{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_8599/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_8599","id":"gutenberg_8599","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/8599","summary":null,"tags":["Arabs -- Folklore","Category: Adventure","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Short Stories","Children's Myths, Fairy Tales, etc.","Fairy tales -- Arab countries","Tales -- Arab countries"],"text":"Produce by Wendy Crockett and JC Byers\n\n\n\n\n\n               Fairy Tales from the Arabian Nights.\n                           First Series.\n\n\n\n                        Edited by E. Dixon\n\n\n\nNote.\n\nThe text of the present selection from the Arabian Nights is that\nof Galland, 1821, slightly abridged and edited. The edition is\ndesigned virginibus puerisque.\n\nE. DIXON.\nCambridge,\nXmas, 1893.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\nThe King of Persia and the Princess of the Sea\nPrince Beder and the Princess Giauhara (A Sequel to the Foregoing)\nThe Three Princes and Princess Nouronnihar\nPrince Ahmed and the Fairy (A Sequel to the Foregoing)\nPrince Camaralzaman and the Princess of China\nThe Loss of the Talisman (A Sequel to the Foregoing)\nThe Story of Zobeide\nThe Story of the King's Son\nThe First Voyage of Sinbad the Sailor\nThe Second Voyage of Sinbad the Sailor\nThe Third Voyage of Sinbad the Sailor\nThe Fourth Voyage of Sinbad the Sailor\nThe Fifth Voyage of Sinbad the Sailor\nThe Sixth Voyage of Sinbad the Sailor\nThe Seventh Voyage of Sinbad the Sailor\n\n\n\n\n\n\n          THE KING OF PERSIA AND THE PRINCESS OF THE SEA.\n\n\n\nThere once was a king of Persia, who at the beginning of his reign\nhad distinguished himself by many glorious and successful\nconquests, and had afterwards enjoyed such profound peace and\ntranquillity as rendered him the happiest of monarchs. His only\noccasion for regret was that he had no heir to succeed him in the\nkingdom after his death. One day, according to the custom of his\nroyal predecessors during their residence in the capital, he held\nan assembly of his courtiers, at which all the ambassadors and\nstrangers of renown at his court were present. Among these there\nappeared a merchant from a far-distant country, who sent a message\nto the king craving an audience, as he wished to speak to him about\na very important matter. The king gave orders for the merchant to\nbe instantly admitted; and when the assembly was over, and all the\nrest of the company had retired, the king inquired what was the\nbusiness which had brought him to the palace.\n\n'Sire,' replied the merchant, 'I have with me, and beg your majesty\nto behold, the most beautiful and charming slave it would be\npossible to find if you searched every corner of the earth; if you\nwill but see her, you will surely wish to make her your wife.'\n\nThe fair slave was, by the king's commands, immediately brought in,\nand no sooner had the king beheld a lady whose beauty and grace\nsurpassed anything he had ever imagined, than he fell passionately\nin love with her, and determined to marry her at once. This was\ndone.\n\nSo the king caused the fair slave to be lodged in the next finest\napartment to his own, and gave particular orders to the matrons and\nthe women-slaves appointed to attend her, that they should dress\nher in the richest robe they could find, and carry her the finest\npearl necklaces, the brightest diamonds, and other the richest\nprecious stones, that she might choose those she liked best.\n\nThe King of Persia's capital was situated in an island; and his\npalace, which was very magnificent, was built upon the sea-shore;\nhis window looked towards the sea; and the fair slave's, which was\npretty near it, had also the same prospect, and it was the more\npleasant on account of the sea's beating almost against the foot of\nthe wall.\n\nAt the end of three days the fair slave, magnificently dressed, was\nalone in her chamber, sitting upon a sofa, and leaning against one\nof the windows that faced the sea, when the king, being informed\nthat he might visit her, came in. The slave hearing somebody walk\nin the room, immediately turned her head to see who it was. She\nknew him to be the king; but without showing the least surprise, or\nso much as rising from her seat to salute or receive him, she\nturned back to the window again as if he had been the most\ninsignificant person in the world.\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 had\nbeen taken to instruct her in the first rules of civility. He went\nto her at the window, where, notwithstanding the coldness and\nindifference with which she had just now received him, she suffered\nherself to be admired, kissed and embraced as much as he pleased,\nbut answered him not a word.\n\n'My dearest life,' said the king, 'you neither answer, nor by any\nvisible token give me the least reason to believe that you are\nlistening to me. Why will you still keep to this obstinate silence,\nwhich chills me? Do you mourn for your country, your friends, or\nyour relations? Alas! is not the King of Persia, who loves and\nadores you, capable of comforting, and making you amends for the\nloss of everything in the world?'\n\nBut the fair slave continued her astonishing reserve; and keeping\nher eyes still fixed upon the ground, would neither look at him nor\nutter a word; but after they had dined together in absolute\nsilence, the king went to the women whom he had assigned to the\nfair slave as her attendants, and asked them if they had ever heard\nher speak.\n\nOne of them presently made answer, 'Sire, we have neither seen her\nopen her lips, nor heard her speak any more than your majesty has\njust now; we have rendered her our services; we have combed and\ndressed her hair, put on her clothes, and waited upon her in her\nchamber; but she has never opened her lips, so much as to say, That\nis well, or, I like this. We have often asked, Madam, do you want\nanything? Is there anything you wish for? Do but ask and command\nus: but we have never been able to draw a word from her. We cannot\ntell whether her silence proceeds from pride, sorrow, stupidity, or\ndumbness; and this is all we can inform your majesty.'\n\nThe King of Persia was more astonished at hearing this than he was\nbefore: however, believing the slave might have some reason for\nsorrow, he endeavoured to divert and amuse her, but all in vain.\nFor a whole year she never afforded him the pleasure of a single\nword.\n\nAt length, one day there were great rejoicings in the capital,\nbecause to the king and his silent slave-queen there was born a son\nand heir to the kingdom. Once more the king endeavoured to get a\nword from his wife. 'My queen,' he said, 'I cannot divine what your\nthoughts are; but, for my own part, nothing would be wanting to\ncomplete my happiness and crown my joy but that you should speak to\nme one single word, for something within me tells me you are not\ndumb: and I beseech, I conjure you, to break through this long\nsilence, and speak but one word to me; and after that I care not\nhow 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\ngoing to speak, he waited for that happy moment with an eagerness\nand attention 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\nthings to say to your majesty, that, having once broken silence, I\nknow not where to begin. However, in the first place, I think\nmyself in duty bound to thank you for all the favours and honours\nyou have been pleased to confer upon me, and to implore Heaven to\nbless and prosper you, to prevent the wicked designs of your\nenemies, and not to suffer you to die after hearing me speak, but\nto grant you a long life. Had it never been my fortune to have\nborne a child, I was resolved (I beg your majesty to pardon the\nsincerity of my intention) never to have loved you, as well as to\nhave kept an eternal silence; but now I love you as I ought to do.'\n\nThe King of Persia, ravished to hear the fair slave speak, embraced\nher tenderly. 'Shining light of my eyes,' said he, 'it is\nimpossible for me to receive a greater joy than what you have now\ngiven me.'\n\nThe King of Persia, in the transport of his joy, said no more to\nthe fair slave. He left her, but in such a manner as made her\nperceive that his intention was speedily to return: and being\nwilling that his joy should be made public, he sent in all haste\nfor the grand vizier. As soon as he came, he ordered him to\ndistribute a thousand pieces of gold among the holy men of his\nreligion, who had made vows of poverty; as also among the hospitals\nand the poor, by way of returning thanks to Heaven: and his will\nwas 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, but I hope you will indulge me with some conversation,\nsince I am desirous to know several things of great consequence.\nTell me, my dearest soul, what were the powerful reasons that\ninduced you to persist in that obstinate silence for a whole year\ntogether, though you saw me, heard me talk to you, and ate and\ndrank with me every day.'\n\nTo satisfy the King of Persia's curiosity, 'Think,' replied the\nqueen, '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 at 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\nas that of our parents; and the loss of liberty is insupportable to\nevery one who is not wholly destitute of common sense, and knows\nhow to set a value on it.'\n\n'Madam,' 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\nlike yourself, whom her evil destiny had condemned to be a slave,\nought to think herself very happy in meeting with a king for her\nmaster.'\n\n'Sire,' replied the fair slave, 'whatever the slave is, there is no\nking on earth who can tyrannise over her will. But when this very\nslave is in nothing inferior to the king that bought her, your\nmajesty shall then judge yourself of her misery, and her sorrow,\nand to what desperate attempts the anguish of despair may drive\nher.'\n\nThe King of Persia, in great astonishment, said 'Madam, can it be\npossible that you are of royal blood? Explain the whole secret to\nme, I beseech you, and no longer increase my impatience. Let me\ninstantly know who are your parents, your brothers, your sisters,\nand your relations; but, above all, what your name is.'\n\n'Sire,' said the fair slave, 'my name is Gulnare, Rose of the Sea;\nand my father, who is now dead, was one of the most potent monarchs\nof the ocean. When he died, he left his kingdom to a brother of\nmine, named Saleh, and to the queen, my mother, who is also a\nprincess, the daughter of another powerful monarch of the sea. We\nenjoyed a profound peace and tranquillity through the whole\nkingdom, till a neighbouring prince, envious of our happiness,\ninvaded our dominions with a mighty army; and penetrating as far as\nour capital, made himself master of it; and we had but just time\nenough to save ourselves in an impenetrable and inaccessible place,\nwith a few trusty officers who did not forsake us in our distress.\n\n'In this retreat my brother contrived all manner of ways to drive\nthe unjust invader from our dominions. One day \"Sister,\" said he,\n\"I may fail in the attempt I intend to make to recover my kingdom;\nand I shall be less concerned for my own disgrace than for what may\npossibly happen to you. To prevent it, and to secure you from all\naccident, I would fain see you married first: but in the miserable\ncondition of our affairs at present, I see no probability of\nmatching you to any of the princes of the sea; and therefore I\nshould be very glad if you would think of marrying some of the\nprinces of the earth I am ready to contribute all that lies in my\npower towards it; and I am certain there is not one of them,\nhowever powerful, but would be proud of sharing his crown with\nyou.\"\n\n'At this discourse of my brother's, I fell into a violent passion.\n\"Brother,\" said I, \"you know that I am descended, as well as you,\nby both father's and mother's side, from the kings and queens of\nthe sea, without any mixture of alliance with those of the earth;\ntherefore I do not intend to marry below myself, any more than they\ndid. The condition to which we are reduced shall never oblige me to\nalter 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\n'My brother, who was still earnest for the marriage, however\nimproper for me, endeavoured to make me believe that there were\nkings of the earth who were nowise inferior to those of the sea.\nThis put me into a more violent passion, which occasioned him to\nsay several bitter words that stung me to the quick. He left me as\nmuch dissatisfied with myself as he could possibly be with me; and\nin this peevish mood I gave a spring from the bottom of the sea up\nto the island of the moon.\n\n'Notwithstanding the violent displeasure that made me cast myself\nupon that island, I lived content in retirement. But in spite of\nall my precautions, a person of distinction, attended by his\nservants, surprised me sleeping, and carried me to his own house,\nand wished me to marry him. When he saw that fair means would not\nprevail upon me, he attempted to make use of force; but I soon made\nhim repent of his insolence. So at last he resolved to sell me;\nwhich he did to that very merchant who brought me hither and sold\nme to your majesty. This man was a very prudent, courteous, humane\nperson, and during the whole of the long journey, never gave me the\nleast reason to complain.\n\n'As for your majesty,' continued Queen Gulnare, 'if you had not\nshown me all the respect you have hitherto paid, and given me such\nundeniable marks of your affection that I could no longer doubt of\nit, I hesitate not to tell you plainly that I should not have\nremained with you. I would have thrown myself into the sea out of\nthis very window, and I would have gone in search of my mother, my\nbrother, and the rest of my relations; and, therefore, I hope you\nwill no longer look upon me as a slave, but as a princess worthy of\nyour alliance.'\n\nAfter this manner Queen Gulnare discovered herself to the King of\nPersia, and finished her story. 'My charming, my adorable queen,'\ncried he, 'what wonders have I heard! I must ask a thousand\nquestions concerning those strange and unheard-of things which you\nhave related to me. I beseech you to tell me more about the kingdom\nand people of the sea, who are altogether unknown to me. I have\nheard much talk, indeed, of the inhabitants of the sea, but I\nalways looked upon it as nothing but a tale or fable; but, by what\nyou have told me, I am convinced there is nothing more true; and I\nhave a very good proof of it in your own person, who are one of\nthem, and are pleased to condescend to be my wife; which is an\nhonour no other inhabitant on the earth can boast of besides\nmyself. There is one thing yet which puzzles me; therefore I must\nbeg the favour of you to explain it; that is, I cannot comprehend\nhow it is possible for you to live or move in the water without\nbeing drowned. There are very few amongst us who have the art of\nstaying under water; and they would surely perish, if, after a\ncertain time, they did not come up again.'\n\n'Sire,' replied 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\ndo in the air; so that instead of suffocating us, as it does you,\nit absolutely contributes to the preservation of our lives. What is\nyet more remarkable is, that it never wets our clothes; so that\nwhen we have a mind to visit the earth, we have no occasion to dry\nthem. Our common language is the same as that of the writing\nengraved upon the seal of the great prophet Solomon, the son of\nDavid.\n\n'I 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\neyes without any inconvenience; and as we have quick, piercing\nsight, we can discern any object as clearly in the deepest part of\nthe sea as upon land. We have also there a succession of day and\nnight; the moon affords us her light, and even the planets and the\nstars appear visible to us. I have already spoken of our kingdoms;\nbut as the sea is much more spacious than the earth, so there are a\ngreater number of them, and of greater extent. They are divided\ninto provinces; and in each province there are several great\ncities, well peopled. In short, there are an infinite number of\nnations, differing in manners and customs, just as upon the earth.\n\n'The 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,\ncoral, and of other materials more valuable; gold, silver, and all\nsorts of precious stones are more plentiful there than on earth. I\nsay nothing of the pearls, since the largest that ever were seen\nupon earth would not be valued amongst us; and none but the very\nlowest rank of citizens would wear them.\n\n'As we can transport ourselves whither we please in the twinkling\nof an eye, we have no occasion for any carriages or riding-horses;\nnot but what the king has his stables, and his stud of sea-horses;\nbut they are seldom made use of, except upon public feasts or\nrejoicing days. Some, after they have trained them, take delight in\nriding them, and show their skill and dexterity in races; others\nput them to chariots of mother-of-pearl, adorned with an infinite\nnumber of shells of all sorts, of the brightest colours. These\nchariots are open; and in the middle there is a throne upon which\nthe king sits, and shows himself to his subjects. The horses are\ntrained up to draw by themselves; so that there is no occasion for\na charioteer to guide them. I pass over a thousand other curious\nparticulars relating to these marine countries, which would be very\nentertaining to your majesty; but you must permit me to defer it to\na future leisure, to speak of something of much greater\nconsequence. I should like to send for my mother and my cousins,\nand at the same time to desire the king my brother's company, to\nwhom I have a great desire to be reconciled. They will be very glad\nto see me again, after I have related my story to them, and when\nthey understand I am wife to the mighty king of Persia. I beseech\nyour majesty to give me leave to send for them: I am sure they will\nbe happy to pay their respects to you; and I venture to say you\nwill be extremely pleased to see them.'\n\n'Madam,' replied the King of Persia, 'you are mistress; do whatever\nyou please; I will endeavour to receive them with all the honours\nthey deserve. But I would fain know how you would acquaint them\nwith what you desire, and when they will arrive, that I may give\norders to make preparation for their reception, and go myself in\nperson to meet them.'\n\n'Sire,' replied the Queen Gulnare, 'there is no need of these\nceremonies; they will be here in a moment; and if your Majesty will\nbut look through the lattice, you shall see the manner of their\narrival.'\n\nQueen Gulnare then ordered one of her women to bring her a brazier\nwith a little fire. After that she bade her retire, and shut the\ndoor. When she was alone, she took a piece of aloes out of a box,\nand put it into the brazier. As soon as she saw the smoke rise, she\nrepeated some words unknown to the King of Persia, who from a\nrecess observe with great attention all that she did. She had no\nsooner ended, than the sea began to be disturbed. At length the sea\nopened at some distance; and presently there rose out of it a tall,\nhandsome young man, with moustaches of a sea-green colour; a little\nbehind him, a lady, advanced in years, but of a majestic air,\nattended by five young ladies, nowise inferior in beauty to the\nQueen Gulnare.\n\nQueen Gulnare immediately went 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\ncame forward, borne, as it were, upon the surface of the waves.\nWhen they came to the edge, they nimbly, one after another, sprang\nup to the window, from whence Queen Gulnare had retired to make\nroom for them. King Saleh, the queen her mother, and the rest of\nher relations, embraced her tenderly, with tears in their eyes, on\ntheir first 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\nagain after so long an absence; and I am confident that your\nbrother and your relations are no less so. Your leaving us without\nacquainting anybody with it involved us in inexpressible concern;\nand it is impossible to tell you how many tears we have shed upon\nthat account. We know of no other reason that could induce you to\ntake such a surprising step, but what your brother told us of the\nconversation that passed between him and you. The advice he gave\nyou seemed 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; we and you ought now to bury it for\never in oblivion: give us an account of all that has happened to\nyou since we saw you last, and of your present situation; but\nespecially let us know if you are satisfied.'\n\nQueen Gulnare immediately threw herself at her mother's feet; and\nafter rising and kissing her hand, 'I own,' said she, 'I have been\nguilty of a very great fault, and I am indebted to your goodness\nfor the pardon which you are pleased to grant me.' She then related\nthe whole of what had befallen her since she quitted the sea.\n\nAs soon as she had acquainted them with her having been sold to the\nKing of Persia, in whose palace she was at present; 'Sister,' said\nthe king her brother, 'you now have it in your power to free\nyourself. Rise, and return with us into my kingdom, that I have\nreconquered from the proud usurper who had made himself master of\nit.'\n\nThe King of Persia, who heard these words from the recess where he\nwas concealed, was in the utmost alarm. 'Ah!' said he to himself,\n'I am ruined; and if my queen, my Gulnare, hearkens to this advice,\nand leaves me, I shall surely die.' But Queen Gulnare soon put him\nout of his fears.\n\n'Brother,' said she, smiling, 'I can scarce forbear being angry\nwith you for advising me to break the engagement I have made with\nthe most puissant and most renowned monarch in the world. I do not\nspeak here of an engagement between a slave and her master; it\nwould be easy to return the ten thousand pieces of gold that I cost\nhim; but I speak now of a contract between a wife and a husband,\nand a wife who has not the least reason to complain. He is a\nreligious, wise, and temperate king. I am his wife, and he has\ndeclared me Queen of Persia, to share with him in his councils.\nBesides, I have a child, the little Prince Beder. 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 the earth. Excuse me for\ngiving you the trouble of coming hither from the bottom of the\ndeep, to communicate it to you, and for the pleasure of seeing you\nafter so long a separation.'\n\n'Sister,' replied King Saleh, 'the proposal I made you of going\nback with us into my kingdom was only to let you see how much we\nall love you, and how much I in particular honour you, and that\nnothing in the world is so dear to me as your happiness.'\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\nmonarch that loves you so passionately, and has done such great\nthings for you.'\n\nWhen the King of Persia, who was still in the recess, heard this he\nbegan to love her more than ever, and resolved to express his\ngratitude in every possible way.\n\nPresently Queen Gulnare clapped her hands, and in came some of her\nslaves, whom she had ordered to bring in a meal: as soon as it was\nserved up, she invited the queen her mother, the king her brother,\nand her cousins, to sit down and take part of it. They began to\nreflect, that without asking leave, they had got into the palace of\na mighty king, who had never seen nor heard of them, and that it\nwould be a great piece of rudeness to eat at his table without him.\nThis reflection raised a blush in their faces; in their emotion\ntheir eyes glowed like fire, and they breathed flames at their\nmouths and nostrils.\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 recess, and recovered the King of\nPersia from his surprise.\n\n'Sir,' said she, 'give me leave to assure you of the sincere\nfriendship that the queen my mother and the king my brother are\npleased to honour you with: they earnestly desire to see you, and\ntell you so themselves: I intended to have some conversation with\nthem by ordering a banquet for them, before I introduced them to\nyour majesty, but they are very impatient to pay their respects to\nyou: and therefore I desire your majesty would be pleased to walk\nin, and honour them with your presence.'\n\n'Madam,' 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.'\n\n'Sir,' replied the queen, laughing, 'you need not in the least be\nafraid of those flames, which are nothing but a sign of their\nunwillingness to eat in your palace, without your honouring them\nwith your presence, and eating with them.'\n\nThe King of Persia, encouraged by these words, rose up, and came\nout into the room 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\nare at a loss for words to express our joy to think that the queen\nmy sister should have the happiness of falling under the protection\nof so powerful a monarch. We can assure you she is not unworthy of\nthe high rank you have been pleased to raise her to; and we have\nalways had so much love and tenderness for her, that we could never\nthink of parting with her to any of the puissant princes of the\nsea, who often demanded her in marriage before she came of age.\nHeaven has reserved her for you, Sir, and we have no better way of\nreturning thanks to it for the favour it has done her, than by\nbeseeching it to grant your majesty a long and happy life with her,\nand to crown you with prosperity and satisfaction.'\n\n'Certainly,' replied the King of Persia, 'I cannot sufficiently\nthank either the queen her mother, or you, Prince, or your whole\nfamily, for the generosity with which you have consented to receive\nme into an alliance so glorious to me as yours.' So saying, he\ninvited them to take part of the luncheon, and he and his queen sat\ndown at the table with them. After it was over, the King of Persia\nconversed with them till it was very late; and when they thought it\ntime to retire, he waited upon them himself to the several rooms he\nhad ordered to be prepared for them.\n\nNext day, as the King of Persia, Queen Gulnare, the queen her\nmother, King Saleh her brother, and the princesses their relations,\nwere discoursing together in her majesty's room, the nurse came in\nwith the young Prince Beder in her arms. King Saleh no sooner saw\nhim, than he ran to embrace him; and taking him in his arms, fell\nto kissing and caressing him with the greatest demonstration of\ntenderness. He took several turns with him about the room, dancing\nand tossing him about, when all of a sudden, through a transport of\njoy, the window being open, he sprang out, and plunged with him\ninto the sea.\n\nThe King of Persia, who expected no such sight, set up a hideous\ncry, verily believing that he should either see the dear prince his\nson no more, or else that he should see him drowned; and he nearly\ndied of grief and affliction. 'Sir,' said Queen Gulnare (with a\nquiet and undisturbed countenance, the better to comfort him), 'let\nyour majesty fear nothing; the young prince is my son as well as\nyours, and I do not love him less than you do. You see I am not\nalarmed; neither in truth ought I to be so. He runs no risk, and\nyou will soon see the king his uncle appear with him again, and\nbring him back safe and sound. For he will have the same advantage\nhis uncle and I have, of living equally in the sea and upon the\nland.' The queen his mother and the princesses his relations\nconfirmed the same thing; yet all they said had no effect on the\nking's fright, from which he could not recover till he saw Prince\nBeder appear again before him.\n\nThe sea at length became troubled, when immediately King Saleh\narose with the young prince in his arms, and holding him up in the\nair, he re-entered at the same window he went out at. The King of\nPersia being overjoyed to see Prince Beder again, and astonished\nthat he was as calm as before he lost sight of him, King Saleh\nsaid, 'Sir, was not your majesty in a great fright, when you first\nsaw me plunge into the sea with the prince my nephew?'\n\n'Alas! Prince,' answered the King of Persia, 'I cannot express my\nconcern. I thought him lost from that very moment, and you now\nrestore life to me by bringing him again.'\n\n'I thought as much,' replied King Saleh, 'though you had not the\nleast reason to apprehend any danger; for, before I plunged into\nthe sea with him I pronounced over him certain mysterious words,\nwhich were engraven on the seal of the great Solomon, the son of\nDavid. We do the same to all those children that are born in the\nregions at the bottom of the sea, by virtue of which 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, for as\nlong as he lives, and as often as he pleases, he will be at liberty\nto plunge into the sea, and traverse the vast empires it contains\nin its bosom.'\n\nHaving so spoken, King Saleh, who had restored Prince Beder to his\nnurse's arms, opened a box he had fetched from his palace in the\nlittle time he had disappeared. It was filled with three hundred\ndiamonds, as large as pigeons' eggs, a like number of rubies of\nextraordinary size, as many emerald wands, each half a foot long,\nand thirty strings or necklaces of pearl, consisting each of ten\nfeet. '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\nto be married to so great a monarch. This made us come empty\nhanded. As we cannot express how much we have been obliged to your\nmajesty, I beg you to accept this small token of gratitude, in\nacknowledgment of the many particular favours you have been pleased\nto show her.'\n\nIt is impossible to express how greatly the King of Persia was\nsurprised at the sight of so much riches, enclosed in so little\ncompass. 'What! Prince,' cried he, 'do you call so inestimable a\npresent a small token of your gratitude? I declare once more, you\nhave never been in the least obliged to me, neither the queen your\nmother nor you. Madam,' continued he, turning to Gulnare, 'the king\nyour brother has put me into the greatest confusion; and I would\nbeg of him to permit me to refuse his present, were I not afraid of\ndisobliging him; do you therefore endeavour to obtain his leave\nthat I may be excused accepting it.'\n\n'Sir,' replied King Saleh, 'I am not at all surprised that your\nmajesty thinks this present so extraordinary. I know you are not\naccustomed upon earth to see precious stones of this quality and\nquantity: but if you knew, as I do, the mines whence these jewels\nwere taken, and that it is in my power to form a treasure greater\nthan those of all the kings of the earth, you would wonder we\nshould have the boldness to make you a present of so small a value.\nI beseech you, therefore, not to regard it in that light, but on\naccount of the sincere friendship which obliges us to offer it to\nyou not to give us the mortification of refusing it.' This obliged\nthe King of Persia to accept the present, for which he returned\nmany thanks 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, they\nbegged of him not to take it ill if they took leave of him and\nQueen Gulnare. The King of Persia assured them he was very sorry\nthat it was not in his power to return their visit in their own\ndominions; but he added, 'As I am verily persuaded you will not\nforget Queen Gulnare, but come and see her now and then, I hope I\nshall have the honour to see you again more than once.'\n\nMany tears were shed on both sides upon their separation. King\nSaleh departed first; but the queen his mother, and the princesses\nhis relations, were fain to force themselves in a manner from the\nembraces of Queen Gulnare, who could not prevail upon herself to\nlet them go. This royal company were no sooner out of sight than\nthe King of Persia said to Queen Gulnare, 'Madam, I should have\nlooked with suspicion upon the person that had pretended to pass\nthose off upon me for true wonders, of which I myself have been an\neye-witness from the time I have been honoured with your\nillustrious family at my court. But I cannot refuse to believe my\nown eyes; and shall remember it as long as I live, and never cease\nto bless Heaven for sending you to me, instead of to any other\nprince.'\n\n\n\n\n\n              PRINCE BEDER AND THE PRINCESS GIAUHARA.\n\n\n\nYoung Prince Beder was brought up and educated in the palace under\nthe care of the King and Queen of Persia. He gave them great\npleasure as he advanced in years by his agreeable manners, and by\nthe justness of whatever he said; King Saleh his uncle, the queen\nhis grandmother, and the princesses his relations, came from time\nto time to see him. He was easily taught to read and write, and was\ninstructed in all the sciences that became a prince of his rank.\n\nWhen he arrived at the age of fifteen he was very wise and prudent.\nThe king, who had almost from his cradle discovered in him these\nvirtues so necessary for a monarch, and who moreover began to\nperceive the infirmities of old age coming upon himself every day,\nwould not wait till death gave him possession of the throne, but\npurposed to resign it to him. He had no great difficulty to make\nhis council consent to it; and the people heard this with so much\nthe more joy, because they considered Prince Beder worthy to govern\nthem. They saw that he treated all mankind with that goodness which\ninvited them to approach him; that he heard favourably all who had\nanything to say to him; that he answered everybody with a goodness\nthat was peculiar to him; and that he refused nobody anything that\nhad the least appearance of justice.\n\nThe day for the ceremony was appointed. In the midst of the whole\nassembly, which was larger than usual, the King of Persia, then\nsitting on his throne, came down from it, took the crown from off\nhis head, put it on that of Prince Beder, and having seated him in\nhis place, kissed his hand, as a token that he resigned his\nauthority to him. After which he took his place among the crowd of\nviziers and emirs below the throne.\n\nHereupon the viziers, emirs, and other principal officers, came\nimmediately and threw themselves at the new king's feet, taking\neach the oath of fidelity according to their rank. Then the grand\nvizier made a report of various important matters, on which the\nyoung king gave judgment with admirable prudence and sagacity that\nsurprised all the council. He next turned out several governors\nconvicted of mal-administration, and put others in their place,\nwith wonderful and just discernment. He at length left the council,\naccompanied by the late king his father, and went to see his\nmother, Queen Gulnare. The queen no sooner saw him coming with his\ncrown upon his head, than she ran to him, and embraced him with\ntenderness, 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 care. Above all, he took care to inform\nhimself of the state of his affairs, and all that might in any way\ncontribute towards the happiness of his people. Next year, having\nleft the administration to his council, under the direction of the\nold king his father, he went out of his capital, under pretext of\ndiverting himself with hunting; but his real intention was to visit\nall the provinces of his kingdom, that he might reform all abuses\nthere, establish good order and discipline everywhere, and take\nfrom all ill-minded princes, his neighbours, any opportunities of\nattempting any thing against the security and tranquillity of his\nsubjects, by showing himself on his frontiers.\n\nIt required no less than a whole year for this young king to carry\nout his plans. Soon after his return, the old king his father fell\nso dangerously ill that he knew at once he should never recover. He\nwaited for his last moment with great tranquillity, and his only\ncare was to recommend the ministers and other lords of his son's\ncourt to remain faithful to him: and there was not one but\nwillingly renewed his oath as freely as at first. He died, at\nlength, to the great grief of King Beder and Queen Gulnare, who\ncaused his corpse to be borne to a stately mausoleum, worthy of his\nrank and dignity.\n\nThe funeral ended, King Beder found no difficulty in complying with\nthat ancient custom in Persia to mourn for the dead a whole month,\nand not to be seen by anybody during all that time. He would have\nmourned the death of his father his whole life, had it been right\nfor a great prince thus to abandon himself to grief. During this\ninterval the queen, mother to Queen Gulnare, and King Saleh,\ntogether with the princesses their relations, arrived at the\nPersian court, and shared their affliction, before they offered any\nconsolation.\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\ntake upon him the administration of affairs as before.\n\nHe showed such great reluctance at their request, that the grand\nvizier was forced to take upon himself to say to him; 'Sir, neither\nour tears nor yours are capable of restoring life to the good king\nyour father, though we should lament him all our days. He has\nundergone the common law of all men, which subjects them to pay the\nindispensable tribute of death. Yet we cannot say absolutely that\nhe is dead, since we see him in your sacred person. He did not\nhimself doubt, when he was dying, but that he should revive in you,\nand to your majesty it belongs to show that he was not deceived.'\n\nKing Beder could no longer oppose such pressing entreaties: he laid\naside his mourning; and after he had resumed the royal habit and\nornaments, he began to provide for the necessities of his kingdom\nand subjects with the same care as before his father's death. He\nacquitted himself with universal approbation: and as he was exact\nin maintaining the ordinances of his predecessor, the people did\nnot feel they had changed their sovereign.\n\nKing Saleh, who had 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, at the end of the month than he came\nalone to visit him; and King Beder and Queen Gulnare were overjoyed\nto see him.\n\nOne evening when they rose from table, they talked of various\nmatters. King Saleh began with the praises of the king his nephew,\nand expressed to the queen his sister how glad he was to see him\ngovern so prudently, all of which had acquired him great\nreputation, not among his neighbours only, but more remote princes.\nKing Beder, who could not bear to hear himself so well spoken of,\nand not being willing, through good manners, to interrupt the king\nhis uncle, turned on one side to sleep, leaning his head against a\ncushion that was behind him.\n\n'Sister,' said King Saleh, 'I wonder you have not thought of\nmarrying him ere this: if I mistake not, he is in his twentieth\nyear; and, at that age, no prince like him ought to be suffered to\nbe without a wife. I will think of a wife for him myself, since you\nwill not, and marry him to some princess of our lower world that\nmay be worthy of him.'\n\n'Brother,' replied Queen Gulnare, 'I have never thought of it to\nthis very moment, and I am glad you have spoken of it to me. I like\nyour proposing one of our princesses; and I desire you to name one\nso beautiful and accomplished that the king my son may be obliged\nto love her.'\n\n'I know one that will suit,' replied King Saleh, softly; 'but I see\nmany difficulties to be surmounted, not on the lady's part, as I\nhope, but on that of her father. I need only mention to you the\nPrincess Giauhara, daughter of the king of Samandal.'\n\n'What?' replied Queen Gulnare, 'is not the Princess Giauhara yet\nmarried? I remember to have seen her before I left your palace; she\nwas then about eighteen months old, and surprisingly beautiful, and\nmust needs be the wonder of the world. The few years she is older\nthan the king my son ought not to prevent us from doing our utmost\nto bring it about. Let me but know the difficulties that are to be\nsurmounted, and we will surmount them.'\n\n'Sister,' 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,\n'it is as well for the king my nephew not to know anything of our\ndesign, lest he should fall in love with the Princess Giauhara,\ntill we have got the consent of the King of Samandal, in case,\nafter all, we should not be able to obtain her for him.' They\ndiscoursed a little longer upon this point, and, before they\nparted, agreed that King Saleh should forthwith return to his own\ndominions, and demand the Princess Giauhara of the King of Samandal\nher father, for the King of Persia his nephew.\n\nNow King Beder had heard what they said, and he immediately fell in\nlove with the Princess Giauhara without having even seen her, and\nhe lay awake thinking all night. Next day King Saleh took leave of\nQueen Gulnare and the king his nephew. The young king, who knew the\nking his uncle would not have departed so soon but to go and\npromote his happiness without loss of time, changed colour when he\nheard him mention his departure. He resolved to desire his uncle to\nbring the princess away with him: but only asked him to stay with\nhim one day more, that they might hunt together. The day for\nhunting was fixed, and King Beder had many opportunities of being\nalone with his uncle, but he had not the courage to open his mouth.\nIn the heat of the chase, when King Saleh was separated from him,\nand not one of his officers and attendants was near, he alighted\nnear a rivulet; and having tied his horse to a tree, which, with\nseveral others growing along the banks, afforded a very pleasing\nshade, he laid himself down on the grass. He remained a good while\nabsorbed in thought, without speaking a word.\n\nKing Saleh, in the meantime, missing the king his nephew, began to\nbe much concerned to know what had become of him. He therefore left\nhis company to go in search of him, and at length perceived him at\na distance. He had observed the day before, and more plainly that\nday, that he was not so lively as he used to be; and that if he was\nasked a question, he either answered not at all, or nothing to the\npurpose. As soon as King Saleh saw him lying in that disconsolate\nposture, he immediately guessed he had heard what passed between\nhim and Queen Gulnare. He hereupon alighted at some distance from\nhim, and having tied his horse to a tree, came upon him so softly,\nthat he heard him say to himself:\n\n'Amiable princess of the kingdom of Samandal, I would this moment\ngo and offer you my heart, if I knew where to find you.'\n\nKing Saleh would hear no more; he advanced immediately, and showed\nhimself to King Beder. 'From what I see, nephew,' said he, 'you\nheard what the queen your mother and I said the other day of the\nPrincess Giauhara. It was not our intention you should have known\nanything, and we thought you were asleep.'\n\n'My dear uncle,' replied King Beder, 'I heard every word, but was\nashamed to disclose to you my weakness. I beseech you to pity me,\nand not wait to procure me the consent of the divine Giauhara till\nyou have gained the consent of the King of Samandal that I may\nmarry his daughter.'\n\nThese words of the King of Persia greatly embarrassed King Saleh.\nHe represented to him how difficult it was, and that he could not\nwell do it without carrying him along with him; which might be of\ndangerous consequence, since his presence was so absolutely\nnecessary in his kingdom. He begged him to wait. But these reasons\nwere not sufficient to satisfy the King of Persia.\n\n'Cruel 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\n'I am ready to convince your majesty,' replied King Saleh, 'that I\nwould do anything 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.'\n\n'If you do really love me,' replied the King of Persia impatiently,\n'as you would have me believe you do, you must return to your\nkingdom immediately, and carry me along with you.'\n\nKing Saleh, finding himself obliged to yield to his nephew, drew\nfrom his finger a ring, on which were engraven the same mysterious\nnames that were upon Solomon's seal, that had wrought so many\nwonders by their virtue. 'Here, take this ring,' said he, 'put it\nupon your finger, and fear neither the waters of the sea, nor their\ndepth.'\n\nThe King of Persia took the ring, and when he had put it on his\nfinger, King Saleh said to him, 'Do as I do.' At the same time they\nboth mounted lightly up into the air, and made towards the sea\nwhich was not far distant, whereinto they both plunged.\n\nThe sea-king was not long in getting to his palace with the King of\nPersia, whom he immediately carried to the queen's apartment, and\npresented him to her. The King of Persia kissed the queen his\ngrandmother's hands, and she embraced him with great joy. 'I do not\nask you how you are,' said she to him; 'I see you are very well,\nand I am rejoiced at it; but I desire to know how is my daughter,\nyour mother, Queen Gulnare?'\n\nThe King of Persia told her the queen his mother was in perfect\nhealth. Then the queen presented him to the princesses; and while\nhe was in conversation with them, she left him, and went with King\nSaleh, who told her how the King of Persia was fallen in love with\nthe Princess Giauhara, and that he had brought him along with him,\nwithout being able to hinder it.\n\nAlthough King Saleh was, to do him justice, perfectly innocent, yet\nthe queen could hardly forgive his indiscretion in mentioning the\nPrincess Giauhara before him. 'Your imprudence is not to be\nforgiven,' said she to him: 'can you think that the King of\nSamandal, whose character is so well known, will have greater\nconsideration for you than the many other kings he has refused his\ndaughter to with such evident contempt? Would you have him send you\naway with the same confusion?'\n\n'Madam,' replied King Saleh, 'I have already told you it was\ncontrary to my intention that the king, my nephew, should hear what\nI related of the Princess Giauhara to the queen my sister. The\nfault is committed; I will therefore do all that I can to remedy\nit. I hope, madam, you will approve of my resolution to go myself\nand wait upon the King of Samandal, with a rich present of precious\nstones, and demand of him the princess, his daughter, for the King\nof Persia, your grandson. I have some reason to believe he will not\nrefuse me, but will be pleased at an alliance with one of the\ngreatest potentates of the earth.'\n\n'It were to have been wished,' replied the queen, 'that we had not\nbeen under a necessity of making this demand, since the success of\nour attempt is not so certain as we could desire; but since my\ngrandson's peace and content depend upon it, I freely give my\nconsent. But, above all, I charge you, since you well know the\ntemper 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, composed of diamonds,\nrubies, emeralds, and strings of pearl; all of 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 the\nkingdom and the palace of the King of Samandal, who rose from his\nthrone as soon as he perceived him; and King Saleh, forgetting his\ncharacter for some moments, though 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 raise\nhim up, and after he had placed him on his left hand, he told him he\nwas welcome, and asked him if there was anything he could do to\nserve him.\n\n'Sir,' answered King Saleh, 'though I should have no other motive\nthan that of paying my respects to the most potent, most prudent,\nand most valiant prince in the world, feeble would be my\nexpressions how much I honour your majesty.' Having, spoken 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\nit for his sake.\n\n'Prince,' replied the King of Samandal, 'you would not make me such\na present unless you had a request to propose. If there be anything\nin my power, you may freely command it, and I shall feel the\ngreatest pleasure in granting it. Speak, and tell me frankly\nwherein I can serve you.'\n\n'I must own,' replied King Saleh, 'I have a boon to ask of your\nmajesty; and I shall take care to ask nothing but what is in your\npower to grant. The thing depends so absolutely on yourself, that\nit 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\nme.'\n\n'If it be so,' replied the King of Samandal, 'you have nothing to\ndo but acquaint me what it is, and you shall see after what manner\nI can oblige when it is in my power.'\n\n'Sir,' said King Saleh, 'after the confidence your majesty has been\npleased to encourage me to put in your goodwill, I will not\ndissemble any longer. I came to beg of you to honour our house with\nyour alliance by the marriage of your honourable daughter the\nPrincess Giauhara, and to strengthen the good understanding that\nhas so long subsisted between our two crowns.'\n\nAt these words the King of Samandal burst out laughing falling back\nin 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; but what you\nsay convinces me how much I was mistaken. Tell me, I beseech you,\nwhere was your discretion, when you imagined to yourself so great\nan absurdity as you have just now proposed to me? Could you\nconceive a thought only of aspiring in marriage to a princess, the\ndaughter of so great and powerful a king as I am? You ought to have\nconsidered better beforehand the great distance between us, and not\nrun the risk of losing in a moment the esteem I always had for your\nperson.'\n\nKing Saleh was extremely nettled at this affronting, answer, and\nhad much ado to restrain his resentment; however, he replied, with\nall possible moderation, 'God reward your majesty as you deserve! I\nhave the honour to inform you, I do not demand the princess your\ndaughter in marriage for myself; had I done so your majesty and the\nprincess ought to have been so far from being offended, that you\nshould have thought it an honour done to both. Your majesty well\nknows I am one of the kings of the sea as well as yourself; that\nthe kings, my ancestors, yield not in antiquity to any other royal\nfamilies; and that the kingdom I inherit from them is no less\npotent and flourishing than it has ever been. If your majesty had\nnot interrupted me, you had soon understood that the favour I ask\nof you was not for myself, but for the young King of Persia, my\nnephew, whose power and grandeur, no less than his personal good\nqualities, cannot be unknown to you. Everybody acknowledges the\nPrincess Giauhara to be the most beautiful person in the world: but\nit is no less true that the young King of Persia, my nephew, is the\nbest and most accomplished prince on the land. Thus the favour that\nis asked being likely to redound both to the honour of your majesty\nand the princess your daughter, you ought not to doubt that your\nconsent to an alliance so equal will be unanimously approved in all\nthe kingdoms of the sea. The princess is worthy of the King of\nPersia, and the King of Persia is no less worthy of her. No king or\nprince in the world can dispute her with him.'\n\nThe King of Samandal would not have let King Saleh go on so long\nafter this rate, had not the rage he put him in deprived him of all\npower of speech. It was some time before he could find his tongue,\nso much was he transported with passion. At length, however, he\nbroke into outrageous language, unworthy of a great king. 'Dog!'\ncried he, 'dare you talk to me after this manner, and so much as\nmention my daughter's name in my presence? Can you think the son of\nyour sister Gulnare worthy to come in competition with my daughter?\nWho are you? Who was your father? Who is your sister? And who your\nnephew? Was not his father a dog, and a son of a dog, like you?\nGuards, 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\nnimble and vigorous, got from them before they could draw their\nsabres; and having reached the palace gate, he there found a\nthousand men of his relations and friends, well armed and equipped,\nwho had just arrived. The queen his mother having considered the\nsmall number of attendants he took with him, and, moreover,\nforeseeing the bad reception he would probably have from the King\nof Samandal, had sent these troops to protect and defend him in\ncase of danger, ordering them to make haste. Those of his relations\nwho were at the head of this troop had reason to rejoice at their\nseasonable arrival, when they beheld him and his attendants come\nrunning in great disorder and pursued. 'Sir,' cried his friends,\nthe moment he joined them, 'what is the matter? We are ready to\nrevenge you: you need only command us.'\n\nKing Saleh related his case to them in as few words as he could,\nand putting himself at the head of a large troop, he, while some\nseized on the gates, re-entered the palace as before. The few\nofficers and guards who had pursued him being soon dispersed, he\nre-entered the King of Samandal's apartment, who, being abandoned\nby his attendants, was soon seized. King Saleh left sufficient\nguards to secure his person, and then went from apartment to\napartment, in search of the Princess Giauhara. But that princess,\non the first alarm, had, together with her women, sprung up to the\nsurface of the sea, and escaped to a desert island.