\nsubdued by Mihrage. The inhabitants are very virtuous, and\ndebauchery with women, and the use of wine, are forbidden them.\nAccounts of India and China, p. 63.\n\n[39] There still is, and has been from time immemorial, a pearl\nfishery in the neighbourhood of cape Comorin. See Marco Paolo.\n--Hole.\n\n[40] Mr. Ives mentions wells of fresh water under the sea in the\nPersian gulf, near the island of Barien. --Hole.\n\n[41] Such fountains are not unfrequent in India and Ceylon, and the\nMahometan travellers speak of ambergris swallowed by whales, who are\nmade sick by, and regorge it. --Hole.\n\n[42] Ceylon.\n\n[43] Geographers place it on this side the line, in the first\nclimate. Diodorus Siculus, and Ptolemy, place it in the same island\nas Sindbad, though not the true one.\n\n[44] The eastern geographers made a parasang longer than a French\nleague.\n\n[45] Knox and Wolf confirm this account of the situation of Ceylon,\nand the productions of its mountains. Pico d\u2019Adam is the high\nmountain here described.\n\n[46] Yellow vellum, or the skin of the hog deer, from Prince\u2019s\nIsland, in the straits of Sunda. The elephants, rubies, &c. are\nillustrated by Mr. Hole.\n\n[47] Ceylon is known to produce large rubies, and the Indian ocean\nabounds in pearls of extraordinary size. --Hole.\n\n[48] There is a snake in Bengal, whose skin is esteemed a cure for\nexternal pains, by applying it to the part affected. --Hole.\n\n[49] Solomon.\n\n[50] An ancient king of a great island of the same name in the\nIndies, and very much famed among the Arabians for his power and\nwisdom.\n\n[51] A port on the Red Sea.\n\n[52] A town of Arabia.\n\n[53] A regular wind that blows six months from the east, and as many\nfrom the west.\n\n[54] This is the last interruption the stories will receive by being\ndivided into portions related on successive nights. The reader is\ntherefore to suppose that Scheherazade now continues speaking\nwithout being interrupted.\n\n[55] The Bermecides were a family that came out of Persia, and of\nthem the grand vizier was descended.\n\n[56] This word signifies in Arabic, Basilick, an odoriferous plant:\nand the Arabians call their slaves by this name, as the custom in\nFrance is to give the name of Jessamin to a footman.\n\n[57] Nourreddin signifies in Arabic the light of religion.\n\n[58] Bedreddin signifies the full moon of religion.\n\n[59] That is to say, the sun of religion.\n\n[60] All the eastern nations lie in their drawers, but this\ncircumstance will stand him in stead in the sequel of the story.\n\n[61] The town of Moussoul is in Mesopotamia, built over against old\nNineveh.\n\n[62] This word in Arabic signifies wonderful.\n\n[63] That is, of the caliphs that reigned after the four first\nsuccessors of Mahomet, and were so named from one of their\nancestors, whose name was Ommiah.\n\n[64] This prayer is always said two hours and a half before sun-set.\n\n[65] The Mahometans having a custom of washing their hands five\ntimes a day, when they go to prayers, they reckon they have no\noccasion to wash before eating, but they always wash after eating,\nbecause they eat without forks.\n\n[66] This is done all over the Levant, for making their drink cool.\n\n[67] The Mahometans give this name generally to the black eunuchs.\n\n[68] Here the Arabian author plays upon the Jews: this ass is that\nwhich, as the Mahometans believe, Esdras rode upon when he came from\nthe Babylonian captivity to Jerusalem.\n\n[69] A bezestein is a public place, where silk stuffs and other\nprecious things are exposed for sale.\n\n[70] This is called in English, Saltwort.\n\n[71] There is a fountain at Mecca, which, according to the\nMahometans, is the spring that God showed to Hagar, after Abraham\nwas obliged to put her away. The water of this spring is drank by\nway of devotion, and is sent in presents to the princes and\nprincesses.\n\n[72] A sherif is the same with a sequin. This word occurs in our\nancient authors.\n\n[73] This year 653 is one of the Hegira, the common epocha of the\nMahometans, and answers to the year 1255 from the nativity of\nChrist; from whence we may conjecture that these computations were\nmade in Arabia about that time.\n\n[74] As for the year 7320, the author is mistaken in that\ncomputation. The year 653 of the Hegira, and the 1255 of Christ,\ncoincide only with the 1557 of the era or epocha of the Seleucides,\nwhich is the same with that of Alexander the Great, who is called\nIskender with two horns, according to the expression of the\nArabians. This name he has from his father, Jupiter Ammon, in memory\nof whom he is represented sometimes with the horns of a ram on his\nhead.