\n\nWhile this was passing in the palace of the King of Samandal, those\nof King Saleh's attendants who had fled at the first menaces of\nthat king 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: therefore, not caring to\nabide in the queen's presence any longer, he darted up from the\nbottom of the sea; and, not knowing how to find his way to the\nkingdom of Persia, he happened to light on the island where the\nPrincess Giauhara had taken refuge.\n\nThe prince, not a little disturbed in mind, went and seated himself\nunder the shade of a large tree. Whilst he was endeavouring to\nrecover himself, he heard somebody talking, but was too far off to\nunderstand what was said. He arose and advanced softly towards the\nplace whence the sound came, where, among the branches, he\nperceived a most beautiful lady. 'Doubtless,' said he, within\nhimself, stopping and considering her with great attention, 'this\nmust be the Princess Giauhara, whom fear has obliged to abandon her\nfather's palace.' This said, he came forward, and approached the\nprincess with profound reverence. 'Madam,' said he, 'a greater\nhappiness could not have befallen me than this opportunity to offer\nyou my most humble services. I beseech you, therefore, madam, to\naccept them, it being impossible that a lady in this solitude\nshould not want assistance.'\n\n'True, my lord,' replied Giauhara very sorrowfully, 'it is not a\nlittle extraordinary for a lady of my rank to be in this situation.\nI am a princess, daughter of the King of Samandal, and my name is\nGiauhara. I was in my father's palace, when all of a sudden I heard\na dreadful noise: news was immediately brought me that King Saleh,\nI know not for what reason, had forced his way into the palace,\nseized the king my father, and murdered all the guards that made\nany resistance. I had only time to save myself, and escaped hither\nfrom 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's\nperson, not doubting but that he would consent to give up the\nprincess for his liberty. 'Adorable princess,' continued he, 'your\nconcern is most just, but it is easy to put an end both to that and\nto your father's captivity. You will agree with me when I tell you\nthat I am Beder, King of Persia, and King Saleh is my uncle; I\nassure you, madam, he has no design to seize upon the king your\nfather's dominions; his only intent is to obtain his consent that I\nmay have the honour and happiness of being his son-in-law. I had\nalready given my heart to you, and now, far from repenting of what\nI have done, I beg of you to be assured that I will love you as\nlong as I live. Permit me, then, beauteous princess! to have the\nhonour to go and present you to the king my uncle; and the king\nyour father shall no sooner have consented to our marriage, than\nKing Saleh will leave him sovereign of his dominions as before.'\n\nThis declaration of King Beder did not produce the effect he\nexpected. When the princess heard from his own mouth that he had\nbeen the occasion of the ill-treatment her father had suffered, of\nthe grief and fright she had endured, and especially the necessity\nshe was reduced to of flying her country, she looked upon him as an\nenemy with whom she ought to have nothing whatever to do.\n\nKing Beder, believing himself arrived at the very pinnacle of\nhappiness, stretched forth his hand, and taking that of the\nprincess' stooped down to kiss it, when she, pushing him back,\nsaid, 'Wretch, quit that form of a man, and take that of a white\nbird, with a red bill and feet.' Upon her pronouncing these words,\nKing Beder was immediately changed into a bird of that sort, to his\ngreat surprise and mortification. 'Take him,' said she to one of\nher women, 'and carry him to the Dry Island.' This island was only\none frightful rock, where there was not a drop of water to be had.\n\nThe waiting-woman took the bird, and in executing her princess's\norders had compassion on King Beder's destiny. 'It would be a great\npity,' said she to herself, 'to let a prince, so worthy to live,\ndie of hunger and thirst. The princess, so good and gentle, will,\nit may be, repent of this cruel order when she comes to herself: it\nwere better that I carried him to a place where he may die a\nnatural death.' She accordingly carried him to a well-frequented\nisland, and left him in a charming plain, planted with all sorts of\nfruit trees, and watered by several 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 of the whereabouts of the king his\nnephew, and he learned with great surprise and vexation that he had\ndisappeared.\n\n'News being brought me,' said the queen, 'of the danger you were in\nat the palace of the King of Samandal, whilst I was giving orders\nto send other troops to avenge you, he disappeared. He must have\nbeen frightened at hearing of your being in so great danger, and\ndid not think himself in sufficient safety 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\nwith him without his mother's consent. Whilst he was in this\nsuspense about his nephew, he left his kingdom under the\nadministration of his mother, and went to govern that of the King\nof Samandal, whom he continued to keep under great vigilance,\nthough with all due respect to his rank.\n\nThe same day that King Saleh returned to the kingdom of Samandal,\nQueen Gulnare, 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 further than he proposed in the heat of the chase;\nbut when she saw that he returned neither the next day, nor the day\nafter, she began to be alarmed. This alarm was increased when the\nofficers, who had accompanied the king, and were obliged to return\nafter they had for a long time sought in vain for both him and his\nuncle, came and told her majesty they must of necessity have come\nto some harm, or be together in some place which they could not\nguess, since they could hear no tidings of them. Their horses,\nindeed, they had found, but as for their persons, they knew not\nwhere to look for them. The queen, hearing this, had resolved to\ndissemble and conceal her affliction, bidding the officers to\nsearch once more with their utmost diligence; but in the mean time,\nsaying nothing to anybody, she plunged into the sea, to satisfy\nherself as to the suspicion she had that King Saleh must have\ncarried away his nephew along with him.\n\nThis great queen would have been more affectionately received by\nthe queen her mother, had she not, upon first sight of her, guessed\nthe occasion of her coming. 'Daughter,' said she, 'I plainly\nperceive you are not come hither to visit me; you come to inquire\nafter the king your son; and the only news I can tell you will\naugment both your grief and mine. I no sooner saw him arrive in our\nterritories, than I rejoiced; yet, when I came to understand he had\ncome away without your knowledge, I began to share with you the\nconcern you must needs feel.' Then she related to her with what\nzeal King Saleh went to demand the Princess Giauhara in marriage\nfor King Beder, and what had happened, till her son disappeared. 'I\nhave sent diligently after him,' added she, 'and the king my son,\nwho is but just gone to govern the kingdom of Samandal, has done\nall that lay in his power. All our endeavours have hitherto proved\nunsuccessful, but we must hope nevertheless to see him again,\nperhaps when we least expect it.'\n\nQueen Gulnare was not satisfied with this hope; she looked upon the\nking her dear son as lost, and lamented him bitterly, laying all\nthe blame upon the king his uncle. The queen her mother made her\nconsider the necessity of not yielding too much to her grief. 'The\nking your brother,' said she, 'ought not, it is true, to have\ntalked to you so imprudently about that marriage, nor ever have\nconsented to carry away the king my grandson, without acquainting\nyou first; yet, since it is not certain that the King of Persia is\nabsolutely lost, you ought to neglect nothing to preserve his\nkingdom for him: lose, then, no more time, but return to your\ncapital; your presence there will be necessary, and it will not be\nhard for you to preserve the public peace, by causing it to be\npublished that the King of Persia was gone to visit his\ngrandmother.'\n\nQueen Gulnare yielded. She took leave of the queen her mother, and\nwas back in the palace of the capital of Persia before she had been\nmissed. She immediately despatched persons to recall the officers\nshe had sent after the king, and to tell them she knew where his\nmajesty was, and that they should soon see him again. She also\ngoverned with the prime minister and council as quietly as if the\nking had been present.\n\nTo return to King Beder, whom the Princess Giauhara's waiting-woman\nhad carried and left in the island before mentioned; that monarch\nwas not a little surprised when he found himself alone, and under\nthe form of a bird. He felt yet more unhappy that he knew not where\nhe was, nor in what part of the world the kingdom of Persia lay. He\nwas forced to remain where he was, and live upon such food as birds\nof his kind were wont to eat, and to pass the night on 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 before, he began\ngreatly to rejoice. He employed all his art to catch him, and at\nlength succeeded. Overjoyed at so great a prize, which he looked\nupon as of more worth than all the other birds, because so rare, he\nshut it up in a cage, and carried it to the city. As soon as he was\ncome into the market, a citizen stops him, and asked him how much\nhe wanted for that bird.\n\nInstead of answering, the peasant asked the citizen what he would\ndo with him in case he should buy him? 'What wouldst thou have me\nto do with him,' answered the citizen, 'but roast and eat him?'\n\n'If that be the case,' replied the peasant, 'I suppose you would\nthink me very well paid if you gave me the smallest piece of silver\nfor him. I set a much higher value upon him, and you should not\nhave him for a piece of gold. Although I am advanced in years, I\nnever saw such a bird in my life. I intend to make a present of him\nto the king; 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's\napartment. His majesty, being at a window where he could see all\nthat passed in the court, no sooner cast his eyes on this beautiful\nbird, than he sent an officer to buy it for him. The officer, going\nto the peasant, asked him how much he wanted for that bird. 'If it\nbe for his majesty,' answered the peasant, 'I humbly beg of him to\naccept it of me as a present, and I desire you to carry it to him.'\nThe officer took the bird to the king, who found it so great a\nrarity that he ordered the same officer to take ten pieces of gold,\nand carry them to the peasant, who departed very well satisfied.\nThe king ordered the bird to be put into a magnificent cage, and\ngave it seed and water in rich vessels.\n\nHis majesty being then ready to go hunting, had not time to\nconsider the bird, therefore had it brought to him as soon as he\ncame back. The officer brought the cage, and the king, that he\nmight better see the bird, took it out himself, and perched it upon\nhis hand. Looking earnestly at it, he asked the officer if he had\nseen it eat. 'Sir,' replied the officer, 'your majesty may observe\nthe vessel with his food is still full, and he has not touched any\nof it.' Then the king ordered him meat of various sorts, that he\nmight take what he liked best.\n\nThe table being spread, and dinner served up just as the king had\ngiven these orders, the bird, flapping his wings, hopped off the\nking's hand, and flew on to the table, where he began to peck the\nbread and victuals, sometimes on one plate, and sometimes on\nanother. The king was so surprised, that he immediately sent the\nofficer to desire the queen to come and see this wonder. The\nofficer related it to her majesty, and she came forthwith: but she\nno sooner saw the bird, than she covered her face with her veil,\nand would have retired. The king, surprised at her proceeding,\nasked the reason of it.\n\n'Sir,' answered the queen, 'your majesty will no longer be\nsurprised when you understand that this bird is not, as you take\nit, a bird, but a man.'\n\n'Madam,' said the king, more astonished than before, 'you are\nmaking fun of me; you shall never persuade me that a bird can be a\nman.'\n\n'Sir,' replied the queen, 'far be it from me to make fun of your\nmajesty; nothing is more certain than what I have had the honour to\ntell you. I can assure your majesty it is the King of Persia, named\nBeder, son of the celebrated Gulnare, princess of one of the\nlargest kingdoms of the sea, nephew of Saleh, king of that kingdom,\nand grandson of Queen Farasche, mother of Gulnare and Saleh; and it\nwas the Princess Giauhara, daughter of the King of Samandal, who\nthus metamorphosed him into a bird.' That the king might no longer\ndoubt of what she affirmed, she told him the whole story, how and\nfor what reason the Princess Giauhara, had thus revenged herself\nfor the ill-treatment of King Saleh towards the king of Samandal,\nher father.\n\nThe king had less difficulty in believing 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 everything which took place,\nhe 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\nform.\n\nThe queen consented to it with great willingness. 'Sir,' said she\nto the king, 'be pleased to take the bird into your room, and I\nwill show you a king worthy of the consideration you have for him.'\nThe bird, which had ceased eating, and attended to what the king\nand queen said, would not give his majesty the trouble to take him,\nbut hopped into the room before him; and the queen came in soon\nafter, with a vessel full of water in her hand. She pronounced over\nthe vessel some words unknown to the king, till the water began to\nboil, when she took some of it in her hand, and, sprinkling a\nlittle upon the bird, said, 'By virtue of these holy and mysterious\nwords I have just pronounced, quit that form of a bird, and\nreassume that which thou hast received from thy Creator.'\n\nThe words were scarcely out of the queen's mouth, when, instead of\na bird, the king saw a young prince. King Beder immediately fell on\nhis knees, and thanked God for the favour that had been bestowed\nupon him. Then he took the king's hand, who helped him up, and\nkissed it in token of gratitude; but the king embraced him with\ngreat joy. He would then have made his acknowledgments to the\nqueen, but she had already retired to her apartment. The king made\nhim sit at the table with him, and, after dinner was over, prayed\nhim to relate how the Princess Giauhara could have had the\ninhumanity to transform into a bird so amiable a prince as he was;\nand the King of Persia immediately told him. When he had done, the\nking, provoked at the proceeding of the princess, could not help\nblaming her. 'It was commendable,' said he, 'in the Princess of\nSamandal to feel hurt at the king her father's ill-treatment; but\nto carry her vengeance so far, and especially against a prince who\nwas not guilty, was what she will never be able to justify herself\nfor. But let us have done with this discourse, and tell me, I\nbeseech you, in what I can further serve you.'\n\n'Sir,' answered King Beder, 'my obligation to your majesty is so\ngreat, that I ought to remain with you all my life to testify my\ngratitude; but since your majesty sets no limits to your\ngenerosity, I entreat you to grant me one of your ships to\ntransport me to Persia, where I fear my absence, which has been but\ntoo long, may have occasioned some disorder, and that the queen my\nmother, from whom I concealed my departure, may be dead of grief,\nunder the uncertainty whether I am alive or dead.'\n\nThe king granted what he desired with the best grace imaginable,\nand immediately gave orders for equipping one of his largest ships,\nand the best sailor in his numerous fleet. The ship was soon\nfurnished with all its crew, 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; on the eleventh day\nthe wind changed, and becoming very violent, there followed a\nfurious tempest. The ship was not only driven out of its course,\nbut so violently tossed, that all its masts went by the board; and\ndriving along at the pleasure of the wind, it at length struck\nagainst a rock and split open.\n\nThe greater 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, and, after having been\ntossed about for some time by the waves and currents, he at length\nperceived himself near the shore, and not far from a city that\nseemed large. He exerted his remaining strength to reach the land,\nand was at length fortunate to come so near as to be able to touch\nthe ground with his feet. He immediately abandoned his piece of\nwood, which had been of so great service to him; but when he came\nnear the shore he was greatly surprised to see horses, camels,\nmules, asses, oxen, cows, bulls, and other animals crowding to the\nshore to oppose his landing. He had the utmost difficulty to\nconquer their obstinacy and force his way; but at length he\nsucceeded, and sheltered himself among the rocks till he had\nrecovered 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 want to make him\nunderstand that it was dangerous to proceed.\n\nKing Beder, however, got into the city soon after, and saw many\nfair and spacious streets, but was surprised to find no man there.\nThis made him think it was not without cause that so many animals\nhad opposed his passage. Going forward, nevertheless, he observed\nseveral shops open, which gave him reason to believe the place was\nnot so destitute of inhabitants as he imagined. He approached one\nof these shops, where several sorts of fruits were exposed to sale,\nand saluted 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, started, and\nasked him whence he came, and what business had brought him there.\nKing Beder satisfied him in a few words; and the old man further\nasked him if he had met anybody on the road. 'You are the first\nperson I have seen,' answered the king; 'and I cannot comprehend\nhow so fine and large a city comes to be without inhabitants.'\n\n'Come in, sir; stay no longer upon the threshold,' replied the old\nman, 'or peradventure some misfortune may happen to you. I will\nsatisfy your curiosity at leisure, and give you the reason why it\nis necessary you should take this precaution.'\n\nKing Beder would not be bidden twice: he entered the shop, and sat\ndown by the old man. The latter knew he must want food, therefore\nimmediately presented him with what was necessary to recover his\nstrength; and although King Beder was very anxious to know why he\nhad taken the precaution to make him enter the shop, the old man\nnevertheless would not tell him anything till he had done eating,\nfor fear the sad things he had to relate might take away his\nappetite. At last he said to him, 'You have great reason to thank\nGod you got hither without any misfortune.'\n\n'Alas! why?' replied king Beder, very much surprised and alarmed.\n\n'Because,' answered he, 'this city is called the City of\nEnchantments, and is governed not by a king, but by a queen, who is\na notorious and dangerous sorceress. You will be convinced of\nthis,' added he, 'when you know that these horses, mules, and other\nanimals that you have seen are so many men, like you and me, whom\nshe has transformed by her diabolical art. And when young men like\nyou enter the city, she has persons stationed to stop and bring\nthem, either by fair means or force, before her. She receives them\nin the most obliging manner; she caresses them, regales them, and\nlodges them magnificently. But she does not suffer them long to\nenjoy this happiness. There is not one of them whom she has not\ntransformed into some animal or bird at the end of forty days. You\ntold me all these animals opposed your landing and entering, the\ncity. This was the only way they could make you comprehend the\ndanger you were going to expose yourself to, and they did all in\ntheir power to save you.'\n\nThis account exceedingly afflicted the young King of Persia.\n'Alas!' cried he, 'to what extremities has my ill-fortune reduced\nme! I am hardly freed from one enchantment, which I look back upon\nwith horror, but I find myself exposed to another much more\nterrible.' This gave him occasion to relate his story to the old\nman more at length, and to acquaint him with his birth, quality,\nhis falling in love with the Princess of Samandal, and her cruelty\nin changing him into a bird the very moment he had seen her and\ndeclared his love to her.\n\nWhen the prince came to speak of his good fortune in finding a\nqueen who broke the enchantment, the old man, to encourage him,\nsaid, 'Notwithstanding all I told you of the magic queen, 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 singularly\nfortunate that you addressed 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; so that you are under\nno 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 than his\nyouth and handsome looks drew the eyes of all that passed that way.\nMany stopped and complimented the old man on his having acquired so\nfine a slave, as they imagined the king to be; and they were the\nmore surprised, because they could not comprehend how so beautiful\na youth could escape the queen's knowledge. 'Believe not,' said the\nold man, 'that this is a slave; you all know that I am not rich\nenough. He is my nephew, son of a brother of mine that is dead; and\nas I had no children of my own, I sent for him to keep me company.'\n\nThey congratulated his good fortune in having so fine a young man\nfor his relation; but could not help telling him they feared the\nqueen would take him from him. 'You know her well,' said they, 'and\nyou cannot be ignorant of the danger to which you are exposed,\nafter all the examples you have seen. How grieved would you be if\nshe should serve him as she has done so many others that we know\nof!'\n\n'I am obliged to you,' replied the old man, 'for your good will\ntowards me, and I heartily thank you for your care; but I shall\nnever entertain the least thought that the queen will do me any\ninjury, after all the kindness she has professed for me. In case\nshe happens to hear of this young man, and speaks to me about him,\nI doubt not she will cease to think of him, so soon as she comes to\nknow he is my nephew.'\n\nThe old man was exceedingly glad to hear the commendations they\nbestowed on the young King of Persia. He became as fond of him as\nif he had been his own son. They had lived about a month together,\nwhen, King Beder sitting at the shop-door, after his ordinary\nmanner, Queen Labe (so was this magic queen named) happened to come\nby with great pomp. The young king no sooner perceived the guards\ncoming before her, than he arose, and, going into the shop, asked\nthe old man what all that show meant. 'The queen is coming by,'\nanswered he, 'but stand still and fear nothing.'\n\nThe queen's 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\nnumber habited in brocaded silk, and better mounted, whose officers\ndid the old man the like honour. Next came as many young ladies on\nfoot, equally beautiful, richly dressed, and set off with precious\nstones. They marched gravely, with half pikes in their hands; and\nin the midst of them appeared Queen Labe, on a horse glittering\nwith diamonds, with a golden saddle, and a harness of inestimable\nvalue. All the young ladies saluted the old man as they passed by\nhim; and the queen, struck with the good mien of King Beder,\nstopped as soon as she came before the shop. 'Abdallah' (so was the\nold man named), said she to him, 'tell me, I beseech thee, does\nthat beautiful and charming slave belong to thee? and is it long\nthat thou hast been in possession of him?'\n\nAbdallah, before he answered the queen, threw himself on the\nground, and rising again, said, 'Madam, it is my nephew, son of a\nbrother I had, who has not long been dead. Having no children, I\nlook upon him as my son, and sent for him to come and comfort me,\nintending to leave him what I have when I die.'\n\nQueen Labe, who had never yet seen any one to compare with King\nBeder, thought immediately of getting the old man to abandon him to\nher. 'Father,' quoth she, 'will you not oblige me so far as to make\nme a present of this young man? Do not refuse me, I conjure you;\nand I swear by the fire and the light, I will make him so great and\npowerful that no individual in the world ever arrived at such good\nfortune. Although my purpose were to do evil to all mankind, yet he\nshall be the sole exception. I trust you will grant me what I\ndesire, more on the account of the friendship I know you have for\nme, than for the esteem you know I always had, and shall ever have\nfor you.'\n\n'Madam,' replied the good Abdallah, 'I am infinitely obliged to\nyour majesty for all your kindness, and the honours you propose to\ndo my nephew. He is not worthy to approach so great a queen, and I\nhumbly beseech your majesty to excuse him.'\n\n'Abdallah,' replied the queen, 'I all along flattered myself you\nloved me; 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\nin my religion, that I will pass on no farther till I have\nconquered your obstinacy. I understand very well what raises your\napprehensions; but I promise you shall never have any occasion to\nrepent having obliged me in so sensible a manner.'\n\nOld Abdallah was exceedingly grieved, both on his own account and\nKing Beder's, for being in a manner forced to obey the queen.\n'Madam,' replied he, 'I would not willingly have your majesty\nentertain an ill opinion of the respect I have for you, and my zeal\nalways to do whatever I can to oblige you. I put 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\nhonour to my nephew till you shall again pass this way.'\n\n'That shall be to-morrow,' said the queen, who inclined her head,\nas a token of being pleased, and so went forward towards her\npalace.\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 betraying 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, for fear I might force her to employ her magic both\nagainst you and myself openly or secretly, and treat you, as much\nfrom resentment to you as to me, with more signal cruelty than all\nthose she has had in her power before. But I have some reason to\nbelieve she will treat you well, as she promised, on account of\nthat particular esteem she professes for me. This you may have seen\nby the respect shown, and the honours paid me by all her court. She\nwould be a fiendish creature indeed, if she should deceive me; but\nshe shall not deceive me unrevenged, for I know how to be even with\nher.'\n\nThese assurances, which appeared very doubtful, were not sufficient\nto raise King Beder's spirits. 'After all you have told me of this\nqueen's wickedness,' replied he, 'you cannot wonder if I am\nsomewhat fearful to approach her: I might, it may be, make little\nof all you could tell me of her, did I not know by experience what\nit is to be at the mercy of a sorceress. The condition I was in,\nthrough the enchantment of the Princess Giauhara, and from whence I\nwas delivered only to enter almost immediately into another, has\nmade me look upon such a fate with horror.\n\n'Son,' replied old Abdallah, 'do not afflict yourself; for though I\nmust own there is no great faith to be put in the promises and\noaths of so perfidious a queen, yet I must withal tell you that her\npower extends not to me. She knows it well herself; and that is the\nreason, and no other, that she pays me such 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\nhand you over to her, she shall have no more power over you than\nshe has over me.'\n\nThe magic queen did not fail to pass by the old man's shop the next\nday, with the same pomp as the day before, and Abdallah waited for\nher with great respect. 'Father,' cried she, stopping just before\nhim, 'you may judge of my impatience to have your nephew with me,\nby my punctual coming to put you in mind of your promise. I know\nyou are a man of your word, and I cannot think you will break it\nwith 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 wanted\nnobody to hear what he had a mind to say to her, he advanced with\ngreat respect as far as her horse's head, and then said softly,\n'Powerful queen! I am persuaded your majesty will not be offended\nat my seeming unwillingness to trust my nephew with you yesterday,\nsince you cannot be ignorant of the reasons I had for it; but I\nimplore 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\nyour majesty would reduce me to despair if you should deal with him\nas you have done with others.'\n\n'I promise you I will not,' replied the queen; 'and I once more\nrepeat the oath I made yesterday, that neither you nor your nephew\nshall have any cause to be offended with me. I see plainly,' added\nshe, 'you are not yet well enough acquainted with me; you never saw\nme yet but through a veil; but as I find your nephew worthy of my\nfriendship, I will show you I am not in any way unworthy of his.'\nWith that she threw off her veil and showed King Beder, who came\nnear her with Abdallah, incomparable beauty.\n\nBut King Beder was little charmed. 'It is not enough,' said he\nwithin himself, 'to be beautiful; one's actions ought to\ncorrespond.'\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\nthe arm, presented him to her majesty. 'Here he is, madam,' said\nhe, 'and I beg of your majesty once more to remember he is my\nnephew, and to let him come and see me sometimes.' The queen\npromised he should; and to give a further mark of her gratitude,\nshe caused a bag of a thousand pieces of gold to be given him. He\nexcused himself at first from receiving them, but she insisted\nabsolutely upon it, and he could not refuse her. She had caused a\nhorse to be brought (as richly harnessed as her own) for the King\nof Persia.\n\nWhen King Beder was mounted, he would have taken his place behind\nthe queen, but she would not suffer him, and made him ride on her\nleft hand. She looked at 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's faces at the\nsight of their sovereign, King Beder took notice that they looked\nat her with contempt, and even cursed her. 'The sorceress,' said\nsome, 'has got a new subject to exercise her wickedness upon: will\nHeaven never deliver the world from her tyranny?' 'Poor stranger!'\ncried out others, 'thou art much deceived if thou thinkest thine\nhappiness will last long. It is only to render thy fall most\nterrible that thou art raised so high.' This talk gave King Beder\nto understand that Abdallah had told him nothing but the truth of\nQueen Labe: but as it now depended no longer on himself to escape\nthe mischief, he committed himself to divine Providence and the\nwill of Heaven respecting his fate.\n\nThe magic queen arrived at her palace; she alighted, and giving her\nhand to King Beder, entered with him, accompanied by her women and\nthe officers. She herself showed him all her apartments, where\nthere was nothing to be seen but massy gold, precious stones, and\nfurniture of wonderful magnificence. Then she led him out into a\nbalcony, from whence he observed a garden of surprising beauty.\nKing Beder commended all he saw, but so that he might not be\ndiscovered to be any other than old Abdallah's nephew. They\ndiscoursed of indifferent matters, till the queen was informed that\ndinner was upon the table.\n\nThe queen and King Beder arose, and sat down at the table, which\nwas of massy gold, and the dishes of the same metal. They began to\neat, but drank hardly at all till the dessert came, when the queen\ncaused a cup to be filled for her with excellent wine. She took it\nand drank to King Beder's health; and then, without putting it out\nof her hand, caused it to be filled again, and presented it to him.\nKing Beder received it with profound respect, and by a very low bow\nsignified to her majesty that he in return drank to her health.\n\nAt the same time ten of Queen Labe's women entered with musical\ninstruments, with which they made an agreeable concert. At length\nboth began so to be heated with wine, that King Beder forgot he had\nto do with a magic queen, and looked upon her only as the most\nbeautiful queen he ever saw.\n\nNext morning the women who had served the king presented him with\nfine linen and a magnificent robe. The queen likewise, who was more\nsplendidly dressed than the day before, came to receive him, and\nthey went together to her apartments, where they had a good repast\nbrought them, and spent the remainder of the day in walking in the\ngarden, and in various other amusements.\n\nQueen Labe treated King Beder after this manner for forty days, as\nshe had been accustomed to do to all the others. The fortieth night\nshe arose without making any noise and came into his room; but he\nwas awake, and perceiving she had some design upon him, watched all\nher motions. She opened a chest, from whence she took a little box\nfull of a certain yellow powder; taking some of the powder, she\nlaid a train of it across the chamber, and it immediately flowed in\na rivulet of water, to the great astonishment of King Beder. He\ntrembled with fear, but still pretended to sleep, that the\nsorceress might not discover he was awake.\n\nQueen Labe next took up some of the water in a vessel, and poured\nit into a basin, where there was flour, with which she made a\npaste, and kneaded it for a long time: then she mixed with it\ncertain drugs, which she took from different boxes, and made a\ncake, which she put into a covered baking-pan. As she had taken\ncare first of all to make a good fire, she took some of the coals,\nand set the pan upon them; and while the cake was baking, she put\nup the vessels and boxes in their places again; and on her\npronouncing certain words, the rivulet, which ran along the end of\nthe room, appeared no more. When the cake was baked, she took it\noff the coals, and carried it into her room, without the least\nsuspicion that he had seen anything of what she had done.\n\nKing Beder, whom the pleasures and amusements of a court had made\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 and see his uncle, and\nbegged her majesty to permit him. 'What! my dear Beder,' cried the\nqueen, '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 is so fond of you as\nI am?'\n\n'Great queen!' answered King Beder, 'how can I be tired of so many\nfavours and graces as your majesty perpetually heaps upon me? I\nmust own, however, it is partly for this reason, that, my uncle\nloving me so tenderly, as I well know he does, and I having been\nabsent from him now forty days, without once seeing him, I would\nnot give him reason to think that I consent to remain longer\nwithout seeing him.'\n\n'Go,' said the queen, 'you have my consent; but do not be long\nbefore you return.' This said, she ordered him a horse richly\ncaparisoned, and he departed.\n\nOld Abdallah was overjoyed to see King Beder; he embraced him\ntenderly, and King Beder did the same. As soon as they had sat\ndown, 'Well,' said Abdallah to the king, 'how have you been, and\nhow have you passed your time with that infidel sorceress?'\n\n'Hitherto,' answered King Beder, 'I must needs own she has been\nextraordinarily kind to me, but I observed something last night\nwhich gives me just reason to suspect that all her kindness\nhitherto is but dissimulation.' He related to Abdallah how and\nafter what manner he had seen her make the cake; and then added,\n'Hitherto, I must needs confess I had almost forgotten, not only\nyou, but all the advice you gave me concerning the wickedness of\nthis queen; but this last action of hers gives me reason to fear\nshe does not intend to observe any of her promises or solemn oaths\nto you. I thought of you immediately, and I esteem myself happy in\nthat I have obtained permission to come to you.'\n\n'You are not mistaken,' replied old Abdallah with a smile, which\nshowed he did not himself believe she would have acted otherwise,\n'nothing is capable of obliging a treacherous person to amend. But\nfear nothing. I know the way to make the mischief she intends for\nyou fall upon herself. You are alarmed in time; and you could not\nhave done better than to have recourse to me. It is her ordinary\npractice to keep her lovers only forty days, and after that time,\ninstead of sending them home, to turn them into animals, to stock\nher forests and parks; but I thought of measures yesterday to\nprevent her doing you the same harm. The earth has borne this\nmonster long enough, and it is now high time she should be treated\nas she deserves.'\n\nSo saying, Abdallah put two cakes into King Beder's hands, bidding\nhim 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 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 will not succeed; when she sees that she will\nimmediately turn the thing into a joke, as if what she had done was\nonly to frighten you. But she will conceal a mortal grief in her\nheart, and think she omitted something in the composition of her\ncake. As for the other cake, you shall make a present of it to her\nand press her to eat it; which she will not refuse to do, were it\nonly to convince you she does not mistrust you, though she has\ngiven you so much reason to mistrust her. When she has eaten of it,\ntake a little water in the hollow of your hand, and throwing it in\nher face, say, \"Quit that form you now wear, and take that of such\nand such an animal\" as you think fit; which done, come to me with\nthe animal, and I will tell you what you shall do afterwards.'\n\nKing Beder thanked Abdallah in the most expressive terms, and took\nhis leave of him and returned to the palace. Upon his arrival, he\nunderstood that the queen waited for him with great impatience in\nthe garden. He went to her, and she no sooner perceived him, than\nshe came in great haste to meet him. 'My dear Beder!' said she, '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.'\n\n'Madam,' replied King Beder, 'I can assure your majesty I was no\nless impatient to rejoin you; but I could not refuse to stay a\nlittle longer with an uncle that loves me, and had not seen me for\nso long a time. He would have kept me still longer, but I tore\nmyself away from him, to come where love calls me. Of all 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\nto the queen, saying, 'I beg your majesty to accept it.'\n\n'I do accept it with all my heart,' replied the queen, 'and will\neat it with pleasure for your and your good uncle's sake; but\nbefore I taste it, I desire you for my sake to eat a piece of this,\nwhich I have made for you during your absence.'\n\n'Fair queen,' answered King Beder, receiving it with great respect,\nI cannot sufficiently acknowledge the favour you do me.'\n\nKing Beder then artfully substituted in the place of the queen's\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\neating, 'Ah! queen, I never tasted anything so charming in my\nlife.'\n\nBeing near a cascade, as the sorceress saw him swallow one bit of\nthe cake, and ready to eat another, she took a little water in the\npalm of her hand, throwing it in the king's face, said, 'Wretch!\nquit that form of a man, and take that of a vile horse, blind and\nlame.'\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\nnothing; recover yourself. I did not intend you any harm; I only\ndid it to see what you would say.'\n\n'Powerful queen,' replied King Beder, 'persuaded as I am that what\nyour majesty did was only to divert yourself, yet I could not help\nbeing surprised. But, madam,' continued he, 'let us drop this, and\nsince I have eaten your cake, would you do me the favour to taste\nmine?'\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 ate it. She had no sooner swallowed it than 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, 'Abominable sorceress! quit that\nform of a woman, and be turned instantly into a mare.'\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\nupon her, not one would fit her. This made him cause two horses to\nbe saddled, one for the groom, and the other for himself; and the\ngroom led the mare after him to old Abdallah's.\n\nAbdallah, seeing at a distance King Beder coming with the mare,\ndoubted not but he had done what he advised him. 'Hateful\nsorceress!' said he immediately to himself in a transport of joy,\n'Heaven has at length punished thee as thou deservest.' King Beder\nalighted at Abdallah's door, and entered the shop, embracing and\nthanking him for all the signal services he had done him. He\nrelated to him the whole matter, and told him that he could find no\nbridle fit for the mare. Abdallah, who had one for every horse,\nbridled the mare himself, and as soon as King Beder had sent back\nthe groom with the two horses, he said to him, 'My lord, you have\nno reason to stay any longer in this city: mount the mare, and\nreturn to your kingdom. I have but one thing more to recommend to\nyou; and that is, if you should ever happen to part with the mare,\nbe sure not to give up the bridle.' King Beder promised to remember\nit; and having taken leave of the good old man, he departed.\n\nThe young King of Persia no sooner got out of the city, than he\nbegan to reflect with joy on the deliverance he had had, and that\nhe had the sorceress in his power, who had given him so much cause\nto tremble. Three days after he arrived at a great city, where,\nentering the suburbs, he met a venerable old man. 'Sir,' said the\nold man, stopping him, 'may I presume to ask from what part of the\nworld you come?' The king stopped to tell him, and as they were\ndiscoursing together, an old woman came up; who, stopping likewise,\nwept and sighed bitterly at the sight of the mare.\n\nKing Beder and the old man left off discoursing, to look at the old\nwoman, whom the king asked what cause she had to lament so much,\n'Alas! sir,' replied she, 'it is because your mare resembles so\nperfectly one my son had, which I still mourn the loss of on his\naccount. I should think yours were the same, did I not know she was\ndead. Sell her to me, I beseech you: I will give you more than she\nis worth, and thank you too.'\n\n'Good woman,' replied King Beder, 'I am heartily sorry I cannot\ncomply with your request: my mare is not to be sold.'\n\n'Alas! sir,' continued the old woman, 'do not refuse me this\nfavour. My son and I will certainly die with grief if you do not\ngrant it.'\n\n'Good mother,' replied the king, 'I would grant it with all my\nheart, if I was disposed to part with so good a beast; but if I\nwere so disposed, I believe you would hardly give a thousand pieces\nof gold for her, and I could not sell her for less.'\n\n'Why should I not give so much?' replied the old woman: 'if that be\nthe lowest price, you need only say you will take it, and I will\nfetch you the money.'\n\nKing Beder, seeing the old woman so poorly dressed, could not\nimagine she could find the money; therefore to try her, he said,\n'Go, fetch me the money, and the mare is yours.' The old woman\nimmediately unloosed a purse she had fastened to her girdle, and\ndesiring him to alight, bade him tell over the money, and in case\nhe found it came short of the sum demanded, she said her house was\nnot far off, and she could quickly fetch the rest.\n\nThe surprise of King Beder, at the sight of this purse, was not\nsmall. 'Good woman,' said he, 'do you not perceive I have been\nbantering you all this while? I assure you my mare is not to be\nsold.'\n\nThe old man, who had been witness to all that was said, now began\nto speak. 'Son,' quoth he to King Beder, 'it is necessary you\nshould know one thing, which I find you are ignorant of; and that\nis, that in this city it is not permitted to any one to tell a lie,\non any account whatsoever, on pain of death. You cannot refuse\ntaking this good woman's money, and delivering your mare, when she\ngives you the sum according to the agreement; and this you had\nbetter do without any noise, than expose yourself to what may\nhappen.'\n\nKing Beder, sorely afflicted to find himself thus trapped by his\nrash offer, 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 a stream that ran in the middle of the\nstreet, she threw it in the mare's face, uttering these words,\n'Daughter, quit that strange shape, and re-assume thine own.' The\ntransformation was effected in a moment, and King Beder, who\nswooned as soon as he saw Queen Labe appear, would have fallen to\nthe ground, if the old man had not caught 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, than\nto show her fury, she whistled. Immediately rose a genie of\ngigantic form and stature. This genie took King Beder on one\nshoulder, and the old woman with the magic queen on the other, and\ntransported them in a few minutes to the palace of Queen Labe in\nthe City of Enchantments.\n\nThe magic queen immediately fell upon King Beder, 'Is it thus,\nungrateful wretch,' said she, 'that thou and thy unworthy uncle\nrepay me for all the kindnesses I have done for you? I shall soon\nmake you both feel what you deserve.' She said no more, but taking\nwater in her hand, threw it in his face with these words, 'Come out\nof that shape, and take that of a vile owl.' These words were\nfollowed by the effect, and immediately she commanded one of her\nwomen to shut up the owl in a cage, and give him neither meat nor\ndrink.\n\nThe woman took the cage, and without regarding what the queen\nordered, gave him both meat and drink; and being old Abdallah's\nfriend, she sent him word privately how the queen had treated his\nnephew, and of her design to destroy both him and King Beder, that\nhe might give orders to prevent it and save 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 wanted. 'Lightning,' said\nAbdallah to him (for so was the genie called), 'I command you to\npreserve 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, so\nthat she may inform Queen Gulnare of the danger the king her son is\nin, and the occasion he has for her assistance. Take care not to\nfrighten her when you come before her and tell her from me what she\nought 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\nhe placed her on the terrace near the apartment where Queen Gulnare\nwas. She went downstairs to the apartment, and she there found\nQueen Gulnare and Queen Farasche her mother lamenting their\nmisfortunes. She made them a profound obeisance and they soon\nunderstood the great need that King Beder was in of their\nassistance.\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\nshe was obliged to her for the service she had done.\n\nThen immediately going out, she commanded the trumpets to sound,\nand the 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 Queen Farasche had caused to\ncome speedily thither by a certain fumigation. 'Brother,' said she\nto him, 'the king your nephew, my dear son, is in the City of\nEnchantments, under the power of Queen Labe. Both you and I must go\nto deliver him, for there is no time to be lost.'\n\nKing Saleh forthwith assembled a powerful body of his marine\ntroops, who soon rose out of the sea. He also called to his\nassistance the genies, his allies, who appeared with a much more\nnumerous army than his own. As soon as the two armies were joined,\nhe put himself at the head of them, with Queen Farasche, Queen\nGulnare, and the princesses. They then lifted themselves up into\nthe air, and soon poured down on the palace and City of\nEnchantments, where the magic queen, her mother, and all the\nadorers of fire, were destroyed in an instant.\n\nQueen Gulnare had ordered the woman who brought her the news of\nQueen Labe's transforming and imprisoning her son to follow her\nclosely, and bade her go, and in the confusion, seize the cage, and\nbring it to her. This order was executed as she wished, and Queen\nGulnare was no sooner in possession of the cage than she opened it\nand took out the owl, saying, as she sprinkled a little water upon\nhim, 'My dear son, quit that strange form, and resume thy natural\none of a man.'\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.\nShe could not find in her heart to let him go; and Queen Farasche\nwas obliged to force him from her in her turn. After her, he was\nlikewise embraced by the king his uncle and his relations.\n\nQueen Gulnare's first care was to look out for old Abdallah, to\nwhom she had been indebted for the recovery of the King of Persia.\nWhen he was brought to her, she said, 'My obligations to you, sir,\nhave been so great, that there is nothing in my power that I would\nnot freely do for you, as a token of my acknowledgment. Do but tell\nme in what I can serve you.'\n\n'Great queen,' replied Abdallah, 'if the lady whom I sent to your\nmajesty will but consent to the marriage I offer her, and the King\nof Persia will give me leave to reside at his court, I will spend\nthe remainder of my days in his service.'\n\nThen the queen turned to the lady, who was present, and finding\nthat she was not averse to the match proposed, she caused them to\njoin hands, and the King of Persia and she took care of their\nwelfare.\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\nyour majesty has just made. There remains one more, which I desire\nyou to think of.'\n\nQueen Gulnare did not at first comprehend what marriage he meant;\nbut after a little considering, she said, 'Of yours, you mean, son?\nI consent to it with all my heart.' Then turning, and looking on\nher brother's sea attendants, and the genies who were still\npresent, 'Go,' said she, 'and traverse both sea and land, to find\nout the most lovely and amiable princess, worthy of the king my\nson, and come and tell us.'\n\n'Madam,' replied King Beder, 'it is to no purpose for them to take\nall that pains. You have no doubt heard that I have already given\nmy heart to the Princess of Samandal. I have seen her, and do not\nrepent of the present I then made her. In a word, neither earth nor\nsea, in my opinion, can furnish a princess like her. It is true\nthat she treated me in a way that would have extinguished any\naffection less strong than mine. But I hold her excused; she could\nnot treat me with less rigour, after I had had the king her father\nimprisoned. But it may be the King of Samandal has changed his\nmind; and his daughter the princess may consent to love me when she\nsees her father has agreed to it.'\n\n'Son,' replied Queen Gulnare, 'if only the Princess Giauhara can\nmake you happy, it is not my design to oppose you. The king your\nuncle need only have the King of Samandal brought, and we shall\nsoon see whether he be still of the same untractable temper.'\n\nStrictly as the King of Samandal had been kept during his captivity\nby King Saleh's orders, yet he always had great respect shown him,\nand was become very familiar with the officers who guarded him.\nKing Saleh caused a chafing-dish of coals to be brought, into which\nhe threw 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's\nofficers, appeared. The King of Persia cast himself at the King of\nSamandal's 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 am sure your majesty will not persist in being the\ncause of the death of a king who can no longer live if he does not\nshare 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,\n'I should be very sorry to have contributed in the least to the\ndeath of a monarch who is so worthy to live. If it be true that so\nprecious a life cannot be preserved without my daughter, live,\nsir,' said he, 'she is yours. She has always been obedient to my\nwill, and I cannot think she will now oppose it.' Speaking these\nwords, he ordered one of his officers, whom King Saleh had\npermitted to be about him, to go and look for the Princess\nGiauhara, and bring her to him immediately.\n\nThe princess had remained where the King of Persia had left her.\nThe officer soon perceived her, and brought her with her women. The\nKing of Samandal embraced her, and said, 'Daughter, I have provided\na husband 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 over all other Princesses obliges us both to express\nour gratitude.'\n\n'Sir,' replied the Princess Giauhara, 'your majesty well knows I\nnever have presumed to disobey your will in anything; I shall\nalways be ready to obey you; and I hope the King of Persia will\nforget my ill-treatment of him, and consider it was duty, not\ninclination, that forced me to it.'\n\nThe wedding was celebrated in the palace of the City of\nEnchantments, with the greater solemnity in that all the lovers of\nthe magic queen, who resumed their original forms as soon as ever\nthat queen ceased to live, came to return their thanks to the King\nof Persia, Queen Gulnare, and King Saleh. They were all sons of\nkings 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\nreturned to his capital with Queen Gulnare, Queen Farasche, and the\nprincesses; and Queen Farasche and the princesses continued there\ntill King Saleh came to reconduct them to his kingdom under the\nwaves of the sea.\n\n\n\n\n\n          THE THREE PRINCES AND THE PRINCESS NOURONNIHAR.\n\n\n\nThere was once a sultan of India who had three sons. These, with\nthe princess his niece, were the ornaments of his court. The eldest\nof the princes was called Houssain, the second Ali, the youngest\nAhmed, and the princess his niece, Nouronnihar. The Princess\nNouronnihar was the daughter of the younger brother of the sultan,\nto whom the sultan in his lifetime allowed a considerable revenue.\nBut that prince had not been married long before he died, and left\nthe princess very young. The sultan, out of brotherly love and\nfriendship, took upon himself the care of his niece's education,\nand brought her up in his palace with the three princes, where her\nsingular beauty and personal accomplishments, joined to a sprightly\ndisposition and irreproachable conduct, distinguished her among all\nthe princesses of her time.\n\nThe sultan, her uncle, proposed to get her married, when she\narrived at a proper age, to some neighbouring prince, and was\nthinking seriously about it, when he perceived that the three\nprinces his sons had all fallen in love with her. He was very much\nconcerned, owing to the difficulty he foresaw whether the two\nyounger would consent to yield to their elder brother. He spoke to\neach of them apart; and after having remonstrated on the\nimpossibility of one princess being the wife of three persons, and\nthe troubles they would create if they persisted, he did all he\ncould to persuade them to abide by a declaration of the princess in\nfavour of one of them; or to suffer her to be married to a foreign\nprince. But as he found them obstinate, he sent for them all\ntogether, and said to them, 'Children, since I have not been able\nto persuade you no longer to aspire to marry the princess your\ncousin; and as I have no inclination to force her to marry any of\nyou, I have thought of a plan which will please you all, and\npreserve union among you, if you will but follow my advice. I think\nit would be best, if every one travelled separately into a\ndifferent country, so that you might not meet each other: and as\nyou know I delight in every thing that is rare and singular, I\npromise my niece in marriage to him that shall bring me the most\nextraordinary curiosity; and for travelling expenses, I will give\neach of you a sum befitting your rank and the purchase of the\ncuriosity you search.'\n\nAs the three princes were always submissive and obedient to the\nsultan's will, and each flattered himself that fortune would favour\nhim, they all consented. The sultan gave them the money he\npromised; and that very day they issued orders in preparation for\ntheir travels, and took leave of the sultan, that they might be\nready to set out early the next morning. They all went out at the\nsame gate of the city, each dressed like a merchant, attended by a\ntrusty officer dressed like a slave, all well mounted and equipped.\nThey went the first day's journey together; and slept at the first\ninn, where the road divided into three different tracks. At night\nwhen they were at supper together, they agreed to travel for a\nyear, and to make that inn their rendezvous; that the first that\ncame should wait for the rest; that as they had all three taken\nleave together of the sultan, they should all return together. The\nnext morning by break of day, after they had embraced and wished\neach other good success, they mounted their horses, and each took a\ndifferent 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\ntravelling with different caravans, sometimes over deserts and\nbarren mountains, and sometimes through populous and fertile\ncountries, he arrived at Bisnagar, the capital of the kingdom of\nthat name and the residence of its king. He lodged at a khan\nappointed for foreign merchants; and having learnt that there were\nfour principal quarters where merchants of all sorts kept their\nshops, in the midst of which stood the castle, or rather the king's\npalace, as the centre of the city, surrounded by three courts, and\neach gate two leagues distant from the other, he went to one of\nthese quarters the next day.\n\nPrince Houssain could not see 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\nmerchandise, as well as the craftsmen, lived in one street.\n\nThe multitude of shops stocked with the finest linens from several\nparts of India, some painted in the brightest colours, with men,\nlandscapes, trees, and flowers; silks and brocades from Persia,\nChina, and other places; porcelain from Japan and China, foot\ncarpets of all sizes,--all this surprised him so much that he knew\nnot how to believe his own eyes; but when he came to the shops of\nthe goldsmiths and jewellers (for those two trades were exercised\nby the same merchants), he was dazzled by the lustre of the pearls,\ndiamonds, rubies, emeralds, and other precious stones exposed for\nsale. But if he was amazed at seeing so many riches in one place,\nhe was much more surprised when he came to judge of the wealth of\nthe whole kingdom by considering that except the Brahmins and\nministers of the idols, who profess a life retired from worldly\nvanity, there was not an Indian, man or woman, through the extent\nof that kingdom, who did not wear necklaces, bracelets, and\nornaments about their legs and feet, made of pearls and other\nprecious stones.\n\nAnother thing Prince Houssain particularly admired was the great\nnumber of rose-sellers, who crowded the streets; for the Indians\nare such lovers of that flower, that not one will stir without a\nnosegay in his hand, or a garland on his head; and the merchants\nkeep them in pots in their shops, so that the air of the whole\nquarter, however large, is perfectly perfumed.\n\nAfter Prince Houssain had run through the quarter, street by\nstreet, his thoughts fully occupied by the riches he had seen, he\nwas very much tired, and a merchant civilly invited him to sit down\nin his shop. He accepted the offer; but had not been seated long\nbefore he saw a crier pass by with a piece of carpet on his arm,\nabout six feet square, and cry it at thirty purses. The prince\ncalled to the crier, and asked to see the carpet, which seemed to\nhim to be valued at an exorbitant price, not only for its size, but\nthe meanness of the stuff. When he had examined it well, he told\nthe crier that he could not comprehend how so small and poor a\npiece could be priced so high.\n\nThe crier, who took him for a merchant, replied, 'Sir, if this\nprice seems so extravagant to you, your amazement will be greater\nwhen I tell you I have orders to raise it to forty purses, and not\nto part with it for less.'\n\n'Certainly,' answered Prince Houssain, 'it must have something very\nextraordinary about it, which I know nothing of.'\n\n'You have guessed right, sir,' replied the crier, 'and will own as\nmuch when you come to know that whoever sits on this piece of\ncarpet may be transported in an instant wherever he desires to go\nwithout being stopped by any obstacle.'\n\nAt this the Prince of the Indies, considering that the principal\nmotive of his journey was to carry some singular curiosity home to\nthe sultan his father, thought that be could not meet with anything\nwhich could give him more satisfaction. 'If the carpet,' said he to\nthe crier, 'has the virtue you assign it, I shall not think forty\npurses too much but shall make you a present besides.'\n\n'Sir,' replied the crier, 'I have told you the truth; and it will\nbe an easy matter to convince you of it, as soon as you have made\nthe bargain for forty purses, by experiment. But as I suppose you\nhave not so much with you, and that I must go with you to the khan\nwhere you lodge, with the leave of the master of the shop we will\ngo into his back shop, and I will spread the carpet; and when we\nhave both sat down, and you have formed the wish to be transported\ninto your room at the khan, if we are not transported thither it\nshall be no bargain. 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\nThe prince accepted the conditions, and concluded the bargain; and\nhaving obtained the master's leave, they went into his back shop;\nthey both sat down on the carpet, and as soon as the prince wished\nto be transported into his room at the khan, he found himself and\nthe crier there, and as he wanted no more convincing proof of the\nvirtue of the carpet, he counted to the crier forty purses of gold,\nand gave him twenty pieces for himself.\n\nIn this manner Prince Houssain became the possessor of the carpet,\nand was overjoyed that on his arrival at Bisnagar he had found so\nrare a treasure, which he never doubted would gain him the Princess\nNouronnihar. In short he looked upon it as an impossible thing for\nthe princes, his younger brothers, to meet with anything to compare\nwith it. It was in his power, by sitting on this carpet, to be at\nthe place of rendezvous that very day; but as he was obliged to\nwait for his brothers, as they had agreed, and as he was curious to\nsee the King of Bisnagar and his court, and to learn about the\nlaws, customs, and religion of the kingdom, he chose to make a\nlonger abode there.\n\nIt was a custom of the King of Bisnagar to give audience to all\nstrange merchants once a week; and Prince Houssain, who remained\nincognito, saw him often; and as he was handsome, clever, and\nextremely polite, he easily distinguished himself among the\nmerchants, and was preferred before them all by the sultan, who\nasked him about the Sultan of the Indies, and the government,\nstrength, and 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 other things he visited\na temple, all built 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 whichever side\nthey turned. Besides this, there was another not less curious, in a\nvillage in the midst of a plain of about ten acres, which was a\ndelicious garden full of roses and the choicest flowers, surrounded\nwith a small wall breast high, to keep the cattle out. In the midst\nof this plain was raised a terrace, a man's height, so nicely paved\nthat the whole pavement seemed to be but one single stone. A temple\nwas erected in the middle of this terrace, with a dome about fifty\ncubits high, which might be seen for several leagues round. It was\nthirty cubits long, and twenty broad, built of red marble, highly\npolished. The inside of the dome was adorned with three rows of fine\npaintings, in good taste: and there was not a place in the whole\ntemple but was embellished with paintings, bas-reliefs, and figures\nof idols from top to bottom.\n\nEvery night and morning there were ceremonies performed in this\ntemple, which were always succeeded by sports, concerts, dancing,\nsinging, and feasts. The ministers of the temple and the inhabitants\nof the place had nothing to live on but the offerings of pilgrims,\nwho came in crowds from the most distant parts of the kingdom to\nperform 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 the\ngovernors and judges of towns, and the Brahmins 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\ninnumerable multitudes of Indians, met in a plain of vast extent, as\nfar as the eye could reach. In the centre of this plain was a square\nof great length and breadth, closed on one side by a large\nscaffolding of nine stories, supported by forty pillars, raised for\nthe king and his court, and those strangers whom he admitted to\naudience once a week. Inside, it was adorned and furnished\nmagnificently; and on the outside were painted fine landscapes,\nwherein all sorts of beasts, birds, and insects, even flies and\ngnats, were drawn as naturally as possible. Other scaffolds of at\nleast four or five stories, and painted almost all alike, formed the\nother three sides.\n\nOn each side of the square, at some little distance from each other,\nwere ranged a thousand elephants, sumptuously harnessed, each having\nupon his back a square wooden castle, finely gilt, in which were\nmusicians and actors. 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 was to see the largest\nof these elephants stand with his four feet on a post fixed into\nthe earth, two feet high, playing and beating time with his trunk\nto the music. Besides this, he admired another elephant as big,\nstanding on a board, which was laid across a strong beam about ten\nfeet high, with a great weight at the other end which balanced him,\nwhile he kept time with the music by the motions of his body and\ntrunk.\n\nPrince Houssain might have made a longer stay in the kingdom and\ncourt of Bisnagar, where he would have seen other wonders, till the\nlast day of the year, whereon he and his brothers had appointed to\nmeet. But he was so well satisfied with what he had seen, and his\nthoughts ran so much upon the Princess Nouronnihar, that he fancied\nhe should be the more easy and happy the nearer he was to her.\nAfter he had paid the master of the khan for his apartment, and\ntold him the hour when he might come for the key, without telling\nhim how he should go, he shut the door, put the key on the outside,\nand spreading the carpet, he and the officer he had brought with\nhim sat down on it, and, as soon as he had wished, were transported\nto the inn at which he and his brothers were to meet, where he\npassed for a merchant till they came.\n\nPrince Ali, the second brother, travelled into Persia with a\ncaravan, and after four months' travelling arrived at Schiraz,\nwhich was then the capital of the kingdom of Persia, and having on\nthe way made friends with some merchants, passed for a jeweller,\nand lodged in the same khan with them.\n\nThe next morning, while the merchants were opening their bales of\nmerchandise, Prince Ali took a walk into that quarter of the town\nwhere they sold precious stones, gold and silver work, brocades,\nsilks, fine linens, and other choice and valuable merchandise,\nwhich was at Schiraz called the bezestein. It was a spacious and\nwell-built place, arched over, and supported by large pillars;\nalong the walls, within and without, were shops. Prince Ali soon\nrambled through the bezestein, and with admiration judged of the\nriches of the place by the prodigious quantities of most precious\nmerchandise there exposed to view.\n\nBut among all the criers who passed backwards and forwards with\nseveral sorts of things to sell, he was not a little surprised to\nsee one who held in his hand an ivory tube about a foot in length\nand about an inch thick, and cried it at thirty purses. At first he\nthought the crier mad, and to make sure, went to a shop, and said\nto the merchant, who stood at the door, 'Pray, sir, is not that man\nmad? If he is not, I am very much deceived.'\n\n'Indeed, sir,' answered the merchant, 'he was in his right senses\nyesterday, and I can assure you he is one of the ablest criers we\nhave, and the most employed of any when anything valuable is to be\nsold; and if he cries the ivory tube at thirty purses, it must be\nworth as much, or more, for some reason or other which does not\nappear. He will come by presently, and we will call him; in the\nmeantime sit down on my sofa and rest yourself.'\n\nPrince Ali accepted the merchant's obliging offer, and presently\nthe crier passed by. The merchant called him by his name; and\npointing to the prince, said to him, 'Tell that gentleman, who\nasked me if you were in your right senses, what you mean by crying\nthat ivory tube, which seems not to be worth much, at thirty\npurses: I should be very much amazed myself, if I did not know you\nwere a sensible man.'\n\nThe crier, addressing himself to Prince Ali, said, 'Sir, you are\nnot the only person that takes me for a madman on account of this\ntube; you shall judge yourself whether I am or no, when I have told\nyou its peculiarity. First, sir,' pursued the crier, presenting the\nivory tube to the prince, 'observe that this tube is furnished with\na glass at both ends; by looking through one of them you see\nwhatever object you wish to behold.'\n\n'I am,' said the prince, 'ready to make you all proper reparation\nfor the scandal I have thrown on you, if you will make the truth of\nwhat you say appear'; and as he had the ivory tube in his hand, he\nsaid, 'Show me at which of these ends I must look.' The crier\nshowed him, and he looked through, wishing at the same time to see\nthe sultan, his father. He immediately beheld him in perfect\nhealth, sitting on his throne, in the midst of his council.\nAfterwards, as there was nothing in the world so dear to him, after\nthe sultan, as the Princess Nouronnihar, he wished to see her, and\nsaw her laughing, and in a pleasant humour, with her women about\nher.\n\nPrince Ali needed no other proof to persuade him that this tube was\nthe most valuable thing, not only in the city of Schiraz, but in\nall the world; and he believed that, if he should neglect it, he\nwould 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, so\ntell me the lowest price the seller has fixed upon it. Come with\nme, and I will pay you the money.' The crier assured him that his\nlast orders were to take no less than forty purses; and, if he\ndisputed the truth of what he said, he would take him to his\nemployer. The prince believed him, took him to the khan where he\nlodged, counted out the money, and received the tube.\n\nPrince Ali was overjoyed at his bargain; and persuaded himself\nthat, as his brothers would not be able to meet with anything so\nrare and marvellous, the Princess Nouronnihar would be his wife. He\nthought now of visiting the court of Persia incognito, and seeing\nwhatever was curious in and about Schiraz, till the caravan with\nwhich he came returned back to the Indies. When the caravan was\nready to set out, the prince joined them, and arrived without any\naccident or trouble at the place of rendezvous, where he found\nPrince Houssain, and both waited for Prince Ahmed.\n\nPrince Ahmed took the road to Samarcand; and the day after his\narrival there went, as his brothers had done, into the bezestein.\nHe had not walked long before 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\ntell me what virtue or extraordinary property it has, to be valued\nat so high a rate.'\n\n'Sir,' said the crier, putting it into his hand, 'if you look at\nthe outside of this apple, it is very ordinary; but if you consider\nthe great use and benefit it is to mankind, you will say it is\ninvaluable. He who possesses it is master of a great treasure. It\ncures all sick persons of the most mortal diseases, fever,\npleurisy, plague, or other malignant distempers; and, if the\npatient is dying, it will immediately restore him to perfect\nhealth; and this is done after the easiest manner in the world,\nmerely by the patient smelling the apple.'\n\n'If one may believe you,' replied Prince Ahmed, 'the virtues of\nthis apple are wonderful, and it is indeed valuable: but what\nground has a plain man like myself, who may wish to become the\npurchaser, to be persuaded that there is no deception or\nexaggeration in the high praise you bestow on it?'\n\n'Sir,' replied the crier, 'the thing is known and averred by the\nwhole city of Samarcand; but, without going any further, ask all\nthese merchants you see here, and hear what they say; several of\nthem would not have been alive this day if they had not made use of\nthis excellent remedy. It is the result of the study and experience\nof a celebrated philosopher of this city, who applied himself all\nhis life to the knowledge of plants and minerals, and at last\nperformed such surprising cures in this city as will never be\nforgotten; but he died suddenly himself, before he could apply his\nown sovereign remedy, and left his wife and a great many young\nchildren behind him in very indifferent circumstances; to support\nher family, and provide for her children, she has resolved to sell\nit.'\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\nfavourable opportunity to show Prince Ahmed the experiment. Upon\nwhich Prince Ahmed told the crier he would give him forty purses if\nhe cured the sick person by letting him smell at 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; it is an undoubted fact that it will always have\nthe same effect as it already has had in recovering from death many\nsick persons whose life was despaired of.'\n\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 meantime he saw all that was\ncurious in and about Samarcand, especially the valley of Sogda, so\ncalled from the river which waters it, and is reckoned by the\nArabians to be one of the four paradises of this world, for the\nbeauty of its fields and gardens and fine palaces, and for its\nfertility in fruit of all sorts, and all the other pleasures\nenjoyed there in the fine season.\n\nAt last Prince Ahmed joined the first caravan that returned to the\nIndies, and arrived in perfect health at the inn where the Princes\nHoussain and Ali were waiting for him.\n\nPrince Ali, who was there some time before Prince Ahmed, asked\nPrince Houssain, who got there first, how long he had been there;\nhe told him three months: to which he replied, 'Then certainly you\nhave not been very far.'\n\n'I will tell you nothing now,' said Prince Houssain, 'but only\nassure you I was more than three months travelling to the place I\nwent to.'\n\n'But then,' replied Prince Ali, 'you made a short stay there.'\n\n'Indeed, brother,' said Prince Houssain, 'you are mistaken: I\nresided at one place over four or five months, and might have\nstayed longer.'\n\n'Unless you flew back,' replied Prince Ali again, 'I cannot\ncomprehend how you can have been three months here, as you would\nmake me believe.'\n\n'I tell you the truth,' added Prince Houssain, 'and it is a riddle\nwhich I shall not explain till our brother Ahmed comes; then I will\nlet you know what curiosity I have brought home from my travels. I\nknow not what you have got, but believe it to be some trifle,\nbecause I do not see that your baggage is increased.'\n\n'And pray what have you brought?' replied Prince Ali, 'for I can\nsee nothing but an ordinary piece of carpet, with which you cover\nyour sofa, and as you seem to make what you have brought a secret,\nyou cannot take it amiss that I do the same.'\n\n'I consider the rarity which I have purchased,' replied Prince\nHoussain, 'to excel all others whatever, and should not have any\nobjection to show it you, and make you agree that it is so, and at\nthe same time tell you how I came by it, without being in the least\napprehensive that what you have got is better. But we ought to wait\ntill our brother Ahmed arrives, that we may all communicate our\ngood fortune to each other.'\n\nPrince Ali would not enter into a dispute with Prince Houssain, but\nwas persuaded that, if his perspective glass were not preferable,\nit was impossible it should be inferior, and therefore agreed to\nwait till Prince Ahmed arrived, to produce his purchase.\n\nWhen Prince Ahmed came, they embraced and complimented each other\non the happiness of meeting together at the place they set out\nfrom. Then Prince Houssain, as the elder brother, said, 'Brothers,\nwe shall have time enough hereafter to entertain ourselves with the\nparticulars of our travels: let us come to that which is of the\ngreatest importance for us to know; let us not conceal from each\nother the curiosities we have brought home, but show them, that we\nmay do ourselves justice beforehand and see to which of us the\nsultan our father may give the preference.\n\n'To set the example,' continued Prince Houssain, 'I will tell you\nthat the rarity which I have brought from my travels to the kingdom\nof Bisnagar, is the carpet on which I sit, which looks but ordinary\nand makes no show; but, when I have declared its virtues to you,\nyou will be struck with admiration, and will confess you never\nheard of anything like it. Whoever sits on it as we do, and desires\nto 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, and when I had fully satisfied my\ncuriosity at the court of Bisnagar, and had a mind to return, I\nmade use of no other means than this wonderful carpet for myself\nand servant, who can tell you how long we were coming hither. I\nwill show you both the experiment whenever you please. I expect you\nto tell me whether what you have brought is to be compared to this\ncarpet.'\n\nHere Prince Houssain ended, and Prince Ali 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\nproperty you speak of. But you must allow that there may be other\nthings, I will not say more, but at least as wonderful, in another\nway; and to convince you there are, here is an ivory tube, which\nappears to the eye no more a rarity than your carpet. It cost me as\nmuch, and I am as well satisfied with my purchase as you can be\nwith yours; and you will be so just as to own that I have not been\ncheated, when you know by experience that by looking at one end you\nsee whatever you wish to behold. Take it,' added Prince Ali,\npresenting the tube to him, '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, to see the\nPrincess Nouronnihar, and to know how she was, when Prince Ali and\nPrince Ahmed, who kept their eyes fixed upon him, were extremely\nsurprised to see his countenance change suddenly with extraordinary\npain and grief. Prince Houssain would not give them time to ask\nwhat was the matter, but cried out, 'Alas! princes, to what purpose\nhave we undertaken long and fatiguing journeys? In a few moments\nour lovely princess will breathe her last. I saw her in her bed,\nsurrounded by her women and attendants, who were all in tears. Take\nthe tube, behold for yourselves the miserable state she is in.'\n\nPrince Ali took the tube out of Prince Houssain's hand and after he\nhad looked, presented it to Prince Ahmed.\n\nWhen Prince Ahmed saw that the Princess Nouronnihar's end was so\nnear, he addressed himself to his two brothers, and said, 'Princes,\nthe Princess Nouronnihar, the object of all our vows, is indeed at\ndeath's door; but provided we make haste and lose no time, we may\npreserve her life.' Then he took out the artificial apple, and\nshowing it to the princes his brothers, said to them, 'This apple\nwhich you see here cost as much as either the carpet or tube. The\nopportunity now presents itself to show you its wonderful virtue.\nNot to keep you longer in suspense, if a sick person smells it,\nthough in the last agonies, it restores him to perfect health\nimmediately. I have made the experiment, and can show you its\nwonderful effect on the Princess Nouronnihar, if we make all haste\nto assist her.'\n\n'If that is all,' replied Prince Houssain, 'we cannot make more\nhaste than by transporting ourselves instantly into her room by the\nmeans of my carpet. Come, lose no time; sit down on it by me; it is\nlarge enough to hold us all three: but first let us give orders to\nour servants to set out immediately, and join us at the palace.'\n\nAs soon as the order was given, Prince Ali and Prince Ahmed went\nand sat down by Prince Houssain, and all three framed the same\nwish, and were transported into the Princess Nouronnihar's chamber.\n\nThe presence of the three princes, who were so little expected,\nfrightened the princess's women and attendants, who could not\ncomprehend by what enchantment three men should be among them; for\nthey did not know them at first, and the attendants were ready to\nfall upon them, as people who had got into a part of the palace\nwhere they were not allowed to come; but they presently recollected\nand found their mistake.\n\nPrince Ahmed no sooner saw himself in Nouronnihar's room, and\nperceived the princess dying, than 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, just as if she had awaked out of a sound sleep. Her\nwomen informed her, in a manner that showed their joy, that she was\nobliged to the three princes her cousins, and particularly to\nPrince Ahmed, for the sudden recovery of her health. She\nimmediately expressed her joy to see them, and thanked them all\ntogether, and afterwards Prince Ahmed in particular, and they then\nretired.\n\nWhile the princess was dressing, the princes went to throw\nthemselves at the sultan their father's feet, and pay their\nrespects to him. The sultan received and embraced them with the\ngreatest joy, both for their return and for the wonderful recovery\nof the princess his niece, whom he loved as if she had been his own\ndaughter, and who had been given over by the physicians. After the\nusual compliments, the princes presented each the curiosity which\nhe had brought: Prince Houssain his carpet, which he had taken care\nnot to leave behind him in the princess's chamber; Prince Ali his\nivory tube, and Prince Ahmed the artificial apple; and after each\nhad commended his present, when they put it into the sultan's\nhands, they begged 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, without interrupting them, and being well informed of\nwhat had happened in relation to the Princess Nouronnihar's cure,\nremained some time silent, as if he were thinking what answer he\nshould make. At last he broke silence, and said to them in terms\nfull of wisdom, 'I would declare for one of you, my children, with\na great deal of pleasure, if I could do so with justice; but\nconsider whether I can. It is true, Prince Ahmed, the princess my\nniece is obliged to your artificial apple for her cure, but let me\nask you, whether you could have been so serviceable to her if you\nhad not known by Prince Ali's tube the danger she was in, and if\nPrince Houssain's carpet had not brought you to her so soon?\n\n'Your tube, Prince Ali, informed you and your brothers that you\nwere likely to lose the princess your cousin, and so far she is\ngreatly obliged to you. You must also grant that that knowledge\nwould have been of no service without the artificial apple and the\ncarpet.\n\n'And for you, Prince Houssain, consider that it would have been of\nlittle use if you had not been acquainted with the princess's\nillness by Prince Ali's tube, and Prince Ahmed had not applied his\nartificial apple. Therefore, as neither the carpet, the ivory tube,\nnor the artificial apple has the least preference one over the\nother, but, on the contrary, there is a perfect equality, I cannot\ngrant the princess to any one of you, and the only fruit you have\nreaped from your travels is the glory of having equally contributed\nto restore her to health.\n\n'If this be true,' added the sultan, 'you see that I must have\nrecourse to other means to determine with certainty in the choice I\nought to make among you, and as there is time enough between this\nand night, I will do it to-day. Go, and get each of you a bow and\narrow, and repair to the great plain outside the city, where the\nhorses are exercised. I will soon come to you, and I declare I will\ngive the Princess Nouronnihar to him that shoots the farthest.\n\n'I do not, however, forget to thank you all in general, and each in\nparticular, for the presents you brought me. I have a great many\nrarities in my museum already, but nothing that comes up to the\ncarpet, the ivory tube, and the artificial apple, which shall have\nthe first place among them, and shall be preserved carefully, not\nonly for show, but to make an advantageous use of them upon all\noccasions.'\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\ngreat concourse of people.\n\nThe sultan did not make them wait long; and as soon as he arrived,\nPrince Houssain, as the eldest, took his bow and arrow, and shot\nfirst. Prince Ali shot next, and much beyond him; and Prince Ahmed\nlast of all; but it so happened, that nobody could see where his\narrow fell; and, notwithstanding all the search of himself and\neverybody else, it was not to be found far or near. And though it\nwas believed that he shot the farthest, and that he therefore\ndeserved the Princess Nouronnihar, it was necessary that his arrow\nshould be found, to make the matter evident and certain; so,\nnotwithstanding his remonstrances, the sultan determined in favour\nof Prince Ali, and gave orders for preparations to be made for the\nwedding, which was celebrated a few days afterwards with great\nmagnificence.\n\n\n\n\n\n                    PRINCE AHMED AND THE FAIRY.\n\n\n\nPrince Houssain would not honour the feast with his presence; he\ncould scarcely endure to see the princess in the arms of Prince\nAli, who, he said, did not deserve her better or love her more than\nhimself. He left the court, and, renouncing all right of succession\nto the crown, turned dervish, and put himself under the discipline\nof a famous sheik, who had gained a reputation for his exemplary\nlife, and had taken up his abode, together with his disciples,\nwhose number was great, in an agreeable solitude.\n\nPrince Ahmed did not assist at Prince Ali's and the Princess\nNouronnihar's wedding, any more than his brother Houssain, but did\nnot renounce the world as he had done. He could not imagine what\nhad become of his arrow, so he stole away from his attendants, and\nresolved to search for it, that he might not have anything to\nreproach himself with. With this intention, he went to the place\nwhere the Princes Houssain's and Ali's were gathered up, and going\nstraight forward from thence, looked carefully on both sides of\nhim. He went so far, that at last he began to think his labour was\nin vain; yet he could not help going forwards, till he came to some\nsteep, craggy rocks, which would have obliged him to return, had he\nbeen ever so anxious to proceed. They were situated in a barren\ncountry, about four leagues distant from whence he set out. When\nPrince Ahmed came near these rocks, he perceived an arrow, which he\npicked up, looked earnestly at it, and was in the greatest\nastonishment to find it was the same he shot. 'Certainly,' said he\nto himself, 'neither I nor any man living could shoot an arrow so\nfar'; and finding it laid flat, not sticking into the ground, he\njudged that it had rebounded from the rock. 'There must be some\nmystery 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.' As these rocks were full of\nsharp points and crevices between them, the prince, full of these\nthoughts, entered a cavity, and looking about, cast his eyes on an\niron door, which seemed to have no lock. He feared it was fastened;\nbut pushing against it, it opened, and discovered an easy descent,\nbut no steps. He walked down with his arrow in his hand. At first\nhe thought he was going into a dark place, but presently a quite\ndifferent light succeeded that which he had come out of. Coming\nupon a spacious square, fifty or sixty paces distant, he perceived\na magnificent palace; but he had not time to look at it, for at the\nsame moment a lady of majestic air, and of a beauty to which the\nrichness of her clothes and the jewels which adorned her person\nadded nothing, advanced as far as the porch, attended by a troop of\nladies, of whom it was difficult to distinguish which was the\nmistress.\n\nAs soon as Prince Ahmed perceived the lady, he hastened to pay his\nrespects; and the lady, on her part, seeing him coming, was\nbeforehand with him. Raising her voice, she said, 'Come near,\nPrince 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 near his father's capital,\nand he could not comprehend how he should be known to a lady who\nwas a stranger to him. At last he returned the lady's salutation,\nby throwing himself at her feet, and rising up again, said to her,\n'Madam, I return you a thousand thanks for welcoming me to a place\nwhere I had reason to believe my imprudent curiosity had made me\npenetrate too far. But, madam, may I, without being guilty of\nrudeness, presume to ask you how you know me? and why you, who live\nin the same neighbourhood should be so little known by me?'\n\n'Prince,' said the lady, 'let us go into the hall; there I will\ngratify your request.'\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\nto him so wonderful that he had never in his life beheld anything\nlike it, and believed that nothing was to be compared to it. 'I can\nassure you,' replied the lady, 'that this is but a small part of my\npalace, and you will say so when you have seen all the apartments.'\nThen she sat down on a sofa; and when the prince at her entreaty\nhad seated himself, she said, 'You are surprised, you say, that I\nshould know you, and not be known by you; but you will no longer be\nsurprised when I inform you who I am. You cannot be ignorant that\nthe world is inhabited by genies as well as men: I am the daughter\nof one of the most powerful and distinguished of these genies, and\nmy name is Pari Banou: therefore I know you, the sultan your\nfather, the princes your brothers, and the Princess Nouronnihar. I\nam no stranger to your love or your travels, of which I could tell\nyou all the circumstances, since it was I myself who exposed for\nsale the artificial apple which you bought at Samarcand, the carpet\nwhich Prince Houssain met with at Bisnagar, and the tube which\nPrince Ali brought from Schiraz. This is sufficient to let you know\nthat I am not unacquainted with anything that relates to you. The\nonly thing I have to add is, that you seemed to me worthy of a\nstill better fortune than that of marrying the Princess\nNouronnihar. I was present when you drew your arrow, and foresaw it\nwould not go beyond Prince Houssain's. I took it in the air, and\nmade it strike against the rocks near which you found it. It is in\nyour power to avail yourself of this favourable opportunity.'\n\nAs the fairy Pari Banou pronounced these words Prince Ahmed began\nto consider that the Princess Nouronnihar could never be his, and\nthat the fairy Pari Banou excelled her infinitely in beauty and\nagreeableness, and, so far as he could judge from the magnificence\nof the palace where she resided, in immense riches. 'Madam,'\nreplied he, 'should I, all my life, have had the happiness of being\nyour slave, I should think myself the happiest of men. Pardon me my\nboldness, and do not refuse to admit into your court a prince who\nis entirely devoted to you.'\n\n'Prince,' answered the fairy, 'as I have been a long time my own\nmistress, and am not dependent on my parents' consent, it is not as\na slave that I would admit you into my court, but as my husband,\npledging your faith to me. I am, as I said, mistress here; and must\nadd, that the same customs are not observed among fairies as among\nother ladies.'\n\nPrince Ahmed made no answer, but was so full of gratitude that he\nthought he could not express it better than by coming to kiss the\nhem of her garment. 'Then,' answered the fairy, 'you are my\nhusband, and I am your wife. But as I suppose,' continued she,\n'that you have eaten nothing to-day, a slight repast shall be\nserved up for you while preparations are making for our wedding\nfeast this evening, and then I will show you the apartments of my\npalace, and you shall judge if this hall is the smallest part of\nit.'\n\nSome of the fairy's women who came into the hall with them, and\nguessed her intentions, immediately went out, and returned\npresently with some excellent meat and wine.\n\nWhen Prince Ahmed had eaten and drunk as much as he wanted, the\nfairy Pari Banou took him through all the rooms, where he saw\ndiamonds, 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, everything was in such profusion, that the prince\nacknowledged that there could not be anything in the world that\ncould come up to it. 'Prince,' said the fairy, 'if you admire so\nmuch my palace, which is indeed very beautiful, what would you say\nto the palaces of the chiefs of our genies, which are much more\nbeautiful, spacious, and magnificent? I could also charm you with\nmy garden; but we will leave that till another time. Night draws\nnear, and it will be time for supper.'\n\nThe next hall into which the fairy led the prince, where the cloth\nwas laid for the feast, was the only room the prince had not seen,\nand it was not in the least inferior to the others. He admired the\ninfinite number of wax candles perfumed with amber which formed an\nagreeable and pleasant sight. A large sideboard was set out with\nall sorts of gold plate, so finely wrought that the workmanship was\nmuch more valuable than the weight of the gold. Several beautiful\nwomen richly dressed, whose voices were ravishing, began a concert,\naccompanied with all kinds of the most harmonious instruments he\nhad ever heard. When they had sat down to table, the fairy Pari\nBanou took care to help Prince Ahmed to most delicious meats, which\nthe prince had never heard of, but found so nice that he commended\nthem in the highest terms, saying that they far surpassed those\namong men. He found also the same excellence in the wines, which\nneither he nor the fairy tasted till the dessert was served up,\nwhich consisted of 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\nwith cushions of fine silk, curiously embroidered with all sorts of\nlarge flowers, at their backs, and a great number of genie and\nfairies danced before them.\n\nThe days following the wedding were a continual feast, which the\nfairy Pari Banou, who could do it with the utmost ease, knew how to\ndiversify by new dishes, new concerts, new dances, new shows, and\nnew diversions; which were all so extraordinary, that Prince Ahmed,\nif he had lived a thousand years among men, could not have\nimagined.\n\nAt the end of six months, Prince Ahmed, who always loved and\nhonoured the sultan his father, felt a great desire to know how he\nwas; and as that desire could not be satisfied without his\nabsenting himself to go and hear it in person, he mentioned it to\nthe fairy, and desired she would give him leave.\n\nThis discourse alarmed the fairy, and made her fear it was only an\nexcuse to leave her.\n\n'My queen,' replied the prince, 'if you are offended at the leave I\nasked, I entreat you to forgive me, and I will make all the\nreparation I can. I did not do it with any intention of displeasing\nyou, but from a motive of respect towards my father, whom I wish to\nfree from the affliction in which my long absence must have\noverwhelmed him; indeed I have reason to think he believes me\ndead.'\n\n'Prince,' said she, 'I am so fully convinced that I can depend upon\nyour sincerity, that I grant you leave to go, on condition that\nyour absence shall not be long.'\n\nPrince Ahmed would have thrown himself at the fairy's feet, to show\nhis gratitude; but she prevented him.\n\n'Prince,' said she, 'go when you please; but first do not take it\namiss if I give you some advice how you shall conduct yourself\nwhere you are going. First, I do not think it proper for you to\ntell the sultan your father of our marriage, nor what I am, nor the\nplace where you are settled. Beg him to be satisfied with knowing\nthat you are happy, and that you desire no more; and let him know\nthat the sole end of your visit is to make him easy about your\nfate.'\n\nShe appointed twenty horsemen, well mounted and equipped, to attend\nhim. When all was ready, Prince Ahmed took leave of the fairy,\nembraced her, and renewed his promise to return soon. Then his\nhorse, which was as beautiful a creature as any in the Sultan of\nthe Indies' stables, was brought, and he mounted him with an\nextraordinary grace, which gave great pleasure to the fairy, and\nafter he had bid her a last adieu, set out on his journey.\n\nAs it was not a great way to his father's capital, Prince Ahmed\nsoon arrived there. The people, glad to see him again, received him\nwith acclamations, and followed him in crowds to the sultan's\npalace. The sultan received and embraced him with great joy;\ncomplaining at the same time with a fatherly tenderness, of the\naffliction his long absence had been to him; which he said was the\nmore grievous, since as fortune had decided in favour of Prince Ali\nhis brother, he was afraid he might have committed some act of\ndespair.\n\n'Sir,' replied Prince Ahmed, 'your majesty knows that when I shot\nmy arrow the most extraordinary thing that ever befell anybody\nhappened to me, that in so large and level a plain it should not be\npossible to find my arrow. Though thus vanquished, I lost no time\nin vain complaints; but to satisfy my perplexed mind, I gave my\nattendants the slip, and returned back again alone to look for my\narrow. I sought all about the place where Prince Houssain's and\nPrince Ali's arrows were found, and where I imagined mine must have\nfallen; but all my labour was in vain, until after having gone four\nleagues, to that part of the plain where it is bounded by rocks, I\nperceived an arrow. I ran and took it up, and knew it to be the\nsame which I had shot. Far from thinking your majesty had done me\nany injustice in declaring for my brother Prince Ali, I interpreted\nwhat had happened to me quite otherwise, and never doubted but\nthere was a mystery in it to my advantage; the discovery of which I\nought not to neglect, and which I found out without going further\nfrom the spot. But as to this mystery, I beg your majesty to let me\nremain silent, and that you will be satisfied to know from my own\nmouth that I am happy and contented. This was the only motive which\nbrought me hither; the only favour I ask of your majesty is to give\nme leave to come often and pay you my respects, and inquire after\nyour health.'\n\n'Son,' answered the Sultan of the Indies, 'I cannot refuse you the\nleave you ask me; but I would much rather you would resolve to stay\nwith me. At least tell me where I may hear of you, if you should\nfail to come, or when I may think your presence necessary.'\n\n'Sir,' replied Prince Ahmed, 'what your majesty asks of me is part\nof the mystery I spoke of. I beg of you to give me leave to remain\nsilent on this head; for I shall come so frequently where my duty\ncalls, that I am afraid I shall sooner be thought troublesome than\nbe accused of negligence in my duty.'\n\nThe Sultan of the Indies pressed Prince Ahmed no more; but said to\nhim, 'Son, I penetrate no further into your secrets, but leave you\nat your 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 will always\nbe welcome when you come.'\n\nPrince Ahmed stayed but three days at the sultan his father's\ncourt, and on the fourth returned to the fairy Pari Banou, who\nreceived him with great joy, as she did not expect him so soon.\n\nA month after Prince Ahmed's 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,\nas if there had been no such person in the world, whereas before he\nwas always speaking of him, she said to him one day, 'Tell me,\nprince, have you forgotten the sultan your father? Do you not\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. Pay him another visit to-morrow, and\nafter that go and see him once a month, without speaking to me, or\nwaiting 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's favourites, who judged of Prince\nAhmed's grandeur and power by the figure he made, abused the\nliberty 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 or income\nassigned him; that he seemed to come to court only to brave him;\nand that it was to be feared he might stir up the people's favour\nand 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 assured of his tenderness and fidelity. Be it as it\nwill, I do not believe my son Ahmed is so wicked as you would\npersuade me he is; however, I am obliged to you for your good\nadvice, and do not doubt that it proceeds from a good intention.'\n\nThe Sultan of the Indies said this that his favourites might not\nknow the impression their hints had made on his mind. He was,\nhowever, so much alarmed that he resolved to have Prince Ahmed\nwatched, unknown to his grand vizier. For this end he sent for a\nsorceress, who was introduced by a private door into his room. 'My\nson Ahmed comes to my court every month; but I cannot learn from\nhim where he resides, and I do not wish to force his secret out of\nhim; but I believe you are capable of satisfying my curiosity,\nwithout letting him, or any of my court, know anything of the\nmatter. You know that at present he is here with me, and is used to\ngo away without taking leave of me, or any of my court. Go\nimmediately out on the road, find out where he retires, and bring\nme word.'\n\nThe magician left the sultan, and knowing the place where Prince\nAhmed found his arrow, went thither and hid herself near the rocks,\nso that nobody could see her.\n\nThe next morning Prince Ahmed set out by daybreak, without taking\nleave either of the sultan or of any of his court, according to\ncustom. The magician, seeing him coming, followed him with her\neyes, till all of a sudden she lost sight of him and his\nattendants.\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; the prince had retired either into some\ncavern, or into some place underground, the abode of genies or\nfairies. When she thought the prince and his attendants were out of\nsight, she came out of the place where she had hidden herself, and\nwent direct to the hollow where she had seen them go in. She\nentered it, and proceeded to the spot where it terminated in many\nwindings, looking carefully about on all sides. But notwithstanding\nall her diligence she could perceive no opening, nor the iron gate\nwhich Prince Ahmed discovered. For this door was to be seen by and\nopened to none but men, and only to men whose presence was\nagreeable to the fairy Pari Banou, and not at all to women.\n\nThe magician, who saw it was in vain for her to search any further,\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, that it will be no\ndifficult matter to give you the satisfaction you desire concerning\nPrince Ahmed's conduct. To do this, I only ask time, and that you\nwill have patience, and give me leave to do it without inquiring\nwhat measures I intend to take.'\n\nThe sultan was very well pleased with the magician's conduct, and\nsaid to her, 'Do as you think fit: I will wait patiently,' and to\nencourage her, he made her a present of a diamond of great value,\ntelling her it was only an earnest of the ample reward she should\nreceive when she had done him that important service, which he left\nto her management.\n\nAs Prince Ahmed, after he had obtained the fairy Pari Banou's leave\nto go to the Sultan of the Indies' court, never failed once a\nmonth, and the magician knew the time, she went a day or two before\nto the foot of the rock where she had lost sight of the prince and\nhis attendants, and waited there with a plan 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,\nwhom he knew not to be such. Seeing her lie with her head on the\nrock, complaining as if she were in great pain, he pitied her,\nturned his horse about and went and asked her what was the matter,\nand what he could do to relieve her.\n\nThe artful sorceress, without lifting up her head, looked at the\nprince, and answered in broken words and sighs, as if she could\nhardly fetch her breath, that she was going to the city, but on the\nway thither was taken with so violent a fever that her strength\nfailed her, and she was forced to stop and lie down, far from any\nhabitation, and without any hope of assistance.\n\n'Good woman,' replied Prince Ahmed, 'you are not so far from help\nas you imagine. I am ready to assist you, and to convey you where\nyou shall not only have all possible care taken of you, but where\nyou will find a speedy cure; only get up, and let one of my people\ntake you.'\n\nAt these words, the magician, who pretended illness only to know\nwhere the prince lived, did not refuse the kind offer he made her\nso freely, and to show her acceptance rather by action than by\nword, she made many affected efforts to get up, pretending that her\nillness prevented her. At the same time two of the prince's\nattendants alighted off their horses, helped her up, and set her\nbehind another. They mounted their horses again, and followed the\nprince, who turned back to the iron gate, which was opened by one\nof his retinue who rode before. When he came into the outer court\nof the fairy's palace, without dismounting, he sent to tell her he\nwanted to speak to her.\n\nThe fairy Pari Banou came with all haste, not knowing what made\nPrince Ahmed return so soon. Not giving her time to ask him, he\nsaid, 'My princess, I desire you would have compassion on this good\nwoman,' pointing to the magician, who was taken off the horse by\ntwo of his retinue: 'I found her in the condition you see, and\npromised her the assistance she stands in need of. I commend her to\nyour care, and am persuaded that you will not abandon her.'\n\nThe fairy Pari Banou, who had her eyes fixed upon the pretended\nsick woman all the time that the prince was talking, ordered two of\nthe women who followed her to take her from the two men that held\nher up, and carry her into the palace, and take as much care of her\nas they could.