\n\n[75] A public place in the towns of the Levant, where strangers\nlodge.\n\n[76] He was raised to this dignity in the year of the Hegira 623,\nand Anno Dom. 1226, and was the 36th caliph of the race of the\nAbassides.\n\n[77] The Barmecides, as has been said already, were a noble family\nof Persia, who settled at Bagdad.\n\n[78] The Easterns, and particularly the Mahometans, do not drink\ntill after meals.\n\n[79] Or vagabond Arabs, who wander in the deserts, and plunder the\ncaravans when they are not strong enough to resist them.\n\n[80] This word signifies in Arabic, \u201cthe sun of the day.\u201d\n\n[81] The Arabians, Persians, and Turks, when they write, hold the\npaper commonly upon their knee with their left hand, and write with\ntheir right, with a little reed or cane, cut and slit like our pens.\nThe cane is hollow, and resembles our reeds, but is harder.\n\n[82] A city on the Tigris, 20 leagues below Bagdad.\n\n[83] That is to say, in Persian, King of the Time, or King of the\nAge.\n\n[84] A scheme of her nativity, drawn from the constellations of\nheaven.\n\n[85] There is an adventure like this in the romance of Peter of\nProvence and the fair Magdalena, which was taken from the Arabic.\n\n[86] This is an Arabic word, which signifies the life of the soul.\n\n[87] This incident is also much the same in the romance of Peter of\nProvence and the fair Magdalena.\n\n[88] A famous player on the lute, who lived in Bagdad in the reign\nof the caliph.\n\n[89] Gulnare, in Arabic, is a rose or pomegranate flower.\n\n[90] Saleh, in Arabic, signifies good.\n\n[91] \u201cGiauhara,\u201d in Arabic, signifies a \u201cprecious stone.\u201d\n\n[92] Sequins.\n\n[93] \u201cMobarec\u201d is the name of a Mahommedan saint, and of several\nArabian writers mentioned by l\u2019Herbelot.\n\n[94] Given of God.\n\n[95] Master of the world above and below.\n\n[96] Ballas rubies are rubies of the brightest colour.\n\n[97] Which is to say, the Full Moon of Full Moons.\n\n[98] \u201cReml\u201d or \u201cRaml\u201d signifies \u201csand prepared,\u201d or a\npreparation of sand, on which are marked certain points serving for\na kind of divination, which we call \u201cGeomancy;\u201d and the Arabs,\nRomans, and Turks, \u201ce\u2019 con alraml.\u201d These points, disposed in\na certain number on many unequal lines, are described also with a\npen on paper; and the person who practises divination by this art is\ncalled \u201cRammal.\u201d --D\u2019Herbelot, art. Raml.\n\n[99] In the French it is Sidi Noman, and Noman is the name of a king\nof one of the dynasties in Herbelot.\n\n[100] \u201cSesame\u201d is a sort of corn.\n\n[101] \u201cNevrouz,\u201d or the New Day, is the name which the ancient\nPersians gave to the first day of their year, which was solar.\nGiarischid, king of the first dynasty of the Pischdadians,\ninstituted the solemnity of the Nevrouz, which is still celebrated\nby the Persians, though they are Mahometans, and consequently\nobliged to use the Arabian year, which is lunar. The first day was\nfixed in the vernal equinox, at the point when the sun enters into\nthe first degree of Aries. There is another Nevrouz of the autumnal\nequinox. --D\u2019Herbelot.\n\n[102] Chaucer\u2019s Squire\u2019s Tale, the poem by which Milton\ndescribes and characterises him, is founded on this adventure. The\nimagination of this story consists in Arabian fiction, engrafted on\nGothic chivalry. Nor is this Arabian fiction purely the sport of\narbitrary fancy; it is, in a great measure, founded on Arabian\nlearning. The idea of a horse of brass took its rise from the\nmechanical knowledge of the Arabians, and their experiments in\nmetals. The poets of romance, Lydgate, and Gower, who deal in\nArabian ideas, describe the Trojan horse to be made of brass.\n--Wharton\u2019s Hist. of English Poetry, vol. i. p. 398-400. Chaucer\nhas borrowed only the description of the horse and the two pins, the\nascending one in his ear, and the use to be made of him. That\nChaucer never finished the story is more than probable, from\nMilton\u2019s speaking of it as \u2018left untold,\u2019 which does not apply\nto loss after finishing.\n\n[103] Two Persian words, which signify the same, the \u201cfemale\nfairy,\u201d or \u201cgenie.\u201d See the preface.\n\n[104] An Arabian word that signifies \u201cdaylight.