\n\nWhilst the two women executed the fairy's commands, she went up to\nPrince Ahmed, and whispering in his ear said, 'Prince, I commend\nyour compassion, which is worthy of you, but give me leave to tell\nyou that I am afraid it will be but ill rewarded. This woman is not\nso ill as she pretends to be; and I am very much mistaken if she is\nnot sent hither on purpose to cause 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 may be laid for\nyou. Go and pursue your journey.'\n\nThis discourse of the fairy's did not in the least alarm Prince\nAhmed. 'My princess,' said he, 'as I do not remember I ever did, or\ndesigned to do, anybody an injury, I cannot believe anybody 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 out again for his father's\ncapital, where he soon arrived, and was received as usual by the\nsultan, who restrained himself as much as possible, to disguise the\ntrouble arising from the suspicions suggested by his favourites.\n\nIn the meantime, 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\nbed, the quilt of which was finely embroidered with silk, the\nsheets of the finest linen, and the coverlid cloth of gold. When\nthey had put her into bed (for the old sorceress pretended that her\nfever was so violent that she could not help herself in the least),\none of the women went out and soon returned again with a china cup\nin her hand full of a certain liquor, which she presented to the\nmagician, while the other helped her to sit up. 'Drink this,' said\nshe, 'it is the water of the fountain of lions, and a sovereign\nremedy against all fevers whatsoever. You will find the effect of\nit in less than an hour's time.'\n\nThe magician, to dissemble the better, took it after a great deal\nof entreaty, as if she was very much averse to having it, but at\nlast taking the china cup, and shaking her head, as if she did\ngreat violence to herself, swallowed the liquor. When she had lain\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\nan hour hence.'\n\nThe magician, who came not to act a sick part long, but only to\ndiscover Prince Ahmed's retreat, and what made him leave his\nfather's court, being fully satisfied in what she wanted to know,\nwould willingly have declared that the potion had had its effects\nthen, so great was her desire to return to the sultan, and 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 await the\nwomen's 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; when she\nsaw them open the door she cried out, 'Oh, the admirable potion! it\nhas wrought its cure much sooner than you told me it would, and I\nhave waited a long time with impatience, to desire you to take me\nto your charitable mistress to thank her for her kindness, for\nwhich I shall always be obliged to her. Being thus cured as by a\nmiracle, I had rather not lose time, but continue 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 into a large hall, the most richly and magnificently\nfurnished of all the palace.\n\nPari Banou was seated in this hall, on a throne of massy gold,\nattended on each hand by a great number of beautiful fairies, all\nrichly dressed. At the sight of so much majesty, the magician was\nso dazzled, that after she had prostrated herself before the\nthrone, she could not open her lips to thank the fairy, as she\nproposed. However, Pari Banou saved her the trouble, and said to\nher, 'Good woman, I am glad I had the opportunity of obliging you,\nand to see you are able to pursue your journey. I will not detain\nyou, but perhaps you may not be displeased to see my palace; follow\nmy women, and they will show it to 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 apartments which were\nshown to Prince Ahmed on his first arrival there. But what\nsurprised her most of all was, that the two fairies told her that\nall she saw and admired so much was a mere sketch of their\nmistress's 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 architecture, equally magnificent\nand superb. They led her at last to the iron gate at which Prince\nAhmed brought her in, and after she had taken her leave of them,\nand thanked them for their trouble, they opened it, and wished her\na pleasant 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.\nExcept in this, she was very well satisfied with her work, and\nposted away to the sultan. When she came to the capital, she went\nby a great many by-ways to the private door of the palace. The\nsultan being informed of her arrival, sent for her into his\napartment and perceiving a melancholy look on her countenance, he\nthought she had not succeeded, and said to her, 'By your looks I\nguess that you have not made the discovery I expected from you.'\n\n'Sir,' replied the magician, 'your majesty must give me leave to\nrepresent that you ought not to judge by my looks whether or no I\nhave acquitted myself well as regards the commands you were pleased\nto honour me with. The melancholy you observe proceeds from another\ncause than the want of success.'\n\nThen the magician related to the Sultan of the Indies the whole\nstory of all that happened from beginning to end.\n\nWhen the magician had ended, she said, 'What does your majesty\nthink of these unheard-of riches of the fairy? Perhaps you will say\nyou rejoice at the good fortune of Prince Ahmed your son. For my\npart, sir, I beg of your majesty to forgive me if I take the\nliberty to say that I think otherwise, and that I shudder when I\nconsider the misfortunes which may happen to you. And this is the\ncause of the melancholy which you perceived. I would believe that\nPrince Ahmed, by his own good disposition, is incapable of\nundertaking anything against your majesty; but who can say that the\nfairy, by the influence she already has over him, may not inspire\nhim with a dangerous design of dethroning your majesty, and seizing\nthe crown of the Indies? This is what your majesty ought to\nconsider serious and of the utmost importance.'\n\nThough the Sultan of the Indies was very sure that Prince Ahmed's\nnatural disposition was good, yet he could not help being uneasy at\nthe remarks of the old sorceress, and said, 'I thank you for the\npains you have taken, and your wholesome caution. I am so aware of\nthe great importance it is to me, that I shall take advice upon\nit.'\n\nHe had been consulting with his favourites, when he was told of the\nmagician's 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's influence over the\nprince, and asked them what measures they thought most proper to\nprevent so great a misfortune. One of the favourites, taking upon\nhimself to speak for the rest, said, 'Your majesty knows who must\nbe the author of this mischief. In order to prevent it, now that he\nis 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 that the\nzeal of your councillors for your majesty's interest makes them\npropose arresting Prince Ahmed: but they will not take it amiss if\nI suggest to your and their consideration, that if you arrest the\nprince, you must also detain his retinue. But they are all genies.\nDo they think it will be so easy to surprise, seize, and secure\ntheir persons? Will they not disappear, by the property they\npossess of rendering themselves invisible, and transport themselves\ninstantly to the fairy, and give her an account of the insult\noffered to her husband? And can it be supposed she will let it go\nunrevenged? But it would be better, if, by any other means which\nmight not make so great a noise, the sultan could secure himself\nagainst any ill designs Prince Ahmed may have against him, and not\ninvolve his majesty's honour. If his majesty has any confidence in\nmy advice, as genies and fairies can do things impracticable to\nmen, he will touch Prince Ahmed's honour, and engage him, by means\nof the fairy, to procure certain advantages. For example, every\ntime your majesty takes the field you are obliged to go to a great\nexpense, not only in pavilions and tents for yourself and army, but\nlikewise in mules and camels, and other beasts of burden, to carry\ntheir baggage. Might you not request him to use his interest with\nthe fairy to procure you a tent which might be carried in a man's\nhand, and which should be large enough to shelter your whole army?\n\n'I 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,\nso that at last he may sink under the difficulties and the\nimpossibility of executing them, however fertile in invention the\nfairy who has enticed him from you by her enchantments may be; so\nthat in time he will be ashamed to appear, and will be forced to\npass the rest of his life with his fairy, excluded from any\nconnection with this world; and then your majesty will have nothing\nto fear, and cannot be reproached with so detestable an action as\nthe shedding of a son's blood, or confining him in a prison for\nlife.'\n\nWhen the magician had finished her speech, the sultan asked his\nfavourites if they had anything better to propose; and finding them\nall silent, determined to follow the magician's advice, as the most\nreasonable and the most suited to his mild manner of government.\n\nThe next day, when the prince came into his father's presence and\nhad sat down by him, after a conversation on different subjects,\nthe sultan said, 'Son, when you came and dispelled those clouds of\nmelancholy which your long absence had brought upon me, you made\nthe place you had chosen for your retreat a mystery to me. I was\nsatisfied with seeing you again, and knowing that you were content\nwith your condition, without wishing 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. I know your good fortune; I rejoice\nwith you, and very much approve of your conduct in marrying a fairy\nso worthy of your love, and so rich and powerful, as I am informed.\nPowerful as I am, it was not possible for me to have procured so\ngreat a match for you. Now that you are raised to so high a rank as\nto be envied by everybody but a father like me, I not only desire\nyou to preserve the good understanding we have lived in hitherto,\nbut to use all your credit with your fairy to obtain for me her\nassistance when I want it. I therefore will make a trial this day.\n\n'I am persuaded you could easily procure from her a pavilion that\nmight be carried in a man's hand, yet which would extend over my\nwhole army; especially when you let her know it is for me. Though\nit may be a difficult thing, she will not refuse you. All the world\nknows that fairies are capable of doing the most extraordinary\nthings.'\n\nPrince Ahmed never expected that the sultan his father would have\nasked a thing which, at first sight, appeared to him so difficult,\nnot to say impossible. Though he knew not absolutely how great the\npower of genies and fairies was, he doubted whether it extended so\nfar as to furnish a tent such as his father desired. Moreover, he\nhad never asked anything like it of the fairy Pari Banou, but was\nsatisfied with her continual kindness; therefore he was in the\ngreatest embarrassment what answer to make. At last he replied,\n'If, sir, I have concealed from your majesty what happened to me\nand what course I took after 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 that your information is correct. 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 any experiment of or\nthought of, and should be very glad if 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 everything. 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 to obtain it;\nand 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 I\ndesire you to forgive me beforehand, and consider that you yourself\nhave reduced me to this extremity.'\n\n'Son,' replied the Sultan of the Indies, 'I should be very sorry\nthat what I ask of you should prevent my ever seeing you again. Go,\nonly ask her. Think with yourself, that as you love her, you could\nrefuse her nothing; therefore, if she loves you, she will not deny\nyour request.'\n\nAll this discourse of the Sultan of the Indies could not persuade\nPrince Ahmed, who would rather he had asked anything than the risk\nof displeasing his dear Pari Banou; and so great was his vexation,\nthat he left the court two days sooner than usual.\n\nWhen he returned, the fairy, to whom he had always before appeared\nwith a cheerful countenance, asked him the reason of the\nalteration; and finding that instead of answering her, he inquired\nafter her health to avoid satisfying her, she said to him, 'I will\nanswer your question when you have answered mine.' The prince\ndeclined it a long time, protesting that nothing was the matter\nwith him; but the more he denied it, the more she pressed him, and\nsaid, 'I cannot bear to see you in this condition: tell me what\nmakes you so uneasy, that I may remove the cause of it, whatever it\nmay be; for it must be very extraordinary if it is out of my\npower.'\n\nPrince Ahmed could not long withstand the fairy. 'Madam,' said he,\n'God prolong the sultan my father's life, and bless him to the end\nof his days. I left him alive, and in perfect health: therefore\nthat is not the cause of the melancholy you perceive in me. The\nsultan has imposed upon me the disagreeable task of worrying you.\nYou know the care I have taken, with your approbation, to conceal\nfrom him my happiness at home with you. How he has been informed of\nit I cannot tell.'\n\nHere the fairy Pari Banou interrupted Prince Ahmed, and said, 'But\nI know. Remember what I told you of the woman who made you believe\nshe was ill, on whom you took so much compassion. It is she who has\nacquainted the sultan your father with what you took so much care\nto hide from him. I told you that she was no more sick than you or\nI, for, after the two women whom I charged to take care of her had\ngiven her the water sovereign against all fevers, which, however,\nshe had no occasion for, she pretended that the water had cured\nher, and was brought to take leave of me, that she might go sooner\nto give an account of the success of her undertaking. She was in so\nmuch haste that she would have gone away without seeing my palace,\nif I had not, by bidding my two women show it her, given her to\nunderstand that it was worth her seeing. But go on and tell me what\nis the necessity your father has imposed on you which has made you\nfeel troublesome to me, which I desire you will be persuaded you\ncan never be.'\n\n'Madam,' pursued Prince Ahmed, 'you may have observed that hitherto\nI have never asked you any favour, for what, after the possession\nof so kind a wife, can I desire more? I know how great your power\nis, but I have taken care not to make trial of it. Consider then, I\nbeg you, that it is not me, but the sultan my father, who,\nindiscreetly, as I think, asks of you a pavilion large enough to\nshelter him, his court, and his army, from the violence of the\nweather, when he takes the field, and yet small enough for a man to\ncarry in his hand. Once more remember it is not I, but the sultan\nmy father who asks this favour.'\n\n'Prince,' replied the fairy, smiling, 'I am sorry that so small a\nmatter should disturb you, and make you so uneasy. I see plainly\ntwo things have contributed towards it: one is, the law you have\nimposed upon yourself, to be content with loving me and being\nbeloved by me, and to deny yourself the liberty of asking me the\nleast favour that might try my power. The other, I do not doubt,\nwhatever you may say, was that you thought what your father asked\nof me was out of my power. As to the first, I commend you for it,\nand shall love you the better, if possible; and for the second, I\nmust tell you that what the sultan your father asks of me is a\ntrifle; and upon occasion, I can do much more difficult things.\nTherefore be easy, and persuaded that, far from feeling worried, I\nshall always take great pleasure in whatever you can desire me to\ndo for your sake.' Then the fairy sent for her treasurer, to whom\nshe said 'Nourgihan' (which was her name), 'bring me the largest\npavilion in my treasury.' Nourgihan returned presently with a\npavilion, which could not only be held but concealed in the palm of\nthe hand when it was closed, and presented it to her mistress, who\ngave it to Prince Ahmed to look at.\n\nWhen Prince Ahmed saw the pavilion, which the fairy called the\nlargest in her treasury, he fancied she was joking, and his\nsurprise appeared in his face. Pari Banou burst out laughing.\n'What! Prince,' cried she, 'do you think I jest with you? You will\nsee presently that I am in earnest. Nourgihan' said she to her\ntreasurer, taking the tent out of Prince Ahmed's hands, 'go and set\nit up, that the prince may judge whether the sultan his father will\nthink it large enough.'\n\nThe treasurer immediately went out from the palace, and carried it\nto such a distance that when she had set it up one end reached to\nthe palace. The prince, so far from thinking it small, found it\nlarge enough to shelter two armies as numerous as that of the\nsultan his father; and then said to Pari Banou, 'I ask my princess\na thousand pardons for my incredulity: after what I have seen, I\nbelieve there is nothing impossible to you.'\n\n'You see,' said the fairy, 'that the pavilion is larger than your\nfather may have occasion for; but you are to observe that it\nbecomes larger or smaller, according to the army it is to cover,\nwithout being touched.'\n\nThe treasurer took down the tent again, reduced it to its first\nsize, and brought it and put it into the prince's hands. He took\nit, and next day mounted his horse and went with the usual\nattendants to the sultan his father.\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's\ndiligence. He took the tent and admired its smallness. But when he\nhad set it up in the great plain, and found it large enough to\nshelter an army twice as large as he could bring into the field,\nhis amazement was so great that he could not recover himself. As he\nthought this might be troublesome in use, Prince Ahmed told him\nthat its size would always be proportionate to his army.\n\nTo outward appearance the sultan expressed great obligation 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 became more jealous than ever; considering that\nby the fairy's assistance the prince his son might perform things\nthat were infinitely above his own power, notwithstanding his\ngreatness and riches; and, therefore, more intent upon his ruin, he\nwent to consult the magician again, who advised him to request the\nprince to bring him some of the water of the fountain of lions.\n\nIn the evening, when the sultan was surrounded as usual by all his\ncourt, and the prince came to pay his respects among the rest, he\nsaid to him: 'Son, I have already expressed how much I am obliged\nto you for the present of the tent you have procured me, which I\nlook upon as the most valuable thing in my treasury; but you must\ndo one thing more for me. I am informed that the fairy your wife\nmakes use of a certain water, called the water of the fountain of\nlions, which cures all sorts of fevers, even the most dangerous;\nand as I am perfectly sure that my health is dear to you, I do not\ndoubt that you will ask her for a bottle of that water for me, and\nbring it me as a sovereign remedy, which I may make use of when I\nhave occasion. Do me this service, and complete the duty of a good\nson towards a tender father.'\n\nPrince Ahmed, who had believed that the sultan his father would\nhave been satisfied with so singular and useful a tent as that\nwhich he had brought, and that he would not have imposed any new\ntask upon him which might hazard the fairy's displeasure; was\nthunderstruck at this new request, notwithstanding the assurance\nshe had given him of granting him whatever lay in her power. After\na long silence, he said, 'I beg of your majesty to be assured that\nthere is nothing I would not undertake to prolong your life, but I\nwish it might not be by means of my wife. For this reason I dare\nnot promise to bring the water. All I can do is to assure you I\nwill ask her; but it will be with as great reluctance as when I\nasked for the tent.'\n\nThe next morning Prince Ahmed returned to the fairy Pari Banou, and\nrelated to her sincerely and faithfully all that had passed at the\nsultan his father's court, from the giving of the tent, which he\ntold her he received with the utmost gratitude, to the new request\nhe had charged him to make, and when he had done, he added: 'but,\nmy princess, I only tell you this as a plain account of what passed\nbetween me and my father. I leave you to your own discretion to\ngratify or reject this new desire. It shall be as you please.'\n\n'No, no,' replied the fairy Pari Banou, 'whatever advice the\nmagician can give him (for I see that he hearkens to her), he shall\nfind no fault with you or me. There is a great deal of wickedness\nin this demand, as you will understand by what I am going to tell\nyou. The fountain of lions is situated in the middle of a court of\na great castle, the entrance into which is guarded by four fierce\nlions, two of which sleep while the other two are awake\nalternately. But let not that frighten you. I will give you means\nto pass by them without any danger.'\n\nThe fairy Pari Banou was at that time hard at work with her needle;\nand as she had by her several balls of thread, she took up one, and\npresenting it to Prince Ahmed, said, 'First take this ball of\nthread; I will tell you presently the use of it. In the second\nplace, you must have two horses; one you will ride yourself, and\nthe other you will lead, which must be loaded with a sheep cut into\nfour quarters, and killed to-day. In the third place, you must be\nprovided 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 ball of thread, which will roll\ntill it comes to the gates of the castle. When it stops, as the\ngates will be open, you will see the four lions. The two that are\nawake 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\nbottle without alighting, and then return with the same speed. The\nlions will be so busy eating that they will let you pass.'\n\nPrince Ahmed set out the next morning at the time appointed by the\nfairy, and followed her directions carefully. When he arrived at\nthe gates of the castle, he distributed the quarters of the sheep\namong the four lions, and passing through the midst of them with\nhaste, got to the fountain, filled his bottle, and returned as safe\nand sound as he went. When he was a little distance from the castle\ngates, he turned round; and perceiving two of the lions coming\nafter him, he drew his sabre, and prepared for defence. But as he\nwent forward, he saw one of them turned off the road, and showed by\nhis head and tail that he did not come to do him any harm, but only\nto go before him, and that the other stayed behind to follow. He\ntherefore put his sword again into its scabbard. Guarded in this\nmanner he arrived at the capital of the Indies; but the lions never\nleft him till they had conducted him to the gates of the sultan's\npalace; after which they returned the way they came, though not\nwithout frightening all that saw them, who fled or hid themselves,\nthough they walked gently, and showed no signs of fierceness.\n\nA great many officers came to attend the prince while he\ndismounted, and conducted him to the apartments of the sultan, who\nwas at that time conversing with his favourites. He approached the\nthrone, laid the bottle at the sultan's feet, kissed the rich\ncarpet which covered the footstool, and rising, said, 'I have\nbrought you, sir, the health-giving water which your majesty so\nmuch desired to keep in your treasury; but at the same time wish\nyou such health that you may never have occasion to make use of\nit.'\n\nAfter the prince had finished speaking, the sultan placed him on\nhis right hand, and then said, 'Son, I am very much obliged to you\nfor this valuable present; also for the great danger you have\nexposed yourself to upon my account, which I have been informed of\nby the magician who knows the fountain of lions; but do me the\npleasure,' continued he, 'to tell me by what incredible power you\nhave been preserved.'\n\n'Sir,' replied Prince Ahmed, 'I have no share in the compliment\nyour majesty is pleased to make me; all the honour is due to the\nfairy my wife; I merely followed her good advice.' The sultan\nshowed outwardly all the demonstrations of joy, but secretly became\nmore and more jealous, retired into an inner apartment, and sent\nfor the magician.\n\nAfter conferring with her, the sultan next day said to the prince,\nin the midst of all his courtiers, 'Son, I have one thing more to\nask of you; after which, I shall expect nothing more from your\nobedience, nor your influence with your wife. This request is, to\nbring me a man not above a foot and a half high, whose beard is\nthirty feet long, who carries upon his shoulders a bar of iron of\nfive hundredweight which he uses as a quarterstaff, and who can\nspeak.'\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 that the fairy\ncould do more incredible things.\n\nNext day the prince returned to the subterranean kingdom of Pari\nBanou, to whom he told his father's new demand, which, he said, he\nlooked upon as more impossible than the first two; 'for,' added he,\n'I cannot imagine that there is or can be such a man in the world:\neither he has a mind to try whether I am silly enough to go and\nseek him; or if there is such a man, he seeks my ruin. How can he\nsuppose that I should get hold of a man so small, armed as he\ndescribes? What arms could I make use of to reduce him to\nsubmission?'\n\n'Do not affright yourself, prince,' replied the fairy; 'you ran a\nrisk in fetching the water of the fountain of lions for your\nfather; but there is no danger in finding this man. It is my\nbrother, Schaibar, who is so far from being like me, though we both\nhad the same father, that he is of so violent a nature that nothing\ncan prevent his giving gory marks of his resentment for a slight\noffence; yet, on the other hand, he is so good as to oblige any one\nin whatever they desire. He is made exactly as the sultan your\nfather has described him; and he has no other arms than a bar of\niron five hundred pounds in weight, without which he never stirs,\nand which makes him respected. I will send for him, and you shall\njudge of the truth of what I tell you; and prepare not to be\nfrightened when you see him.'\n\n'What! my queen,' replied Prince Ahmed, 'do you say Schaibar is\nyour brother? Let him be ever so ugly or deformed, I shall love and\nhonour him, and 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. Taking\nsome incense out of this, and throwing it into the fire, there\narose a thick cloud of smoke.\n\nSome moments after, the fairy said to Prince Ahmed, 'Prince, here\ncomes my brother; do you see him?'\n\nThe prince immediately perceived Schaibar, who was but a foot and a\nhalf high, coming gravely with his heavy bar on his shoulder; his\nbeard, thirty feet long, supported itself before him, and a pair of\nthick moustaches were tucked up to his ears, almost covering his\nface: his eyes were very small, like a pig's, and sunk deep in his\nhead, which was of an enormous size, and on which he wore a pointed\ncap: besides all this, he had a hump behind and before.\n\nIf Prince Ahmed had not known that Schaibar was Pari Banou's\nbrother, he would not have been able to look at him without fear;\nbut knowing beforehand who he was, he waited for him with the\nfairy, and received him without the least concern.\n\nSchaibar, as he came forward, looked at the prince with an eye that\nmight have chilled his soul in his body, and asked Pari Banou who\nthat man was.\n\nTo which she replied: 'He is my husband, brother; his name is\nAhmed; he is son to the Sultan of the Indies. The reason why I did\nnot invite you to my wedding was that I was unwilling to divert you\nfrom the expedition you were engaged in, and from which I heard\nwith pleasure that you returned victorious; on his account I have\ntaken the liberty now to send for you.'\n\nAt these words, Schaibar, looking at Prince Ahmed with a favourable\neye, which however diminished neither his fierceness nor his savage\nlook, said, 'Is there anything, sister, in which I can serve him?\nhe has only to speak. It is enough for me that he is your husband.'\n\n'The sultan his father,' replied Pari Banou, 'has a curiosity to\nsee you, and I desire he may be your guide to the Sultan's court.'\n\n'He need but lead the way; I will follow him,' replied Schaibar.\n\n'Brother,' replied Pari Banou, 'it is too late to go to-day,\ntherefore stay till to-morrow morning; and in the meantime, as it\nis desirable that you should know all that has passed between the\nSultan of the Indies and Prince Ahmed since our marriage, I will\ntell you this evening.'\n\nNext morning, after Schaibar had been informed of all that was\nproper for him to know, he set out with 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 than they ran and hid\nthemselves in their shops and houses, and shut their doors; while\nothers took to their heels, and communicated their fear to all they\nmet, who did not wait to look behind them, but ran too; insomuch\nthat Schaibar and Prince Ahmed, as they went along, found all the\nstreets and squares deserted, till they came to the palace, where\nthe porters, instead of preventing Schaibar from entering, also ran\naway; so that the prince and he advanced without any obstacle to\nthe council-hall, where the sultan was seated on his throne giving\naudience. Here likewise the officers, at the approach of Schaibar,\nabandoned their posts.\n\nSchaibar, carrying his head erect, went fiercely up to the throne,\nwithout waiting to be introduced by Prince Ahmed, and accosted the\nSultan of the Indies in these words:\n\n'You have asked for me, see, here I am: what do you want with me?'\n\nThe sultan, instead of answering, clapt his hands before his eyes,\nand 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 the Sultan had given him the trouble to come so\nfar, that he instantly lifted up his iron bar, and saying, 'Speak\nthen,' let it fall on his head, and killed him before Prince Ahmed\ncould intercede in his behalf. All that he could do was to prevent\nhis killing the grand vizier, who sat not far from him on his right\nhand, representing to him that he had always given the sultan his\nfather good advice.\n\n'These are they then,' said Schaibar, 'who gave him bad advice;'\nand as he pronounced these words, he killed all the other viziers\non the right and left, flatterers and favourites of the sultan, who\nwere Prince Ahmed's enemies. Every time he struck, he killed some\none or other, and none escaped but they who, not rendered\nmotionless by 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 on\nhis shoulder, and looking at the grand vizier, who owed his life to\nPrince Ahmed, he said, 'I know there is a certain sorceress, who is\na greater enemy of the prince my brother-in-law than all those base\nfavourites I have chastised; let her be brought to me at once.' The\ngrand vizier immediately sent for her, and as soon as she was\nbrought, Schaibar said, knocking her down with his iron bar, 'Take\nthe reward of thy pernicious counsel, and learn to feign illness\nagain:' and left her dead on the spot.\n\nAfter this he said, 'This is not enough; I will treat the whole\ncity in 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\nimmediately afterwards he was proclaimed throughout the whole town\nSchaibar made him be clothed in the royal vestments, installed him\non the throne, and after he had made all do homage and fidelity to\nhim, went and fetched his sister Pari Banou, whom he brought with\ngreat pomp, and made her acknowledged Sultaness of the Indies.\n\nAs for Prince Ali and Princess Nouronnihar, as they had no hand in\nthe conspiracy against Prince Ahmed, nor knew of any such\nconspiracy, Prince Ahmed assigned them a considerable province,\nwith its capital, where they spent the rest of their lives.\nAfterwards he sent an officer to Prince Houssain to acquaint him\nwith the change, and to make him an offer of whichever province he\nliked best; but that prince thought himself so happy in his\nsolitude that he bade the officer return the Sultan his brother\nthanks for his kindness, assuring him of his submission; and saying\nthat the only favour he desired was leave to live retired in the\nplace he had made choice of for his retreat.\n\n\n\n\n\n          PRINCE CAMARALZAMAN AND THE PRINCESS OF CHINA.\n\n\n\nAbout twenty days' sail from the coast of Persia, in the Islands of\nthe Children of Khaledan, there lived a king who had an only son,\nPrince Camaralzaman. He was brought up with all imaginable care;\nand when he came to a proper age, his father appointed him an\nexperienced governor and able tutors. As he grew up he learned all\nthe knowledge which a prince ought to possess, and acquitted\nhimself so well that he charmed all that saw him, and particularly\nthe sultan his father.\n\nWhen the prince had attained the age of fifteen years, the sultan,\nwho loved him tenderly, and gave him every day new marks of his\naffection, had thoughts of giving him a still greater one, by\nresigning to him his throne, and he acquainted his grand vizier\nwith his intentions. 'I fear,' said he, 'lest my son should lose in\nthe inactivity of youth those advantages which nature and education\nhave given him; therefore, since I am advanced in age, and ought to\nthink of retirement, I have thoughts of resigning the government to\nhim, and passing the remainder of my days in the satisfaction of\nseeing him reign. I have undergone the fatigue of a crown a long\nwhile, and think it is now proper for me to retire.'\n\nThe grand vizier did not wholly dissuade the sultan from such a\nproceeding, but sought to modify his intentions. 'Sir,' replied he,\n'the prince is yet but young, and it would not be, in my humble\nopinion, advisable to burden him with the weight of a crown so\nsoon. Your majesty fears, with great reason, his youth may be\ncorrupted in indolence, but to remedy that do not you think it\nwould be proper to marry him? Your majesty might then admit him to\nyour council, where he would learn by degrees the art of reigning,\nand so be prepared to receive your authority whenever in your\ndiscernment you shall think him qualified.'\n\nThe sultan found this advice of his prime minister highly\nreasonable, therefore he summoned the prince to appear before him\nat the 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\nthis summons; when, therefore, he came before him, he saluted him\nwith great respect, and stood with his eyes fixed on the ground.\n\nThe sultan perceiving his constraint, said to him in a mild way,\n'Do you know, son, for what reason I have sent for you?'\n\nThe prince modestly replied, 'God alone knows the heart; I shall\nhear it from your majesty with pleasure.'\n\n'I sent for you,' said the sultan, 'to inform you that I have an\nintention of providing a proper marriage for you; what do you think\nof 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' 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. It\nrequires time to determine on what your majesty requires of me.'\n\nPrince Camaralzaman's answer extremely afflicted his father. He was\nnot 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 the proposal.\n\nThe sultan 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 what I proposed to you last year about\nmarrying? Will you still refuse me that pleasure I expect from your\nobedience, and suffer me to die without it?'\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 your proposal, but after the maturest reflection find\nmyself more confirmed in my resolution to continue as I am, so that\nI hope your majesty will pardon me if I presume to tell you it will\nbe in vain to speak to me any further about marriage.' He stopped\nhere, and went out without staying to hear what the sultan would\nanswer.\n\nAny other monarch would have been very angry at such freedom in a\nson, and would have made him repent it, but the sultan loved him,\nand preferred gentle methods before he proceeded to compulsion. He\ncommunicated this new cause of discontent to his prime minister. 'I\nhave followed your advice,' said he, 'but Camaralzaman is further\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. Tell me, I beseech you, how I shall\nreclaim a disposition so rebellious to my will?'\n\n'Sir,' answered the grand vizier, 'patience brings many things\nabout that before seemed impracticable, but it may be this affair\nis of a nature not likely to succeed in that way. Your majesty\nwould have no cause to reproach yourself if you gave the prince\nanother year to consider the matter. If, in this interval he\nreturns to his duty, you will have the greater satisfaction, and if\nhe still continues averse to your proposal when this is expired,\nyour majesty may propose 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 before so grave an assembly,\nwhich you honour with your presence.'\n\nThe year expired, and, to the great regret of the sultan, Prince\nCamaralzaman gave not the least proof of having changed his mind.\nOne day, therefore, when there was a great council held, the prime\nvizier, the other viziers, the principal officers of the crown, and\nthe generals of the army being present, the sultan began to speak\nthus to the prince: 'My son, it is now a long while since I have\nexpressed to you my earnest desire to see you married; and I\nimagined you would have had more consideration for a father, who\nrequired nothing unreasonable of you, than to oppose him so long.\nBut after so long a resistance on your part, which has almost worn\nout my patience, I have thought fit to propose the same thing once\nmore to you in the presence of my council. I would have you\nconsider that you ought not to have refused this, not merely to\noblige a parent; the well-being of my dominions requires it; and\nthe assembly here present joins with me to require it of you.\nDeclare yourself, then; that, according to your answer, I may take\nthe proper measures.'\n\nThe prince answered with so little reserve, or rather with so much\nwarmth, that the sultan, enraged to see himself thwarted in full\ncouncil, cried out, 'Unnatural son! have you the insolence to talk\nthus to your father and sultan?' He ordered the guards to take him\naway, and carry him to an old tower that had been unoccupied for a\nlong while, where he was shut up, with only a bed, a little\nfurniture, some books, and one slave to attend him.\n\nCamaralzaman, thus deprived of liberty, was nevertheless pleased\nthat he had the freedom to converse with his books, and that made\nhim look on his imprisonment with indifference. In the evening he\nbathed and said his prayers; and after having read some chapters in\nthe Koran, with the same tranquility of mind as if he had been in\nthe sultan's palace, he undressed himself and went to bed, leaving\nhis lamp 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's chamber, and\nentered, without stopping, over the slave who lay at the door.\n\nPrince Camaralzaman had but half-covered his face with the\nbedclothes, and Maimoune perceived the finest young man she had\nseen in all her rambles through the world. 'What crime can he have\ncommitted,' said she to herself, 'that a man of his high rank can\ndeserve to be treated thus severely?' for she had already heard his\nstory, 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 took her flight into the air. As she\nmounted high to the middle region, she heard a great flapping of\nwings, which made her fly that way; and when she approached, she\nknew it was a genie who made the noise, but it was one of those\nthat are rebellious. As for Maimoune, she belonged to that class\nwhom the great Solomon compelled to acknowledge him.\n\nThis genie, whose name was Danhasch, knew Maimoune, and was seized\nwith fear, being sensible how much power she had over him by her\nsubmission to the Almighty. He would fain have avoided her, but she\nwas so near him that he must either fight or yield. He therefore\nbroke silence first.\n\n'Brave Maimoune,' said he, in the tone of a suppliant, 'swear to me\nthat you will not hurt me; and I swear also on my part not to do\nyou any harm.'\n\n'Cursed genie,' replied Maimoune, 'what hurt canst thou do me? I\nfear thee not; but I will grant thee this favour; I will swear not\nto do thee any harm. Tell me then, wandering spirit, whence thou\ncomest, what thou hast seen, and what thou hast done this night.'\n\n'Fair lady,' answered Danhasch, 'you meet me at a good time to hear\nsomething very wonderful. I come from the utmost limits of China,\nwhich look on the last islands of this hemisphere. But, charming\nMaimoune,' said Danhasch, who so trembled with fear at the sight of\nthis fairy that he could hardly speak, 'promise me at least that\nyou will forgive me, and let me go on after I have satisfied your\ndemands.'\n\n'Go 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\ndear lady, I will tell you nothing but what is strictly true, if\nyou will but have the goodness to hear me. The country of China,\nfrom whence I come, is one of the largest and most powerful\nkingdoms of the earth. The king of this country is at present\nGaiour, who has an only daughter, the finest maiden 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 describe this brilliant\nlady. Any one that did not know the king, father of this\nincomparable princess would scarcely be able to imagine the great\nrespect and kindness he shows her. No one has ever dreamed of such\ncare as his to keep her from every one but the man who is to marry\nher: and, that the retreat which he has resolved to place her in\nmay not seem irksome to her, he has built for her seven palaces,\nthe most extraordinary and magnificent that ever were known.\n\n'The first palace is of rock crystal, the second of copper, the\nthird of fine steel, the fourth of brass, the fifth of touchstone,\nthe sixth of silver, and the seventh of massy gold. He has\nfurnished these palaces most sumptuously, each in a manner suited\nto the materials that they are built of. He has filled the gardens\nwith grass and flowers, intermixed with pieces of water, water-\nworks, fountains, canals, cascades, and several great groves of\ntrees, where the eye is lost in the prospect, and where the sun\nnever enters, and all differently arranged. King Gaiour, in a word,\nhas shown that he has spared no expense.\n\n'Upon the fame of this incomparable princess's 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 compel his daughter to marry\nwithout her consent, and as she did not like any of the suitors,\nthe ambassadors were forced to return as they came: they were\nperfectly satisfied with the great honours and civilities they had\nreceived.'\n\n'\"Sir,\" 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 anywhere\nelse, to whatsoever husband I should give my hand; men love ever to\nbe masters, and I do not care to be commanded.\"\n\n'At last there came an embassy from the most rich and potent king\nof all. This prince the King of China recommended to his daughter\nas her husband, urging many powerful arguments to show how much it\nwould be to her advantage to accept him, but she intreated her\nfather to dispense with her accepting him for the same reasons as\nbefore, and at last lost all the respect due to the king her\nfather: \"Sir,\" said she, in anger, \"talk to me no more of this or\nany other match, unless you would have me plunge this poniard in my\nbosom, to deliver myself from your importunities.\"\n\n'The 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 of whom had been\nher nurse. And in order 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 that she was\nreally mad, he charged them to make known in every court that if\nthere were any physician that would undertake to come and cure her,\nhe should, if he succeeded, marry her for his pains.\n\n'Fair Maimoune,' continued Danhasch, 'all that I have told you is\ntrue; and I have not failed to go every day regularly to\ncontemplate this incomparable beauty, to whom I would be very sorry\nto do the least harm, notwithstanding my natural inclination to\nmischief. Come and see her, I conjure you; it would be well worth\nyour while; I am ready to wait on you as a guide, and you have only\nto command me. I doubt not that you would think yourself obliged to\nme for the sight of a princess unequalled for beauty.'\n\nInstead of answering Danhasch, Maimoune burst out into violent\nlaughter, which lasted for some time; and Danhasch, not knowing\nwhat might be the occasion of it, was astonished beyond measure.\nWhen she had laughed till she could laugh no more, she cried,\n'Good, good, very good! you would have me believe all you have told\nme: I thought you intended to tell me something surprising and\nextraordinary, and you have been talking all this while of a mad\nwoman. What would you say, cursed genie, if you had seen the\nbeautiful prince that I have just come from seeing? I am confident\nyou would soon give up the contest, and not pretend to compare your\nchoice with mine.'\n\n'Agreeable Maimoune,' replied Danhasch, 'may I presume to ask you\nwho is this prince you speak of?'\n\n'Know,' answered Maimoune, 'the same thing has happened to him as\nto your princess. The king his father would have married him\nagainst his will; but, after much importunity, he frankly told him\nhe would have nothing to do with a wife. For this reason he is at\nthis moment imprisoned in an old tower which I make my residence,\nand whence I came but just now from admiring him.'\n\n'I 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.'\n\n'Hold thy tongue, cursed sprite,' replied Maimoune. 'I tell thee\nonce more that that can never be.'\n\n'I will not contend with you,' said Danhasch; 'but the way to be\nconvinced whether what I say is true or false is to accept the\nproposal I made you to go and see my princess, and after that I\nwill go with you to your prince.'\n\n'There is no need I should take so much pains' replied Maimoune;\n'there is another way to satisfy us both; and that is for you to\nbring your princess, and place her in my prince's room; by this\nmeans it will be easy for us to compare them together and determine\nthe dispute.'\n\nDanhasch consented to what Maimoune had proposed, and determined to\nset out immediately for China upon that errand. But Maimoune told\nhim she must first show him the tower whither he was to bring the\nprincess. They flew together to the tower, and when Maimoune had\nshown it to Danhasch, she cried, 'Go, fetch your princess, and do\nit quickly, for you shall find me here: but listen, you shall pay\nthe wager if my prince is more beautiful than your princess, and I\nwill pay it if your princess is more 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\nthe tower of Prince Camaralzaman, where they placed the princess\nstill asleep.\n\nAt once there arose a great contest between the genie and the fairy\nabout their respective beauty. They were some time admiring and\ncomparing them without speaking: at length Danhasch broke silence,\nand said to Maimoune, 'You see, as I have already told you, my\nprincess is handsomer than your prince; now, I hope, you are\nconvinced of it.'\n\n'Convinced of it!' replied Maimoune; 'I am not convinced of it, and\nyou must be blind if you cannot see that my prince is far\nhandsomer. The princess is fair, I do not deny; but if you compare\nthem together without prejudice, you will quickly see the\ndifference.'\n\n'Though I should compare them ever so often,' said Danhasch, 'I\ncould never change my opinion. I saw at first sight what I see now,\nand time will not make me see differently: however, this shall not\nhinder my yielding to you, charming Maimoune, if you desire it.'\n\n'Yield to me as a favour? I scorn it,' said Maimoune: 'I would not\nreceive a favour at the hand of such a wicked genie; I refer the\nmatter to an umpire, and if you will not consent I shall win by\nyour refusal.'\n\nDanhasch no sooner gave his consent than Maimoune stamped with her\nfoot; the earth opened, and out came a hideous, humpbacked,\nsquinting, and lame genie, with six horns on his head, and claws on\nhis hands and feet. As soon as he had come forth, and the earth had\nclosed up, he, perceiving Maimoune, cast himself at her feet, and\nthen rising up on one knee asked her what she would please to do\nwith him.\n\n'Rise, Caschcasch,' said Maimoune, 'I brought you hither to\ndetermine a difference between me and Danhasch. Look there, and\ntell me, without partiality, which is the handsomest of those two\nthat lie asleep, the young man or the young lady.'\n\nCaschcasch looked at 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\ndeceive you and betray myself, if I pretended to say that one was a\nwhit handsomer than the other: the more I examine them, the more it\nseems to me that each possesses, in a sovereign degree, the beauty\nwhich is betwixt them. But if there be any difference, the best way\nto determine it is to awaken them one after the other, and by their\nconduct to decide which ought to be deemed the most beautiful.'\n\nThis proposal of Caschcasch's pleased equally both Maimoune and\nDanhasch. Maimoune then changed herself into a gnat, and leaping on\nthe prince's neck stung him so smartly that he awoke, and put up\nhis hand to the place; but Maimoune skipped away, and resumed her\nown form, which, like those of the two genies, was invisible, the\nbetter 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, and on opening his eyes, was exceedingly\nsurprised to perceive a lady of the greatest beauty. He raised his\nhead and leaned on his elbow, the better to consider her. She was\nso beautiful that he could not help crying out, 'What beauty! my\nheart! my soul!' In saying which he kissed her with so little\ncaution that she would certainly have been awaked by it, had she\nnot slept sounder than ordinary, through the enchantment of\nDanhasch.\n\nHe was going to awaken her at that instant, but suddenly refrained\nhimself. 'Is not this she,' said he, 'that the sultan my father\nwould have had me marry? He was in the wrong not to let me see her\nsooner. I should not have offended him by my disobedience and\npassionate language to him in public, and he would have spared\nhimself the confusion which I have occasioned him.'\n\nThe prince began to repent sincerely of the fault he had committed,\nand was once more upon the point of waking the Princess of China.\n'It may be,' said he, recollecting himself, 'that the sultan my\nfather has a mind to surprise me with this young lady. Who knows\nbut he has brought her himself, and is hidden behind the curtains\nto make me ashamed of myself. I will content myself with this ring,\nas 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 its place. After\nthis he fell into a more profound sleep than before through the\nenchantment of the genies.\n\nAs soon as Prince Camaralzaman was in a sound sleep, Danhasch\ntransformed himself, and went and bit the princess so rudely on the\nlip that she forthwith awoke, started up, and opening her eyes, was\nnot a little surprised to see a beautiful young prince. From\nsurprise she proceeded to admiration, and from admiration to a\ntransport of joy.\n\n'What,' cried she, 'is it you the king my father has designed me\nfor a husband? I am indeed most unfortunate for not knowing it\nbefore, for then I should not have made him so angry with me. Wake\nthen, wake!'\n\nSo saying, she took Prince Camaralzaman by the arm and shook him so\nthat he would have awaked, had not Maimoune increased his sleep by\nenchantment. She shook him several times, and finding he did not\nwake, she seized his hand, and kissing it eagerly, perceived he had\na ring upon his finger which greatly resembled hers, and which she\nwas convinced was her own, by seeing she had another on her finger\ninstead of it. She could not comprehend how this exchange could\nhave been made. Tired with her fruitless endeavours to awaken the\nprince, she 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\nnot now see what thy contest has come to? Art thou not now\nconvinced how much thy princess is inferior to my prince? But I\npardon thee thy wager. Another time believe me when I assert\nanything.' Then turning to Caschcasch, 'As for you,' said she, 'I\nthank you for your trouble; take the princess, you and Danhasch,\nand convey her back whence he has taken her.' Danhasch and\nCaschcasch did as they were commanded, and Maimoune retired to her\nwell.\n\nPrince Camaralzaman on waking next morning looked to see if the\nlady whom he had seen the night before were there. When he found\nshe was gone, he cried out, 'I thought indeed this was a trick the\nking my father designed to play me. I am glad I was aware of it.'\nThen he waked the slave, who was still asleep, and bade him come\nand dress him, without saying anything. The slave brought a basin\nand water, and after he had washed and said his prayers, he took a\nbook and read for some time.\n\nAfter this, he called the slave, and said to him, 'Come hither, and\nlook you, do not tell me a lie. How came that lady hither, and who\nbrought her?'\n\n'My lord,' answered the slave with great astonishment, 'I know not\nwhat lady your highness speaks of.'\n\n'I speak,' said the prince, 'of her that came, or rather, that was\nbrought hither.'\n\n'My lord,' replied the slave, 'I swear I know of no such lady; and\nhow should she come in without my knowledge, since I lay at the\ndoor?'\n\n'You are a lying rascal,' replied the prince, 'and in the plot to\nvex and provoke me the more.' So saying, he gave him a box on the\near which knocked him down; and after having stamped upon him for\nsome time, he at length tied the well-rope under his arms, and\nplunged him several times into the water, neck and heels. I will\ndrown thee,' cried he, 'if thou dost not tell me speedily who this\nlady was, and who brought her.'\n\nThe slave, perplexed and half-dead, said within himself, 'The\nprince must have lost his senses through grief.' 'My lord, then,'\ncried he, in a suppliant tone, 'I beseech your highness to spare my\nlife, and I will tell you the truth.'\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\nhighness must perceive that it is impossible for me to satisfy you\nin my present condition; I beg you to give me leave to go and\nchange my clothes first.'\n\n'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\ndiscourse with his prime vizier, to whom he had just related the\ngrief in which he had passed the night on account of his son's\ndisobedience and opposition to his will. The minister endeavoured\nto comfort his master by telling him that the prince himself had\ngiven him good cause to be angry. 'Sir,' said he, 'your majesty\nneed not repent of having treated your son after this sort. Have\nbut patience to let him continue a while in prison, and assure\nyourself his temper will abate, and he will submit to all you\nrequire.'\n\nThe grand vizier had just made an end of speaking when the slave\ncame in and cast himself at the king's feet. 'My lord,' said he, 'I\nam 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; and his treatment to me, as you may see, too\nplainly proves it.' Then he proceeded to tell all the particulars\nof what Prince Camaralzaman had said to him, and the violence with\nwhich he had been treated.\n\nThe king, who did not expect to hear anything of this afflictive\nkind, said to the prime minister, 'This is very melancholy, very\ndifferent 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's\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 were punished for coming to\nfrighten the king your father.'\n\n'What,' replied the prince, 'could give my father alarm? I have\nmuch greater cause to complain of that slave.'\n\n'Prince,' answered the vizier, 'God forbid that the news which he\nhas told your father concerning you should be true; indeed, I\nmyself find it to be false, by the good temper I observe you in.'\n\n'It may be,' replied the prince, 'that he did not make himself well\nunderstood; but since you are come, who ought to know something of\nthe matter, give me leave to ask you who was that lady who was here\nlast 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\n'I give no ear to what you say,' said the prince, raising his\nvoice; 'I must know of you absolutely what is become of the lady;\nand if you hesitate to obey me, I shall soon be able to force you\nto obey me.'\n\nAt these stern words the grand vizier began to be in greater\nconfusion than before, and was thinking how to extricate himself.\nHe endeavoured to pacify the prince by good words, and begged of\nhim, in the most humble and guarded manner, to tell him if he had\nseen this lady.\n\n'Yes, yes,' answered the prince, 'I have seen her, and am very well\nsatisfied you sent her. She played the part you had given her\nadmirably well, for I could not get a word out of her. She\npretended to be asleep, but I was no sooner fallen into a slumber\nthan she arose and left me. You know all this; for I doubt not she\nhas been to make her report to you.'\n\n'My lord,' replied the vizier, 'nothing of this has been done which\nyou seem to reproach me with; neither your father nor I have sent\nthis lady you speak of; permit me therefore to remind your highness\nonce more that you have only seen this lady in a dream.'\n\n'Do you come to affront and contradict me,' said the prince in a\ngreat rage, 'and to tell me to my face that what I have told you is\na dream?' 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's 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 any\nfurther danger.' In the midst of repeated blows he cried out for\nbut a moment's audience, which the prince, after he had nearly\ntired himself with beating him, consented to give.\n\n'I own, my prince,' said the grand vizier, dissembling, 'there is\nsomething in what your highness suspects; but you cannot be\nignorant of the necessity a minister is under to obey his royal\nmaster's orders; yet, if you will but be pleased to set me at\nliberty, I will go and tell him anything on your part that you\nshall think fit to command me.'\n\n'Go then,' said the prince, 'and tell him from me that if he\npleases I will marry the lady he sent me. Do this quickly, and\nbring me a speedy answer.' The grand vizier made a profound\nreverence, and went away, not thinking himself altogether safe till\nhe had got out of the tower, and shut the door upon the prince.\n\nHe came and presented himself before the king, with a countenance\nthat sufficiently showed he had been ill-used, which the king could\nnot behold without concern. 'Well,' said the king, 'in what\ncondition did you find my son?'\n\n'Sir,' answered the vizier, 'what the slave reported to your\nmajesty is but too true.' He then began to relate his interview\nwith Camaralzaman, how he flew into a passion upon his endeavouring\nto persuade him it was impossible that the lady he spoke of should\nhave got in; the ill-treatment he had received from him; how he had\nbeen used, and by what means he made his escape.\n\nThe king, the more concerned as he loved the prince with excessive\ntenderness, resolved to find out the truth of this matter, and\ntherefore proposed himself to go and see his son in the tower,\naccompanied by the grand vizier.\n\nPrince Camaralzaman received the king his father in the tower with\ngreat respect. The king sat down, and, after he had made his son\nthe prince sit down by him, put several questions to him, which he\nanswered with great good sense. The king every now and then looked\nat the grand vizier, as intimating that he did not find his son had\nlost his wits, but rather thought he had lost his.\n\nThe king at length spoke of the lady to the prince. 'My son,' said\nhe, 'I desire you to tell me what lady it was that came here, as I\nhave been told.'\n\n'Sir,' answered Camaralzaman, 'I beg of your majesty not to give me\nmore vexation on that head, but rather to oblige me by letting me\nhave her in marriage: this young lady has charmed me. I am ready to\nreceive her at your hands with the deepest gratitude.'\n\nThe king was surprised at this answer of the prince, so remote, as\nhe thought, from the good sense he had shown before. 'My son,' said\nhe to him, 'you fill me with the greatest astonishment imaginable\nby what you now say to me; I declare to you by my crown, that is to\ndevolve upon you after me, I know not one word of the lady you\nmention; and if any such has come to you, it was altogether without\nmy knowledge. But how could she get into this tower without my\nconsent? For whatever my grand vizier told you, it was only to\nappease you: it must therefore be a mere dream; and I beg of you\nnot to believe otherwise, but to recover your senses.'\n\n'Sir,' replied the prince, 'I should be for ever unworthy of your\nmajesty's 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 awakened, and the pains he took to awaken the\nlady without effect, and how he had made the exchange of his ring\nwith that of the lady: showing the king the ring, he added, 'Sir,\nyour majesty must needs know my ring very well, you have seen it so\noften. After this, I hope you will be convinced that I have not\nlost my senses, as you have been almost made to believe.'\n\nThe king was so perfectly convinced of the truth of what his son\nhad 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\n'Son,' at length replied the king, 'after what I have just heard,\nand what I see by the ring on your finger, I cannot doubt but that\nyou have seen this lady. Would I knew who she was, and I would make\nyou happy from this moment, and I should be the happiest father in\nthe world! But where shall I find her, and how seek for her? How\ncould she get in here without my consent? Why did she come? These\nthings, I must confess, are past my finding out.' So saying, and\ntaking the prince by the hand, 'Come then, my son,' he said, 'let\nus go and be miserable together.'\n\nThe king then led his son out of the tower, and conveyed him to the\npalace, where he no sooner arrived than in despair he fell ill, and\ntook to his bed; the king shut himself up with him, and spent many\na day in weeping, without attending 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 that 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. 'I humbly beg\nyour majesty, therefore,' proceeded he, 'to pay them some\nattention; I am aware your majesty's company is a great comfort to\nthe prince, but then you must not run the risk of letting all be\nlost. Permit me to propose to your majesty to remove with the\nprince to the castle in a little island near the port, where you\nmay give audience to your subjects twice a week only; during these\nabsences the prince will be so agreeably diverted with the beauty,\nprospect, and good air of the place, that he will bear them with\nthe less uneasiness.'\n\nThe king approved this proposal; and after the castle, where he had\nnot resided for some time, had been furnished, he removed thither\nwith the prince; and, excepting the times that he gave audience, as\naforesaid, he never left him, but passed all his time by his son's\npillow, endeavouring to comfort him in sharing his grief.\n\nWhilst matters passed thus, the two genies, Danhasch and\nCaschcasch, had carried the Princess of China back to the palace\nwhere the king her father had shut her up.\n\nWhen she awoke the next morning, and found by looking to the right\nand left that Prince Camaralzaman was not by, she cried out with a\nloud voice to her women. Her nurse, who presented herself first,\ndesired to be informed what she would please to have, and if\nanything disagreeable had happened to her.\n\n'Tell me,' said the princess, 'what is become of the young man whom\nI love with all my soul?'\n\n'Madam,' replied the nurse, 'we cannot understand your highness,\nunless you will be pleased to explain yourself.'\n\n'A young man, the best and most amiable,' said the princess 'whom I\ncould not awake; I ask you where he is?'\n\n'Madam,' answered the nurse, 'your highness asks these questions to\njest with us. I beseech you to rise.'\n\n'I am in earnest,' said the princess, 'and I must know where this\nyoung man is.'\n\n'Madam,' insisted the nurse, 'how any man could come without our\nknowledge we cannot imagine, for we all slept about the door of\nyour chamber, which was locked, and I 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,\nor I will beat your brains out.'\n\nThe nurse struggled to get from her, and at last succeeded; when\nshe went immediately, with tears in her eyes, to complain to the\nqueen her mother, who was not a little surprised to see her in this\ncondition, and asked who had done this.\n\n'Madam,' began the nurse, 'you see how the princess has treated me;\nshe would certainly have murdered me, if I had not had the good\nfortune to escape out of her hands.' She then began to tell what\nhad been the cause of all that violent passion in the princess. The\nqueen was surprised to hear it, and could not guess how she came to\nbe so senseless as to take that for a reality which could be no\nother than a dream. 'Your majesty must conclude from all this,\nmadam,' continued the nurse, 'that the princess is out of her\nsenses. You will think so yourself if you go and see her.'\n\nThe queen ordered the nurse to follow her; and they went together\nto the princess's palace that very moment.\n\nThe Queen of China sat down by her daughter's bed-side, immediately\nupon her arrival in her apartment; and after she had informed\nherself about her health, she began to ask what had made her so\nangry with her nurse, that she should have treated her in the\nmanner she had done. 'Daughter,' said she, 'this is not right; and\na great princess like you should not suffer herself to be so\ntransported by passion.'\n\n'Madam,' replied the princess, 'I plainly perceive your majesty is\ncome to mock me; but I declare I will never let you rest till you\nconsent I shall marry the young man. You must know where he is, and\ntherefore I beg of your majesty to let him come to me again.'\n\n'Daughter,' answered the queen, 'you surprise me; I know nothing of\nwhat you talk of.' Then the princess lost all respect for the\nqueen: 'Madam,' replied she, 'the king my father and you persecuted\nme about marrying, when I had no inclination; I now have an\ninclination, and I will marry this young man I told you of, or I\nwill kill myself.'\n\nHere the queen endeavoured to calm the princess by soft words.\n'Daughter,' said she, 'how could any man come to you?' But instead\nof hearing her, the princess interrupted her, and flew out into\nsuch violence as obliged the queen to leave her, and retire in\ngreat affliction to inform 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's apartment, asked her if what he had\njust heard was true. 'Sir,' replied the princess, 'let us talk no\nmore of that; I only beseech your majesty to grant me the favour\nthat I may marry the young man. He was the finest and best made\nyouth the sun ever saw. I entreat you, do not refuse me. But that\nyour majesty may not longer doubt whether I have seen this young\nman, whether I did not do my utmost to awake him, without\nsucceeding, see, if you please, this ring.' She then reached forth\nher hand, and showed the king a man's ring on her finger. The king\ndid not know what to make of all this; but as he had shut her up as\nmad, he began to think her more mad than ever: therefore, without\nsaying anything more to her, for fear she might do violence to\nherself or somebody about her, he had her chained, and shut up more\nclosely than before, allowing her only the nurse to wait on her,\nwith 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\nshe was in, 'If any of you,' said he, 'is capable of undertaking\nher cure, and succeeds, I will give her to him in marriage, and\nmake him heir to my dominions and crown after my decease.'\n\nThe desire of marrying 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 to\ncure the king's daughter, and flattered himself he should succeed.\n\n'I consent,' said the king, 'but I forgot to tell you one thing,\nand that is, that if you do not succeed you shall lose your head.\nIt would not be reasonable that you should have so great a reward,\nand yet run no risk on your part; and what I say to you,' continued\nthe king, 'I say to all others that shall come after you, that they\nmay consider beforehand what they undertake.'\n\nThe emir, however, accepted the condition, and the king conducted\nhim to where the princess was. She covered her face as soon as she\nsaw them come in, and cried out, 'Your majesty surprises me by\nbringing with you a man whom I do not know, and by whom my religion\nforbids me to let myself be seen.'\n\n'Daughter,' replied the king, 'you need not be scandalized, it is\nonly one of my emirs who is come to demand you in marriage.'\n\n'It 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 understood what was\nreally the matter. He dared not explain himself to the king, who\nwould not have suffered the princess to give her hand to any other\nthan the person to whom he wished to give her with his own hand. He\ntherefore threw himself at his majesty's feet, and said, 'After\nwhat I have heard and observed, sir, it will be to no purpose for\nme to think of curing the princess, since I have no remedies suited\nto her malady, for which reason I humbly submit my life to your\nmajesty's pleasure.' The king, enraged at his incapacity and the\ntrouble he had given him, caused him immediately to be beheaded.\n\nSome days afterwards, his majesty, unwilling to have it said that\nhe had neglected his daughter's cure, put forth a proclamation in\nhis capital, to the effect that if there were any physician,\nastrologer, or magician, who would undertake to restore the\nprincess to her senses, he need only come, and he should be\nemployed, on condition of losing his head if he miscarried. He had\nthe same published in the other principal cities and towns of his\ndominions, and in the courts of the princes his neighbours.\n\nThe first that presented himself was an astrologer and magician,\nwhom the king caused to be conducted to the princess's prison. The\nastrologer drew forth out of a bag he carried under his arm an\nastrolabe, a small sphere, a chafing dish, several sorts of drugs\nfor fumigations, a brass pot, with many other things, and desired\nhe might have a fire lighted.\n\nThe princess demanded what all these preparations were for.\n\n'Madam,' answered the astrologer, 'they are to exorcise the evil\nspirit that possesses you, to shut him up in this pot, and throw\nhim into the sea.'\n\n'Foolish astrologer,' replied the princess, 'I have no occasion for\nany of your preparations, but am in my perfect senses, and you\nalone are mad. If your art can bring him I love to me, I shall be\nobliged to you; otherwise you may go about your business, for I\nhave nothing to do with you.'\n\n'Madam,' said the astrologer, 'if your case be so, I shall desist\nfrom all endeavours, believing that only the king your father can\nremedy your disaster.' So putting up his apparatus again, he\nmarched away, very much concerned that he had so easily undertaken\nto cure an imaginary malady.\n\nComing to give an account to the king of what he had done, he began\nthus boldly: 'According to what your majesty published in your\nproclamation, and what you were pleased to confirm to me yourself,\nI thought the princess was distracted, and depended on being able\nto recover her by the secrets I have long been acquainted with, but\nI soon found that your majesty alone is the physician who can cure\nher, by giving her in marriage the person whom she desires.'\n\nThe king was very much enraged at the astrologer, and had his head\ncut off upon the spot. Not to make too long a story of it, a\nhundred and fifty astrologers, physicians, and magicians all\nunderwent the same fate, and their heads were set up on poles on\nevery gate of the city.\n\nThe Princess of China's nurse had a son whose name was Marzavan,\nand who had been foster-brother to the princess, and brought up\nwith her. Their friendship was so great during their childhood, and\nall the time they had been together, that they treated each other\nas brother 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 exceedingly 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\nor 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 he demanded for what reason\nthey had been placed there, but more especially he inquired after\nthe princess his foster-sister, whom he had not forgotten. As he\ncould not receive an answer to one inquiry without the other, he\nheard at length a general account with much sorrow, waiting till he\ncould learn more from his mother, the princess's nurse.\n\nAlthough the nurse, mother to Marzavan, was very much taken up with\nthe princess, she no sooner heard that her dear son had returned\nthan she found time to come out, embrace him, and converse with him\na little. 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 shut her up, he desired to know of his mother if she\ncould not procure him a private sight of her royal mistress,\nwithout the king's knowing it. After some pause, she told him she\ncould say nothing for the present, but if he would meet her the\nnext day at the same hour, she would give him an answer.\n\nThe nurse knowing that none could approach the princess but herself\nwithout leave of the officer who commanded the guard at the gate,\naddressed herself to him, who she knew had been so lately appointed\nthat he could know nothing of what had passed at the court of\nChina. 'You know,' said she to him, 'I have brought up the\nprincess, and you may likewise have heard that I had a daughter\nwhom I brought up along with her. This daughter has since been\nmarried; yet the princess still does her the honour to love her,\nand would fain see her, but without anybody's perceiving her coming\nin or out.'\n\nThe nurse would have gone on, but the officer cried, 'Say no more;\nI will with pleasure do anything to oblige the princess; go and\nfetch your daughter, or send for her about midnight, and the gate\nshall be open to you.'\n\nAs soon as night came, the nurse went to look for her son Marzavan,\nand having found him, she dressed him so artificially in women's\nclothes that nobody could know he was a man. She carried him along\nwith her, and the officer 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, and he\nhaving a great desire to kiss your hand, I hope your highness will\nadmit him to that honour.'\n\n'What! my brother Marzavan,' said the princess, with great joy:\n'come hither,' cried she, 'and take off that veil; for it is not\nunreasonable, surely, that a brother and a sister should see each\nother without covering their faces.'\n\nMarzavan saluted her with profound respect, when she, without\ngiving him time to speak, cried out, 'I am rejoiced to see you\nreturned in good health, after so many years' absence without\nsending the least account all the while of your welfare, even to\nyour good mother.'\n\n'Madam,' replied Marzavan, 'I am infinitely obliged to your\nhighness for your goodness in rejoicing at my health: I hoped to\nhave heard a better account of yours than what to my great\naffliction I am now witness of. Nevertheless, I cannot but rejoice\nthat I am come seasonably enough to bring your highness that remedy\nof which you stand so much in need; and though I should reap no\nother fruit of my studies and long voyage, I should think myself\nfully 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\nto the account he had had from his mother of the princess's\nillness. The princess, seeing him make all these preparations,\ncried out, 'What! brother, are you then one of those that believe\nme mad? Undeceive yourself and hear me.'\n\nThe princess then began to relate to Marzavan all the particulars\nof her story, without omitting the least circumstance, even to the\nring which was exchanged for hers, and which she showed him.\n\nAfter the princess had done speaking, Marzavan, filled with wonder\nand astonishment, continued for some time with his eyes fixed on\nthe ground, without speaking a word; but at length he lifted up his\nhead and said, 'If it be as your highness says, which I do not in\nthe least doubt, I do not despair of procuring 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 after I\nhave travelled over kingdoms which I have not yet visited; and when\nyou hear of my return, be assured that the object of your wishes is\nnot far off.' So saying, Marzavan took leave of the princess, and\nset out next morning on his intended journey.\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's name), and her history.\n\nAbout four months afterwards, Marzavan arrived at Torf, a seaport\ntown, great and populous, where he no more heard of the Princess\nBadoura, but where all the talk was of Prince Camaralzaman, who was\nill, and whose history very much resembled hers. Marzavan was\nextremely delighted to hear this, and informed himself of the place\nwhere the prince was to be found. There were two ways to it; one by\nland and sea, 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 the capital; but, just before it\nentered the port, the ship struck against a rock through the\nunskilfulness of the pilot, and foundered. It went down in sight of\nPrince Camaralzaman's castle, where were at that time the king and\nhis grand vizier.\n\nMarzavan could swim very well, and immediately on the ship's\nsinking cast himself into the sea, and got safe to the shore under\nthe castle, where he was soon relieved by the grand vizier's order.\nAfter he had changed his clothes and been well treated, and had\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\nfitting answers to what was asked of him, conceived a great esteem\nfor him. He also gradually perceived that he possessed a great deal\nof knowledge, and therefore said to him, 'From what I can\nunderstand, I perceive you are no common man; you have travelled a\ngreat way: would to God you had learned any secret for curing a\ncertain sick person, who has greatly afflicted this court for a\nlong while!'\n\nMarzavan replied that if he knew what malady it was, he might\nperhaps find a remedy for it.\n\nThen the grand vizier related to him the whole story of Prince\nCamaralzaman from its origin, and concealed nothing; his birth, his\neducation, the inclination the king his father had to see him\nmarried early, his resistance and extraordinary aversion to\nmarriage, his disobeying his father in full council, his\nimprisonment, his pretended extravagancies in prison, which were\nafterwards changed into a violent madness for a certain unknown\nlady, who, he pretended, had exchanged a ring with him; though, for\nhis part, he verily believed there was no such person 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\nno reason to doubt that Prince Camaralzaman was the man, and the\nPrincess of China the lady; therefore, without explaining himself\nfurther to the vizier, he desired to see him, that he might be\nbetter able to judge of his illness and its cure. 'Follow me,' said\nthe grand vizier, 'and you will find the king with him, who has\nalready desired that I should introduce you.'\n\nThe first thing that struck Marzavan on entering the prince's\nchamber was to find him upon his bed languishing, and with his eyes\nshut. Although he saw him in that condition, and although the king\nhis father was sitting by him, he could not help crying out, 'Was\nthere ever a greater resemblance!' He meant to the Princess of\nChina; for it seems the princess and prince were much alike.\n\nThe words of Marzavan excited the prince's curiosity so far that he\nopened his eyes and looked at him. Marzavan, who had a ready wit,\nlaid hold of that opportunity, and made his compliment in verse\nextempore: but in such a disguised manner, that neither the king\nnor grand vizier understood anything 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 that he knew her, and\ncould give him tidings of her. This made him so joyful, that the\neffects of it showed themselves in his eyes and looks.\n\nAfter Marzavan had finished his compliment in verse which surprised\nPrince Camaralzaman so agreeably, his highness took the liberty to\nmake a sign to the king his father, to go from the place where he\nwas, and let Marzavan sit by him.\n\nThe king, overjoyed at this alteration, which gave him hopes of his\nson's speedy recovery, quitted his place, and taking Marzavan by\nthe hand, led him to it. Then his majesty demanded of him who he\nwas, and whence he came. And upon Marzavan's answering that he was\na subject of China and came from that kingdom, the king cried out,\n'Heaven grant that you may be able to cure my son of this profound\nmelancholy, and I shall be eternally obliged to you; all the world\nshall see how handsomely I will reward you.' Having said thus, he\nleft the prince to converse at full liberty with the stranger,\nwhilst he went and rejoiced with the grand vizier.\n\nMarzavan leaning down to the prince, spoke low in his ear, thus:\n'Prince,' said he, 'it is time you should cease to grieve. The lady\nfor whom you suffer is the Princess Badoura, daughter of Gaiour,\nKing of China. This I can assure your highness from what she has\ntold me of her adventure, and what I have learned of yours. She has\nsuffered no less on your account than you have on hers.' Here he\nbegan to relate all that he knew of the princess's story, from the\nnight of their 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,\n'that can cure her effectually, and may present yourself without\nfear. However, before you undertake so great a voyage, I would have\nyou perfectly 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 such\ngreat relief that he felt he had strength to rise, and begged leave\nof his father to dress himself, with such an air as gave the old\nking incredible pleasure.\n\nThe king 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's 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 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 we do not\nset out on our journey immediately I shall soon relapse into my\nformer condition. One thing still troubles me,' continued he, 'and\nthat 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 scarcely ever leaves\nme.'\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\nto each 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\nexert my utmost skill. This then is the means I have contrived to\nobtain your liberty. You have not stirred abroad for some time,\ntherefore let the king your father understand you have a mind to\ntake the air, and ask his leave to go out on a hunting party for\ntwo or three days with me. No doubt he will grant your request;\nwhen he has done so, order two good horses to be got ready, one to\nmount, the other to change, and leave the rest to me.'\n\nNext day Prince Camaralzarnan took his opportunity. He told the\nking he was desirous to take the air, and, if he pleased, would go\nand hunt for two or three days with Marzavan. The king gave his\nconsent, but bade him be sure not to stay out above one night,\nsince too much exercise at first might impair his health, and a too\nlong absence create his majesty uneasiness. He then ordered him to\nchoose the best horses in his stable, and himself took particular\ncare that nothing should be wanting. When all was ready, his\nmajesty embraced the prince, and having recommended the care of him\nto Marzavan, he let him go. Prince Camaralzaman and Marzavan were\nsoon mounted, when, to amuse the two grooms that led the fresh\nhorses, they made as if they would hunt, and so got as far off the\ncity and out of the road as was possible. When night began to\napproach, they alighted at a caravansera or inn, where they supped,\nand slept till about midnight; then Marzavan awakened the prince\nwithout awakening the grooms, and desired his highness to let him\nhave his suit, and to take another for himself, which was brought\nin his baggage. Thus equipped, they mounted the fresh horses, and\nafter Marzavan had taken one of the groom's horses by the bridle,\nthey set out as hard as their horses could go.\n\nAt daybreak they were in a forest, where, coming to the meeting of\nfour roads, Marzavan desired the prince to wait for him a little,\nand went into the forest. He then killed the groom's horse, and\nafter having torn the prince's suit, which he had put off, he\nbesmeared it with blood and threw it into the highway.\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 had departed without the\ngrooms, than he would suspect something, and immediately send people\nin quest of them. 'They that come to this place,' said he, 'and find\nthese blood-stained clothes, will conclude you are devoured by wild\nbeasts, and that I have escaped to avoid the king's anger. The king,\npersuading himself that you are dead will stop further pursuit, and\nwe may have leisure to continue our journey without fear of being\nfollowed. I must confess,' continued Marzavan, 'that this is a\nviolent way of proceeding, to alarm an old father with the death of\nhis son, whom he loves so passionately; but his joy will be the\ngreater when he hears you are alive and happy.'\n\n'Brave Marzavan,' replied the prince,' I cannot but approve such an\ningenious stratagem, or sufficiently admire your conduct: I am\nunder fresh obligations to you for it.'\n\nThe prince and Marzavan, well provided with cash for their\nexpenses, continued their journey both by land and sea, and found\nno other obstacle but the length of time which it necessarily took\nup. They, however, arrived at length at the capital of China, where\nMarzavan, instead of going to his lodgings, carried the prince to a\npublic inn. They tarried there incognito for three days to rest\nthemselves after the fatigue of the voyage; during which time\nMarzavan caused an astrologer's dress to be made for the prince.\nThe three days being expired, the prince put on his astrologer's\nhabit; and Marzavan left him to go and acquaint his mother, the\nPrincess Badoura's nurse, of his arrival, to the end that she might\ninform the Princess.\n\nPrince Camaralzaman, instructed by Marzavan as to what he was to\ndo, and provided with all he wanted as an astrologer, came next\nmorning to the gate of the king's palace, before the guards and\nporters, and cried aloud, 'I am an astrologer, and am come to\neffect a cure on the estimable Princess Badoura, daughter of the\nmost high and mighty monarch Gaiour, King of China, on the\nconditions proposed by his majesty, to marry her if I succeed, or\nelse to lose my life for my fruitless and presumptuous attempt.'\n\nBesides the guards and porters at the gate, this drew together a\ngreat number of people about Prince Camaralzaman. No physician,\nastrologer, nor magician had appeared for a long time, deterred by\nthe many tragic examples of ill success that appeared before their\neyes; it was therefore thought that there were no more men of these\nprofessions in the world, or that there were no more so mad as\nthose that had gone before them.\n\nThe prince's good mien, noble air, and blooming youth made\neverybody that saw him pity him. 'What mean you, sir,' said some\nthat were nearest to him, 'thus to expose a life of such promising\nexpectation to certain death? Cannot the heads you see on all the\ngates of this city deter you from such an undertaking? Consider\nwhat you do: abandon this rash attempt, and be gone.'\n\nThe prince continued firm, notwithstanding all these remonstrances;\nand as he saw nobody come to introduce him, he repeated the same\ncry with a boldness that made everybody tremble. Then they all\ncried, 'Let him alone, he is resolved to die; God have mercy upon\nhis youth and his soul!' He then proceeded to cry out a third time\nin the same manner, when the grand vizier came in person, and\nintroduced him to the King of China.\n\nAs soon as the prince came into the king's 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, felt real compassion for Prince\nCamaralzaman on account of the danger he was about to undergo. But\nas he thought him more deserving than ordinary, he showed him more\nhonour, and made him come and sit by him. 'Young man,' said he, 'I\ncan hardly believe that 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\ndone to 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\n'Sir,' replied the prince, 'I am under infinite obligations to your\nmajesty for the honour you design me, and the great goodness you\nshow to a stranger; but I desire your majesty to believe that I\nwould not have come from so remote a country as I have done, the\nname of which perhaps may be unknown in your dominions, if I had\nnot been certain of the cure I propose. What would not the world\nsay of my fickleness, if, after such great fatigues and dangers as\nI have undergone on this account, I should abandon the enterprise?\nEven your majesty would soon lose that esteem you have conceived\nfor me. If I must die, sir, I shall die with the satisfaction of\nnot having lost your esteem after I have merited it. I beseech your\nmajesty therefore to keep me no longer impatient to display the\ncertainty of my art.'\n\nThen the king commanded the officer 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\nat liberty to renounce his design; yet the prince paid no heed,\nbut, with astonishing resolution and eagerness, followed the\nofficer.\n\nWhen they came to a long gallery, at the end of which was the\nprincess's apartment, the prince, who saw himself so near the\nobject of the wishes which had occasioned him so many tears, pushed\non, and got before the officer.\n\nThe officer, redoubling his pace, with much ado got up with him.\n'Whither away so fast?' cried he, taking him by the arm; 'you\ncannot get in without me: and it would seem that you have a great\ndesire for death thus to run to it headlong. Not one of all those\nmany astrologers and magicians I have introduced before made such\nhaste as yourself to a place whither I fear you will come but too\nsoon.'\n\n'Friend,' replied the Prince, looking earnestly at the officer, 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, that they would die if they did not succeed, but\nthey had no certainty of their success. On this account they had\nreason to tremble on approaching the place whither I go, and where\nI am sure to find my happiness.' He had just spoken these words as\nhe was at the door. The officer opened it, and introduced him into\na great hall, whence was an entrance into the princess's chamber,\ndivided from it only by a piece of tapestry.\n\nPrince Camaralzaman stopt before he entered, speaking softly to the\nofficer for fear of being heard in the princess's chamber. 'To\nconvince you,' said he, 'that there is neither presumption, nor\nwhim, nor youthful conceit in my undertaking, I leave it to your\nown desire whether I should cure the princess in your presence, or\nwhere we are, without going any further?'\n\nThe officer was amazed to hear the prince talk to him with such\nconfidence: he left off insulting him, and said seriously, 'It is\nno matter whether you do it here or there, provided the business is\ndone: 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,\nyet, out of respect to you, I will deprive myself of that pleasure\nfor a little while.' He was furnished with everything suitable for\nan astrologer to carry about him; and taking pen, ink, and paper\nout of his pocket, he wrote a letter to the princess.\n\nWhen the prince had finished his letter, he folded it up, and\nenclosed in it the princess's ring, without letting the officer 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\nher as soon as she reads it, and sees what is inclosed in it, I\ngive you leave to tell everybody that I am the most ignorant and\nimpudent astrologer that ever was, is, or shall be.'\n\nThe officer, entering the Princess of China's chamber, gave her the\npacket he received from Prince Camaralzaman. 'Madam,' said he, 'the\nboldest astrologer that ever lived, if I am not mistaken, has\narrived here, and pretends that on reading this letter and seeing\nwhat is in it you will be cured; I wish he may prove neither a liar\nnor an impostor.'\n\nThe Princess Badoura took the letter, 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, ran to the door and opened it. She knew the prince as\nsoon as she saw him, and he knew her; they at once embraced each\nother tenderly, without being able to speak for excess of joy: they\nlooked on one another a long time, wondering how they met again\nafter their first interview. The princess's nurse, who ran to the\ndoor with her, made them come into her chamber, where the Princess\nBadoura gave the prince her ring, saying, 'Take it; I cannot keep\nit without restoring yours, which I will never part with; neither\ncan it be in better hands.'\n\nThe officer immediately went 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\nwith the last. He made use neither of schemes nor spells or\nperfumes, or anything 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 forthwith to the princess's chamber embraced\nher: he afterwards embraced the prince, and, taking his hand,\njoined it to the princess's.\n\n'Happy stranger,' said the king, 'whoever you are, I will keep my\nword, and give you my daughter to marry; though, from what I see in\nyou, it is impossible for me to believe that you are really what\nyou appear to be, and would have me believe you.'\n\nPrince Camaralzaman thanked the king in the most humble tones, that\nhe 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\nand 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.\n\nWhen the prince had done speaking, the king said to him, 'This\nhistory is so extraordinary that it deserves to be known to\nposterity; I will take care it shall be; and the original being\ndeposited in my royal archives, I will spread copies of it abroad,\nthat my own kingdoms 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 immediately gave him an honourable post in his\ncourt, and a promise of further advancement; and held continual\nfeastings for several months, to show his joy.\n\n\n\n\n\n                     THE LOSS OF THE TALISMAN.\n\n\n\nSoon after his marriage Prince Camaralzaman dreamt one night that\nhe saw his father Schahzaman on his death-bed, and heard him speak\nthus to his attendants: 'My son, my son, whom I so tenderly loved,\nhas abandoned me.' He awoke with a great sigh, which aroused the\nprincess, who asked him the cause of it. Next morning the princess\nwent to her own father, and finding him alone kissed his hand and\nthus addressed herself to him: 'Sir, I have a favour to beg of your\nmajesty; it is that you will give me leave to go with the prince my\nhusband to see King Schahzaman, my father-in-law.'\n\n'Daughter,' replied the king, 'though I shall be very sorry to part\nwith you for so long a time, your resolution is worthy of you: go,\nchild, I give you leave, but on condition that you stay no longer\nthan a year in King Schahzaman's court.'\n\nThe princess communicated the King of China's consent to Prince\nCamaralzaman, who was transported with joy to hear it.\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' 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, he left them to proceed on their journey, and, to\ndivert his thoughts, hunted all the way home.\n\nPrince Camaralzaman and the Princess Badoura travelled for about a\nmonth, and at last came to a meadow of great extent, planted with\ntall trees, forming an agreeable shade. The day being unusually\nhot, Camaralzaman thought it best to encamp there. They alighted in\none of the finest spots, and the prince ordered his servants to\npitch their tents, and went himself to give directions. The\nprincess, weary with the fatigue of the journey, bade her women\nuntie her girdle, which they laid down by her, and when she fell\nasleep, her attendants 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's girdle lying by her, he took it up, and\nlooked at the diamonds and rubies one by one. In doing this, he saw\na little purse hanging to it, sewed neatly on to the stuff, and\ntied fast with a ribbon; he felt it, and found there was something\nsolid inside it. Desirous to know what it was, he opened the purse,\nand took out a cornelian, engraven with unknown figures and\ncharacters. 'This cornelian,' said the prince to himself, 'must be\nsomething very valuable, or my princess would not carry it with so\nmuch care.' It was Badoura's talisman, which the Queen of China had\ngiven her daughter as a charm, to 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\nhim.\n\nImagine the concern and grief of Prince Camaralzaman when he saw\nthe bird fly away with the talisman. He was more troubled at it\nthan words can express, and cursed his unseasonable curiosity, by\nwhich his dear princess had lost a treasure that was so precious\nand so much 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, in hopes she\nwould drop it; but, as he approached, the bird took wing, and\nsettled again on the ground further off. Camaralzaman followed, and\nthe bird, having swallowed the talisman, took a further flight: the\nprince still followed; the further she flew, the more eager he grew\nin pursuing her. Thus the bird drew him along from hill to valley,\nand valley to hill all day, every step leading him further away\nfrom the field where he had left his camp and the Princess Badoura;\nand instead of perching at night on a bush where he might probably\nhave taken her, she roosted on a high tree, safe from pursuit. The\nprince, vexed to the heart for taking so much pains to no purpose,\nthought of returning to the camp; 'but,' said he to himself, 'which\nway shall I return? Shall I go down the hills and valleys which I\npassed over? Shall I wander in darkness? and will my strength bear\nme out? How dare I appear before my princess without her talisman?'\nOverwhelmed with such thoughts, and tired with the pursuit, he lay\ndown under a tree, where he passed the night.\n\nHe awoke the next morning before the bird had left the tree, and,\nas soon as he saw her on the wing, followed her again that whole\nday, with no better success, eating nothing but herbs and fruits\nall the way. He did the same for ten days together, pursuing the\nbird, and keeping his eye upon her from morning to night, always\nlying under the tree where she roosted. On the eleventh day the\nbird continued flying, and came near a great city. When the bird\ncame to the walls, she flew over them and the prince saw no more of\nher; so he despaired of ever recovering the Princess Badoura's\ntalisman.\n\nCamaralzaman, whose grief was beyond expression, went into the\ncity, which was built by the seaside, and had a fine port; he\nwalked up and down the streets without knowing where he was, or\nwhere to stop. At last he came to the port, in as great uncertainty\nas ever what he should do. Walking along the river-side, he\nperceived the gate of a garden open, and an old gardener at work.\nThe good man looked up and saw that he was a stranger and a\nMussulman, so he asked him to come in, and to shut the door after\nhim.\n\nCamaralzaman entered, and, as the gardener bade him shut the door,\ndemanded of the gardener why he was so cautious.\n\n'Because,' replied the old man, 'I see you are a stranger newly\narrived, and a Mussulman, and this city is inhabited for the most\npart by idolaters, who have a mortal aversion to us Mussulmans, and\ntreat those few of us that are here with great barbarity. I suppose\nyou did not know this, and it is a miracle that you have escaped as\nyou have thus far, these idolaters being very apt to fall upon the\nMussulmans that are strangers, or to draw them into a snare, unless\nthose strangers know how to beware of them.'\n\nCamaralzaman thanked the honest gardener for his advice, and the\nsafety he offered him in his house: he would have said more, but\nthe good man interrupted him, saying, 'You are weary, and must want\nto refresh yourself. Come in and rest.' He conducted him into his\nlittle hut, and after the prince had eaten heartily of what he set\nbefore him, he requested him to relate how he came there.\n\nCamaralzaman complied with his request, and when he had ended his\nstory, he asked him which was the nearest way to the king his\nfather's territories; 'for it is in vain,' said he, 'for me to\nthink of finding my princess where I left her, after wandering\neleven days from the spot. Ah!' continued he, 'how do I know she is\nalive?' and so saying, he burst into tears.\n\nThe gardener replied that there was no possibility of his going\nthither by land, the roads were so difficult and the journey so\nlong; besides, he must necessarily pass through the countries of so\nmany barbarous nations that he would never reach his father's. It\nwas a year's journey from the city where he was to any country\ninhabited only by Mussulmans; the quickest passage for him would be\nto go to the Isle of Ebony, whence he might easily transport\nhimself to the Isles of the Children of Khaledan: a ship sailed\nfrom the port every year to Ebony, and he might take that\nopportunity of returning to those islands. 'The ship departed,'\nsaid the gardener, 'but a few days ago: if you had come a little\nsooner you might have taken your passage in it. If you will wait\nthe year round until it makes the voyage again, and will stay with\nme in my house, such as it is, you will be as welcome to it as to\nyour own.'\n\nPrince Camaralzaman was glad he had met with such a place of\nrefuge, in a place where he had no acquaintances. He accepted the\noffer, and lived with the gardener till the time came that the ship\nwas to sail to the Isle of Ebony. 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.\n\nWe must leave him in this place, to return to the princess, whom we\nleft asleep in her tent.\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\nopen, and the talisman gone. She did not doubt but that\nCamaralzaman had taken it to see what it was, and that he would\nbring it back with him. She waited for him impatiently till night,\nand could not imagine what made him stay away from her so long.\n\nWhen it was quite dark, and she could hear no news of him, she fell\ninto violent grief; she cursed the talisman, and the man that made\nit. She could not imagine how her talisman should have caused the\nprince's separation from her: she did not however lose her\njudgment, and came to a courageous decision as to what she should\ndo.\n\nShe only and her women knew of the prince's being gone; for his men\nwere asleep in their tents. The princess, fearing they would betray\nher if they had any knowledge of it, moderated her grief, and\nforbade her women to say or do anything that might create the least\nsuspicion. She then laid aside her robe, and put on one of Prince\nCamaralzaman's, being so like him that next day, when she came out,\nhis 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 for several months by land and sea; the princess\ncontinuing, the journey under the name of Camaralzaman. They took\nthe Isle of Ebony on their way to the Isles of the Children of\nKhaledan. They went to the capital of the Isle of Ebony, where a\nking reigned whose name was Armanos. The persons who first landed\ngave out that the ship carried Prince Camaralzaman, who was\nreturning from a long voyage and was driven in there by a storm,\nand the news of his arrival was presently carried to the court.\n\nKing Armanos, accompanied by most of his courtiers, went\nimmediately to meet the prince, and met the princess just as she\nwas landing, and going to the lodging that had been taken for her.\nHe received her as the son of a king who was his friend, and\nconducted her to the palace, where an apartment was prepared for\nher and all her attendants, though she would fain have excused\nherself, and have lodged in a private house. He showed her all\npossible honour, and entertained her for three days with\nextraordinary magnificence. At the end of this time, King Armanos,\nunderstanding that the princess, whom he still took for Prince\nCamaralzaman, talked of going on board again to proceed on her\nvoyage, charmed with the air and qualities of such an accomplished\nprince as he took her to be, seized an opportunity when she was\nalone, and spoke to her in this manner: 'You see, prince, that I am\nold, and cannot hope to live long; and, to my great mortification,\nI have not a son to whom I may leave my crown. Heaven has only\nblest me with one daughter, the Princess Haiatalnefous whose beauty\ncannot be better matched than with a prince of your rank and\naccomplishments. Instead of going home, stay and marry her from my\nhand, with my crown, which I resign in your favour. It is time for\nme to rest, and nothing could be a greater pleasure to me in my\nretirement than to see my people ruled by so worthy a successor to\nmy throne.'\n\nThe King of the Isle of Ebony's generous offer to bestow his only\ndaughter in marriage, and with her his kingdom, on the Princess\nBadoura, put her into unexpected perplexity. She thought it would\nnot become a princess of her rank to undeceive the king, and to own\nthat she was not Prince Camaralzaman, but his wife, when she had\nassured him that she was he himself, whose part she had hitherto\nacted so well. She was also afraid refuse the honour he offered\nher, lest, as he was much bent upon the marriage, his kindness\nmight turn to aversion and hatred, and he might attempt something\neven against her life. Besides, she was not sure whether she might\nnot find Prince Camaralzaman in the court of King Schahzaman his\nfather.