\u201d\n\n[105] This circumstance has been also brought into Europe, and\ncopied by the Normans. Duke Richard, surnamed \u201cRichard sans\npeur,\u201d walking one evening in the forest of Moulineaux near one of\nhis castles, on the banks of the Seine, with his courtiers, hearing\na prodigious noise coming towards him, sent one of his esquires to\nknow what was the matter, who brought him word, that it was a\ncompany of people under a leader or king. Richard, with five hundred\nof his bravest Norman, went out to see a sight which the peasants\nwere so accustomed to that they viewed it two or three times a week\nwithout fear. The sight of the troop, preceded by two men who spread\na cloth on the ground, made all the Normans run away, and leave the\nduke alone. He saw the strangers form themselves into a circle on\nthe cloth, and on asking who they were, was told, they were the\nspirits of Charles V. king of France and his servants, condemned to\nexpiate their sins by fighting all night against the wicked and the\ndamned. Richard desired to be of their party, and receiving a strict\ncharge not to quit the cloth, was conveyed with them to mount Sinai,\nwhere leaving them without quitting the cloth, he said his prayers\nin the church of St. Catherine\u2019s abbey there, while they were\nfighting, and returned with them. In proof of the truth of this\nstory, he brought back half the wedding-ring of a knight in that\nconvent, whose wife, after six years, concluded him dead, and was\ngoing to take a second husband.\n\n[106] From such a story as this was probably borrowed the strange\nknight\u2019s \u2018Mirror of Glass,\u2019 mentioned by Chaucer in the\nSquire\u2019s Tale, brought with the Indian with the wonderful horse.\nThe virtues of that mirror were, that men might see when any\nadversity befell the kingdom or the king, and who is a friend, or\nfoe; and any lady might see if the object of her love were false.\nThis mirror was carried up into the principal tower, and there fixed\nfor use. Such an one Gower ascribes to Virgil, who set it upon a\nmarble pillar at Rome for similar purposes; and with this\ncorresponds Merlin\u2019s Glassie Mirror, in Spenser, F. Q. ii. 24, and\nthe globe shown to de Gama in the Lusiad. Warton\u2019s History of\nEnglish Poetry, i. 406, 407. Such a mirror is said by the oriental\nwriters to have been possessed by Giamschid, one of their kings, by\nwhich he and his people knew natural and supernatural things.\n(Herbelot in voce.) Our great countryman, Roger Bacon, in his\n\u2018Opus Majus,\u2019 a work entirely founded on the Aristotelian and\nArabian Philosophy, describes a variety of specula, and explains\ntheir construction and uses. This is the most curious and\nextraordinary part of Bacon\u2019s book, written about 1270. His Optic\nTube, in which he pretended to see future events, was famous in his\ntime, and long afterwards, and chiefly contributed to give him the\nname of a magician. He asserts that \u2018all things are known by\nperspective.\u2019 A mirror in the head of a monstrous fowl showed the\nMexicans their future invaders the Spaniards; and C. Agrippa, in\nsuch a mirror, showed the earl of Surrey, Geraldine sick on a couch.\nWarton, ib.\n\n[107] \u2018Sogd Samarcand,\u2019 or the plain of Samarcand, is on the\nnorth side of that city, and from it the province called by the\nancients \u2018Sogdiana\u2019 took its name. The oriental writers say,\nthat this plain or valley is one of the four paradises or most\ndelightful places in the world, as well as the plain and valley of\nDamascus, which is called \u2018Gauthah.\u2019 They make it eight days\njourney in extent; and it is covered on every side with gardens full\nof fruit of admirable beauty and variety, or corn-fields and\npastures ever green, the soil being watered by springs and rivulets\nissuing from a large and principal river called \u2018Cai,\u2019 running\nthrough the middle of the plain. A number of populous towns and\nvillages, full of industrious cultivators of the soil, over-spread\nthis rich valley. --Herbelot.\n\n[108] Nourgihan signifies \u2018Light of the world,\u2019 and was the name\nof the wife of Gehanghir, son of Akbar, king of India, whom she\ngoverned by her prudence. --Herbelot.\n\n[109] \u2018Khosrou,\u2019 \u2018Khosrau\u2019 or \u2018Khosrev,\u2019 is a name\ncommon to many kings of Persia, and the \u2018Chosroes\u2019 of the Greek\nhistorians.\n\n[110] \u201cBahaman\u201d was the name of the sixth king of Persia of the\nsecond dynasty of the Caianides, and signifies \u201cjust\u201d and\n\u201cbeneficent,\u201d being, according to some writers, only an epithet\nof \u201cArdschir Dirazdest\u201d or \u201cArtaxerxes Longimanus.\u201d He is\nsaid to have reigned 112 years, and to have been contemporary with\nHippocrates and Galen. --Herbelot. \u201cParizadeh,\u201d the\n\u201cParisatis\u201d of the Greeks, signifies \u201cborn of a fairy.\u201d\n--Idem. \u201cPervis\u201d has the same origin.","title":"The Arabian Nights' Entertainments","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":492799}