\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\n'But, sir,' continued she, 'I cannot accept this great alliance on\nany other condition than that your majesty will assist me with your\ncounsel, and that I do nothing without first having your\napprobation.'\n\nThe marriage treaty being thus concluded and agreed on, the\nceremony was put off till next day. In the mean time Princess\nBadoura gave notice to her officers, who still took her for Prince\nCamaralzaman, of what she was going to do so that they might not be\nsurprised at it, assuring them that the Princess Badoura consented.\nShe talked also to her women, and charged them to continue to keep\nthe secret.\n\nThe King of the Isle of Ebony, rejoicing that he had got a son-in-\nlaw so much to his satisfaction, next morning summoned his council,\nand acquainted them with his design of marrying his daughter to\nPrince Camaralzaman, whom he introduced to them; and having made\nhim sit down by his side, told them he resigned the crown to the\nprince, and required them to acknowledge him for king, and swear\nfealty to him. Having said this, he descended from his throne, and\nthe Princess Badoura, by his order, ascended it. As soon as the\ncouncil broke up, the new king was proclaimed through the city,\nrejoicings were appointed for several days, and couriers despatched\nall over the kingdom to see the same ceremonies observed with the\nsame demonstrations of joy.\n\nAs soon as they were alone, the Princess Badoura told the Princess\nHaiatalnefous the secret, and begged her to keep it, which she\npromised faithfully to do.\n\n'Princess,' said Haiatalnefous, 'your fortune is indeed strange,\nthat a marriage, so happy as yours was, should be shortened by so\nunaccountable an accident. Pray heaven you may meet with your\nhusband again soon, and be sure that I will religiously keep the\nsecret committed to me. It will be to me the greatest pleasure in\nthe world to be the only person in the great kingdom of the Isle of\nEbony who knows what and who you are, while you go on governing the\npeople as happily as you have begun. I only ask of you at present\nto be your friend.' Then the two princesses tenderly embraced each\nother, and after a thousand expressions of mutual friendship lay\ndown to rest.\n\nWhile these things were taking place in the court of the Isle of\nEbony, Prince Camaralzaman stayed in the city of idolaters with the\ngardener, who had offered him his house till the ship sailed.\n\nOne morning when the prince was up early, and, as he used to do,\nwas preparing to work in the garden, the gardener prevented him,\nsaying, 'This day is a great festival among the idolaters, and\nbecause they abstain from all work themselves, so as to spend the\ntime in their assemblies and public rejoicings, they will not let\nthe Mussulmans work. Their shows are worth seeing. You will have\nnothing to do to-day: I leave you here. As the time approaches in\nwhich the ship is accustomed to sail for the Isle of Ebony, I will\ngo and see some of my friends, and secure you a passage in it.' The\ngardener 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. In a very little\nwhile one of them fell down dead at the foot of a tree; the bird\nthat 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\nthe ground one at the feet and the other at the head of the dead\nbird: they looked at it some time, shaking their heads in token of\ngrief; after which they dug a grave with their talons, and buried\nit.\n\nWhen they had filled up the grave with the earth they flew away,\nand returned in a few minutes, bringing with them the bird that had\ncommitted the murder, the one holding one of its wings in its beak,\nand the other one of its legs; the criminal all the while crying\nout in a doleful manner, and struggling to escape. They carried it\nto the grave of the bird which it had lately sacrificed to its\nrage, and there sacrificed it in just revenge for the murder it had\ncommitted. They killed the murderer with their beaks. They then\nopened it, tore out the entrails, left the body on the spot\nunburied, and flew away.\n\nCamaralzaman remained in great astonishment all the time that he\nstood beholding this sight. He drew near the tree, and casting his\neyes on the scattered entrails of the bird that was last killed, he\nspied something red hanging out of its body. He took it up, and\nfound it was his beloved Princess Badoura's talisman, which had\ncost him so much pain and sorrow and so many sighs since the bird\nsnatched it out of his hand. 'Ah, cruel monster!' said he to\nhimself, still looking at the bird, 'thou tookest delight in doing\nmischief, so I have the less reason to complain of that which thou\ndidst to me: but the greater it was, the more do I wish well to\nthose that revenged my quarrel on thee, in punishing thee for the\nmurder of one of their own kind.'\n\nIt is impossible to express Prince Camaralzaman's joy: 'Dear\nprincess,' continued he to himself, 'this happy minute, which\nrestores to me a treasure so precious to thee, is without doubt a\npresage of our meeting again, perhaps even sooner than I think.'\n\nSo saying, he kissed the talisman, wrapped it up in a ribbon, 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\nthe next night he slept soundly: he rose somewhat later the next\nmorning than he was accustomed to do, put on his working clothes,\nand went to the gardener for orders. The good man bade him root up\nan old tree which bore no fruit.\n\nCamaralzaman took an axe, and began his work. In cutting off a\nbranch of the root, he found that his axe struck against something\nthat resisted the blow and made a great noise. He removed the\nearth, and discovered a broad plate of brass, under which was a\nstaircase of ten steps. He went down, and at the bottom saw a\ncavity about six yards square, with fifty brass urns placed in\norder around it, each with a cover over it. He opened them all, one\nafter another, and there was not one of them which was not full of\ngold-dust. He came out of the cave, rejoicing that he had found\nsuch a vast treasure: he put the brass plate over the staircase,\nand rooted up the tree against the gardener's return.\n\nThe gardener had learned the day before that the ship which was\nbound for the Isle of Ebony would sail in a few days, but the exact\ntime was not yet fixed. His friend promised to let him know the\nday, if he called upon him on the morrow; and while Camaralzaman\nwas rooting up the tree, he went to get his answer. He returned\nwith a joyful countenance, by which the prince guessed that he\nbrought him good news. 'Son,' said the old man (so he always called\nhim, on account of the difference of age between him and the\nprince), 'be joyful, and prepare to embark in three days, for the\nship will then certainly set sail: I have arranged with the captain\nfor your passage.'\n\n'In my present situation,' replied Camaralzaman, 'you could not\nbring me more agreeable news; and in return, I have also tidings\nthat will be as welcome to you; come along with me, and you shall\nsee what good 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, and thanked Providence for\nrewarding his virtue, and the labour he had done for so many years.\n\n'What do you mean?' replied the gardener: 'do you imagine I will\ntake these riches as mine? They are yours: I have no right to them.\nFor fourscore years, since my father's death, I have done nothing\nbut dig in this garden, and could not discover this treasure, which\nis a sign that it was destined for you, since you have been\npermitted to find it. It suits a prince like you, rather than me: I\nhave one foot in the grave, and am in no want of anything.\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\nis not enough that you have got this treasure; we must now contrive\nhow to carry it so privately on board the ship that nobody may know\nanything of the matter, otherwise you will run the risk of losing\nit. There are no olives in the Isle of Ebony, and those that are\nexported hence are wanted 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, and\nfearing lest the talisman, which he wore on his arm, might be lost\nagain, he carefully put it into one of the pots, marking it with a\nparticular mark, to distinguish it from the rest. When they were\nall ready to be shipped, the prince retired with the gardener, and\ntalking together, he related to him the battle of the birds, and\nhow he had found the Princess Badoura's talisman again. The\ngardener was equally surprised and joyful to hear it for his sake.\n\nWhether the old man was quite worn out with age, or had exhausted\nhimself too much that day, he had a very bad night; he grew worse\nthe next day, and on the third day, when the prince was to embark,\nwas so ill that it was plain he was near his end. As soon as day\nbroke, the captain of the ship came in person with several seamen\nto the gardener's; they knocked at the garden-door, and\nCamaralzaman opened it to them. They asked him where the passenger\nwas that was to go with him. The prince answered, 'I am he; the\ngardener who arranged with you for my passage is ill, and cannot be\nspoken with: come in, and let your men carry those pots of olives\nand my baggage aboard. I will only take leave of the gardener, and\nfollow you.'\n\nThe seamen took up the pots and the baggage, and the captain bade\nthe prince make haste, for the wind being fair they were waiting\nfor nothing but him.\n\nWhen the captain and his men were gone, Camaralzaman went to the\ngardener, to take leave of him, and thank him for all his good\noffices: but he found him in the agonies of death, and had scarcely\ntime to bid him rehearse the articles of his faith, which all good\nMussulmans do before they die, when the gardener expired in his\npresence.\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 cemetery in\nthe city of the idolaters, where they were only tolerated), and as\nhe had 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 water-\nside, carrying with him the key of the garden, intending, if he had\ntime, to give it to the landlord; otherwise to deposit it in some\ntrusty person's hand before a witness, that he might leave it when\nhe was gone. When he came to the port, he was told the ship had\nsailed several hours before he came and was already out of sight.\nIt had waited three hours for him, and the wind standing fair, the\ncaptain dared not stay any 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: to think that he must wait\nanother twelvemonth for the opportunity he had lost. But the\ngreatest affliction of all was his having let go the Princess\nBadoura's talisman, which he now gave over for lost. The only\ncourse that was left for him to take was to return to the garden to\nrent it of the landlord, and to continue to cultivate it by\nhimself, deploring his misery and misfortunes. He hired a boy to\nhelp him to do some part of the drudgery; and that he might not\nlose the other half of the treasure, which came to him by the death\nof the gardener, who died without heirs, he put the gold-dust into\nfifty other pots, which he filled up with olives, to be ready\nagainst the time of the ship's 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 Ebony, and happily arrived at the capital.\n\nThe palace being by the sea-side, the new king, or rather the\nPrincess Badoura, espying the ship as she was entering the port,\nwith all her flags flying, asked what vessel it was; she was told\nthat it came annually from the city of the idolaters, and was\ngenerally 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\non board, and resolved to go down to the ship and meet him. Under\npresence of inquiring what merchandise was on board, and having the\nfirst sight of the goods, and choosing the most valuable, she\ncommanded a horse to be brought, which she mounted, and rode to the\nport, accompanied by several officers in waiting, and arrived at\nthe port just as the captain came ashore. She ordered him to be\nbrought before her, and asked whence he came, how long he had been\non his voyage, and what good or bad fortune he had met with: if he\nhad any stranger of quality on board, and particularly with what\nhis ship was laden.\n\nThe captain gave a satisfactory answer to all her demands; and as\nto passengers, assured her that there were none but merchants in\nhis ship, who were used to come every year and bring rich stuffs\nfrom several parts of the world to trade with, the finest linens\npainted and plain, diamonds, musk, ambergris, camphor, civet,\nspices, drugs, olives, and many other articles.\n\nThe Princess Badoura loved olives extremely: when she heard the\ncaptain speak of them, she said, 'Land them, 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\nthem to any one else.'\n\nThe captain, taking her for the King of the Isle of Ebony, replied,\n'Sire, there are fifty great pots of olives, but they belong to a\nmerchant whom I was forced to leave behind. I gave him notice\nmyself that I was waiting for him, and waited a long time; but as\nhe did not come, and the wind was good, I was afraid of losing it,\nand so set sail.'\n\nThe princess answered, 'No matter; bring them ashore; we will make\na bargain for them.'\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 Ebony. 'Sir,' said the captain,\n'the merchant is very poor, and your majesty will do him a singular\nfavour if you give him a thousand pieces of silver.'\n\n'To satisfy him,' replied the princess, 'and because you tell me he\nis poor, I will order you a thousand pieces of gold for him, which\ndo you take care to give him.' The money was accordingly, paid, and\nthe pots carried to the palace in her presence.\n\nNight was drawing on when the princess withdrew into the inner\npalace, and went to the Princess Haiatalnefous' apartment, ordering\nthe fifty pots of olives to be brought thither. She opened one, to\nlet the Princess Haiatalnefous taste them, and poured them into a\ndish. Great was her astonishment when she found the olives mingled\nwith gold-dust. 'What can this mean?' said she, 'it is wonderful\nbeyond comprehension.' Her curiosity increasing, she ordered\nHaiatalnefous' women to open and empty all the pots in her\npresence; and her wonder was still greater, when she saw that the\nolives in all of them were mixed with gold-dust; but when she saw\nher talisman drop out of that into which the prince had put it, she\nwas so surprised that she fainted away. The Princess Haiatalnefous\nand her women restored the Princess Badoura by throwing cold water\non her face. When she recovered her senses, she took the talisman\nand kissed it again and again; but not being willing that the\nPrincess Haiatalnefous's women, who were ignorant of her disguise,\nshould hear what she said, she dismissed them.\n\n'Princess,' said she to Haiatalnefous, as soon as they were gone,\n'you, who have heard my story, surely guessed that it was at the\nsight of the talisman that I fainted. This is the talisman, the\nfatal cause of my losing my dear husband Prince Camaralzaman; but\nas it was that which caused our separation, so I foresee it will be\nthe means of our meeting again soon.'\n\nThe next day, as soon as it was light, she sent for the captain of\nthe ship; and when he came she 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 had left him\nbehind you in the city of the idolaters: can you tell me what he is\ndoing there?'\n\n'Yes, sire,' replied the captain, 'I can speak on my own knowledge.\nI arranged 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.\nI went there 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\n'If what you say is true,' replied the Princess Badoura, 'you must\nset sail this very day for the city of idolaters, and fetch me that\ngardener's man, who is my debtor; else I will not only confiscate\nall your goods and those of your merchants, but your and their\nlives shall 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\nI command 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 told\nthem about it, and they hastened him away as fast as they could\nafter he had laid in a stock of provisions and fresh water for his\nvoyage. They were so diligent, that he set sail the same day. He\nhad a prosperous voyage to the city of the idolaters, where he\narrived in the night. When he was as near to the city as he thought\nconvenient, he would not cast anchor, but let the ship ride off the\nshore; and going into his boat, with six of his stoutest seamen, he\nlanded a little way off the port, whence he went directly to\nCamaralzaman's garden.\n\nThough it was about midnight when he arrived there, the prince was\nnot asleep. 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,\nhalf-dressed as he was; but he had no sooner opened it, than the\ncaptain and his seamen took hold of him, and carried him by force\non board the boat, and so to the ship, and as soon as he was safely\nlodged, they set sail immediately, and made the best of their way\nto the Isle of Ebony.\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 recognized, why they had taken him away by force?\nThe captain in his turn demanded of the prince whether he was not a\ndebtor of the King of Ebony?\n\n'I the King of Ebony's debtor!' replied Camaralzaman in amazement;\n'I do not know him, I never had anything to do with him in my life,\nand never set foot in his kingdom.'\n\nThe captain answered, 'You should know that better than I; you will\ntalk to him yourself in a little while: till then, stay here and\nhave patience.'\n\nThough it was night when he cast anchor in the port, the captain\nlanded immediately, and taking Prince Camaralzaman with him\nhastened to the palace, where he demanded to be introduced to the\nking.\n\nThe Princess Badoura had withdrawn into the inner palace; however,\nas soon as she had heard of the captain's return and Camaralzaman's\narrival, she came out to speak to him. As soon as she set her eyes\non the prince, for whom she had shed so many tears, she knew him in\nhis gardener's clothes. As for the prince, who trembled in the\npresence of a king, as he thought her, to whom he was to answer for\nan imaginary debt, it did not enter into his head that the person\nwhom he so earnestly desired to see stood before him. If the\nprincess had followed the dictates of her inclination, she would\nhave run to him and embraced him, but she put a constraint on\nherself, believing that it was for the interest of both that she\nshould act the part of a king a little longer before she made\nherself known. She contented herself for the present with putting\nhim into the hands of an officer, who was then in waiting, with a\ncharge to take care of him till the next day.\n\nWhen the Princess Badoura had provided for Prince Camaralzaman, she\nturned to the captain, whom she was now to reward for the important\nservice he had done her. She commanded another officer to go\nimmediately and take the seal off the warehouse where his and his\nmerchants' goods were, and gave him a rich diamond, worth much more\nthan the expense of both his voyages. She bade him besides keep the\nthousand pieces of gold she had given him for the pots of olives,\ntelling him she would make up the account with the merchant\nherself.\n\nThis done, she retired to the Princess of the Isle of Ebony's\napartment, to whom she communicated her joy, praying her to keep\nthe secret still. She told her how she intended to manage to reveal\nherself to Prince Camaralzaman, and to give him the kingdom.\n\nThe Princess of the Isle of Ebony was so far from betraying her,\nthat she rejoiced and entered fully into the plan.\n\nThe next morning the Princess of China ordered Prince Camaralzaman\nto be apparelled in the robes of an emir or governor of a province.\nShe commanded him to be introduced into the council, where his fine\nperson and majestic air drew all the eyes of the lords there\npresent upon him.\n\nThe Princess Badoura herself was charmed to see him again, as\nhandsome as she had often seen him, and her pleasure inspired her\nto speak the more warmly in his praise. When she addressed herself\nto the council, having ordered the prince to take his seat among\nthe emirs, she spoke to them thus: 'My lords, this emir whom I have\nadvanced to the same dignity with you is not unworthy the place\nassigned him. I have known enough of him in my travels to answer\nfor him, and I can assure you he will make his merit known to all\nof you.'\n\nCamaralzaman was extremely amazed to hear the King of the Isle of\nEbony, 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 that he had never seen him before in his\nlife. He was much more surprised when he heard him praise him so\nexcessively. Those praises, however, did not disconcert him, though\nhe received them with such modesty as showed that he did not grow\nvain. He prostrated himself before the throne of the king, and\nrising again, 'Sire,' said he, 'I want words to express my\ngratitude to your majesty for the honour you have done me: I shall\ndo all in my power to render myself worthy 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 everything suitable to the rank of an\nemir. Then the steward of his household brought him a strong box\nfull of gold for his expenses.\n\nThe less he understood 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 to her, and in a more distinguished post, made him high\ntreasurer, which office had lately become vacant. He behaved\nhimself in his new charge with so much integrity, yet obliging\neverybody, that he not only gained the friendship of the great but\nalso the affections of the people, by his uprightness and bounty.\n\nCamaralzaman would have been the happiest man in the world, if he\nhad had his princess with him. In the midst of his good fortune he\nnever ceased lamenting her, and grieved that he could hear no\ntidings of her, especially in a country where she must necessarily\nhave come on her way to his father's court after their separation.\nHe would have suspected something had the Princess Badoura still\ngone by the name of Camaralzaman, but on her accession to the\nthrone she changed it, and took that of Armanos, in honour of the\nold king her father-in-law. She was now known only by the name of\nthe young King Armanos. There were very few courtiers who knew that\nshe had ever been called Camaralzaman, which name she assumed when\nshe arrived at the court of the Isle of Ebony, nor had Camaralzaman\nso much acquaintance with any of them yet as to learn more of her\nhistory.\n\nThe princess fearing he might do so in time, and desiring that he\nshould owe the discovery to herself only, resolved to put an end to\nher own torment and his; for she had observed that as often as she\ndiscoursed with him about the affairs of his office, he fetched\nsuch deep sighs as could be addressed to nobody but her. She\nherself also lived under such constraint that she could endure it\nno longer.\n\nThe Princess Badoura had no sooner made this decision with the\nPrincess Haiatalnefous, than she took Prince Camaralzaman aside,\nsaying, 'I must talk with you about an affair, Camaralzaman, which\nrequires much consideration, and on which I want your advice. Come\nhither in the evening, and leave word at home that you will not\nreturn; 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 chamberlain, who was preparing to follow her,\nthat she had no occasion for his service, and that he should only\nkeep the door shut, she took him into a different apartment.\n\nWhen the prince and princess entered the chamber she shut the door,\nand, taking the talisman out of a little box, gave it to\nCamaralzaman, saying, 'It is not long since an astrologer presented\nme with this talisman; you being skilful in all things, may perhaps\ntell me its use.'\n\nCamaralzaman took the talisman, and drew near a lamp to look at it.\nAs soon as he recollected it, with an astonishment which gave the\nprincess great pleasure, 'Sire,' said he to the princess, 'your\nmajesty asked me what this talisman is good for. Alas! it is only\ngood to kill me with grief and despair, if I do not quickly find\nthe most charming and lovely princess in the world to whom it\nbelonged, whose loss it occasioned by a strange adventure, the very\nrecital of which will move your majesty to pity such an unfortunate\nhusband and lover, if you would have patience to hear it.'\n\n'You shall tell me that another time,' replied the princess; 'I am\nvery glad to tell you I know something of it already; stay here a\nlittle, and I will return to you in a moment.'\n\nAt these words she went into her dressing-room, put off her royal\nturban, and in a few minutes dressed herself like a woman; and\nhaving the girdle round her which she wore on the day of their\nseparation, she entered 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\nthe king, who has so agreeably surprised me!'\n\n'Do not expect to see the king any more,' replied the princess,\nembracing him in her turn, with tears in her eyes; 'you see him in\nme: sit down, and I will explain this 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 that she waited for him to no\npurpose; how she went through with it till she arrived at the Isle\nof Ebony, where she had been obliged to marry the Princess\nHaiatalnefous, and accept the crown which King Armanos offered her\nas a condition of the marriage: how the princess, whose merit she\nhighly extolled, had kept the secret, and how she found the\ntalisman in the pots of olives mingled with the gold dust, and how\nthe finding it was the cause of her sending for him to the city of\nthe idolaters.\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 chamberlain to King Armanos, her father-in-\nlaw to desire he would be so good as to come to her apartment.\n\nWhen the king entered the chamber, he was amazed to see there a\nlady who was unknown to him, and the high treasurer with her, who\nwas not permitted to come within the inner palace. He sat down and\nasked where the king was.\n\nThe princess answered, 'Yesterday I was king, sir, and to-day I am\nthe Princess of China, wife of the true Prince Camaralzaman, the\ntrue son of King Schahzaman. If your majesty will have the patience\nto hear both our stories, I hope you will not condemn me for putting\nan innocent deceit upon you.' The king bade her go on, and heard her\ndiscourse from the beginning to the end with astonishment. The\nprincess on finishing it said to him, 'Sir, in our religion men may\nhave several wives; 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 she has kept my secret so generously.'\n\nKing Armanos listened to the princess with astonishment, and when\nshe had done, turned to Prince Camaralzaman, saying, 'Son, 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 is willing, I have nothing more to do but to ask you if you\nare willing to marry my daughter and accept the crown, which the\nPrincess Badoura would deservedly wear as long as she lived, if she\ndid not quit it out of love to you.'\n\n'Sir,' replied Prince Camaralzaman, 'though I desire nothing so\nearnestly as to see the king my father, yet the obligation I am\nunder to your majesty and the Princess Haiatalnefous are so\nweighty, I can refuse her nothing.' Camaralzaman was proclaimed\nking, and married the same day with all possible demonstrations of\njoy.\n\nNot long afterwards they all resumed the long interrupted journey\nto the Isles of the Children of Khaledan, where they were fortunate\nenough to find the old King Schahzaman still alive and overjoyed to\nsee his son once more; and after several months' rejoicing, King\nCamaralzaman and the two queens returned to the Island of Ebony,\nwhere they lived in great happiness for the remainder of their\nlives.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n               THE STORY OF ZOBEIDE TOLD BY HERSELF\n\n\n\nThe following story is one of the strangest that ever was heard.\nTwo black dogs long dwelt with me in my house, and were very\naffectionately disposed towards me. These two black dogs and myself\nwere sisters, and I shall acquaint you by what strange accident\nthey came to be metamorphosed. After our father's death, the estate\nthat he left was equally divided among us. My two sisters and\nmyself stayed with our mother, who was still alive, and when she\ndied she left each of us a thousand sequins. As soon as we received\nour portions, the two elder (for I am the youngest), being married,\nfollowed their husbands and left me alone. Some time after, my\neldest sister's husband sold all that he had, and with that money\nand my sister's portion they both went into Africa, where her\nhusband, by riotous living, spent all; and finding himself reduced\nto poverty, he found a pretext for divorcing my sister, and sent\nher away.\n\nShe returned to this city, and, having suffered incredible\nhardships by the way, came to me in so lamentable a condition that\nit would have moved the hardest heart to compassion. I received her\nwith all the tenderness she could expect, and on my inquiring into\nthe cause of her sad condition, she told me with tears how\ninhumanly her husband had dealt with her. I was so much concerned\nat her misfortune that it drew tears from my eyes: I clothed her\nwith my own apparel, and spoke to her thus: 'Sister, you are the\nelder, and I esteem you as my mother: during your absence, God has\nblessed the portion that fell to my share, and the employment I\nfollow of feeding and bringing up silk-worms. Assure yourself that\nthere is nothing I have but is at your service, and as much at your\ndisposal as my own.'\n\nWe lived very comfortably together for some months; and one day as\nwe were discoursing together about our third sister, and wondering\nwe heard no news of her, she came home in as bad a condition as the\nelder; her husband had treated her after the same manner: and I\nreceived her likewise with the same affection as I had done the\nother.\n\nSome time after, my two sisters, on the ground that they would not\nbe an expense to me, told me they intended to marry again. I\nanswered them, that if their putting me to expense 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 suitable to our condition. 'But,' said I, 'I\nrather believe you have a mind to marry again. If you do, I am sure\nit will very much surprise me: after the experience you have had of\nthe small satisfaction there is in marriage, is it possible you\ndare venture a second time? You know how rare it is to meet with a\nhusband that is a really honest man. Believe what I say, and let us\nlive together as comfortably as we can.' All my persuasion was in\nvain; they were resolved to marry, and 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 much wiser 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 with 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\ntogether as 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 by 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;\nand when we got into the ocean we steered our course to the Indies,\nand on the twentieth day saw land. It was a very high mountain, at\nthe foot of which we saw a great town, and having a fresh wind we\nsoon reached the harbour, where we cast anchor.\n\nI had not patience to stay till my sisters were ready to go with\nme, but went ashore in the boat by myself; and, making directly for\nthe gate of the town, I saw there a great number of men on guard,\nsome sitting and others standing, with sticks in their hands; and\nthey had all such dreadful countenances that it frightened me; but\nperceiving 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 stone. I entered the town and passed through the several\nstreets, wherein men stood everywhere 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 chimneys, 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 doors 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, I made no doubt but that it was the palace of the\nprince who reigned over that country; and being very much\nastonished that I had not met with one living creature, I went\nthither in hopes to find some one. I entered the gate, and was\nstill more surprised when I saw none but the guards in the porches,\nall petrified, some standing, 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 enclosed with gates of massive\ngold: I supposed it to be the queen's apartment, and went into a\nlarge hall, where there stood several black chamberlains turned\ninto stone. I went from thence into a room richly hung and\nfurnished, where I perceived a lady. I knew it to be the queen by\nthe crown of gold that hung over her head, and a necklace of pearls\nabout her neck, each of them as big as a nut; I went up close to\nher 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 footcloth, the cushions and the sofas,\nwhich were all lined with Indian stuff or gold, with pictures of\nmen and beasts in silver admirably executed.\n\nI went out of the chamber where the petrified queen was, and passed\nthrough several other apartments richly furnished, and at last came\ninto a vast room, where was a throne of massive gold, raised\nseveral steps above the floor and enriched with large emeralds, and\na bed upon the throne of rich stuff embroidered with pearls. What\nsurprised me more than all the rest was a sparkling light which\ncame from above the bed. Being curious to know from whence it came,\nI mounted the steps, and lifting up my head, I saw a diamond, as\nbig as the egg of an ostrich, lying upon a low stool; it was so\npure that I could not find the least blemish in it, and it sparkled\nso brightly that I could not endure the lustre of it when I saw it\nby daylight.\n\nOn each side of the bed's head there stood a lighted torch, but for\nwhat use I could not comprehend; however, it made me imagine that\nthere was some living creature in this place, for I could not\nbelieve that these torches continued thus burning of themselves.\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 of my ship or my\nsisters; my whole design was to satisfy my curiosity. Meantime\nnight came on, which put me in mind that it was time to retire. I\nwas for returning by the 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's lodging there,\nand to depart the next morning betimes, to get aboard my ship. I\nlaid myself down upon the couch, not without some dread of being\nalone in a desolate place; and this fear hindered my sleep.\n\nAbout midnight I heard a voice like that of a man reading the\nKoran, after the same manner and in the same tone as we read in our\nmosques. Being extremely glad to hear it, I got up immediately,\nand, taking a torch in my hand to light me, I passed from one\nchamber to another on that side where the voice came from: I came\nto a 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 two candlesticks with\nlarge tapers of white wax burning.\n\nI saw a little carpet laid down, like those we have to kneel upon\nwhen we say our prayers, and a comely young man sat 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 wonder. I\nwondered how it came to pass that he should be the only living\ncreature in a town where all the people were turned into stones,\nand I did not doubt but that there was something in it very\nextraordinary.\n\nThe door being only half shut, I opened it and went in, and\nstanding upright before the niche, I said this prayer aloud:\n'Praise be to God, who has favoured us with a happy voyage, and may\nHe be graciously pleased to protect us in the same manner until we\narrive again in our own country. Hear me, O Lord, and grant my\nrequest.'\n\nThe young man 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\nme, why the inhabitants of this city are reduced to that state you\nsee them in, and why I alone am safe and sound in the midst of such\na terrible disaster.'\n\nI told him in few words from whence I came, what made me undertake\nthe voyage, and how I had safely arrived at the port after twenty\ndays' sailing; and when I had done I prayed him to fulfil 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\n'My dear lady,' said the young man, 'have patience for a moment.'\nAt these words he shut the Koran, put it into a rich case, and laid\nit in the niche. I took that opportunity of observing him, and\nperceived so much good-nature and beauty in him that I felt strange\nemotion. He made me sit down by him; and before he began his\ndiscourse I could not forbear saying to him, 'Sir, I can scarcely\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\n'Madam,' said the young man, 'you have given me to understand that\nyou have a knowledge of the true God by the prayer you have just\nnow addressed to Him. I will acquaint you with the most remarkable\neffect of His greatness and power. You must know that this city was\nthe metropolis of a mighty kingdom, over which the king, my father,\ndid reign. He, his whole court, the inhabitants of the city, and\nall his other subjects were magi, worshippers of fire, and of\nNardoun, the ancient king of the giants, who rebelled against God.\n\n'And though I had an idolatrous father and mother, I had the good\nfortune in my youth to have a governess who was a good Mussulman; I\nlearned the Koran by heart, and understood the explanation of it\nperfectly. \"Dear prince,\" would she oftentimes say, \"there is but\none true God; take heed that you do not acknowledge and adore any\nother.\" She taught me to read Arabic, and the book she gave me to\npractice upon was the Koran. As soon as I was capable of\nunderstanding it, she explained to me all the heads of this\nexcellent book, and infused piety into my mind, unknown to my\nfather or anybody else. She happened to die, but not before she had\ninstructed me in all that was necessary to convince me of the truth\nof the Mussulman religion. After her death I persisted with\nconstancy in this belief; and I abhor the false god Nardoun, and\nthe adoration of fire.\n\n'It is about three years and some months ago that a thundering\nvoice was heard, all of a sudden, so distinctly, through the whole\ncity that nobody could miss hearing it. The words were these:\n\"Inhabitants, abandon the worship of Nardoun, and of fire, and\nworship the only God that shows mercy.\"\n\n'This voice was heard for three years successively, but nobody was\nconverted: so on the last day of the year, at four o'clock in the\nmorning, all the inhabitants were changed in an instant into stone,\nevery one in the same condition and posture they happened to be\nthen in. The king, my father, had the same fate, for he was\nmetamorphosed into a black stone, as he is to be seen in this\npalace; and the queen, my mother, had the like destiny.\n\n'I am the only person that did not suffer under that heavy\njudgment, and ever since I have continued to serve God with more\nfervency than before. I am persuaded, dear lady, that He has sent\nyou hither for my comfort, for which I render Him infinite thanks;\nfor I must own that this solitary life is very unpleasant.'\n\n'Prince,' said I, 'there is no doubt that Providence hath brought\nme into your port to present you with an opportunity of withdrawing\nfrom this dismal place. The ship that I came in may in some measure\npersuade you that I am in some esteem at Bagdad, where I have also\nleft a considerable estate; and I dare engage to promise you\nsanctuary there, until the mighty Commander of the Faithful, who is\nvice-regent to our Prophet, whom you acknowledge, shows you the\nhonour that is due to your merit. This renowned prince lives at\nBagdad, and as soon as he is informed of your arrival in his\ncapital, you will find that it is not vain to implore his\nassistance. It is impossible you can stay any longer in a city\nwhere all the objects you see must renew your grief: my vessel is\nat your service, where you may absolutely command as you think\nfit.' He accepted the offer, and we discoursed the remaining part\nof the night about our sailing.\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 at 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\nhad brought with me, and embarking instead all the precious things\nin the palace, jewels, gold and money. We left the furniture and\ngoods, which consisted of an infinite quantity of plate, etc.,\nbecause our vessel could not carry it, for it would have required\nseveral vessels more to carry all the riches to Bagdad that we\nmight have chosen to take with us.\n\nAfter we had laden the vessel with what we thought fit, we took\nsuch provisions and water aboard as were necessary for our voyage\n(for we had still a great deal of those provisions left that we had\ntaken in at Balsora): at last we set sail with a wind as favourable\nas we could wish.\n\nThe young prince, my sisters and myself enjoyed ourselves for some\ntime very agreeably; but alas! this good understanding did not last\nlong, for my sisters grew jealous of the friendship between the\nprince and me, and maliciously asked me one day what we should do\nwith him when we came to Bagdad. I perceived immediately why they\nput this question to me; therefore, resolving to put it off with a\njest, I answered them, 'I will take him for my husband'; and upon\nthat, turning myself to the prince, 'Sir,' said I, 'I humbly beg of\nyou to give your consent; for as soon as we come to Bagdad I design\nto do you all the service that is in my power and to resign myself\nwholly 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,\nas my lady and mistress. Nor will I pretend to have any power over\nyour actions.' At these words my sisters changed colour, and I\ncould perceive afterwards that they did not love me as formerly.\n\nWe had come into the Persian Gulf, not far from Balsora, where I\nhoped, considering the fair wind, we might arrive 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 for some minutes in the water; but by good\nfortune, or rather miracle, I soon felt ground. I went towards a\nblack place, that, so far as I could discern in the dark, seemed to\nbe land, and actually was a flat on the coast. When day came, I\nfound it to be a desert island, lying about twenty miles from\nBalsora. I soon dried my clothes in the sun; and as I walked along\nI found several sorts of fruit, and likewise fresh water, which\ngave me some hope of preserving my life.\n\nI laid myself down in the 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 was ill. I arose, and saw a larger serpent following him,\nholding him by the tail, and endeavouring to devour him. I had\ncompassion on him, and instead of flying away, I had the boldness\nand courage to take up a stone that by chance lay by me, and threw\nit with all my strength at the great serpent, whom I hit on the\nhead, and killed him. The other, finding himself at liberty, took\nto his wings and flew away. I looked a long while after him in the\nair, as an extraordinary thing; but he flew out of sight, and I lay\ndown again in another place in the shade, and fell asleep.\n\nWhen I awoke, judge how surprised I was to see by me a black woman,\nof lively and agreeable looks, who held, tied together in her hand,\ntwo dogs of the same colour. I sat up and asked her who she was. 'I\nam,' said she, 'the serpent whom you delivered not long since from\nmy mortal enemy. I knew not how to acknowledge the great kindness\nyou did me, but by doing what I have done. I knew the treachery of\nyour sisters, and, to revenge you on them, as soon as I was set at\nliberty by your generous assistance I called several of my\ncompanions together, fairies like myself. We have carried into your\nstorehouses at Bagdad all your lading that was in your vessel, and\nafterwards sunk it.\n\n'These two black dogs are your sisters, whom I have transformed\ninto this shape. But this punishment is not sufficient; for I will\nhave you treat them after such a manner as I shall direct.'\n\nAt those words the fairy took me fast under one of her arms, and\nthe two dogs 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 the two dogs, and\ntold me, 'If you will not be changed into a dog as they are, I\norder you to give each of your sisters every night a hundred lashes\nwith a rod, for the punishment of the crime they have committed\nagainst your person and the young prince whom they drowned.' I was\nforced to promise that I would obey her order. For many months I\nwhipped them every night, though with regret. I gave evidence by my\ntears with how much sorrow and reluctance I must perform this cruel\nduty.\n\nNow the fairy had left with me a bundle of hair, saying withal that\nher presence would one day be of use to me; and then, if I only\nburnt two tufts of this hair, she would be with me in a moment,\nthough she were beyond Mount Caucasus.\n\nDesirous at length to see the fairy and beg her to restore the two\nblack dogs, my sisters, to their proper shape, I caused fire one\nday to be brought in, and threw the whole bundle of hair into it.\nThe house began to shake at that very instant, and the fairy\nappeared in the form of a lady very richly dressed.\n\nI besought her, with every form of entreaty I could employ, to\nrestore my sisters to their natural shape, and to release me from\nthe cruel duty that I had always unwillingly performed.\n\nThe fairy at length consented, and desired a bowl of water to be\nbrought; she pronounced over it some words which I did not\nunderstand, and then sprinkled the water upon the dogs. They\nimmediately became two ladies of surprising beauty, and I\nrecognised in them the sisters to whose human form I had so long\nbeen a stranger. They soon after married the sons of kings, and\nlived happily for the rest of their lives.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                   THE STORY OF THE KING'S SON.\n\n\n\nI was scarcely past my infancy when the king my father perceived\nthat I was endowed with a great deal of sense, and spared nothing\nin improving it; he employed all the men in his dominions that\nexcelled in science and art to be constantly about me. No sooner\nwas I able to read and write than I learned the Koran from the\nbeginning to the end by heart; that admirable book which contains\nthe foundation, the precepts, and the rules of our religion; and\nthat I might be thoroughly instructed in it, I read the works of\nthe most approved authors, by whose commentaries it had been\nexplained. 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\nall that had any relation to our religion, but made also a\nparticular search into our histories. I made myself perfect in\npolite learning, in the works of poets, and in versification. I\napplied myself to geography, chronology, and to speak our Arabic\ntongue in its purity. But one thing which I was fond of and\nsucceeded in to a special degree was to form the characters of our\nwritten 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\nthe renown 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 very soon saw fifty\nhorsemen, well armed, that were robbers, coming towards us at full\ngallop.\n\nAs we had ten horses laden with baggage and presents that I was to\ncarry to the Indian sultan from the king my father, and my retinue\nwas but small, these robbers came boldly up to us. Not being in a\nposition to make any resistance, we told them that we were\nambassadors belonging to the Sultan of the Indies, and hoped they\nwould attempt nothing contrary to that respect which is due to him,\nthinking by this means to save our equipage and our lives.\n\nBut the robbers most insolently replied, 'For what reason would you\nhave us show any respect to the sultan your master? We are none of\nhis subjects, nor are we upon his territories.'\n\nHaving spoken thus, they surrounded and fell upon us. I defended\nmyself as long as I could, but finding myself wounded, and seeing\nthe ambassador with his servants and mine lying on the ground, I\nmade use of what strength was yet remaining in my horse, who was\nalso very much wounded, separated myself from the crowd, and rode\naway as fast as he could carry me; but he happened all of a sudden\nto give way under me, through weariness and loss of blood, and fell\ndown dead. I got rid of him in a trice, and finding that I was not\npursued, it made me judge that the robbers were not willing to quit\nthe booty they had got.\n\nHere you see me alone, wounded, destitute of help, and in a strange\ncountry: I durst not betake myself to the high road, lest I might\nfall again into the hands of these robbers. When I had bound up my\nwound, which was not dangerous, I walked on for the rest of the\nday, and arrived at the foot of a mountain, where I perceived a\npassage into a cave: I went in, and stayed there that night with\nlittle satisfaction, after I had eaten some fruits that I gathered\nby the way.\n\nI continued my journey for several days without finding any place\nof abode; but after a month's time, I came to a large town, well\ninhabited, and situated so advantageously, as it was surrounded\nwith several rivers, that it enjoyed perpetual spring.\n\nThe pleasant objects which then presented themselves to my eyes\nafforded me joy, and suspended for a time the sorrow with which I\nwas overwhelmed to find myself in such a condition. My face, hands\nand feet were black and sunburnt; and, owing to my long journey, my\nshoes 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 learn where I was, and addressed myself to\na tailor that was at work in his shop; who, perceiving by my air\nthat I was a person of more note than my outward appearance bespoke\nme to be, made me sit down by him, and asked me who I was, from\nwhence I came, and what had brought me thither? I did not conceal\nanything that had befallen me.\n\nThe tailor listened with attention to my words; but after I had\ndone speaking, instead of giving me any consolation, he augmented\nmy sorrow.\n\n'Take heed,' said he, 'how you discover to any person what you have\nnow declared to me; for the prince of this country is the greatest\nenemy that the king your father has, and he will certainly do you\nsome mischief when he comes to hear of your being in this city.'\n\nI made no doubt of the tailor's sincerity, when he named the\nprince, and returned him thanks for his good advice: and as he\nbelieved I could not but be hungry, he ordered something to be\nbrought for me to eat, and offered me at the same time a lodging in\nhis house, which I accepted. Some days after, finding me pretty\nwell recovered from the fatigue I had endured by a long and tedious\njourney, and reflecting that most princes of our religion applied\nthemselves to some art or calling that might be serviceable to them\nupon occasion, he asked me if I had learnt anything whereby I might\nget a livelihood, and not be burdensome to any one? I told him that\nI understood the laws, both divine and human; that I was a\ngrammarian and poet; and, above all, that I understood writing\nperfectly.\n\n'By all this,' said he, 'you will not be able, in this country, to\npurchase yourself one morsel of bread; nothing is of less use here\nthan those sciences: but if you will be advised by me,' said he,\n'dress yourself in a labourer's frock; and since you appear to be\nstrong and of a good constitution, you shall go into the next\nforest and cut fire-wood, which you may bring to the market to be\nsold; and I can assure you it will turn to such good account that\nyou may live by it, without dependence upon any man: and by this\nmeans you will be in a condition to wait for the favourable moment\nwhen Heaven shall think fit to dispel those clouds of misfortune\nthat thwart your happiness, and oblige you to conceal your birth. I\nwill take care to supply you with 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\nhardships that attended it. The day following the tailor bought me\na rope, a hatchet, and a short coat, and recommended me to some\npoor people who gained their bread after the same manner, that they\nmight take me into their company. They conducted me to the wood,\nand the first day I brought in as much upon my head as earned me\nhalf a piece of gold, which is the money of that country; for\nthough the wood is not far distant from the town, yet it was very\nscarce there, for few or none would be at the trouble to go and cut\nit. I gained a good sum of money in a short time, and repaid my\ntailor what he had advanced for me.\n\nI continued this way of living for a whole year; and one day, when\nby chance I had gone farther into the wood than usual, I happened\nto light on a very pleasant place, where I began to cut down wood;\nand in pulling up the root of a tree, I espied an iron ring,\nfastened to a trap-door of the same metal. I took away the earth\nthat covered it, and having lifted it up, saw stairs, down which I\nwent, with my axe in my hand.\n\nWhen I came to the bottom of the stairs, I found myself in a large\npalace, which put me into great consternation, because of a great\nlight which appeared as clear in it as if it had been above ground\nin the open air. I went forward along a gallery supported by\npillars of jasper, the base and capitals of massy gold; but seeing\na lady of a noble and free air and extremely beautiful coming\ntowards me, my eyes were taken off from beholding any other object\nbut her alone.\n\nBeing desirous to spare the lady the trouble of coming to me, I\nmade haste to meet her; and as I was saluting her with a low bow,\nshe asked me, 'What are you, a man or a genie?'\n\n'A man, madam,' said I: 'I have no correspondence with genies.'\n\n'By what adventure,' said she, fetching a deep sigh, 'are you come\nhither? I have lived here these twenty-five years, and never saw\nany man but yourself during that time.'\n\nHer great beauty, and the sweetness and civility wherewith she\nreceived me, emboldened me to say to her, 'Madam, before I have the\nhonour to satisfy your curiosity, give me leave to tell you that I\nam infinitely pleased with this unexpected meeting, which offers me\nan occasion of consolation in the midst of my affliction; and\nperhaps it may give me an opportunity to make you also more happy\nthan you are.' I gave her a true account by what strange accident\nshe saw me, the son of a king, in such a condition as I then\npresented to her eyes; and how fortune directed that I should\ndiscover the entrance into that magnificent prison where I had\nfound her according to appearances in an unpleasant situation.\n\n'Alas! prince,' said she, sighing once more, 'you have just cause\nto believe this rich and pompous prison cannot be otherwise than a\nmost wearisome abode; the most charming place in the world being no\nway delightful when we are detained there contrary to our will. You\nhave heard of the great Epitimarus, King of the Isle of Ebony, so\ncalled from that precious wood, which it produces in abundance: I\nam the princess his daughter.\n\n'The king, my father, had chosen for me a husband, a prince that\nwas my cousin; but in the midst of the rejoicing at the court,\nbefore I was given to my husband, a genie took me away. I fainted\nat the same moment, and lost my senses; and when I came to myself\nagain, I found myself in this place. I was for a long time\ninconsolable, but time and necessity have accustomed me to the\ngenie. Twenty-five years, as I told you before, I have continued in\nthis place; where, I must confess, I have everything that I can\nwish for necessary to life, and also everything that can satisfy a\nprincess fond of dress and fashions.\n\n'Every ten days,' continued the princess, 'the genie comes hither\nto see me. Meanwhile, if I have occasion for him by day or night,\nas soon as I touch a talisman which is at the entrance into my\nchamber, the genie appears. It is now the fourth day since he was\nhere, and I do not expect him before the end of six more; so, if\nyou please, you may stay five days and keep me company, and I will\nendeavour to entertain you according to your rank and merit.'\n\nI thought myself too fortunate in having obtained so great a favour\nwithout asking it to refuse so obliging an offer. The princess made\nme go into a bath, which was the most sumptuous that could be\nimagined; and when I came forth, instead of my own clothes, I found\nanother very costly suit, which I did not esteem so much for its\nrichness as because it made me look worthy to be in her company. We\nsat down on a sofa covered with rich tapestry, with cushions to\nlean upon of the rarest Indian brocade; and soon after she covered\na table with several dishes of delicate meats. We ate together, and\npassed the remaining part of the day with much satisfaction.\n\nThe next day, as she contrived every means to please me, she\nbrought in, at dinner, a bottle of old wine, the most excellent\nthat ever was tasted; and out of complaisance she drank some part\nof it with me. When my head grew hot with the agreeable liquor,\n'Fair princess,' said I, 'you have been too long thus buried alive:\nfollow me, and enjoy the real day, from which you have been\ndeprived so many years, and abandon this false light that you have\nhere.'\n\n'Prince,' replied she, with a smile, 'stop this discourse; if out\nof ten days you will grant me nine, and resign the last to the\ngenie, the fairest day that ever was would be nothing in my\nesteem.'\n\n'Princess,' said I, 'it is the fear of the genie that makes you\nspeak thus; for my part, I value him so little that I will break\nhis talisman in pieces. Let him come, I will expect him; and how\nbrave or redoubtable soever he be, I will make him feel the weight\nof my arm: I swear, solemnly that I will extirpate all the genies\nin the world, and him first.' The princess, who knew the\nconsequences, conjured me not to touch the talisman; 'for that\nwould be a means,' said she, 'to ruin 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\nThe talisman was no sooner broken, than 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.\n'Princess,' cried I, 'what means all this?'\n\nShe answered in a fright, and without any concern for her own\nmisfortune, 'Alas! you are undone, if you do not escape\nimmediately.'\n\nI followed her advice, and my fears were so great that I forgot my\nhatchet and cords. I had scarcely got to the stairs by which I came\ndown, when the enchanted palace opened, and made a passage for the\ngenie: he asked the princess, in great anger, 'What has happened to\nyou, and why did you call me?'\n\n'A qualm,' said the princess, 'made me fetch this bottle which you\nsee here, out of which I drank twice or thrice, and by mischance\nmade a false step, and fell upon the talisman, which is broken, and\nthat 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?'\n\n'I never saw them till this moment,' said the princess. 'Your\ncoming in such an impetuous manner has, it may be, forced them up\nin some place as you came along, and so brought them hither without\nyour knowing it.'\n\nThe genie made no other answer but reproaches and blows of which I\nheard the noise. I could not endure to hear the pitiful cries and\nshouts of the princess, so cruelly abused; I had already laid off\nthe suit she made me put on, and taken my own, which I had laid on\nthe stairs the day before, when I came out of the bath; I made\nhaste upstairs, distracted with sorrow and compassion, as I had\nbeen the cause of so great a misfortune. For by sacrificing the\nfairest princess on earth to the barbarity of a merciless genie, I\nwas become the most criminal and ungrateful of mankind. 'It is\ntrue,' said I, 'she has been a prisoner these twenty-five years;\nbut, liberty excepted, she wanted nothing that could make her\nhappy. My folly has put an end to her happiness, and brought upon\nher the cruelty of an unmerciful monster.' I let down the trap-\ndoor, covered it again with earth, and returned to the city with a\nburden of wood, which I bound up without knowing what I did, so\ngreat 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, because 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\nparalleled the princess's good fortune and mine had I forborne to\nbreak the talisman.'\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\nme here your hatchet and cords, which he found in his way, as he\ntells me, and understood from your comrades that you lodge here;\ncome out and speak to him, for he will deliver them to none but\nyourself.'\n\nAt this discourse I changed colour, and began to tremble. While the\ntailor was asking me the reason, my chamber door opened, and the\nold man appeared to us with my hatchet and cords. This was the\ngenie, the ravisher of the fair princess of the Isle of Ebony, who\nhad thus disguised himself, after he had treated her with the\nutmost barbarity. 'I am a genie,' said he, 'son of the daughter of\nEblis, prince of genies. Is not this your hatchet, and are not\nthese your cords?'\n\nAfter the genie had put the question to me, he gave me no time to\nanswer, nor was it in my power, so much had his terrible aspect\ndisordered me. He grasped me by the middle, dragged me out of the\nchamber, and mounting into the air, carried me up to the skies with\nsuch swiftness that I was unable to take notice of the way he\ncarried me. He descended again in like manner to the earth, which\non a sudden he caused to open with a stroke of his foot, and so\nsank down at once, where I found myself in the enchanted palace,\nbefore the fair princess of the Isle of Ebony. But alas, what a\nspectacle was there! I saw what pierced me to the heart; this poor\nprincess was weltering in her blood upon the ground, more dead than\nalive, with her cheeks bathed in tears.\n\n'Perfidious wretch,' said the genie to her; pointing at me, 'who is\nthis?'\n\nShe cast her languishing eyes upon me, and answered mournfully, 'I\ndo not know him; I never saw him till this moment.'\n\n'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?'\n\n'If I do not know him,' said the princess, 'would you have me tell\na lie on purpose to ruin him?'\n\n'Oh then,' continued the genie, pulling out a scimitar, and\npresenting it to the princess, 'if you never saw him before, take\nthe scimitar and cut off his head.'\n\n'Alas!' replied the princess, 'my strength is so far spent that I\ncannot lift up my arm, and if I could, how should I have the heart\nto take away the life of an innocent man?'\n\n'This refusal,' said the genie to the princess, 'sufficiently\ninforms me of your crime.' Upon which, turning to me, 'And thou,'\nsaid 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\nher?'\n\n'If it be so,' said he, 'take the scimitar and cut off her head: on\nthis condition I will set thee at liberty, for then I shall be\nconvinced that thou didst never see her till this very moment, as\nthou sayest.'\n\n'With all my heart,' replied I, and took the scimitar in my hand.\n\nBut I did it only to demonstrate by my behaviour, as much as\npossible, that as she had shown her resolution to sacrifice her\nlife for my sake, I would not refuse to sacrifice mine for hers.\nThe princess, notwithstanding her pain and suffering, understood my\nmeaning, which she signified by an obliging look. Upon this I\nstepped back, and threw the scimitar on the ground. 'I should for\never,' said I to the genie, 'be hateful to all mankind were I to be\nso base as to murder a lady like this, who is ready to give up the\nghost: do with me what you please, since I am in your power; I\ncannot obey your barbarous commands.'\n\n'I see,' said the genie, 'that you both outbrave me, but both of\nyou shall know, by the treatment I give you, what I am capable of\ndoing.' At these words the monster took up the scimitar and cut off\none of her hands, which left her only so much life as to give me a\ntoken with the other that she bid me adieu for ever, the sight of\nwhich threw me into a fit. When I was come to myself again, I\nexpostulated with the genie as to why he made me languish in\nexpectation of death. 'Strike,' cried I, 'for I am ready to receive\nthe mortal blow, and expect it as the greatest favour you can show\nme.' But instead of agreeing to that, 'Look you,' said he, 'how\ngenies treat their wives whom they suspect: she has received you\nhere, and were I certain that she had put any further affront upon\nme, I would put you to death this minute: but I will be content to\ntransform you into a dog, ape, lion, or bird. Take your choice of\nany of these; I will leave it to yourself.'\n\nThese words gave me some hope to mollify him. 'Oh genie,' said I,\n'moderate your passion, and since you will not take away my life,\ngive it me generously; I shall always remember you, if you pardon\nme, as one of the best men in the world.'\n\n'All that I can do for you,' said he, 'is, not to take your life:\ndo not flatter yourself that I will send you back safe and sound; I\nmust let you feel what I am able to do by my enchantments.' So\nsaying, he laid violent hands on me, and carried me across the\nvault of the subterranean palace, which opened to give him passage.\nThen he flew up with me so high that the earth seemed to be only a\nlittle white cloud; from thence he came down like lightning, and\nalighted 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 you that\nof an ape.' He vanished immediately, and left me alone, transformed\ninto an ape, overwhelmed with sorrow in a strange country, and not\nknowing whether I was near or far from my father's dominions.\n\nI went down from the top of the mountain and came into a plain,\nwhich took me a month's time to travel through, and then I came to\nthe seaside. It happened to be then a great calm, and I espied a\nvessel about half a league from the shore. Unwilling to lose this\ngood opportunity, I broke off a large branch from a tree, which I\ncarried with me to the seaside, and set myself astride upon it,\nwith 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 near 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 meantime 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;\n'therefore,' said one, 'I will knock him down with a handspike';\nsaid another, 'I will shoot an arrow through him'; said a third,\n'Let us throw him into the sea.' Some of them would not have failed\nto do so, if I had not got to that side where the captain was. I\nthrew myself at his feet, and took him by the coat in a begging\nposture. This action, together with the tears which he saw gush\nfrom my eyes, moved his compassion; so that he took me under his\nprotection, threatening to be revenged on him that would do me the\nleast hurt; and he himself made very much of me, while I on my\npart, though I had no power to speak, showed all possible signs of\ngratitude 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\nfine city, well peopled, and of great trade, the capital of a\npowerful State, where we came to 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\nship that came from a far country.\n\nAmongst the rest, some officers came on board, 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. You must know that we had\na prime vizier who, besides having a great capacity to manage\naffairs, understood writing to the highest perfection. This\nminister is lately dead, at which the sultan is very much troubled;\nand since he can never behold his writing without admiration, he\nhas made a solemn vow not to give the place to any man but to him\nwho can write as well as he did. Many people have presented their\nwritings, but, so far, nobody in all this empire has been judged\nworthy to supply the vizier's place.'\n\nThose merchants that believed they could write well enough to\naspire to this high dignity wrote one after another what they\nthought fit. After they had done, I advanced, and took the roll out\nof the gentleman's 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\ntheir fear turned into admiration. However, since they had never\nseen an ape that could write, nor could be persuaded that I was\nmore ingenious than other apes, they tried to snatch the roll out\nof my hand; but the captain took my part once more. 'Let him\nalone,' said he; 'suffer him to write. If he only scribbles the\npaper, I promise you that I will punish him on the spot. If, on the\ncontrary, he writes well, as I hope he will, because I never saw an\nape so clever and ingenious and so quick of apprehension, I do\ndeclare that I will own him as my son; I had one that had not half\nthe wit that he has.' Perceiving that nobody opposed my design, I\ntook the pen and wrote six sorts of hands used among the Arabians,\nand each specimen contained an extemporary verse or poem in praise\nof the sultan. My writing did not only excel that of the merchants,\nbut, I venture to say, they had not before seen any such fair\nwriting in that country. When I had done, the officers took the\nroll, and carried it to the sultan.\n\nThe sultan took little notice of any of the other writings, but he\ncarefully considered mine, which was so much to his liking that he\nsaid to the officers, 'Take the finest horse in my stable, with the\nrichest harness, and a robe of the most sumptuous brocade to put\nupon that person who wrote the six hands, and bring him hither to\nme.' At this command the officers could not forbear laughing. The\nsultan grew angry at their boldness, and was ready to punish them,\ntill they told him, 'Sir, we humbly beg your majesty's pardon;\nthese hands were not written by a man, but by an ape.'\n\n'What do you say?' said the sultan. 'Those admirable characters,\nare they not written by the hands of a man?'\n\n'No, sir,' replied the officers; 'we do assure your majesty that it\nwas an ape, who wrote them in our presence.'\n\nThe sultan was too much surprised at this not to desire a sight of\nme, and therefore said, 'Bring me speedily that wonderful ape.'\n\nThe officers returned to the vessel and showed the captain their\norder, who answered that the sultan's commands 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 having 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\nthe ground before him, and afterwards sat down in the posture of an\nape. The whole assembly admired me, and could not comprehend how it\nwas possible that an ape should understand so well how to pay the\nsultan his due respect; and he himself was more astonished than any\none. In short, the usual ceremony of the audience would have been\ncomplete could I have added speech to my behaviour: but apes never\nspeak, and the advantage I had of having been a man did not allow\nme that privilege.\n\nThe sultan dismissed his courtiers, and none remained by him but\nthe chief of the chamberlains, a young slave, and myself. He went\nfrom his chamber of audience into his own apartment, where he\nordered dinner to be brought. As he sat at table he gave me a sign\nto come near and eat with them: to show my obedience I kissed the\nground, stood up, sat down at table, and ate with discretion and\nmoderation.\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, which increased his astonishment.\nWhen the table was uncovered, they brought him a particular liquor,\nof which he caused them to give me a glass. I drank, and wrote upon\nit some new verses, which explained the state I was reduced to\nafter many sufferings. The sultan read them likewise, and said, 'A\nman that was capable of doing so much would be above the greatest\nof men.'\n\nThe sultan caused them to bring in a chess-board, and asked me, by\na sign, if I understood the 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,\nI made a poem to pacify him; in which I told him that two potent\narmies had been fighting furiously all day, but that they made up a\npeace 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 whatever\nany one had either seen or known of the cleverness or sense of\napes, he determined not to be the only witness of those prodigies\nhimself; but having a daughter, called the Lady of Beauty, on whom\nthe chief of the chamberlains, then present, waited, 'Go,' said the\nsultan to him, 'and bid your lady come hither: I am desirous she\nshould share my pleasure.'\n\nThe chamberlain went, and immediately brought the princess, who had\nher face uncovered; but she had no sooner come into the room than\nshe put on her veil, and said to the sultan, 'Sir, your majesty\nmust needs have forgotten yourself: I am very much surprised that\nyour majesty has sent for me to appear among men.'\n\n'Nay, daughter,' said the sultan, 'you do not know what you say:\nhere is nobody but the little slave, the chamberlain your attendant\nand myself, who have the liberty to see your face; and yet you\nlower your veil, and blame me for having sent for you hither.'\n\n'Sir,' said the princess, 'your majesty shall soon understand that\nI am not in the wrong. That ape you see before you, though he has\nthe shape of an ape, is a young prince, son of a great king; he has\nbeen metamorphosed into an ape by enchantment. A genie, the son of\nthe daughter of Eblis, has maliciously done him this wrong, after\nhaving cruelly taken away the life of the Princess of the Isle of\nEbony, daughter to the King Epitimarus.'\n\nThe sultan, astonished at this discourse, turned towards me and\nasked no more by signs, but in plain words if it was true what his\ndaughter said? Seeing I could not speak, I put my hand to my head\nto signify that what the princess spoke was true. Upon this the\nsultan said again to his daughter, 'How do you know that this\nprince has been transformed by enchantments into an ape?'\n\n'Sir,' replied the Lady of Beauty, 'your majesty may remember that\nwhen I was past my infancy, I had an old lady to wait upon me; she\nwas a most expert magician, and taught me seventy rules of magic,\nby virtue of which I can transport your capital city into the midst\nof the sea in the twinkling of an eye, or beyond Mount Caucasus. By\nthis science I know all enchanted persons at first sight. I know\nwho they are, and by whom they have been enchanted. Therefore do\nnot be surprised if I should forthwith relieve this prince, in\nspite of the enchantments, from that which hinders him from\nappearing in your sight what he naturally is.'\n\n'Daughter,' said the sultan, 'I did not believe you to have\nunderstood so much.'\n\n'Sir,' replied the princess, 'these things are curious and worth\nknowing, but I think I ought not to boast of them.'\n\n'Since it is so,' said the sultan, 'you can dispel the prince's\nenchantment.'\n\n'Yes, sir,' said the princess, 'I can restore him to his first\nshape again.'\n\n'Do it then,' said the sultan; 'you cannot do me a greater\npleasure, for I will have him to be my vizier, and he shall marry\nyou.'\n\n'Sir,' said the princess, 'I am ready to obey you in all that you\nmay be pleased to command me.'\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 chamberlains,\nthe little 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 Arabic 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 spells, and\nrepeated verses out of the Koran. The air grew insensibly dark, as\nif it had been night and the whole world about to be dissolved; we\nfound ourselves struck with a panic, and this fear increased the\nmore when we saw the genie, the son of the daughter of Eblis,\nappear on a sudden in the shape of a lion of a frightful size.\n\nAs soon as the princess perceived this monster, 'You dog,' said\nshe, 'instead of creeping before me, dare you present yourself in\nthis shape, thinking to frighten me?'\n\n'And thou,' replied the lion, 'art thou not afraid to break the\ntreaty which was solemnly made and confirmed between us by oath,\nnot to wrong or to do one another any hurt?'\n\n'Oh! thou cursed creature!' replied the princess, 'I can justly\nreproach thee with doing so.'\n\nThe lion answered fiercely, 'Thou shalt quickly have thy reward for\nthe trouble thou hast given me to return.' With that he opened his\nterrible throat, and ran at her to devour her, but she, being on\nher guard, leaped backward, got time to pull out one of her hairs\nand, by pronouncing three or four words, changed it into a sharp\nsword, wherewith she cut the lion 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\nprincess turned herself into a serpent, and fought the scorpion,\nwho finding himself worsted, took the shape of an eagle, and flew\naway; but the serpent at the same time took also the shape of an\neagle that was black and much stronger, and pursued him, so that we\nlost sight of 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. The pomegranate\nswelled immediately, and became as big as a gourd, which, mounting\nup to the roof of the gallery, rolled there for some space\nbackwards and forwards, fell down again into the court, and broke\ninto several pieces.\n\nThe wolf, which had in the meanwhile transformed itself into a\ncock, fell to picking up the seeds of the pomegranate one after\nanother, but finding no more, he came towards us with his wings\nspread, making a great noise, as if he would ask us whether there\nwere any more seeds. There was one lying on the brink of the canal,\nwhich the cock perceived as he went back, and ran speedily thither,\nbut just as he was going to pick it up, the seed rolled into the\nriver, and turned into a little fish.\n\nThe cock jumped into the river and was turned into a pike that\npursued the small fish; they continued both under water for over\ntwo hours, and we knew not what had become of them. All of 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\nto close quarters; then the two fires increased, with a thick\nburning smoke, which mounted so high that we had reason to fear it\nwould set the palace on fire. But we very soon had a more urgent\nreason for fear, for the genie, having got loose from the princess,\ncame to the gallery where we stood, and blew flames of fire upon\nus. We should all have perished if the princess, running to our\nassistance, had not by her cries forced him to retire, and defend\nhimself against her; yet, notwithstanding all her exertions, she\ncould not hinder the sultan's beard from being burnt, and his face\nspoiled, nor the chief of the chamberlains from being stifled and\nburnt on the spot. The sultan and I expected nothing but death,\nwhen we heard a cry of 'Victory, victory!' and on a sudden the\nprincess appeared in her natural shape, but the genie was reduced\nto a heap of ashes.\n\nThe princess came near to us that she might not lose time, called\nfor a cupful 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 when I became a man\nas I was before.\n\nI was preparing to give thanks to the princess, but she prevented\nme by addressing herself to her father, thus: 'Sir, I have gained\nthe victory over the genie, as your majesty may see; but it is a\nvictory that costs me dear. I have but a few minutes to live, and\nyou will not have the satisfaction of making the match you\nintended; the fire has pierced me during the terrible combat, and I\nfind it is consuming me by degrees. This would not have happened\nhad I perceived the last of the pomegranate seeds, and swallowed it\nas I did the others, when I was changed into a cock; the genie had\nfled thither as to his last entrenchment, and upon that the success\nof the combat depended, without danger to me. This slip obliged me\nto have recourse to fire, and to fight with those mighty arms as I\ndid between heaven and earth, in your presence; for, in spite of\nall his redoubtable art and experience, I made the genie know that\nI understood more than he. I have conquered and reduced him to\nashes, but I cannot escape death, which is approaching.'\n\nThe sultan suffered the princess, the Lady Or Beauty, to go on with\nthe recital of her combat, and when she had done he spoke to her in\na tone that sufficiently testified his grief: 'My daughter,' said\nhe, 'you see in what condition your father is; alas! I wonder that\nI am yet alive!' He could speak no more, for his tears, sighs and\nsobs made him speechless; his daughter and I wept with him.\n\nIn the meantime, while we were vieing 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, like the genie.\n\nHow grieved I was at so dismal a spectacle! I had rather all my\nlife have continued an ape or a dog than to have seen my\nbenefactress thus miserably perish. The sultan, being afflicted\nbeyond all that can be imagined, cried out piteously, and beat\nhimself on his head, until being quite overcome with grief, he\nfainted away, which made me fear for his life. In the meantime the\nofficers came running at the sultan's cries, and with very much ado\nbrought him to himself again. There was no need for him and me to\ngive them a long narrative of this adventure, in order to convince\nthem of their great loss. The two heaps of ashes, into which the\nprincess and the genie had been reduced, were sufficient\ndemonstration. The sultan was hardly able to stand, but had to be\nsupported till he could get to his apartment.\n\nWhen the news of the tragical event had spread through the palace\nand the city, all the people bewailed the misfortune of the\nprincess, the Lady of Beauty, and were much affected by the\nsultan's affliction. Every one was in deep mourning for seven days,\nand many ceremonies were performed. The ashes of the genie were\nthrown into the air, but those of the princess were gathered into a\nprecious urn to be kept, and the urn was set in a stately tomb\nwhich was built for that purpose on the same place where the ashes\nhad lain.\n\nThe grief which the sultan felt for the loss of his daughter threw\nhim into a fit of illness, which confined him to his chamber for a\nwhole month. He had not fully recovered strength when he sent for\nme: '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.'\nI assured him of exact obedience, upon which he went on thus: 'I\nhave constantly lived in perfect felicity, and was never crossed by\nany accident: but by your arrival all the happiness I possessed is\nvanished; my daughter is dead, her attendant 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 farther\ndelay, for I myself must perish if you stay any longer: I am\npersuaded that your presence brings mischief along, with it. This\nis all I have to say to you. Depart, and beware 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 with words full of anger; and so I was obliged to leave\nhis palace, rejected, banished, an outcast from the world, and not\nknowing what would become of me. And so I became a hermit.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n              THE FIRST VOYAGE OF SINBAD THE SAILOR.\n\n\n\nMy father left me a considerable estate, the best part of which I\nspent in riotous living during my youth; but I perceived my error,\nand reflected that riches were perishable, and quickly consumed by\nsuch ill managers as myself. I further considered that by my\nirregular way of living I had wretchedly misspent my time which is\nthe most valuable thing in the world. Struck with those\nreflections, I collected the remains of my furniture, and sold all\nmy patrimony by public auction to the highest bidder. Then I\nentered into a contract with some merchants, who traded by sea: I\ntook the advice of such as I thought most capable to give it me;\nand resolving to improve what money I had, I went to Balsora and\nembarked with several merchants on board a ship which we jointly\nfitted out.\n\nWe set sail, and steered our course towards the East Indies,\nthrough the Persian Gulf, which is formed by the coasts of Arabia\nFelix on the right, and by those of Persia on the left, and,\naccording to common opinion, is seventy leagues across at the\nbroadest part. The eastern sea, as well as that of the Indies, is\nvery spacious: it is bounded on one side by the coasts of\nAbyssinia, and is 4,500 leagues in length to the isles of Vakvak.\nAt first I was troubled with sea-sickness, but speedily recovered\nmy health, and was not afterwards 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, almost even 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 do so to land\nupon the island, amongst whom I was one.\n\nBut while we were diverting ourselves with eating and drinking, and\nrecovering ourselves from the fatigue of the sea, the island on a\nsudden trembled, and shook us terribly.\n\nThey perceived the trembling of the island on board the ship, and\ncalled us to re-embark speedily, or we should all be lost, for what\nwe took for an island was only the back of a whale. The nimblest\ngot into the sloop, others betook themselves to swimming; but for\nmy part I was still upon the back of the whale when he dived into\nthe sea, and had time only to catch hold of a piece of wood that we\nhad brought out of the ship to make a fire. Meanwhile, the captain,\nhaving received those on board who were in the sloop, and taken up\nsome of those that swam, resolved to use the favourable gale that\nhad just risen, and hoisting his sails, pursued his voyage, so that\nit was impossible for me to regain the ship.\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\nI found my strength gone, and despaired of saving my life, when\nhappily a wave threw me against an island. 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 look\nfor some herbs fit to eat, and had the good luck not only to find\nsome, but likewise a spring of excellent water, which contributed\nmuch to restore me. After this I advanced farther into the island,\nand came at last into a fine plain, where I perceived a horse\nfeeding at a great distance. I went towards him, between hope and\nfear, not knowing whether I was going to lose my life or save it.\nPresently 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 ate some victuals which they offered me, and then asked them what\nthey did in such a desert place. They answered that they were\ngrooms belonging to King Mihrage, sovereign of the island, and that\nevery year they brought thither the king's horses. They added that\nthey were to get home to-morrow, and had I been one day later I\nmust have perished, because the inhabited part of the island was at\na great distance, and it would have been impossible for me to have\ngot thither without a guide.\n\nNext morning they returned with their horses to the capital of the\nisland, took me with them, and presented me to King Mihrage. He\nasked me who I was, and by what adventure I came into his\ndominions? And, after I had satisfied him he told me he was much\nconcerned for my misfortune, and at the same time ordered that I\nshould want for nothing, which his officers were so generous and\ncareful as to see exactly fulfilled.\n\nBeing a merchant, I frequented the society of men of my own\nprofession, and particularly inquired for those who were strangers,\nif perhaps I might hear any news from Bagdad, or find an\nopportunity to return thither, for King Mihrage's capital was\nsituated on the edge of the sea, and had a fine harbour, where\nships arrived daily from the different quarters of the world. I\nfrequented also the society of the learned Indians, and took\ndelight in hearing them discourse; but withal I took care to make\nmy court regularly to the king, and conversed with the governors\nand petty kings, his tributaries, that were about him. They asked\nme a thousand questions about my country, and I, being willing to\ninform myself as to their laws and customs, asked them everything\nwhich I thought worth knowing.\n\nThere belonged to this king an island named Cassel. They assured me\nthat every night a noise of drums was heard there, whence the\nmariners fancied that it was the residence of Degial. I had a great\nmind to see this wonderful place, and on my way thither saw fishes\nof one hundred and two hundred cubits long, that occasion more fear\nthan hurt, for they are so timid that they will fly at the rattling\nof two sticks or boards. I saw likewise other fishes, about a cubit\nin length, that had heads like owls.\n\nAs I was one day at the port after my return, a ship arrived, and\nas soon as she cast anchor, they began to unload her, and the\nmerchants on board ordered their goods to be carried into the\nwarehouse. As I cast my eye upon some bales, and looked at the\nname, I found my own, and perceived the bales to be the same that I\nhad embarked at Balsora. I also knew the captain; but being\npersuaded that he believed me to be drowned, I went and asked him\nwhose bales they were. He replied: 'They belonged to a merchant of\nBagdad, called Sinbad, who came to sea with us; but one day, being\nnear an island, 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 on 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\nSinbad. 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\nreturn the profit.'\n\n'Captain,' said I, 'I am that Sinbad whom you thought to be dead,\nand those bales are mine.'\n\nWhen the captain heard me speak thus, 'O heaven,' said he, 'whom\ncan we ever trust now-a-days? There is no faith left among men. I\nsaw Sinbad perish with my own eyes, and the passengers on board saw\nit as well as I, and yet you tell me you are that Sinbad. What\nimpudence is this! To look at you, one would take you to be a man\nof honesty, and yet you tell a horrible falsehood, in order to\npossess yourself of what does not belong to you.'\n\n'Have patience, captain,' replied I; 'do me the favour to hear what\nI have to say.'\n\n'Very well,' said he, 'speak; I am ready to hear you.' Then I told\nhim how I escaped, and by what adventure I met with the grooms of\nKing Mihrage, who brought me to his court.\n\nHe was soon persuaded that I was no cheat, for there came people\nfrom his ship who knew me, paid me great compliments, and expressed\nmuch joy to see me alive. At last he knew me himself, and embracing\nme, 'Heaven be praised,' said he, 'for your happy escape; I cannot\nenough express my joy for it: there are your goods; take and do\nwith them what you will.' I thanked him, acknowledged his honesty,\nand in return offered him part of my goods as a present, which he\ngenerously refused.\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, camphor, 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 one hundred thousand\nsequins. My family and I received one another with transports of\nsincere friendship. I bought slaves and fine lands, and built me a\ngreat house. And thus I settled myself, resolving to forget the\nmiseries I had suffered, and to enjoy the pleasures of life.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n              THE SECOND VOYAGE OF SINBAD THE SAILOR\n\n\n\nI designed, after my first voyage, to spend the rest of my days at\nBagdad; but it was not long ere I grew weary of a quiet life. My\ninclination to trade revived. I bought goods suited to the commerce\nI intended, and put to sea a second time, with merchants of known\nprobity. We embarked on board a good ship, and after recommending\nourselves to God, set sail. We traded from island to island, and\nexchanged commodities with great profit. One day we landed on an\nisland covered with several sorts of fruit trees, but so unpeopled,\nthat we could see neither man nor beast upon it. We went to take a\nlittle fresh air in the meadows, and along the streams that watered\nthem. Whilst some diverted themselves with gathering flowers, and\nothers with gathering fruits, I took my wine and provisions, and\nsat down by a stream betwixt two great trees, which formed a\ncurious shape. I made a very good meal, and afterwards fell asleep.\nI cannot tell how long I slept, but when I awoke the ship was gone.\n\nI was very much surprised to find the ship gone. I got up and\nlooked about everywhere, and could not see one of the merchants who\nlanded with me. At last I perceived the ship under sail, but at\nsuch a distance that I lost sight of her in a very little 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\nmy head and breast, and threw myself down upon the ground, where I\nlay some time in a terrible agony. I upbraided myself a hundred\ntimes for not being content with the produce of my first voyage,\nthat might well have served me all my life. But all this was in\nvain, 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\nlooked about on all sides to see if there was anything that could\ngive me hope. When I looked towards the sea, I could see nothing\nbut sky and water, but looking towards the land I saw something\nwhite; and, coming down from the tree, I took up what provision I\nhad left and went towards it, the distance being so great that I\ncould not distinguish 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 was occasioned by a bird, of a monstrous size, that came flying\ntoward me. I remembered a fowl, called roc, that I had often heard\nmariners speak of, and conceived that the great bowl, which I so\nmuch admired, must needs be its egg. In short, the bird lighted,\nand sat over the egg to hatch it. As I perceived her coming, I\ncrept close to the egg, so that I had before me one of the legs of\nthe bird, 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 flew away next morning she would carry me with\nher out of this desert island. And after having passed the night in\nthis condition, the bird really flew away next morning, as soon as\nit was day, and carried me so high that I could not see the earth.\nThen she descended all of a sudden, with so much rapidity that I\nlost my senses; but when the roc was settled, and I found myself\nupon the ground, I speedily untied the knot, and had scarcely done\nso when the bird, having taken up a serpent of a monstrous length\nin her bill, flew away.\n\nThe place where she 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\npossibility of getting out of the valley. This was a new\nperplexity, so that when I compared this place with the desert\nisland from which the roc brought me, I found that I had gained\nnothing by the change.\n\nAs I walked through this valley I perceived it was strewn with\ndiamonds, some of which were of surprising bigness. I took a great\ndeal of pleasure in looking at them; but speedily I saw at a\ndistance such objects as very much diminished my satisfaction, and\nwhich I could not look upon without terror; they were a great\nnumber of serpents, so big and so long that the least of them was\ncapable of swallowing an elephant. They retired in the day-time to\ntheir dens, where they hid themselves from the roc, their enemy,\nand did not come out but in the night-time.\n\nI spent the day in walking about the valley, resting myself at\ntimes in such places as I thought most suitable. When night came on\nI went into a cave, where I thought I might be in safety. I stopped\nthe mouth of it, which was low and straight, 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 meantime,\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\nthe cave 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\nlittle more of my provisions; but I had scarcely shut my eyes when\nsomething that fell by me with great noise awakened me. This was a\ngreat piece of fresh meat, and at the same time I saw several\nothers fall down from the rocks in different places.\n\nI had always looked upon it as a fable when I heard mariners and\nothers discourse of the valley of diamonds, and of the stratagems\nmade use of by some merchants to get jewels from thence; but now I\nfound it 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 anywhere 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. And this\nstratagem they make use of to get the diamonds out of the valley,\nwhich is surrounded with such precipices that nobody can enter 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 now I changed my\nmind, for the falling in of those pieces of meat put me in hopes of\na way of saving my life.\n\nI began to gather together the largest diamonds that I could see,\nand put them into the leathern bag in which I used to carry my\nprovisions. I afterwards took the largest piece of meat I could\nfind, tied it close round me with the cloth of my turban, and then\nlaid myself upon the ground, with my face downward, the bag of\ndiamonds being tied fast to my girdle, so that it could not\npossibly drop off.\n\nI had scarcely laid me down before the eagles came. Each of them\nseized a piece of meat, and one of the strongest having taken me\nup, with a piece of meat on my back, carried me to his nest on the\ntop of 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\ncivility when you know me better. Do not trouble yourself; I have\ndiamonds enough for you and myself too, more than all the other\nmerchants together. If they have any, it is by chance; but I chose\nmyself in the bottom of the valley all those which you see in this\nbag'; and having spoken those words, I showed them to him. I had\nscarcely done speaking, when the other merchants came trooping\nabout us, much astonished to see me; but they were much more\nsurprised when I told them my story. Yet they did not so much\nadmire my stratagem to save myself as my courage to attempt it.\n\nThey took me to the place where they were staying 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 had never seen any that came near them. I prayed the\nmerchant to whom the nest belonged (for every merchant had his\nown), to take as many for his share as he pleased. He contented\nhimself with one, and that too the least of them; and when I\npressed him to take more, without fear of doing me any injury,\n'No,' said he, 'I am very well satisfied with this, which is\nvaluable enough to save me the trouble of making any more voyages\nto raise as 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 I was in a dream, and could\nscarcely 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 ship at the nearest port and came to the Isle of\nRoha, where the trees grow that yield camphor. 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 camphor is made runs out\nfrom a hole bored in the upper part of the tree, is received in a\nvessel, where it grows thick, and becomes what we call camphor; and\nthe 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; it has a horn upon its nose\nabout a cubit long; this horn is solid, and cleft in the middle\nfrom one end to the other, and there are upon it white lines,\nrepresenting the figure of a man. The rhinoceros fights with the\nelephant, runs his horn into him, and carries him off upon his\nhead; but the blood of the elephant running into his eyes and\nmaking him blind, he falls to the ground, and then, strange to\nrelate, the roc comes and carries them both away in her claws to be\nfood for her young ones.\n\nHere I exchanged some of my diamonds for good merchandise. From\nthence we went to other isles, and at last, having touched at\nseveral trading towns of the main land, we landed at Balsora, from\nwhence I went to Bagdad. There I immediately gave great alms to the\npoor, and lived honourably upon the vast riches I had gained with\nso much fatigue.\n\n\n\n\n\n              THE THIRD VOYAGE OF SINBAD THE SAILOR.\n\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\nisland, where the captain was very unwilling to enter; but we were\nobliged to cast anchor there. When we had furled our sails the\ncaptain told us that this and some other neighbouring islands were\ninhabited by hairy savages, who would speedily attack us; and\nthough they were but dwarfs, yet our misfortune was that we must\nmake no resistance, for they were more in number than the locusts;\nand if we happened to kill one of them they would all fall upon us\nand destroy us.\n\nThis discourse of the captain put the whole company into a great\nconsternation; and we found very soon, to our cost, that what he\nhad told us was but too true; an innumerable multitude of frightful\nsavages, covered all over with red hair, and about two feet high,\ncame swimming towards us, and in a little time encompassed our\nship. They spoke to us as they came near, but we understood not\ntheir language; they climbed up the sides of the ship with an\nagility that surprised us. We beheld all this with mortal fear,\nwithout daring to offer to defend ourselves, or to speak one word\nto divert them from their mischievous design. In short, they took\ndown our sails, cut the cable, and, hauling to the shore, made us\nall get out, and afterwards carried the ship into another island,\nfrom whence they had come. All travellers carefully avoided that\nisland where they left us, it being very dangerous to stay there,\nfor a reason 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 with double doors,\nwhich we thrust open. We entered the court, where we saw before us\na vast apartment with a porch, having on one side a heap of men's\nbones, and on the other a vast number of roasting spits. We\ntrembled at this spectacle, and, being weary with travelling, our\nlegs failed under us: we fell to the ground, seized with deadly\nfear, and lay a long time motionless.\n\nThe sun had set, and whilst we were in the lamentable condition\njust mentioned, the gate of the apartment opened with a great\nnoise, and there came out the horrible figure of a black man, as\nhigh as a tall palm tree. He had but one eye, and that in the\nmiddle of his forehead, where it looked as red as a burning coal.\nHis fore-teeth were very long and sharp, and stood out of his\nmouth, which was as deep as that of a horse; his upper lip hung\ndown upon his breast; his ears resembled those of an elephant, and\ncovered his shoulders; and his nails were as long and crooked as\nthe talons of the greatest birds. At the sight of so frightful a\ngiant we lost all our senses, and lay like men dead.\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 hand upon me, he took me up by the nape of my\nneck, and turned me round as a butcher would do a sheep's 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, and viewed them in the same manner; and the\ncaptain being the fattest, he held him with one hand, as I might a\nsparrow, and thrusting a spit through him, kindled a great fire,\nroasted, and ate him in his apartment for his supper. This 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 awoke, 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\nthere were a great many of us, and we had but one enemy, we had not\nat first the presence of mind to think of delivering ourselves from\nhim by his death.\n\nWe thought of several other things, but determined nothing; so\nthat, submitting to what it should please God to order concerning\nus, we spent the day in running about the island for fruit and\nherbs to sustain our lives. When evening came, we sought for a\nplace to lie down in, but found none; so that we were forced,\nwhether we would or not, to 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. Those who were of\nthis mind argued with the rest to follow their example; upon which\none of the company answered that we were forbidden to destroy\nourselves; but even if it were lawful, it was more reasonable to\nthink of a way to rid ourselves of the barbarous tyrant who\ndesigned so cruel a death for us.\n\nHaving thought of a project for that end, I communicated the same\nto my comrades, who approved it. 'Brethren,' said I, 'you know\nthere is a great deal of timber floating upon the coast; if you\nwill be advised by me, let us make several rafts that may carry us,\nand when they are done, leave them there till we think fit to make\nuse of them. In the meantime we will execute the design to deliver\nourselves from the giant, and if it succeed, we may stay here with\npatience till some ship pass by to carry us out of this fatal\nisland; but if it happen to miscarry, we will speedily get to our\nrafts, 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 rafts capable of carrying three persons each.\n\nWe returned to the palace towards evening, and the giant arrived a\nlittle while after. We were forced to see another of our comrades\nroasted. But at last we revenged ourselves on the brutish giant\nthus. After he had made an end of his cursed supper, he lay down on\nhis back, and fell asleep. As soon as we heard him snore, according\nto his custom, nine of the boldest among us, and myself, took each\nof us a spit, and putting the points of them into the fire till\nthey were burning hot, we thrust them into his eye all at once, and\nblinded him. The pain occasioned him to make a frightful cry, and\nto get up and stretch out his hands in order to sacrifice some of\nus to his rage, but we ran to places where he could not find us;\nand after having sought for us in vain, he groped for the gate, and\nwent out, howling dreadfully.\n\nWe went out of the palace after the giant, and came to the shore,\nwhere we had left our rafts, and put them immediately into the sea.\nWe waited till day in order to get upon them, in case the giant\ncame towards us with any guide of his own species; but we hoped\nthat if he did not appear by sunrise, and gave over his howling,\nwhich we still heard, he would die; and if that happened to be the\ncase, we resolved to stay in the island, and not to risk our lives\nupon the rafts. But day had scarcely appeared when we perceived our\ncruel enemy, accompanied by two others almost of the same size\nleading him, and a great number more coming before him with a very\nquick pace.\n\nWhen we saw this, we made no delay, but got immediately upon our\nrafts, 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 their waists, and threw so exactly that they sank all\nthe rafts but that I was upon, and all my companions, except the\ntwo with me, were drowned. We rowed with all our might, and got out\nof the reach of the giants; but when we got out to sea, we were\nexposed to the mercy of the waves and winds, and tossed about,\nsometimes on one side, and sometimes on another, and spent that\nnight and the following day under a cruel uncertainty as to our\nfate; but next morning we had the good luck to be thrown upon an\nisland, where we landed with much joy. We found excellent fruit\nthere, that gave us great relief, so that we pretty well recovered\nour 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 from the serpent, which shook him several times against\nthe ground, and crushed him; and we could hear him gnaw and tear\nthe poor wretch's bones, when we had fled a great distance from\nhim. Next day we saw the serpent again, to our great terror, and I\ncried out, 'O heaven, to what dangers are we exposed! We rejoiced\nyesterday at having escaped from the cruelty of a giant and the\nrage of the waves, and now are we fallen into another danger\naltogether as terrible.'\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 with fruit, we mounted it accordingly. A little while\nafter, the serpent came hissing to the root of the tree, raised\nitself up against the trunk of it, and meeting with my comrade, who\nsat lower than I, swallowed him at once, and went off.\n\nI staid upon the tree till it was day, and then came down, more\nlike a dead man than one alive, expecting the same fate as my two\ncompanions. This filled me with horror, so that I was going to\nthrow myself into the sea; but nature prompting us to a desire to\nlive as long 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 meantime 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\nto the branches over my head. Having done thus, when the evening\ncame I shut myself up within this circle, with this melancholy\npiece of satisfaction, that I had neglected nothing which could\npreserve me from the cruel destiny with which I was threatened. The\nserpent failed not to come at the usual hour, and went round the\ntree, seeking for an opportunity to devour me, but was prevented by\nthe rampart I had made, so that he lay till day, like a cat\nwatching in vain for a mouse that has retreated to a place of\nsafety. When day appeared he retired, but I dared not to leave my\nfort until the sun arose.\n\nI was fatigued with the toil he had put me to, and suffered so much\nfrom his poisonous breath that, death seeming preferable 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.\n\nGod took compassion on my desperate state, for just as I was going\nto throw 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\nafter I had told them of all that befell me, the oldest among them\nsaid they had several times heard of the giants that dwelt in that\nisland, that they were cannibals and ate men raw as well as\nroasted; and as to the serpents, he added, there were abundance in\nthe isle that hid themselves by day and came abroad by night. After\nhaving testified their joy at my escaping so many dangers, they\nbrought me the best of what they had to eat; and the captain,\nseeing that I was all in rags, was so generous as to give me one of\nhis own suits.\n\nWe were at sea for some time, touched at several islands, and at\nlast landed at that of Salabat, where there grows sanders, a wood\nof great use in physic. We entered the port, and came to anchor.\nThe merchants began to unload their goods, in order to sell or\nexchange them. In the meantime the captain came to me, and said,\n'Brother, I have here a parcel of goods that belonged to a merchant\nwho sailed some time on board this ship; and he being dead, I\nintend to dispose of them for the benefit of his heirs, when I know\nthem.' The bales he spoke of lay on the deck, and showing them to\nme, he said, 'There are the goods; I hope you will take care to\nsell them, and you shall have a commission.' I thanked him that he\ngave me an opportunity to employ myself, because I hated to be\nidle.\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 Sinbad the\nsailor.' I could not hear myself named without some emotion, and\nlooking steadfastly on the captain, I knew him to be the person\nwho, in my second voyage, had left me in the island where I fell\nasleep by a brook, and set sail without me, and without sending to\nlook for me. But I could not remember him at first, he was so much\naltered since I saw him.\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's\nname to whom those goods belonged Sinbad?'\n\n'Yes,' replied he, 'that was his name; he came from Bagdad, and\nembarked on board my ship at Balsora. One day, when we landed at an\nisland to take in water and other refreshments, I know not by what\nmistake I set sail without observing that he did not re-embark with\nus; neither I nor the merchants perceived it till four hours after.\nWe had the wind in our stern and so fresh a gale that it was not\nthen possible for us to tack about for him.'\n\n'You believe him then to be dead?' said I.\n\n'Certainly,' answered he.\n\n'No, captain,' said I; 'look upon me, and you may know that I am\nSinbad, whom you left in that desert island. I fell asleep by a\nbrook, and when I awoke I found all the company gone.'\n\nThe captain, having considered me attentively, knew me at last\nembraced me, and said, 'God be praised that fortune has supplied my\ndefect. There are your goods, which I always took care to preserve\nand to make the best of at every port where I touched. I restore\nthem to you, with the profit I have made on them.' I took them from\nhim, and at the same time acknowledged how much I owed 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. We observed also a fish which looked like a cow, and gave\nmilk, and its skin is so hard that they usually make bucklers of\nit. I saw another which had the shape and colour of a camel. In\nshort, after a long voyage, I arrived at Balsora, and from thence\nreturned to this city of Bagdad, with so much riches that I knew\nnot what I had. I gave a great deal to the poor, and bought another\ngreat estate in addition to what I had already.\n\n\n\n\n\n              THE FOURTH VOYAGE OF SINBAD THE SAILOR.\n\n\n\nThe pleasures I took after my third voyage had not charms enough to\ndivert me from another. I was again prevailed upon by my passion\nfor traffic and curiosity to see new things. I therefore settled my\naffairs, and having provided a stock of goods fit for the places\nwhere I designed to trade, I set out on my journey. I took the way\nof Persia, of which I travelled over several provinces, and then\narrived at a port, where I embarked. We set sail, and having\ntouched at several ports of the mainland and some of the eastern\nislands, we put out to sea, and were overtaken by a sudden gust of\nwind that obliged the captain to furl his sails, and to take all\nother necessary precautions to prevent the danger that threatened\nus. But all was in vain; our endeavours had no effect, the sails\nwere torn into a thousand pieces, and the ship was stranded; so\nthat a great many of the merchants and seamen were drowned, and the\ncargo lost.\n\nI had the good fortune, with several of the merchants and mariners,\nto get a plank, and we were carried by the current to an island\nwhich lay before us: there we found fruit and spring water, which\npreserved our lives. We stayed all night near the place where the\nsea cast us ashore, without consulting what we should do, our\nmisfortune 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\nnumber of black men, who seized us, shared us among them, and\ncarried us to their respective habitations.\n\nI and five of my comrades were carried to one place; 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 black\nmen ate none of it themselves, consulted only the satisfying of\ntheir own hunger, and fell to eating with greediness: but I,\nsuspecting some trick, would not so much as taste it, which\nhappened well for me; for in a little time I perceived my\ncompanions had lost their senses, and that when they spoke to me\nthey knew not what they said.\n\nThe black men fed us afterwards with rice, prepared with oil of\ncocoanuts, and my comrades, who had lost their reason, ate of it\ngreedily. I ate of it also, but very sparingly. The black men gave\nus that herb at first on purpose to deprive us of our senses, that\nwe might not be aware of the sad destiny prepared for us; and 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 aware of their condition; but my\nsenses being entire, you may easily guess that instead of growing\nfat, as the rest did, I grew leaner every day. The fear of death\nunder which I laboured turned all my food into poison. I fell into\na languishing illness which proved my safety, for the black men\nhaving killed and eaten up my companions, seeing me to be withered,\nlean, and sick, deferred my death till another time.\n\nMeanwhile, I had a great deal of liberty, so that there was\nscarcely any notice taken of what I did, and this gave me an\nopportunity one day to get at a distance from the houses, and to\nmake my escape. An old man who saw me, and suspected my design,\ncalled to me as loud as he could to return, but instead of obeying\nhim, I redoubled my pace, and quickly got out of sight. At that\ntime there was none but the old man about the houses, the rest\nbeing away, and not to come home till night, which was pretty usual\nwith them; therefore, being sure that they could not come in time\nto pursue me, I went on till night, when I stopped to rest a\nlittle, and to eat some of the provisions I had taken care to\nbring; but I speedily set forward again, and travelled seven days,\navoiding those places which seemed to be inhabited, and living for\nthe most part upon cocoanuts, which served me for both meat and\ndrink. On the eighth day I came near the sea, and all of a sudden\nsaw white people like myself, gathering pepper, of which there was\ngreat plenty in that place. This I took to be a good omen, and went\nto them without any scruple.\n\nThe people who gathered pepper came to meet me as soon as they saw\nme, and asked me in Arabic who I was, and whence I came. I was\noverjoyed to hear them speak in my own language, and satisfied\ntheir curiosity by giving them an account of my shipwreck, and how\nI fell into the hands of the black men. 'Those black men,' replied\nthey, 'are cannibals, and by what miracle did you escape their\ncruelty?' I told them the same story I now tell you, at which they\nwere wonderfully surprised.\n\nI stayed 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\nhim, and he afterwards gave me clothes, and commanded care to be\ntaken of me.\n\nThe island was very well peopled, plentiful in everything, 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, in\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\nthan a stranger.\n\nI observed one thing which to me appeared very extraordinary. All\nthe people, the king himself not excepted, rode their horses\nwithout bridle or stirrups. This made me one day take the liberty\nto ask the king how that came to pass. His majesty answered, that I\ntalked to him of things which nobody knew the use of in his\ndominions. I went immediately to a workman, and gave him a model\nfor making the stock of a saddle. When that was done, I covered it\nmyself with velvet and leather, and embroidered it with gold. I\nafterwards went to a locksmith, who made me a bridle according to\nthe pattern I showed him, and then he made me also some stirrups.\nWhen I had all things completed, I presented them to the king, and\nput them upon one of his horses. His majesty mounted immediately,\nand was so pleased with them, that he testified his satisfaction by\nlarge presents to me. I could not avoid making several others for\nhis ministers and the principal officers of his household, who all\nof them made me presents that enriched me in a little time. I also\nmade some for the people of best quality in the city, which gained\nme great reputation and regard.\n\nAs I paid court very constantly to the king, he said to me one day,\n'Sinbad, I love thee; and all my subjects who know thee treat thee\naccording to my example. I have one thing to demand of thee, which\nthou must grant.'\n\n'Sir,' answered I, 'there is nothing but I will do, as a mark of my\nobedience to your majesty, whose power over me is absolute.'\n\n'I have a mind thou shouldst marry,' replied he, 'that so thou\nmayst stay in my dominion, and think no more of thy own country.'\n\nI dared not resist the prince's will, and so he gave me one of the\nladies of his court, a noble, beautiful, and rich lady. The\nceremonies of marriage being over, I went and dwelt with the lady,\nand for some time we lived together in perfect harmony. I was not,\nhowever, very well satisfied with my condition, and therefore\ndesigned to make my escape on the first occasion, and to return to\nBagdad, which my present settlement, how advantageous soever, could\nnot make me forget.\n\nWhile I was thinking on this, the wife of one of my neighbours,\nwith whom I had contracted a very close friendship, fell sick and\ndied. I went to see and comfort him in his affliction, and finding\nhim swallowed up with sorrow, I said to him as soon as I saw him,\n'God preserve you and grant you a long life.'\n\n'Alas!' replied he, 'how do you think I should obtain that favour\nyou wish me? I have not above an hour to live.'\n\n'Pray,' said I, 'do not entertain such a melancholy thought; I hope\nit will not be so, but that I shall enjoy your company for many\nyears.'\n\n'I wish you,' said he, 'a long life; but for me my days are at an\nend, for I must be buried this day with my wife. This is a law\nwhich our ancestors established in this island, and always observed\ninviolably. The living husband is interred with the dead wife, and\nthe living wife with the dead husband. Nothing can save me; every\none must submit to this law.'\n\nWhile he was entertaining me with an account of this barbarous\ncustom, the very hearing of which frightened me cruelly, his\nkindred, friends and neighbours came in a body to assist at the\nfunerals. They put on the corpse the woman's richest apparel, as if\nit had been her wedding-day, and dressed her with all her jewels;\nthen they put her into an open coffin, and lifting it up, began\ntheir march to the place of burial. The husband walked at the head\nof the company, and followed the corpse. They went up to a high\nmountain, and when they came thither, took up a great stone, which\ncovered the mouth of a very deep pit, and let down the corpse, with\nall its apparel and jewels. Then the husband, embracing his kindred\nand friends, suffered himself to be put into another open coffin\nwithout resistance, with a pot of water, and seven little loaves,\nand was let down in the same manner as they let down his wife. The\nmountain was pretty long, and reached to the sea. The ceremony\nbeing over, they covered the hole again with the stone, and\nreturned.\n\nIt is needless to say that I was the only melancholy spectator of\nthis funeral, whereas the rest were scarcely moved at it, the\npractice was so customary to them. I could not forbear speaking my\nthoughts on this matter to the king. 'Sir,' said I, 'I cannot but\nwonder at the strange custom in this country of burying the living\nwith the dead. I have been a great traveller, and seen many\ncountries, but never heard of so cruel a law.'\n\n'What do you mean, Sinbad?' said the king; 'it is a common law. I\nshall be interred with the queen, my wife, if she die first.'\n\n'But, sir,' said I, 'may I presume to ask your majesty if strangers\nbe obliged to observe this law?'\n\n'Without doubt,' replied the king, smiling at my question; 'they\nare not exempted, if they are married in this island.'\n\nI went home very melancholy at this answer, for the fear of my wife\ndying first, and my being interred alive with her, occasioned me\nvery mortifying reflections. But there was no remedy: I must have\npatience, and submit to the will of God. I trembled, however, at\nevery little indisposition of my wife; but alas! in a little time\nmy fears came upon me all at once, for she fell ill, and died in a\nfew days.\n\nYou may judge of my sorrow; to be interred alive seemed to me as\ndeplorable an end as to be devoured by cannibals. But I must\nsubmit; the king and all his court would honour the funeral with\ntheir presence, and the most considerable people of the city would\ndo the like. When all was ready for the ceremony, the corpse was\nput into a coffin, with all her jewels and magnificent apparel. The\ncavalcade began, and, as second actor in this doleful tragedy, I\nwent next to the corpse, with my eyes full of tears, bewailing my\ndeplorable fate. Before I came to the mountain, I addressed myself\nto the king, in the first place, and then to all those who were\nround me, and bowing before them to the earth to kiss the border of\ntheir garments, I prayed them to have compassion upon me.\n'Consider,' said I, 'that I am a stranger, and ought not to be\nsubject to this rigorous law, and that I have another wife and\nchild in my own country.' It was to no purpose for me to speak\nthus, no soul was moved at it; on the contrary, they made haste to\nlet down my wife's corpse into the pit, and put me down the next\nmoment in an open coffin, with a vessel full of water and seven\nloaves. In short, the fatal ceremony being performed, they covered\nup the mouth of the pit, notwithstanding the excess of my grief and\nmy lamentable cries.\n\nAs I came near the bottom, I discovered, by help of the little\nlight that came from above, the nature of this subterranean place;\nit was a vast long cave, and might be about fifty fathoms deep. I\nimmediately smelt an insufferable stench proceeding from the\nmultitude of corpses which I saw on the right and left; nay, I\nfancied that I heard some of them sigh out their last. However,\nwhen I got down, I immediately left my coffin, and, getting at a\ndistance from the corpses, lay down upon the ground, where I stayed\na long time, bathed in tears. Then reflecting on my sad lot, 'It is\ntrue,' said I, 'that God disposes all things according to the\ndecrees of His providence; but, poor Sinbad, 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\nrather have stayed at home, and quietly enjoyed the fruits of thy\nlabour?'\n\nSuch were the vain complaints with which I made the cave echo,\nbeating my head and breast 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 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\ncorpses than it appeared to me at first. I lived for some days upon\nmy bread and water, which being all used up at last I prepared for\ndeath.\n\nAs I was thinking of death, I heard something walking, and blowing\nor panting as it walked. I advanced towards that side from whence I\nheard the noise, and upon my approach the thing puffed and blew\nharder, as if it had been running away from me. I followed the\nnoise, and the thing seemed to stop sometimes, but always fled and\nblew as I approached. I followed it so long and so far that at last\nI 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 at it, and found myself upon the shore of the sea.\nI leave 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 had recovered from my surprise, and was convinced of the\ntruth of the matter, I found that the thing which I had followed\nand heard puff and blow was a creature which came out of the sea,\nand was accustomed to enter at that hole to feed upon the dead\ncarcasses.\n\nI examined the mountain, and perceived it to be situated betwixt\nthe sea and the town, but without any passage or way to communicate\nwith the latter, the rocks on the side of the sea were so rugged\nand steep. I fell down upon the shore to thank God for this mercy,\nand afterwards entered the cave again to fetch bread and water,\nwhich I did by daylight, with a better appetite than I had done\nsince my interment 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 to wait 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\nthe mariners asked by what misfortune I came thither. I told them\nthat I had suffered shipwreck two days ago, and made shift to get\nashore with the goods they saw. It was happy for me that those\npeople did not consider the place where I was, nor inquire into the\nprobability of what I told them; but without any more ado took me\non board with my goods. When I came to the ship, the captain was so\nwell pleased to have saved me, and so much taken up with his own\naffairs, that he also took the story of my pretended shipwreck upon\ntrust, and generously refused some jewels which I offered him.\n\nWe passed with a regular wind by several islands, among others the\none called the Isle of Bells, about ten days' sail from Serendib,\nand six from that of Kela, where we landed. This island produces\nlead from its mines, Indian canes, and excellent camphor.\n\nThe king of the Isle of Kela is very rich and potent, and the Isle\nof Bells, which is about two days' journey in extent, is also\nsubject to him. The inhabitants are so barbarous that they still\neat human flesh. After we had finished our commerce in that island\nwe put 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. Out of thankfulness to God\nfor His mercies, I gave great alms for the support of several\nmosques, and for the subsistence of the poor, and employed myself\nwholly in enjoying the society of my kindred and friends, and in\nmaking merry with them.\n\n\n\n\n\n              THE FIFTH VOYAGE OF SINBAD THE SAILOR.\n\n\n\nThe pleasures I enjoyed again had charm enough to make 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 seaport; and there, that I might not be obliged to depend\nupon a captain, but have a ship at my own command, I waited till\none was built on purpose at my own expense. When the ship was\nready, I went on board with my goods; but not having enough to load\nher, I took on board with me several merchants of different\nnations, with their merchandise.\n\nWe sailed with the first fair wind, and after a long voyage, the\nfirst place we touched at was a desert island, where we found an\negg of a roc, equal in size to that I formerly mentioned. There was\na young roc in it just ready to be hatched, and the bill of it\nbegan to appear.\n\nThe merchants whom I had taken on board my ship, and who landed\nwith me, broke the egg with hatchets, and made a hole in it, from\nwhence they pulled out the young roc piece by piece, and roasted\nit. I had earnestly persuaded them not to meddle with the egg, but\nthey would not listen to me.\n\nScarcely had they made an end of their feast, when there appeared\nin the air, at a considerable distance from us, two great clouds.\nThe captain whom I hired to manage my ship, knowing by experience\nwhat it meant, cried that it was the cock and hen roc that belonged\nto the 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 meantime 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 let\nfall a stone; but by the dexterity of the steersman, who turned the\nship with the rudder, it missed us, and falling by the side of the\nship into the sea, divided the water so that we could see almost to\nthe bottom. The other roc, to our misfortune, threw the stone so\nexactly upon the middle of the ship that it split into a thousand\npieces. The mariners and passengers were all killed by the stone,\nor sunk. I myself had the last fate; but as I came up again I\nfortunately caught hold of a piece of the wreck, and swimming\nsometimes with one hand and sometimes with the other, but always\nholding fast to my board, the wind and the tide favouring me, I\ncame to an island, where the beach was very steep. I overcame that\ndifficulty however, and got ashore.\n\nI sat down upon the grass, to recover myself a little from my\nfatigue, after which I got up, and went into the island to view it.\nIt seemed to be a delicious garden. I found trees everywhere, 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 for 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 than undertaking\nthis last voyage. These reflections carried me so far, that I began\nto form a design against my own life, but daylight dispersed these\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 who\nappeared 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 he made a sign for me to take him upon my back and carry\nhim 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, bade 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 had appeared very decrepit, clasped his legs nimbly about my\nneck, and then I perceived his skin to resemble that of a cow. He\nsat astride 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\nNotwithstanding my fainting, the ill-natured old fellow kept fast\nabout my neck, but opened his legs a little to give me time to\nrecover my breath. When I had done so, he thrust one of his feet\nagainst my stomach, and struck me so rudely on the side with the\nother, that he forced me to rise up against my will. Having got up,\nhe made me walk under the trees, and forced me now and then to\nstop, to gather and eat fruit such as we found. He never left me\nall day, and when I lay down to rest by night, he laid himself down\nwith me, always holding fast about my neck. Every morning he pushed\nme to make me wake, and afterwards obliged me to get up and walk,\nand pressed me with his feet. You may judge then what trouble I was\nin, to be loaded with such a burden as I could by no means rid\nmyself of.\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\ninto it some juice of grapes, 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 presently made me\nnot only forget my sorrow, but grow vigorous, and so light-hearted\nthat I began to sing and dance as I walked along.\n\nThe old man, perceiving the effect which this drink had upon me,\nand that I carried him with more ease than I did before, made a\nsign for me to give him some of it. I gave him the calabash, and\nthe liquor pleasing his palate, he drank it all off. He became\ndrunk immediately, and the fumes getting up into his head he began\nto sing after his manner, and to dance upon my shoulders. His\njolting about made him sick, and he loosened his legs from about me\nby degrees; so finding that he did not press me as before, I threw\nhim upon the ground, where he lay without motion, and then I took\nup a great stone, with which I crushed his head to pieces.\n\nI was extremely rejoiced to be freed thus for ever from this cursed\nold fellow, and walked along the shore 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\nthe particulars of my adventures. 'You fell,' said they, 'into the\nhands of the old man of the sea, and are the first that has ever\nescaped strangling by him. He never left those he had once made\nhimself master of till he destroyed them, and he has made this\nisland famous for the number of men he has slain; so that the\nmerchants and mariners who landed upon it dared not advance into\nthe island but in numbers together.'\n\nAfter having informed me of these 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' sail we arrived at the harbour of a great city,\nwhere the houses were built of good stone.\n\nOne of the merchants of the ship, who had taken me into his\nfriendship, asked me to go along with him, and took me to a place\nappointed as a retreat for foreign merchants. He gave me a great\nbag, and having recommended me to some people of the town, who were\nused to gather cocoa-nuts, he desired them to take me with them to\ndo the like: 'Go,' said he, 'follow them, and do as you see them\ndo, and do not separate from them, otherwise you endanger your\nlife.' Having thus spoken, 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,\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-nut trees, and when we entered the forest we saw a great\nnumber of apes of all sizes, that fled as soon as they perceived\nus, and climbed up to the top of the trees with surprising\nswiftness.\n\nThe merchants with whom I was gathered stones, and threw them at\nthe apes on the top of the trees. I did the same, and the apes, out\nof revenge, threw cocoa-nuts at us as fast and with such gestures\nas sufficiently testified their anger and resentment: we gathered\nup the cocoa-nuts, and from time to time threw stones to provoke\nthe apes; so that by this stratagem we filled our bags with cocoa-\nnuts, which it had been impossible for us to do 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 cocoa-\nnuts I had brought; 'Go on,' said he, 'and do the like every day,\nuntil you have money enough to carry you home.' I thanked him for\nhis good advice, and gathered together as 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, whose merchants\nlanded speedily for the like loading. I embarked on board the same\nall the cocoa-nuts that belonged to me, and when she was ready to\nsail I went and took leave of the merchant who had been so kind to\nme; but he could not embark with me because he had not finished his\nbusiness.\n\nWe set sail towards the islands where pepper grows in great plenty.\nFrom thence we went to the Isle of Comari, where the best sort of\nwood of aloes grows, and whose inhabitants have made it an\ninviolable law to drink no wine themselves, nor to suffer any kind\nof improper conduct. I exchanged my cocoa-nuts in those two islands\nfor pepper and wood of aloes, and went with other merchants pearl-\nfishing. I hired divers, who fetched me up those that were very\nlarge and pure. Then I embarked joyfully in a vessel that happily\narrived at Balsora; from thence I returned to Bagdad, where I made\nvast sums by 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 fatigue by\ndiversions of all sorts.\n\n\n\n\n\n              THE SIXTH VOYAGE OF SINBAD THE SAILOR.\n\n\n\nAfter being shipwrecked five times, and escaping so many dangers,\ncould I resolve again to try my fortune, and expose myself to new\nhardships? I am astonished at it myself when I think of it, and\nmust certainly have been induced to it by my stars. But be that as\nit will, after a year's rest I prepared for a sixth voyage,\nnotwithstanding the entreaties of my kindred and friends, who did\nall that was possible to prevent me. Instead of taking my way by\nthe Persian Gulf, I travelled once more through several provinces\nof Persia and the Indies, and arrived at a sea-port, where I\nembarked on board a ship, the captain of which was resolved on a\nlong 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 his\nbeard, and beat his head like a madman. We asked him the reason,\nand he answered that he was in the most dangerous place in all the\nsea. 'A rapid current carries the ship along with it,' he said,\n'and we shall all of us perish in less than a quarter of an hour.\nPray to God to deliver us from this danger; we cannot escape it if\nHe does not take pity on us.' At these words he ordered the sails\nto be changed; but all the ropes broke and the ship, without its\nbeing possible to help it, was carried by the current to the foot\nof an inaccessible mountain, where she ran ashore, and was broken\nto pieces, yet so that we saved our lives, our provisions, and the\nbest of 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 have\never returned to their homes again.' His discourse afflicted us\nsorely, and we embraced each other with tears in our eyes,\nbewailing our deplorable 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 from the vast number of men's bones we saw everywhere,\nand which filled us with horror, we concluded that abundance of\npeople had died there. It is also impossible to tell what a\nquantity of goods and riches we found cast ashore there. All these\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 runs out of the sea into a dark cave, whose\nentrance is very high and large. What is most remarkable in this\nplace is that the stones of the mountain are of crystal, rubies, or\nother precious stones. Here is also a sort of fountain of pitch or\nbitumen, that runs into the sea, which the fishes swallow, and then\nvomit up again, turned into ambergris; and this the waves throw up\non the beach in great quantities. Here also grow trees, most of\nwhich are wood of aloes, equal in goodness to those of Comari.\n\nTo finish the description of this place, which may well be called a\ngulf, since nothing ever returns from it--it is not possible for\nships to get away again when once they come near it. If they are\ndriven thither by a wind from the sea, the wind and the current\nruin them; and if they come into it when a land-wind blows, which\nmight seem to favour their getting out again, the height of the\nmountain stops the wind, and occasions a calm, so that the force of\nthe current runs them ashore, where they are broken to pieces, as\nours was; and that which completes the misfortune is that there is\nno possibility to get to the top of the mountain, or to get out any\nmanner 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 everyone lived a longer or shorter\ntime, according to their temperance, and the use they made of their\nprovisions.\n\nThose who died first were interred by the rest; and, for my part, I\npaid the last duty to all my companions. Nor are you to wonder at\nthis; for besides that I husbanded the provision that fell to my\nshare better than they, I had provision of my own, which I did not\nshare with my comrades; yet when I buried the last, I had so little\nremaining that I thought I could not hold out long: so I dug a\ngrave, resolving to lie down in it, because there was none left to\ninter me. I must confess to you at the same time that while I was\nthus employed I could not but reflect upon myself as the cause of\nmy own ruin, and repented that I had ever undertaken this last\nvoyage; nor did I stop at reflections only, but had well nigh\nhastened my own death, and began to tear my hands with my teeth.\n\nBut it pleased God once more to take compassion on me, and put it\nin my mind to go to the bank of the river which ran into the 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 raft, and leave myself to the\ncurrent, it will bring me to some inhabited country, or drown me.\nIf I be drowned I lose nothing, but only change one kind of death\nfor another; 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\ninterest?'\n\nI immediately went to work on a raft. I made it of large pieces of\ntimber and cables, for I had choice of them, and tied them together\nso strongly that I had made a very solid little raft. When I had\nfinished it I loaded it with some bales of rubies, emeralds,\nambergris, rock-crystal, and rich stuffs. Having balanced all my\ncargo exactly and fastened it well to the raft, I went on board it\nwith two little oars that I had made, and, leaving it to the course\nof 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 for some days in\nperfect darkness, and once found the arch so low that it well nigh\nbroke my head, which made me very cautious afterwards to avoid the\nlike danger. All this while I ate nothing but what was just\nnecessary to support nature; yet, notwithstanding this frugality,\nall my provisions were spent. Then a pleasing sleep fell upon me. I\ncannot tell how long it continued; but when I awoke, I was\nsurprised to find myself in the middle of a vast country, at the\nbank of a river, where my raft 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 anything 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\nour fields, by digging little canals from this river, which comes\nout of the neighbouring mountain. We saw something floating upon\nthe water, went speedily to find out what it was, and perceiving\nyour raft, one of us swam into the river, and brought it hither,\nwhere we fastened it, as you see, until you should awake. Pray tell\nus your history, for it must be extraordinary; how did you venture\ninto this river, and whence did you come?'\n\nI begged of them first to give me something to eat, and then I\nwould satisfy their curiosity. They gave me several sorts of food;\nand when I had satisfied my hunger, I gave them a true account of\nall that had befallen me, which they listened to with wonder. As\nsoon as I had finished my discourse, they told me, by the person\nwho spoke Arabic and interpreted to them what I said, that it was\none of the most surprising stories they ever heard, and that I must\ngo along with them, and tell it to their king myself; the story was\ntoo extraordinary to be told by any other than the person to whom\nit happened. I told them 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\nme to show me the way, and the rest took my raft and cargo, and\nfollowed me.\n\nWe marched thus altogether, till we came to the city of Serendib,\nfor 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\ndo the kings of the Indies; that is to say, I prostrated myself at\nhis feet, 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\nSinbad the sailor, because of the many voyages I have undertaken,\nand I am a citizen of Baghdad.'\n\n'But,' replied he, 'how came you into my dominions, and from whence\ncame 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,\nthat he commanded my adventure to be written in letters of gold,\nand laid up in the archives of his kingdom. At last my raft was\nbrought in, and the bales opened in his presence: he admired the\nquantity of wood of aloes and ambergris; but, above all, the rubies\nand emeralds, 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's service, but the cargo of the raft, and\nI would beg of you to dispose of it as your own.'\n\nHe answered me with a smile, 'Sinbad, I will take care not to covet\nanything of yours, nor to take anything from you that God has given\nyou; far from lessening your wealth, I design to augment it, and\nwill not let you go out of my dominions without marks of my\nliberality.'\n\nAll the answer I returned was prayers for the prosperity of this\nprince, and commendations of his generosity and bounty. He charged\none of his officers to take care of me, and ordered people to serve\nme at his own charge. The officer was very faithful in the\nexecution of his orders, and caused all the goods to be carried to\nthe lodgings provided for me. I went every day at a set hour to pay\ncourt to the king, and spent the rest of my time in seeing the\ncity, and what was most worthy of notice.\n\nThe Isle of Serendib is situated just under the equinoctial line,\nso that the days and nights there are always of twelve hours each,\nand the island is eighty parasangs in length, and as many in\nbreadth.\n\nThe capital city stands at the end of a fine valley formed by a\nmountain in the middle of the island, which is the highest in the\nworld. I made, by way of devotion, a pilgrimage to the place where\nAdam was confined after his banishment from Paradise, and had the\ncuriosity 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\nhonourable manner. He would needs force a rich present upon me, and\nwhen I went to take my leave of him, he gave me one much more\nvaluable, 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. The writing was azure, and the contents as\nfollows:--\n\n 'The 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'Though the present we send you be inconsiderable, receive it as a\nbrother and a friend, in consideration of the hearty friendship\nwhich we bear to you, and of which we are willing to give you\nproof. We desire the same part in your friendship, considering that\nwe believe it to be our merit, being of the same dignity with\nyourself. We conjure you this in the rank of a brother. Farewell.'\n\nThe present consisted first, of one single ruby made into a cup,\nabout half a foot high, an inch thick, and filled with round\npearls. Secondly, the skin of a serpent, whose scales were as large\nas an ordinary piece of gold, and had the virtue to preserve from\nsickness those who lay upon it. Thirdly, fifty thousand drachms of\nthe best wood of aloes, with thirty grains of camphor as big as\npistachios. And fourthly, a she-slave of ravishing beauty, whose\napparel was covered all over with jewels.\n\nThe ship set sail, and after a very long and successful voyage, we\nlanded at Balsora; from thence I went to Bagdad, where the first\nthing I did was to acquit myself of my commission.\n\nI took the King of Serendib's letter, and went to present myself at\nthe gate of the Commander of the Faithful, followed by the\nbeautiful slave and such of my own family as carried the presents.\nI gave an account of the reason of my coming, and was immediately\nconducted to the throne of the caliph. I made my reverence, and\nafter a short speech gave him the letter and present. When he had\nread what the King of Serendib wrote to him, he asked me if that\nprince were really so rich and potent as he had said in this\nletter. I prostrated myself a second time, and rising again,\n'Commander of the Faithful,' said I, 'I can assure your majesty he\ndoth not exceed the truth on that head: I am witness of it. There\nis nothing more capable of raising a man's admiration than the\nmagnificence of his palace. When the prince appears in public, he\nhas a throne fixed on the back of an elephant, and marches betwixt\ntwo ranks of his ministers, favourites, and other people of his\ncourt; before him, upon the same elephant, an officer carries a\ngolden lance in his hand, and behind the throne there is another,\nwho stands upright with a column of gold, on the top of which there\nis an emerald half a foot long and an inch thick; before him march\na guard of a thousand men, clad in cloth of gold and silk, and\nmounted on elephants richly caparisoned.\n\n'While the king is on his march, the officer who is before him on\nthe same elephant cries from time to time, with a loud voice,\n\"Behold the great monarch, the potent and redoubtable Sultan of the\nIndies, whose palace is covered with a hundred thousand rubies, and\nwho possesses twenty thousand crowns of diamonds.\" After he has\npronounced these words, the officer behind the throne cries in his\nturn, \"This monarch so great and so powerful, must die, must die,\nmust die.\" And the officer in front replies, \"Praise be to Him who\nlives for ever.\"\n\n'Further, 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 of themselves.'\n\nThe caliph was much pleased with my discourse. 'The wisdom of this\nking,' said he, 'appears in his letter, and after what you tell me\nI must 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\n\n\n\n\n         THE SEVENTH AND LAST VOYAGE OF SINBAD THE SAILOR.\n\n\n\nBeing returned from my sixth voyage, I absolutely laid aside all\nthoughts of travelling any farther; for, besides 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 some 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. 'Sinbad,'\nsaid he to me, 'I stand in need of you; you must do me the service\nto carry my answer and present to the King of Serendib. It is but\njust I should return his civility.'\n\nThis command of the caliph to me was like a clap of thunder.\n'Commander of the Faithful,' replied I, 'I am ready to do whatever\nyour majesty shall think fit to command me; but I beseech you most\nhumbly to consider what I have undergone. I have also made a vow\nnever to go out of Bagdad.' Here I took occasion to give him a\nlarge and particular account of all my adventures, which he had the\npatience to hear out.\n\nAs soon as I had finished, 'I confess,' said he, 'that the things\nyou tell me are very extraordinary, yet you must for my sake\nundertake this voyage which I propose to you. You have nothing to\ndo but to go to the Isle of Serendib, and deliver the commission\nwhich I give you. After that you are at liberty to return. But you\nmust go; for you know it would be indecent, and not suitable to my\ndignity, to be indebted to the king of that island.' Perceiving\nthat the caliph insisted upon it, I submitted, and told him that I\nwas willing to obey. He was very well pleased at it, and ordered me\na thousand sequins for the expense of my journey.\n\nI prepared for my departure in a few days, and as soon as the\ncaliph's letter and present were delivered to me, I went to\nBalsora, where I embarked, and had a very happy voyage. I arrived\nat the Isle of Serendib, where I acquainted the king's ministers\nwith my commission, and prayed them to get me speedy audience. They\ndid so, and I was conducted to the palace in an honourable manner,\nwhere I saluted the king by prostration, according to custom. That\nprince knew me immediately, and testified very great joy to see me.\n'O Sinbad,' said he, 'you are welcome; I swear to you I have many\ntimes thought of you since you went hence; I bless the day upon\nwhich we see one another once more.' I made my compliment to him,\nand after having thanked him for his kindness to me, I delivered\nthe caliph's letter and present, which he received with all\nimaginable satisfaction.\n\nThe caliph's present was a complete set of cloth of gold, valued at\none thousand sequins; fifty robes of rich stuff, a hundred others\nof white cloth, the finest of Cairo, Suez, Cusa, and Alexandria; a\nroyal crimson bed, and a second of another fashion; a vessel of\nagate broader than deep, an inch thick, and half a foot wide, the\nbottom of which represented in bas-relief a man with one knee on\nthe ground, who held a bow and an arrow, ready to let fly at a\nlion. He sent him also a rich table, which, according to tradition,\nbelonged to the great Solomon. The caliph's letter was as follows:\n\n 'Greeting 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'We 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. Farewell.'\n\nThe King of Serendib was highly pleased that the caliph returned\nhis friendship. A little time after this audience, I solicited\nleave to depart, and had much difficulty to obtain it. I obtained\nit, however, at last, and the king, when he dismissed me, made me a\nvery considerable present. I embarked immediately to return to\nBagdad, but had not the good fortune to arrive there as I hoped.\nGod ordered it otherwise.\n\nThree or four days after my departure, we were attacked by pirates,\nwho easily seized upon our ship. Some of the crew offered\nresistance, which cost them their lives. But as for me and the\nrest, who were not so imprudent, the pirates saved us on purpose to\nmake slaves of us.\n\nWe were all stripped, and instead of our own clothes they gave us\nsorry rags, and carried us into a remote island, where they sold\nus.\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\nhandsomely for a slave. Some days after, not knowing who I was, he\nasked me if I understood any trade. I answered that I was no\nmechanic, but a merchant, and that the pirates who sold me had\nrobbed me of all I had.\n\n'But tell me,' replied he, 'can you shoot with a bow?'\n\nI answered that the bow was one of my exercises in my youth, and I\nhad not yet forgotten it. Then he gave me a bow and arrows, and,\ntaking me behind him upon an elephant, carried me to a vast forest\nsome leagues from the town. We went a great way into the forest,\nand where he thought fit to stop he bade me alight; then showing me\na great tree, 'Climb up that tree,' said he, 'and shoot at the\nelephants as you see them pass by, for there is a prodigious number\nof them in this forest, and, if any of them fall, come and give me\nnotice of it.' Having spoken thus, he left me victuals, and\nreturned to the town, and I continued upon the tree all night.\n\nI saw no elephant during that time, but next morning, as soon as\nthe sun was up, I saw a great number: I shot several arrows among\nthem, and at last one of the elephants fell; the rest retired\nimmediately, and left me at liberty to go and acquaint my patron\nwith my booty. When I had told him the news, he gave me a good\nmeal, commended my dexterity, and caressed me highly. We afterwards\nwent together to the forest, where we dug a hole for the elephant;\nmy patron intending to return when it was rotten, and to take the\nteeth, etc., to 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 remained immoveable, and was so much frightened that my\nbow and arrows fell out of my hand.\n\nMy fears were not in vain; for after the elephants had stared upon\nme for some time, one of the largest of them put his trunk round\nthe root of the tree, and pulled so strong that he plucked it up\nand threw 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: then he\nput himself at the head of the rest, who followed him in troops,\nand carried me to a place where he laid me down on the ground, and\nretired with all his companions. Conceive, if you can, the\ncondition I was in: I thought myself to be in a dream; at last,\nafter having lain some time, and seeing the elephants gone, I got\nup, and found I was upon a long and broad hill, covered all over\nwith the bones and teeth of elephants. I confess to you that this\nfurnished me with abundance of reflections. I admired the instinct\nof those animals; I doubted not but that this was their burying\nplace, and that they carried me thither on purpose to tell me that\nI should forbear to persecute them, since I did it only for their\nteeth. I did not stay on the hill, but turned towards the city,\nand, after having travelled a day and a night, I came to my patron;\nI met no elephant on my way, which made me think they had retired\nfarther into the forest, to leave me at liberty to come back to the\nhill without any hindrance.\n\nAs soon as my patron saw me: 'Ah, poor Sinbad,' 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 you are still alive.'\n\nI satisfied his curiosity, and going both of us next morning to the\nhill, he found to his great joy that what I had told him was true.\nWe loaded the elephant upon which we came with as many teeth as he\ncould carry; and when we had returned, 'Brother,' said my patron--\n'for I will treat you no more as my slave--after having made such a\ndiscovery as will enrich me, God bless you with all happiness and\nprosperity. I declare before Him that I give you your liberty. I\nconcealed from you what I am now going to tell you.\n\n'The elephants of our forest have every year killed a great many\nslaves, whom we sent to seek ivory. Notwithstanding all the\ncautions we could give them, those crafty animals killed them one\ntime or other. God has delivered you from their fury, and has\nbestowed that favour upon you only. It is a sign that He loves you,\nand has use for your service in the world. You have procured me\nincredible gain. We could not have ivory formerly but by exposing\nthe lives of our slaves, and now our whole city is enriched by your\nmeans. Do not think I pretend to have rewarded you by giving you\nyour liberty; I will also give you considerable riches. I could\nengage all our city to contribute towards making your fortune, but\nI will have the glory of doing it myself.'\n\nTo this obliging discourse I replied, 'Patron, God preserve you.\nYour giving me my liberty is enough to discharge what you owe me,\nand I desire no other reward for the service I had the good fortune\nto do to you and your city, than leave to return to my own\ncountry.'\n\n'Very well,' said he, 'the monsoon will in a little time bring\nships for ivory. I will send you home then, and give you wherewith\nto pay your expenses.' I thanked him again for my liberty, and his\ngood intentions towards me. I stayed with him until the monsoon;\nand during 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.\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, laid in provisions in abundance for my passage, and\nobliged me besides to accept as a present, curiosities of the\ncountry of great value. After I had returned him a thousand thanks\nfor all his favours, I went on board. 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 by my ivory, I bought several rarities,\nwhich I intended for presents, and when my equipage was ready, I\nset out in the company of a large caravan of merchants. I was a\nlong time on the way, and suffered very much, but endured all with\npatience, when I considered that I had nothing to fear from the\nseas, from pirates, from serpents, nor from the other perils I had\nundergone.\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 that I\nwas so long in returning, but that he always hoped God would\npreserve me. When I told him the adventure of the elephants, he\nseemed to be much surprised at it, and would never have given any\ncredit to it had he not known my sincerity. He reckoned this story,\nand the other narratives I had given him, to be so curious that he\nordered one of his secretaries to write them in characters of gold,\nand lay them up in his treasury. I retired very well satisfied with\nthe honours I received and the presents which he gave me; and after\nthat I gave myself up wholly to my, family, kindred and friends.\n\n\nEnd of Fairy Tales from the Arabian Nights","title":"Fairy Tales from the Arabian Nights","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":91019}